Goodiepal udstiller for tiden på Andersen’s Contemporary. Udstillingen tager udgangspunkt i hans nye bog El Camino Del Hardcore – Rejsen Til Nordens Indre og i dag spiller han på Blågårdens Bibliotek. Seismograf har mødt ham til et kort interview om musik, der ikke er der længere - om viden, der bare kopieres - og om hvordan kunst- og musikscenerne smelter sammen.

Du har udgivet en bog: El Camino Del Hardcore – Rejsen Til Nordens Indre. Hvad handler den om?

”Den handler om musik. Simpelthen.”

Hvordan?

”Den handler om alting - forstået på den måde, at jeg har jo skrevet alt hvad jeg ved i den bog. Så er der sikkert noget jeg ved, som jeg ikke har skrevet i bogen – og noget jeg ikke ved, som jeg også har skrevet i bogen. Den handler om hvad man kan gøre efter Radikal Computermusik – men den er jo skrevet mens jeg kørte rundt i store dele af verden på cykel, så det er også lidt en rejsebeskrivelse.

Der er skrevet utroligt meget musik ind i bogen, så man kunne godt kalde det samling nye værker. Men det, der er specielt ved de værker er, at mange af dem ikke længere er eksisterende. I bogen hører man hele tiden om værker, der af den ene eller den anden grund ikke længere findes – de er måske faldet sammen, eller forsvundet eller noget helt tredje. Det er fordi jeg mener, at de store komponister er døde. I dag er man nødt til at pakke sin musik ind på en anden måde, så derfor handler bogen også om at kryptere. Der er utrolig meget viden, der er krypteret i bogen.

Det hænger også sammen med at folk efterhånden bare citerer og citerer. Vi har Wikipedia som det bedste eksempel. Det er jo ikke svært at vide noget om kvantefysik, det kan man læse på Wikipedia – men det er svært at sige noget nyt om kvantefysik. For eksempel den der ’videnskunst’, der bliver lavet nu, den byder jo ikke på ny viden.”

Du har været væk et stykke tid og nu er du tilbage – hvorfor det?

”Jeg har altid kommet lidt tilbage - og jeg er heller ikke kommet mere tilbage end som så. Men nu har jeg jo en udstilling i Danmark på Andersen’s Contemporary. Bogen har sådan set været ude et stykke tid, men det kræver en udstilling i Danmark, før der er nogen der gider at forholde sig til, at jeg har lavet en bog. Faktisk har jeg været i Danmark ind imellem hele tiden. Jeg lå med et brækket ben i tre måneder i Danmark for et års tid siden.”

For mig at se har du i de senere år nærmet dig galleriscenen. Er det en mere interessant scene for dig end musikmiljøet?

”De hænger sammen. Det bliver sværere og sværere at skelne det ene fra det andet. Det er stadig musik det handler om. Jeg har beskæftiget med musik, der har været så højtravende, at den danske musikverden ikke gider at røre ved det. I rytmiske musikkredse har jeg nærmest været hadet – mens kunstkredsene har sagt: ”Nej, hvor spændende”. Så jeg er gået derhen hvor der har været interesse. På den måde er det jo virkelig rock’n’roll – jeg er bare taget derhen, hvor det næste gig har været. Men jeg kan da godt se på de folk der kom til udstillingsåbningen, at nu var det langt væk fra musikmiljøet. Nu var det kunstnerne og alle forfatterne – der var simpelthen ikke en komponist eller rytmisk musiker til stede. Og på den måde må jeg erkende, at mit popmusikertække er faldende.

Men der er sket en interessant udvikling over de sidste 15 år. For eksempel sidder der i dag rigtig mange på kunstakademierne, der arbejder med lyd, og i de seneste par år har der også været mange installatoriske ting på musikscenen. Så det er beskrivende for hvor det hele er ved at bevæge sig hen, og det er mere en tendens end det har noget med mig at gøre. Måske er to højttalere og konceptalbummets dage bare talte. Jeg synes langt de fleste musikere har referencer, der peger tilbage, og derfor peger på noget der i bund og grund er uopnåeligt. Og det er måske lidt svært for musikken at acceptere, at det er sådan. Men jeg er ikke den eneste, der beskæftiger sig med musik, som er røget over mod galleriscenen. Så i stedet for at tale om et personligt opgør, vil jeg hellere se det som en tendens. Der vil jo altid være en brydning de forskellige kunstarter imellem. Der er altid en ping-pong.”

I dag kl. 17 skal du så optræde på Blågårdens bibliotek – hvad kan vi forvente os af det?

”Jeg præsenterer bogen – og så spiller jeg nogle af de værker der ikke findes mere – som musik. Og så kan man vel låne bogen, nu man er på biblioteket.”

© Ellie Brown

»Music for me is: inevitable.« 

Ryong is a composer, artist & DJ that explores: Danish and Korean heritage, spirituality, embodiment, family and love, Ryong is also a member of the experimental pop band haloplus+. Across her releases, she draws on both ambient, noise and pop music, incorporating the sound of field recordings and spoken word. Having previously released on Why Be’s label Yegorka, and debuting on Posh Isolation with Isa Ryong, an 11 part work that explores transition and the anguish of complexity, Ryong has established herself as a unique artist in the experimental electronic music scene in Copenhagen.
 

in briefrelease
26.01.2025

She Makes the Music Vibrate Like a Living Organism

Astrid Sonne: »Great Doubt« 
© PR
© PR

When I first listened to the Danish violist, singer, and producer Astrid Sonne’s new album, Great Doubt, I honestly wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I immediately noticed how extraordinary Sonne’s viola sounds on the album – such a powerful presence that it almost feels like a deeply complex living organism, breathing, feeling, and moving dramatically through the album’s nine songs.

My favourite track was without a doubt »Almost«, where Sonne’s fragile, subtly intense voice is accompanied solely by the viola’s minimalist pizzicato melody, which reminds me of a forgotten composition from Japanese new age pioneer Hiroshi Yoshimura’s masterpiece Green.

On most of the tracks, however, voice and viola are also joined by electronic rhythms, piano chords, and synth figures which, in contrast to the viola’s organic, vibrating sound, initially struck me as almost plastically artificial. To me, it sounded as if the viola and the electronics were being transmitted from two very different universes, unable to fully coexist. There was something about the contrast that felt slightly… uncanny.

Yet with repeated listens, everything begins to make sense. Sonne’s coolly understated voice is the glue that binds the entire soundscape together, as if it itself exists in the porous space between the viola’s raw natural force and the electronics’ tamed purity. I like it more and more – and perhaps I may even come to love it. Great Doubt is an album that, despite its modest running time of just 26 minutes, demands immersion and reflection – and ultimately rewards the listener for it.

© PR

»Music for me is a highway hotel. Open 24 hours a day. There are no receptionists, and you are not given keys. You wander sleepily around the hotel's many corridors, from door to door. Some doors are ajar, others you have to pry open. Behind them all are rooms. Some are sparsely furnished, others are filled to the brim with dancing people. You can stay in there for a few minutes. Some rooms you return to. Many are a bit boring, others almost knock you over. What I like most is the ones I can't really orient myself in. The rooms where I have doubts about what is floor and what is wall. And what the furniture is actually used for. All the rooms fit together. You leave the hotel and drive on along the highway of life. A different person than when you arrived.« 

Anders Søgaard is a poet and professor of artificial intelligence and philosophy at the University of Copenhagen. He has written eleven books and more than 300 research articles. He has three children and lives in a housing community in Roskilde.

in brief
08.01.2025

Love and Poetry under Black Streetlights

Jørgensen/Botes: »Dråberne 5, 7, 8 og 11«
Marina Botes og Steen Jørgensen. © Isak Hoffmeyer
Marina Botes og Steen Jørgensen. © Isak Hoffmeyer

While many still sigh at the thought of seeing a full Sort Sol once again illuminate the dark grey Danish sky, the band’s eternal crooner Steen Jørgensen, together with his equally strong other half, pianist Marina Botes, has created music that is something entirely different – something deeper. And yes, I have seen words like »pretentious« and »boring« hurled at the duo, but none of that sticks to their new release, which consists of a series of intimate suites where Jørgensen’s spoken word is woven together with Botes’ magnificent piano playing. If the ambition is to build a bridge between the classical and the electronic, it succeeds convincingly.

As a lyricist who moves through the same pitch-black landscape as Jørgensen, I tip my hat to the strong poetic imagery that characterizes Dråberne 5, 7, 8, and 11 – especially on the album’s longest track, the dramatic »Hul – Dråberne 7«. As Jørgensen muses on the luminous melancholy of the inner city, the music becomes a transformation, a sphere of change made of ambient surfaces, muted strings, and a female vocal that slips in like a shadow—until the song rises in dramatic momentum, centering on the line »En nat i indre kvarter«.

The music is primarily grounded in piano-heavy terrain, where Botes’ keys find repose in muted pedal strikes and light strings. Only in rare moments do the compositions break free, as on the opener »Glemsel – Dråberne 5«, where chamber orchestra and jazzy breakbeats create a compelling and almost cinematic atmosphere.

Dråberne 5, 7, 8, and 11 is a seductive, inspiring, and downright sumptuous experiment in which the love between the two artists can be felt in every tone. If this is Jørgensen’s career winter, I will gladly accept more dark, warm moments.

in briefrelease
16.12.2024

A Riddle I Am Not the Right One to Solve

Abdullah Miniawy: »Nigma Enigma«
© PR
© PR

I believe I am not the right person to grapple with all the existential questions of faith and culture that the multidisciplinary artist and political experimentalist Abdullah Miniawy grapples with on his latest album, Nigma Enigma. The record is equal parts Arabic chant, folk music, and sound art, based on modular synths and field recordings. The Egyptian composer uses the album’s eleven abstractions as the soundtrack to what he himself calls »an Arabic opera of doubt and faith«. But as a non-Arab, lifelong atheist, it is difficult for this reviewer to fully engage with the big questions Miniawy poses in his mother tongue, while samples of crackling fires and layers of filtering create an otherwise enigmatic atmosphere that resonates well with the album’s title. As the music also functions as the soundtrack to an immersive video game, we are taken even further from familiar territory, given that the reviewer has not touched such things since Quakein 1992.

If one sets aside the search for meaning and allows oneself to be colored by the music’s immediacy, what emerges is a strongly conceptual, sonically accomplished work, in which Miniawy’s voice – most often chanting Arabic phrases from old folk songs – is interwoven with electronic noise. In particular, the transition from the beautiful two-part chanting on »Jayhano Al Kawahi« – with strong religious undertones – to the deeply anarchic noise vignette »Half a Year II«, featuring filtered sine tones and pounding bursts of bass noise, serves as an apt characterization of a minimalist piece of sound art.

Yet without being able to share Miniawy’s cultural and spiritual context, the album feels like a riddle I cannot solve. Like drinking an Irish coffee without the whiskey: the real praise is withheld. Nigma Enigma will speak to those who can relate to the spiritual and philosophical questions Miniawy raises, while others may experience it as a musical journey without fully understanding its destination.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek