Morr Music Novedades

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
+
Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
+
Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11

You don’t need to be Freud to regard teeth as a delicate issue. They can make joy look joyous and pain look painful, and on the cover of the new múm album they do both at the same time. As »Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is Okay« (2001), »Finally We Are No One« (2002) and »Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know« (2009) »Smilewound« is another example of the band’s art of juxtaposing two conflicting meanings and taking advantage of the energy created through the tension between both.

Sparser in sound than many of its predecessors, »Smilewound« is an airy, relaxed record. The múm-core-duo of Örvar and Gunni doesn’t make you laugh out loud (except maybe for the quirky vintage Arcade-sound-start of »When Girls Collide«), but it will make you smile often - despite the heavenly voices singing about violence in one form or another in most songs. Musically, múm’s capability to build playful electronic sound-ornaments around simple melodies is in full bloom. And these days they know that trimming the ornamentation can strengthen the melody. Take »The Colorful Stabwound«: an aguish drum’n’bass piece and »Smilewound« gets close to a straight pop-song. Even that isn’t very close, but it combines its rhythmic strength with a simple yet effective piano-line and the soothing lushness of a female voice to something compelling that follows you like the smell of a delicate eau de toilette. Or »Candlestick« which started out as a little ditty strummed on an acoustic guitar many years ago and has grown into this bouncy piece of synth-pop that changes its musical colours every couple of beats until you feel comfortably dizzy. Perfect pop in very fancy clothes. No wonder that antipodean pop-princess Kylie Minogue wanted to collaborate with múm on the »Whistle«, the main song in 2012-movie »Jack & Diane«.

Recorded in, among other places, the band’s practice-space, an old baltic farmhouse and on the kitchen-table after dinner, the album was produced by múm themselves. And being the revolving collective they are, it comes as no surprise that we see the return of former member Gyda. Defining satellites as part of the core fits nicely with the band’s penchant for ambivalence - in fact that's part of the album's charm.

In 1999, on December 23 to be precise, the electronic music landscape changed forever. On that day, the now legendary Icelandic band múm released their debut album “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”. The thing is though, back in the day, hardly anybody realized. It was Christmas after all, people were busy with potentially more important things and didn’t pay attention to some kids selling records on Reykjavík’s high street. Little did those shoppers know.

Thankfully, those 10 tracks weren’t overlooked for long. On the contrary: the album went on to become one of the most influential building blocks of what back then was called electronica and today is considered an art form playing a crucial and important role in shaping and defining the rich electronic music culture of the 21st century. Now, 20 years after the record dropped onto planet Earth, Morr Music is re-issuing the remastered album with its original artwork, adding newly commissioned re-works: A note-for-note representation of “Smell Memory“ by Kronos Quartet (with additional drums by múm’s Samuli Kosminen), a gentle reinterpretation of “Random Summer” by acclaimed pianist and composer Hauschka and an otherworldly new version of “Ballad Of The Broken String” recorded by label mate Sóley. Additionally, four remixes produced in the early 2000s are made available for the first time ever on vinyl here.

In 1999, electronic music was in full bloom. The dance floors were thriving worldwide.Yet the concept of using electronic sounds in acoustic-based productions (or vice versa) was still in its infancy. Many producers were trying, most of them failed. The results felt often forced, fabricated, unimaginative, random and forgettable. New ideas require new mindsets after all. With “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”, múm established a new approach in music production. Instead of setting a fixed agenda and working with a distinct hierarchy for their sonic palette, Gyða Valtýsdóttir, Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Smárason let each instrument and sound source be true to itself, creating an ever-evolving universe of sonic bliss. Listening to the album in 2019 still makes every music lover’s heart jump. Combining Drill-and-Bass-inspired beat-chopping, future-informed DSP-programming, ethereal vocal work, indie rock’s boominess, folk music’s soulful brittleness and a lofty feeling for melody and arrangement, the album is a rare example of musical transcendence and remains impossible to categorize.

Many of the ideas formulated and recorded for the album quickly became an integral part of the canonical self-conception musicians around the world were and still are aspiring to. How these ideas really came about, though, is not known – the dynamics, the struggles, the qualms, the sudden realization of having achieved something which might actually stick. Maybe that is a good thing. Örvar Smárason remembers that most of the album “was recorded in a tiny, sweaty room in the summer of 1999 with carpenters banging nails around us, but sometimes we put on headphones so we couldn’t hear them.” It is a good thing they did. As is often the case with classics, all one can do is listen closely and let the magic sink in – again and again.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

»Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« is an introduction to the folk-pop world of Eddie Marcon. It follows in the footsteps of other collections of Japanese artists on Morr Music, such as yumbo, Andersens, and the »Minna Miteru« compilations. »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« draws together songs from Eddie Marcon’s twenty-two-year history, including fragile, yet rich in melody material, collected from a prodigious run of limited edition, self-released CD-Rs.

Eddie Marcon is the project of Eddie Corman and Jules Marcon, who met through their involvement in Japan’s underground music scene. Eddie was a member of noise-rock duo Coa, while both Eddie and Marcon were part of psych-rock collective LSD-March. Forming in 2001, Eddie Marcon’s sound is markedly different from these groups, though they do, at times, share a sense of psychedelic dislocation, through the gentle, limpid pace of their songs. But with Eddie Marcon, melody and gentleness is at the music’s core.

They’ve long marked out their own, unique territory within a worldwide community of psych-folk and folk-pop artists; sharing their music through a subterranean network of colleagues and friends, they count groups like The Pastels and The Notwist as their fans, and Eddie has collaborated with the likes of Shintaro Sakamoto, and Aki Tsuyuko (in Tondekebana, and with Marcon and Ippei Matsui in the quartet Wasurerogusa). Eddie Marcon have also recently worked with drummer Ikuro Takahashi, who’s played with groups such as Fushitsusha, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te.

Across the songs on »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, Eddie Marcon’s songs are performed by Eddie on guitar, organ and vocals, and Marcon on bass; they’re variously joined by Takahashi, Yojiro Tatekawa (drums), Tomoko Kageyama (vibraphone), Yasuhisa Mizutani (flute), Madoka Asakura (vocals), and Ztom Motoyama (pedal steel). The arrangements are pared back to best serve the core of each song, and the playing is gorgeous – fluent but not showy; capable of great intricacy, but aware that simplicity is key to direct communication.

Songs like »Mayonaka No Ongaku« stretch their limbs languidly, the music shivering with beauty as guitar and cymbal drift across Eddie’s poised vocal delivery. »Tora To Lion« began as an improvisation, but it’s become a firm favourite of the group’s fans: as Eddie says, »it has become a very important song for us, to the extent that it can be said to be our representative song.«

Perhaps the most moving thing about »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, though, is the way it captures the subtle yet significant moments of everydayness that ask for our attention. »Shoujo«, a song for a beloved cat who passed away, possesses rare emotional resonance. »At the end of the song,« Eddie remembers, »I wanted to have her throat rumbling endlessly.« When the song was cut, a television voice appeared behind the purring, saying ›thank you‹. »For us, it felt like words from Poco-chan, and tears came to our eyes.«

»Nuts of Ay«, the thirteenth album by the Berlin-based electronic pop duo Tarwater (Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram), is their first in a decade, since 2014’s »Adrift«. Beautifully poised and smartly dressed, it's an album that draws Tarwater’s various pasts into a high-definition present, while bringing the duo, yet again, into productive dialogue with all kinds of fellow travellers.

Tarwater’s music has always been marked by a hypnotic pop-ness, but that’s particularly evident on »Nuts of Ay«, where a song like »Hideous Kiss« weaves together jangling guitar, pastoral flute, and flittering electronics into a gem-like construction. While the lyrics of »Hideous Kiss« are written by the duo, »Nuts of Ay« also continues a longstanding Tarwater tradition of recasting the words of others in their own mould. This time, their remit is broad: poetry from Derek Jarman (»All Nuns«) and Millner Place (»Trapdoor Spider«); lyrics from Jean Kenbrovin (»I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles«), the late Shane MacGowan (»USA«) and, again, John Lennon (»Everybody Had a Hard Year«).

This cast of found and borrowed lyricists also finds collaborative echo in the guest musicians dotted throughout »Nuts of Ay«. Schneider TM turns up on the lovely, Felt-like »Spirit of Flux«, where guitars channel the tangled reveries of Vini Reilly and Maurice Deebank into lush pop. Carsten Nicolai joins, as Alva Noto, dappling »On Waves and Years« with intimate glitching textures; he also provides the album cover art. Elsewhere, Masha Qrella appears on »Down Comes the Goose«, and actor Lars Rudolph pitches in for »USA«.

It may have been ten years since the album's predecessor, but Lippok and Jestram have kept active with other projects. They’ve collaborated with Masha Qrella, Immersion, and Iggy Pop; worked on radio plays with Kai Grehn, some based on the writing of Nick Cave (»The Sick Bag Song«, featuring Tilda Swinton, Paula Beer and Alexander Fehling) and William S. Burroughs (»The Cat Inside«); and made music for several radio-tatorts (radio plays based on »Tatort«, a long-running German police TV series) by playwright Tom Peuckert.

Both voracious and committed in their creative energies, Jestram and Lippok report back from these experiments with »Nuts of Ay«, one of their most compelling, deeply lustrous, dreamlike albums yet. They say there was no concept for the album, which is surprising, perhaps, given its holistic mood, explaining it »grew together like a coral reef in the studio over a period of several years«. There’s something to be said for letting an album gather and mutate naturally, without an overarching framework in place, and »Nuts of Ay« certainly feels like an unforced collection of material that nonetheless inhabits a similar space, one where guitars twist like driftwood next to amorphous, aqueous electronics, Lippok’s droll yet completely convincing vocal delivery riding songs that pulse and plume with curious, unpredictable rhythms.

But you can also hear elements – submerged but still present – of other music that’s inspired the duo: they’ve drawn some connections for us with psychedelic folk, Bowie in Berlin, Burial, and the film music of Popol Vuh and Krzysztof Komeda. This music shares a strong sense of place – whether in the world, or the mind – and the twelve songs on »Nuts of Ay« have such similar presence; a shared mood, a shared world, a shared sense of the possibilities of what electronic pop music could, and should, be. A bold and brave pop experiment.

Artwork by Carsten Nicolai
Mastering by Bo Kondren, Calyx Berlin

»Trapdoor Spider«, »On Waves and Years« & »Breaking Day«: lyrics by Milner Place
»All Nuns«: lyrics by Derek Jarman
»USA«: lyrics by Shane MacGowan
»Down Comes the Goose«: lyrics from a traditional song
»Forever Blowing Bubbles«: lyrics by Jaan Kenbrovin
»Everybody Had a Hard Year«: lyrics by John Lennon

Following a ten-year hiatus, multi-instrumentalists Rafael Anton Irisarri and Benoît Pioulard return with »How to Color a Thousand Mistakes«, their third LP together as Orcas. Building on the electronic minimalism of »Orcas« (2012) and the Twin Peaks-inspired haze of »Yearling« (2014), the duo have expanded their sound and vision into a full-spectrum ensemble.

In the time since their last major collaboration, Irisarri and Pioulard have done plenty on their own, while also traversing significant life changes: relocation from Seattle to New York, separation and divorce, illness, hospitalizations, and the loss of siblings, parents, and friends. Yet from these tribulations, they gleaned inspiration to reconstruct their lives, creating music with new collaborators and partners. Recorded in a variety of studios and cities including Brooklyn, Cambridge, Oxford, Seattle, and upstate New York, the resulting album, under the tutelage of UK producer James Brown (Arctic Monkeys, Kevin Shields, Nine Inch Nails), is a patiently-crafted beast, equally inspired by impressionism, British new wave, and dream pop.

With Irisarri’s guidance and Brown’s encouragement, Pioulard brings his velvety voice to its harmonized peak on songs like »Wrong Way to Fall« and the Durutti Column-indebted »Fare«. Where his most recent solo albums for Morr Music (»Sylva« and »Eidetic«) navigated foggy forests of ambient pop and stacked tape loops, here his characteristic blur shifts into focus with a unique degree of clarity and confidence. »How fare against balance do I / Navigate my errors?«, Pioulard sings in a heartbreaking tenor, echoing the album’s broader themes of introspection, grief, loss, trial and trauma.

Lead single, »Riptide«, is a summary of Pioulard’s life changes and personal upheavals in the past decade, »flitting eastward toward a yen deep in the past« and learning to glide through the tumult of ocean waves, as a metaphor for the punches one takes in pursuit of grace. Its towering, key-changing midsection arrives with the monumental drumming of Slowdive’s Simon Scott, a long-time friend and cohort who appears on most songs in the set. Scott’s quintessentially English, jazzier approach offers a balance of force and restraint as the backdrop for Irisarri’s majestic guitars, analog synth lines, and Martin Heyne’s Fender Rhodes counterpoints.

Second single, »Next Life«, began as a sketch by Scott, and reached its final form in the hands of Pioulard and Irisarri, at a point that each had endured major concurrent losses, finding a commonality in the need to gaze over the horizon while acknowledging the unavoidable bittersweetness of letting go – not only of people, but of routines, places, and expectations. It’s one of Orcas’ most nuanced pieces, with a mid-tempo, sunset glow that unfolds into a sparkling, slide-guitar finale as it disappears in the rear view.

On third-act highlight, »Bruise«, Scott is doubled on the drum kit by MONO’s Dahm Majuri Cipolla, whose Liebezeit-influenced metronomy anchors a nimble bass groove from Andrew Tasselmyer (of Hotel Neon), and some of the album's most syncopated, spaced-out interplay, courtesy of Puerto Rican guitar player Orlando Méndez (a childhood friend of Irisarri’s). Originally a droney, fingerpicked guitar demo, »Bruise« is the most storied composition here, having gone through almost a dozen versions and lyrical edits, with Brown distilling hours of improvised performances into the final arrangement.

Throughout »How to Color a Thousand Mistakes«, Irisarri uses his deep well of production experience to paint the stereo field with meticulously designed textures, exemplified on the slow burn of »Heaven’s Despite« and the heady rush of »Swells«. As a mixing and mastering engineer with Black Knoll, he has built a client list that reads as a who’s-who of modern, forward-thinking composition, including Temporary Residence, All Saints Records, and Ghostly International, among many others.

As with previous collaborations, Irisarri and Pioulard bring disparate styles and specialties to the table, but with an interpersonal dynamic that transcends friendship into brotherhood, their open-minded workflow and mutual respect are evident at every turn. »How to Color a Thousand Mistakes« brims with tight, complex art rock songwriting, masterful production, and sonic versatility, informed by a plethora of genres and tonal hues. The title might promise answers, but the gravitational center of the album is the dawning realization that, as you reckon with the infinite whims of the cosmos, there could be none.

In 1998, Carsten Nicolai, also known as Alva Noto, visited a sound installation created by Robert Lippok for a group exhibition in Weimar, Germany. Soon after, he invited Lippok to release music on his label raster-noton. "Open Close Open" was released in 2001 and marked the beginning of Lippok"s solo career. Before, Lippok had already played in Ornament und Verbrechen (with his brother Ronald Lippok) and To Rococo Rot (with Ronald Lippok and Stefan Schneider). The source material for "Open Close Open" initially served as a soundtrack for a video by Takehito Koganezawa, a visual artist from Japan. For this remastered vinyl reissue, Lippok revisited the original sound material and produced a new track called "Licht."

toechter is an all-female trio operating from Berlin. toechter’s 2nd full-length album »Epic Wonder« sees its classically trained members blend elaborate string arrangements with ethereal indie pop and delicate rhythms. Katrine Grarup Elbo, Lisa Marie Vogel and Marie-Claire Schlameus exclusively use analogue sound sources (such as violin, viola, cello, and their voices), which were then electronically processed.

Named after the Greek god of the wind, toechters 2022 album »Zephyr« exhaled deeply with concurrently invigorating and confusing sounds. »Epic Wonder«, their second album, was created in the spring and summer of 2023. Playing with forms and contours, the music sounds like the awakening of something new. One seems to be listening to an ongoing conversation, an exchange about what music could be, where it wants to go and how it contributes to our view of life. It all rests on a simple premise:

»Every sound you hear in our universe comes from us. The string trio is the core of toechter, the starting point of all our work.«

Those looking for new worlds of sound can find them in the work of this classically- trained musicians. Whether they add voices or percussive instruments, sample the sounds, or manipulate them electronically; ultimately they are exploring the string trio's place in a world shaped by the digital.

»Prelude« opens the album, seemingly a conversation, yet not only between humans. We catch the word ›love‹ which soon morphs into pure sound images, while a violin theme tentatively takes over. Is it the dawning of a new day? The chorus of sound transforms into a fascinating rhythmic figure, creating a club-like experience that fades out in delicate structures. A perpetual transformation.

According to toechter, »Epic Wonder« is all about making connections. Connections between people, animals, plants, fungi, rocks, soils, oceans, ice caps, stars, and planets. One imagines oneself in a folk-pop song of the 60s, or even blown around by Morricone's desert wind:

»The world as we see it is in desperate need for a deeper understanding; for compassion, for empathy. We have to understand that we are all part of the same organism. Epic Wonder is a dream, a wish, a longing for kinship between all species that share the world - all that is alive.«

The acoustic throbbing and knocking in »Sea Of Serenity« makes you think of encounters with mythical creatures or planetary oceanography; and out of the mechanically clacking groove of »Shift Souls« a gentle, but steady movement awakens with voices that seem to sound from the depths of the sea. Everything is in flux, floating in and out of dimensions and elements.

The album ends with »Mercury«, spherically elegant and almost science fiction-like. Here, a pizzicato melody leads us back to the baroque, simultaneously representing a detail of intertwined sonic worlds, while the steady, housy baseline develops its driving theme.

»Creating the music for the album, we allowed ourselves to waft away with the aspiration that connections are possible. Sometimes dwelling on subtle, yet marveling phenomena like the evening fog covering a valley on Midsummer, sometimes on grandiose splendors like the genesis of mountains or the birth of a child - letting interactions and encounters with other beings float through the musical universe as drips of emotional perceptivity.«

For the visual manifestation of »Epic Wonder«, toechter has engaged with Finish up-and-coming lens-based artist Aino Kontinen. Her work will grace both the cover art of the album and accompany the first single and video as an ephemeral tale in motion.

Originally released in 2003 on CD via Post-Parlo Records, and two years later on vinyl via Morr Music, the »Home EP« sees Benjamin Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie, The Postal Service) and Andrew Kenny (The American Analog Set) each contributing three original tracks and playing one of the other's songs. This 2023 vinyl edition is released via Morr Music (EU+UK) and Barsuk Records (US). It features the artwork by Jan Kruse, that was originally made for the 2005 Morr Music version.

The EP was released as the fifth and final volume of the early-’00s series of split albums on Austin, TX indie Post-Parlo, the Gibbard/Kenny pairing followed short contributions in the series from such varied notable early-aughts indie artists as Kind of Like Spitting, Britt Daniel (Spoon), Bright Eyes, Pavo and Super XX Man.

Gibbard and Kenny’s installment came out during a prolific era for both writers: The American Analog Set had released the classic »Know By Heart« album in 2001 and followed it in 2003 with the acclaimed »Promise of Love«, while Gibbard’s profile was rising significantly via the critical and commercial success of The Postal Service’s »Give Up« and Death Cab’s »Transatlanticism«. Unlike the more lush arrangements of their main projects, both Kenny and Gibbard took a simple approach for their entry into the Home series, recording on cassette four-track machines in their respective living rooms in New York and Seattle and each performing four exclusive stripped-down tracks (including a cover of one of the other’s songs – Kenny choosing a rendition of Death Cab’s »Line of Best Fit« and Gibbard delivering his version of AmAnSet’s »Choir Vandals«).

»Home EP« showcases two brilliant songwriters whose legacies continue to shine twenty years later. The American Analog Set recently announced »For Forever«, their seventh album and first new music in 18 years, which was released last week and followed the band’s announcement earlier this year that The Numero Group will reissue their first three albums »The Fun of Watching Fireworks« (1996), »From Our Living Room to Yours «(1997), and »The Golden Band« (1999) as a vinyl boxset in early 2024.

Benjamin Gibbard has recently finished fronting both bands on the sold out Death Cab for Cutie / The Postal Service co-headline tour of arenas and amphitheaters in the United States celebrating the 20th anniversary of »Give Up« and »Transatlanticism«.

For their fourth album, »Bear In Town«, indie avant-pop supergroup Spirit Fest made a virtue of distance, with group members split across Europe, and recording sessions taking place after a brief 2021 tour of Europe. It’s an object lesson in perseverance and commitment, as the music here is some of Spirit Fest’s most moving yet. The six songs on this album illuminate different aspects of the transnational quintet’s character – lovely, heart-rending pop songs; melancholy chants; the joys of simple repetition – with the group’s guitar pop tended by gentle flourishes of piano and electronics.

Some of those flourishes were spirited onto »Bear In Town« across the waves, with Mat Fowler (Bons, Jam Money) contributing from Britain, while the body of the music was recorded in a small apartment studio in Munich by the other members of Spirit Fest: Saya and Ueno (Tenniscoats), Markus Acher (The Notwist) and Cico Beck (Joasinho, Aloa Input). »Bear In Town« is concise and powerful, the infectious joy of the spirit communicated, beautifully, by melodies that balance the heartfelt with the melancholy. Reflecting on those sessions, Acher says, »I think the album captures how well we played together at that time.« It’s all the more impressive given this material was put down live in the studio, with a few vocal overdubs. The depth of feeling at the core of Spirit Fest’s music is evident from the opening notes of »Bear In Town«.

»Kou-Kou Land«, the first song on the album, recalls several earlier Tenniscoats songs, like »Baibaba Bimba«, in the way the musicians weave gentle complexity around a simple, repeated chant; the stop-start structure of »Kou-Kou Land« builds anticipation, while Saya’s simple melody is lovely, delivered in an absent-minded hum that’s deeply affecting. »Lost & Found« revolves around a delightful descending chord change that breaks up the swaying, folksy verses, gorgeous electronic whirrs and purring winds floating through the song. The following »In Our House« possesses such sweet sadness, it’s one of Spirit Fest’s most moving songs yet.

»Like A Plane« repurposes a song that Markus Acher originally wrote and recorded for his solo EP of the same title, released on a 2022 10-inch single on Morr Music. The original was a gentle, introverted lament, but the version on »Bear In Town« has a widescreen tenderness, its melancholy framed by raindrop piano. The album concludes with two moments of playful splendour, the bossa-inflected »Hill Blo«, and the driving title track, both led by Saya, who is in stunning voice on this album; on »Bear In Town«, her awestruck wonder perfectly captures the sense of possibility in the song’s capacious chords. Like the rest of the album, it’s full of kindness, rich with psych-pop splendour… a balm for troubled times.

Robin Saville - one half of the influential duo ISAN - returns to Morr Music with »Lore«, his fourth solo album to date. After 2020’s »Build A Diorama«, the British musician takes his love for field recordings, whirring pads, hovering bells and subtle electronics further, adding extra depth to both his sonic palette and his storytelling, focussing on biological diversity and its implications for human life.

For many years now, ›look and listen‹ has been Robin Saville's motto on his regular environmental explorations. The avid ambler does not just enjoy being out and about in nature; it is an important inspiration for his creative work as well. Sounds, smells, colours and even soil properties add to the experience. Equipped with a microphone and a recording device, Saville documents his strolls, using these recordings as a base for his compositions. »The field recordings on the album were made very locally this time, for obvious reasons,« he says. Welcome to the sonic landscape of the UK's East Anglia.

»Judith Avenue«, the opening track, is a great example of how Saville evolved his perspective on the sounds of nature: »It is a residential street, fading into a scrubby, wild landscape. There, I made a recording of nightingales at dusk. Such romantic birds! The males fly here from Africa a couple of weeks ahead of the females. They find a good territory, and at dusk, when all the other birds are going quiet, they start to sing to tempt the females down from their migratory flight paths. This has happened for thousands of years. However, the patch of ground where I made the recordings is earmarked for development and I don't suppose it'll happen there again. The recordings therefore become part of the history of that place, the lore.«

Recording the sounds of nature and enriching them with electronic sorcery, Saville is not only a documenting preservationist; he also translates these recordings into meaningful musical miniatures. Building on the soundscapes that marked his previous LP »Build A Diorama«, »Lore« is dominated by both open-hearted melancholy and more upbeat rhythms. But even when the music sounds quirky and loose, there is always deeper meaning. The album is characterised by an ever present melancholy about the threatening loss of living spaces, and a celebration of their beauty. This simultaneity turns the tracks into existential meditations about our human habitat. Saville enriches our lives musically by addressing the very issues we often ignore. At the same time, he becomes an agent of hope and change. Moving between light and dark, »Lore« is a musical allegory of where we stand today.

»The album is a document of places and times and while it is certainly a celebration of those things, it is also a record of things we are losing. That's how interaction with nature feels to me nowadays: something precious and amazing, but with an underlying sadness about the destructive relationship that humanity seems inevitably to have with the world around it.«

Let's not lose any more things.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

A Notwist concert is a Notwist concert is a Notwist concert. The band around the core trio of Cico Beck and the Acher brothers Markus and Micha usually takes its studio recordings as a mere starting point for their live performances, considering them to be possibilities that need to be explored further. This is especially true for »Vertigo Days - Live from Alien Research Center,« a live record made under unusual circumstances. The band members rearranged songs from their ambitious 2021 album »Vertigo Days« in their studio in Weilheim to record and film a special performance. The songs took on a new life, becoming more psychedelic and intense when rearranged into a spontaneous, Krautrock-esque collage.

»Vertigo Days« was meant to transcend the conventional notion of a band as well as the creative and geographic boundaries inscribed into that concept. And even though life had other plans, this is precisely what the album did when it was released to both commercial success and critical acclaim in early 2021. Contributions by Tenniscoats singer Saya, Angel Bat Dawid, Ben LaMar Gay, Juana Molina, among others, as well as new member Theresa Loibl on bass clarinet, harmonium, and keyboard, expanded the band’s sonic palette, stylistic range, and even lyrical focus through the addition of different instruments, artistic approaches, and languages.

All of that was missing when the band retreated to their studio—dubbed Alien Research Center in response to, and in spite of, a nearby church called Christian Outreach Center—to further explore the possibilities of the source material. The band members considered this a challenge rather than an insurmountable problem and not only accepted, but fully embraced it. Trying to work as little as possible with the computers and samples—Saya’s voice on »Ship« being a notable exception—the band rearranged six tracks from »Vertigo Days« and a piece from the »One of Those Days« film soundtrack in order to allow themselves to improvise more freely, especially thanks to Loibl, who takes on a key role during these 45 minutes.

The intro sets the tone for what’s to come, contrasting loose jazz drumming with curious synthesizer rhythms in an abstract rendition of the first sounds that greeted the listeners on »Vertigo Days«. While the next four tracks—»Into Love / Stars«, »Exit Strategy To Myself«, »Where You Find Me« and »Ship«—follow the chronology of the album, they use the originals as a blank slate for further experimentation. The first track morphs into a feverish long-form jam that draws on the underlying groove to shift the dynamics from and leave behind the song structure of the studio version. It’s an exemplary piece in a recording that sees each individual musician leaving their mark on the overall sound, all while being perfectly attuned to what everyone else is doing around them. This continues up until the record’s triumphant finale, a whirring rendition of »Loose Ends.«

»Vertigo Days - Live from Alien Research Center« is at once a snapshot of a certain moment in the band’s history and the quintessential Notwist live record: a unique performance that both explores the untapped potential of the »Vertigo Days« studio recordings while also serving as an inspiration for upcoming live shows.

As with the studio album, the artwork for »Vertigo Days - Live from Alien Research Center« features photographs by Japanese artist Lieko Shiga, taken in the '00s.

2023 Repress on Yellow Vinyl

On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.