Cerca:mark fisher

I remember the first time I read W.E.B. DuBois eclectic masterpiece The Souls of Black Folk. The way in which this Weberian scholar flowed from personal account to prose to sociological analysis to music and even political intervention has had a lasting impact on my own work as a cultural anthropologist. It made me understand that as scholars we must use different means in order to give expression to the totality of the lived experience: There is only so much in an academic text.

The experience of alienation has always been at the heart of my scholarly and artistic practice. I have used academic writing, lecturing, theatre performance and electronic improvisation to understand and represent it as a theoretical concept, postcolonial condition and lived experience. I believe, some issues need to be told like a story, some analyzed in most abstract terms and others need to be sung like a gospel. The medium changes the message.

In this sense, I guess, I’m a singing cultural anthropologist.

For some time now I have been engaged in the use of dystopian themes and sounds to paint a sonic picture of structural racism and whiteness of our present. But recently I have grown weary of this Ballardian idea of Future Now and the resulting phantasmagorian aesthetics myself and others have been invested in. The widespread availability of Digital Audio Workstations, sequencers, loopers and delay pedals has lead us into a futuristic cul de sac best described by Mark Fisher as the very absence of future.

Likewise, I am most skeptical of the “naturalist” countermovement, the return of folk. Especially in Germany, I am convinced there is no such thing as an innocent or progressive folk musical expression as it is always connected to the idea of the homeland (“Heimat”) which in turn produces the colony. It seems to me, the current zeitgeist is stuck between a “museum of a dystopian future” and a “museum of an idealized past”, but I wanted to sing about the present.

So, I involuntarily returned to pop music in its two-folded meaning of something popular and addressing not an essentialist notion of “Volk” or its woke cousin “communities”, but society as a whole.

I entered the studio just with a few lo-fi sounding melodies and rhythms from my circuit bent CASIO synthesizer. I had no clue what the finished product would sound like. But as soon as Markus started drumming, in a way strangely reminding me of CAN’s Ethnographic Forgery Series, my uptight sounds were suddenly embedded within a warmer global sound spectrum. The alien at home and abroad and the strange overlapped: We were seeing one and the same sound differently but were gently held together by Tobias’ producing.

Making music is about building coalitions. It’s about suggesting an articulation of styles, sounds and people, that hasn’t materialized, yet, but may help us in the current crisis: I wanted Amon Düül II to send their drug induced archangel thunderbird to rescue the refugees, that had tried to escape the police by climbing up a tree in Munich in 2016. I wanted Sun Ra to taunt far-right protesters in Chemnitz in 2018. And I wanted to mourn the loss of a former kebab shop cum discotheque that served as proof that there is such a thing as a minoritarian universalism.

SCHLAND IS THE PLACE FOR ME is a pop album featuring songs of alienation, not only as a tragic experience, but as a pop-cultural promise. Maybe Bill Callahan sung it best, “I am Star Wars today, I am no longer English grey”. I want those who suffer from alienation to stand in alliance with those who seek alienation, and vice-versa. A coalition, that tolerates the possibility that we are moved by the same groove for contrary reasons.

Fehler Kuti
Munich, Autumn 2019

Music by Julian Warner, Markus Acher & Tobias Siegert
Saxophone on RINDERMARKT by Franz Brunner
Trombone on RINDERMARKT and IL by Matthias Götz
Recorded and mixed by Tobias Siegert in Munich.
SONTAGSFAVORIT mixed by Dario Albiez in Dusseldorf.
Mastered by Duphonic in Augsburg.
Artwork by Atelier Grande, Munich.

"The kind of melancholia I'm talking about, by contrast, consists not in giving up on desire, but in refusing to yield. It consists, that is to say, in a refusal to adjust to what current conditions call 'reality' - even if the cost of that refusal is that you feel like an outcast in your own time." (Mark Fisher, Ghosts Of My Life, Zero Books 2014, p. 24) In Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures', the author Mark Fisher outlines - to put it in a big way - a resistant melancholy. This stands in contrast to leftist melancholy resignation', as well as something which Fisher does not talk about: its common masculine counterpart, habitual post-left cynicism - as in seen it all before'. Fisher calls this hauntological melancholy. Haunting, spooks, ghosts and apparitions are an almost constant presence on I Started Wearing Black', the second album by the Cologne-based artist Sonae (pronounced so-nah'). The term hauntology shares a fate with retro-futurism when it comes to inflationary overuse and abuse. It's a conceptual container that looks good and can hold a lot, indeed, too much. Furthermore, hauntology has its peak season behind it, a term on the threshold of its expiration date. Nevertheless, I would like to rehabilitate hauntology and use it properly to characterize I Started Wearing Black', because the term is rarely as compelling to describe music as is the case here. The most recent other example could be Asiatisch' by Fatma Al Qadiri, but with a completely different frame of reference. What are the ghosts of this music It rustles, crackles, ruffles, crunches, rattles, scrapes, sometimes a beat emerges from the constant noise, sometimes an obscure voice mumbles incomprehensibly, sometimes a melancholy piano figure is prevented by this noise from coming too much to the foreground. It definitely is eerie - to bring into play another term used by Fisher in the title of his latest book, The Weird and the Eerie'. In British pop-jargon, eerie first occurred to me more often when referring to particularly leftfield, spooky and... well... ghostly dub, a bass-heavy, echoing noise, from Augustus Pablo to Creation Rebel to Burial. Unlike the Wald & Wagner records by Wolfgang Voigt, Sonae is not a kind of neo-romantic veiling with a tendency for escapist nebula. It is more a noise of latency. The noise signals a latent - not necessarily acute - threat, a latent uneasiness about... yes... about what About a System Immanent Value Defect' That's the name of a track on I Started Wearing Black' where something that sounds like a French Horn (or a foghorn) battles for attention through or against the background noise. An email from Sonae: The piece 'System Immanent Value Defect' should actually be called 'I See Turkey'. I wrote it for my fellow student Elif - she is a pianist and Gezi Park activist from Istanbul. Through her I witnessed the inner conflict and agitation that political circumstances can create: her feelings of guilt when there was an attack, with her safe in Germany as a student, watching the events from afar. It was horrible. When her mother begged her not to come home because she feared for her safety, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I started with the piece from this mood, beginning with the piano, then the noise (modulated sinusoidal curves), which reminded me of waves and the then heatedly discussed Mediterranean sea: atmospheric, melancholy motifs. In contrast is the anger, the pressure, represented in corresponding sounds - hopefully audible! - During this time I started to think about world views as they can be found around the globe, in how far they held by societies and their political representation. I realized that I know of no political system that is actually about the people and what would do them good. It's always about positions, power, money. I thought that was a lot more frightening on a global scale than merely viewing Turkey in isolation. That's why the piece is called "System Immanent Value Defect", because our world suffers from precisely that. Everywhere, it's all about the wrong things.' Between the wrong things there are happy moments. In the title track, after 184 seconds of rattling and hissing, a beat is unleashed, like an arrow released from a spanned bow, a beatific relief, if there is such a thing. White Trash Rouge Noir' first meanders along spookily, then after 144 seconds it transforms itself into a distant cousin of Einstu¨rzende Neubauten's Yu¨ Gung', but there is no Big Male Ego to be fed here, and the black in the album title is a completely different type of black from that of the Neubauten. Furthermore, I Started Wearing Black' was finished long before the black dresses were worn at the Golden Globes as a sign of protest against sexual violence. Sonae writes that she herself started wearing black some time ago. Her reasons are so-called personal ones: ... resulting from an individual situation (lovesickness), I started to wear black (gaining weight and feeling ugly).' The political dimension of gaining weight, feeling ugly and therefore dressing in black in I Started Wearing Black' lurks within the noise and never becomes explicit and only rarely manifest - or a manifesto. Sonae writes about the track We Are Here': A piece for minorities... in this case, considering the current pop-feminist discourse, explicitly for women. Female artists have long been saying loud and clear that 'we are here' and 'electronic music is not a boys club!' But this pop-feminist moment should only be seen as one part of the dedication of the piece. It is for minorities, for the oppressed, who didn't belong enough.'

Klaus Walter

The latest release from Bjarki Runar's bbbbbb label sees Bjarki delving back into his vast archives and shines a light on a bizarre detour during the early days of the label that involved
a peculiar commission from the Icelandic state. Bjarki introduces the story; 'It was back in 2015 and we were only just putting together the original plans towards making bbbbbb a label. While this was happening, I got a call from a friend who was
working for a local tech start-up and marketing company. They'd been contacted by the Icelandic Ministry of Fisheries and Agriculture who came to them with a weird proposition.
They were looking at the idea of marketing Icelandic lamb as this user-exclusive commodity for high end restaurants, the same way they do with Kobe beef in Japan. His marketing company was going all in with this idea of creating an elite herd of sheep that would get the 5-star treatment - fresh food and beer, shampoo and geothermal baths for their fleece, and entertainment such as TV and music for when they were in the hills. That's where I came in'. The initial meeting between Bjarki and the marketeers however didn't go as smoothly as they hoped; 'When I met my friend and his team, they were going to have music pumped through a series of remote speakers across the hillside' Bjarki explains. 'But when they showed me what they were going to play to them, I almost fell of my chair laughing! It was all this
cheesy, easy listening, orchestral Icelandic bullshit. I said to them 'This is nonsense! Why are you bringing me into this project if that's all you're going to be playing' In the end, I told
them I would completely redo all the sounds and music they were going to be using. I was going to drag the Icelandic sheep into the 21st Century'. Bjarki was as good as his word. Over the summer of 2015, he spent several weeks at farm
locations near Kirkjubæjarklaustur and Reykholtsdalur, walking the hills and playing a variety of sounds and beats to various flocks of sheep to see what the best approach was. It
was tough going at first; 'At the beginning, I was working totally blind', Bjarki explains. 'Imean how can you possibly know what sort of modern music and sounds Icelandic sheep
would go for' But Bjarki persevered and he found certain sounds and tones made the sheep more active and engaged.
From this point, he began to make tracks that would encapsulate what the lambs were drawn to the most. 'A track like Soda 'Sugarlicious' for example, came about when I started
playing Candy Crush on the hillside. As I kept playing, the sheep began to gather around me showing interest in the bright chintzy sounds coming from my laptop and that deep voice that
would keep speaking to you. I simply put together a track that was all shiny colours and heavy on the chimes. The sheep fucking loved it!' A track like 'Drab' meanwhile was suited
for less sunny moments. 'I got caught in a nasty rainstorm, so I started playing these synth lines I had made, along with an improvised kick drum. The mix of the softness of the tones
along with the hit of the bass cased the sheep to follow me all the way back to the farm I was staying at. The farmer wasn't too impressed with that, but the flock was completely
hypnotized'. In the end Bjarki, amassed several tracks ranging from soft ambient to gnarly hardcore bangers to present to the Ministry. But in the end, they decided not to go with the whole
proposal. 'These people were fools', Bjarki says. 'They just couldn't get their heads around doing something completely different, that was a bit of fun yes, but was completely done in a
serious manner. We all spent weeks doing this stuff so yeah, it was a bit gutting'. In the end though, there is a silver lining to this story as these efforts were not wasted for we can now hear the best of Bjarki's efforts from this admittedly weird project on a limited 12'release that marks a storming 2017 for the bbbbbb label.

It is a distinct honour and privilege to welcome the legendary musicianWally BadaroutoDiskotopiawithThe Unnamed Trilogy Vol.1, a collection of recent solo work presented for the first time as a limited-edition 12" and select digital EP,marking the first vinyl release of his solo music since 1989.The release has already gained a great deal of excitement following its announcement on FACT magazine, The Vinyl Factory, Resident Advisor and other media in early August.

Wally Badarou is a visionary musician who over the years has forged a history that is immensely storied, diverse and creatively rich. He has not only released timeless solo material such as the incredible Echoes LP in 1984 (part of which reached a new generation of music fans when the track Mambo was sampled for Massive Attack's Daydreaming), but has also recorded on classic albums with luminaries such as Grace Jones, Sly & Robbie, Mick Jagger, Fela Kuti, Robert Palmer, Jimmy Cliff, Black Uhuru and Talking Heads to name just a few. Both co-founders of Diskotopia have been huge fans of Mr. Badarou's work since before the label's inception and are elated to present The Unnamed Trilogy Vol.1 to the world at large.

To celebrate Kontra-Musik Records hitting the ten-year mark, founder and label owner Ulf Eriksson has put together a collection of some of our finest releases. This has been a daunting task, for we are happy to announce that we could easily have made several very different compilations that we would have been equally contented with - there are so many superb tracks we had to leave out. This has, however, been a labour of love. Much like the label itself. Eclecticism has always been a lodestar for Ulf Eriksson, as we hope this collection gives testimony to. The label has always been moving freely between techno, house and more experimental sounds. Kontra-Musik intends to show different angels of perspective, not to convert you to a new Religion or Ideology. Being open to a broad variety of sounds and rhythms - judging them not solely by their functionality but rather by their personality - has been the Kontra-Musik way from day one. While it has been a crooked and sometimes exceedingly hard road to follow, we're hoping to carry on for several years to come. After 10 years, the label still feels meaningful and current to us - in short: it's still worth it. Kontra-Musik would like to thank everyone - from contributing artists to faithful friends of the label who have supported us all these years. None of this would have been possible without you.