Cerca:name does not matter

Alien Ensemble's trombone man Mathias Goetz caused quite a splash when he released his eponymous debut LP under his Le Millipede moniker back in 2015: The multi-instrumentalist's initial offering was clearly something else, impossible to grasp, a musical vessel beyond genre, beyond style or era, seemingly beyond space and time even, a vessel that carried an almost cosmic kind of song-craft - music with no fixed stamp of origin, though it did somehow feel like an Alien Transistor release. Followed by remix album Mirror Mirror, which comprised reworks by 1115, Protein, LeRoy, Olaf Opal, and Saroos, to name a few, it's now time for album #2: The Sun Has No Money.Let's face it: There's nothing as majestic as the sun. At least not in our world. If it runs out of juice one day, it's game over: The End. Light's out. For everyone. At that point, it wouldn't even matter if you're rich or poor. We're all equal under the sun. Same level. And yeah, this might not be major news, but then again... we're talking about the sun. The sun! Guess it's about time to acknowledge its power and superiority, right In fact, you can feel it on your bicycle: pedaling at night, when it's on duty in other hemispheres, and you're working hard at the dynamo, sweating, you can actually feel how powerful it is. In the end you get off the bike all recharged, a tune on your lips - and somehow feeling like a miniature version of the sun yourself. And whenever you feel like that, that's exactly the right moment to grab a melodica and get to work.Following an initial warm-up round sans electricity, this new album soon begins to glow: Mathias Goetz aka Le Millipede doesn't need pedals, he boosts circulation by single-handedly* playing tons and tons of different instruments - it actually feels like thousands, easily. And thus begins a show that has countless levels to it: There are various sonic illusions... and yet Le Millipede doesn't hide anything: He's also willing to show the inner workings, the actual recording process and everything else. In short: he goes meta. Makes songs about making songs. That's right: why not use all these beautiful means to address the issue of money It's not the sun that casts shadows, all it does is recharge, fuel: growth & thriving, that's the sun's area of responsibility. And yet there came a man whose plan was simple: steal the fruit from your garden, only to sell it right back to you, for money. We can hear the sea gulls crying in the distance, as somebody is throwing breadcrumbs up into the wind that carries their voices...It's not the sun that casts shadows - all it does is radiate light. And yet there came a time when someone blocked those rays of light. Now if you're some kind of Diogenes, you'll simply say, Move at least a little out of the sun.' But if you're a teacher, you'll maybe light up your pipe and use that to lighten up. What matters is that the percussion parts, in this case, resemble some serious musique concréte. The sun doesn't know shadows - all it knows, is itself. And yet somebody entered the picture and built an entire city. A city full of streets, so that houses can cast shadows into these avenues. Plus, there's music in the streets, music originally written inside the walls of said houses.One of those streets is known as the Tin Pan Alley: a place that got its name from a music writer who compared the sound of so many pianos to the banging of tin pans. That sound: that's one side of the road that is this album. Some of these melodies appear to be shadows of earlier tunes, dating back to, say, 1898 or even before that, melodies that were first registered in the Tin Pan Alley publishers' offices back in 1912 or 1917. We actually get to see this Alley at that point in time. We see the ropes, the workings. How things come together, the actual act of creation. Suddenly, we can hear the shadows!
Okay, so one side of this street is America. The US of A. The opposite side: Russia. And smack dab in the middle: Europe. A pothole in the center. All the back-and-forth that occurs between these two poles ultimately depends on the movement of the sun. Night and day, taking turns, commuting in and out of sight. We get to meet Prokofiew's and Scriabin's ghost, among other spirits, reframed and published by Le Millipede's own imaginary label imprint on the historic Tin Pan Alley. Indeed there are moments on this album when Le Millipede seems to be playing Scriabin's clavier a` lumie`res (tastiera per luce), when his performance seems to be based on synesthesia, a wild cross-pollination of colors and sounds. In case you didn't know this: In the States, Prokofiew goes by the name Brian Wilson, and Scriabin's also known as Sun Ra - yet another guy who's usually broke, but gets to spend a lot of time out in the sun. Together, these assorted protagonists ask the people of the Antilles for Mutabor dance-tokens and send postcards to Moondog in Germany, right back into the darkness. On the postcards you can see people dancing the Biguine...Firing foreign fossil fuels from all pipes (Brennelementsteuer!), Le Millipede controls the very center of this hustle and bustle: going as far as to employ some southern Chopped & Screwed styles, he's 100% current and zeitgeisty! Houston, we've got a problem: there's some kind of myriapod, centi- or millipede on the loose! Well, give me another sip of lean, sizzurp, dirty Sprite, and on goes the journey in the Pullman coach. Let's follow the sun! Keep on moving, keep things motorik! Here comes the Trans-Eureka-Express. Cherish the backpacking days! A piercing rhapsody of sound (bohrende Rhapsodie), we'll remember them fondly! And thus things move on, the sun, the days, the earth: rise, set, action, round and round... onwards eternally. The sun: the biggest loop known to mankind. As if it was some kind of sonic Rube Goldberg contraption, time seems to be stretching out while listening to that hmmm. After all: time is a lot (a lot!) more than just money. And yeah, the sun is the real big shot on (or rather: above) Planet Earth. Le Millipede's live line-up also includes Markus & Micha Acher (The Notwist etc.), Nico Sierig (Joasihno), and Manuela Rzytki (G. Rag & die Landlergschwister, Kamerakino etc.).
*sole exception: Evi Keglmaier (Zwirbeldirn, Hochzeitskapelle) plays the viola. Words/sun worship: Pico Be

STAUB comes back on wax for a third episode. Following the no name policy from the parties which started 5 years ago in ://about blank, it is time again for unknown artist to shine. This new EP sees the shy producer appearing on 4 tracks of pristine techno. A1 is an atmospheric trip while A2 is more brutal, on the B side it is going weirder and darker. We think Unknown Artist tries to craft interesting techno cuts and that he loves variety.

That it is the idea behind STAUB since its beginnings, it does not matter whether you are a newcomer or Lady Gaga, what matters is the quality of the music. This is what was again aimed with this third record.

Rebolledo's YOU AND YOUR HIPPIE FRIENDS imprint grows its groove footprint on international dance floors with the full-length debut of GÜERO, the latest vinyl outing from the Hippie Dance sister label and also its first fully fledged album project. To attentive hippie friends, the artist name should ring a big, funky bell - one that sounds exactly like the cut 'Convertible Ride' from the notorious 'A Very Nice Combinado Volume Uno' 12' release (YAYHF 01).
Back then, our hero was travelling under the somewhat more convoluted 'El Güero Fresa' monicker, but has since dropped some of those conceptual pounds in an effort to reach maximum sleekness. In the same vein, his debut album is a testament to ultimate funk-a-ficiency, digging deep into fizzy arpeggios and chunky basslines - and the occasional guitar cameo, giving tracks such as bubbling synth opener ELEKTRONIQUE, the neon-lit NIGHT CRUISING, bouncing electro disco roller ALTO FINAL or the programmatic SPACE DRIFTER just that little extra riff.
GUITAR MAYHEM, however, is anything but - you'll discover a pretty dank bouncer and certainly not the squealing meltdown one would expect. TECHNO MINIMAL doesn't do what it says on the tin, either, opting for an energetic bass 'n' organ workout instead. By now, you'll begin to understand why the album's called MY WAY MY RULES: GÜERO takes whatever sonic path he desires, no matter what - which is precisely why he chimes so well with YOU AND YOUR HIPPIE FRIENDS's steadily expanding motley crew of rave misfits and studio drop-outs. The way of the hippie is indeed a mysterious one.

With The Object Isn't There UK guitar player and producer Jack Allett has made a deeply personal masterpiece based around cyclical guitar parts and electronic percussion. Playing like a half remembered fever dream with an aesthetic that is ragged, hypnotic and spacey, its two side-long pieces touch on minimalism, kraut-infused dub and euphoric dance floor optimism. As comfortable being played after Manuel Göttschings E2-E4 as right before a Terekke lo-fi house anthem, it is laced with the melancholy of an early morning post-rave comedown. Yet for all the references and name-checking, it's a record that is hard to compare to anything else, past or present.



BIOGRAPHY



Jack Allett works as a producer in London and has been active for many years as an experimental guitar player, releasing a solo record on Blackest Rainbow and collaborating with UK avant-guitar player Cam Deas. The Object Isn't There was written, recorded, and mixed in Camberwell and Camden, London, UK. 2012-2016.



INFO



This record is about - insofar as instrumental music need be about anything - hallucinations. The title The Object Isn't There serves as a concise definition, derived from the quote 'An hallucination is a strictly sensational form of consciousness, as good and true a sensation as if there were a real object there. The object happens to be not there, that is all.' (William James, The Principles Of Psychology, 1890)



Having experienced constant tinnitus - a form of auditory hallucination - for the last 13 years, Jack has long questioned the distinction of something experienced as being either there or not-there. Even if, strictly speaking, an hallucination is something that's not there, if the reality of how it affects day-to-day existence is undeniable then to any extent that matters, it is there. But The Object Isn't There is no tale of woe, nor simply a response to this one condition, and tinnitus need not be considered only as distressing or distracting. Allett sees it merely as one example of many things in life that cross this uncertain terrain:



There are obvious parallels here with the notion of active listening. There is room for emotion too, particularly the kind of overwhelming, -all-consuming emotion that, once it fades, is hard to believe was actually how you felt. Essentially the music here is concerned with being overwhelmed by a sensation, never really being sure to what extent you are conjuring it up yourself, to what extent it exists independently of you, but ultimately deciding that it doesn't much matter; the sensation itself was undeniable.

— Jack Allett

A swirling haze with a plenitude of sounds bobbing to it's surface it's a heartfelt

Tough, to the point, no-nonsense machine music is a longstanding Midwestern tradition.
Drawing a line all the way back to the old guard, The Bunker New York's latest EP is Walk The Distance, courtesy of Mark Verbos, a techno veteran and New Yorker by way of Milwaukee who put together four pieces of heavyweight dancefloor artillery, informed by an intimate, inside-out knowledge of the machinery used in the production of these tracks.

"I've been doing this for a long time. In the beginning, there was only hardware, and it feels better to make music with physical objects. Plus, I make hardware, too," says Verbos, recounting his production processes. Verbos not only produces music, he also produces the hardware he uses to make music—his company, Verbos Electronics, manufactures Eurorack synthesizer modules with a vintage sensibility. When he's making music, Verbos says, "I try to get to know the devices I use well enough that whatever I imagine can come from them. Techno is machine music. When I'm recording, it's just me and the machines."

The music, however, speaks for itself. No punches are pulled here—the record starts in top gear with "Start Up Drive," a devastating techno bomb centered around a throbbing, repeating bassline and a meaty kick drum that builds to a massive climax in the span of five minutes. "In The Back Room" kicks the tempo up a notch, featuring spaced-out atmospheric synth leads floating atop syncopated percussion. "Just A Little Late" is funkier than the other two, built around a rubbery, insistent synthesizer groove that worms its way deep into your head and doesn't let go.

The aforementioned three tracks alone would comprise a solid techno EP suitable for any number of dancefloors. But the last track on the record—its namesake—shifts gears entirely. "Walk The Distance" is a moody, pulsing slow burner, introspective and emotional. It's a haunting listen that adds remarkable depth and complexity to the record. "Walk The Distance, the track, is a reference to the fact that music is not a career. Any advice you could offer someone on how to have a successful career doesn't really apply to a career in music. By that I mean to say, process is everything, and the results don't really matter."

Sage advice indeed, but judging by Walk The Distance, Mark Verbos has figured out how to produce results that matter.