Reviews

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]From her hideaway on the edge of Europe, the global traveller and experimental artist Sarah Badr – working under the name of her main music project, FRKTL – has created a new electro-acoustic masterpiece.

Excision After Love Collapses is a tense, brooding album. Coming three years after the Prose Edda EP, it stuns with its complexity and dark beauty.

Recorded in Germany, Eygpt and Latvia, the new material plays on the nerves; strumming the axons like guitar strings.

The album opens with “Sidereal II,” a drone that merges with mechanics. The short piece is like an orchestra warming up on the edge of sanity. What follows is challenging, emotionally, just as it is aesthetically striking.

“Fire Upon the Deep” is reminiscent of the drawn out, haunting choirs of Test Department’s most atmospheric work. It creates a chilling ambience that continues in “Gestalt Approach.”

“Eigenspace” is a combination of the naturalism of Pierre Perret’s Gaïa, La Terre and the processed sounds of Test Department’s “Corridor of Cells.” These layers are joined by rhythms only briefly; teasing the

The claustrophobia of the title track is almost overwhelming. Bowed sounds and scraped percussion, scratched discs and reverb create a sense of psychological pressure usually only experienced at dark sites operated by the East European members of NATO on behalf of Washington.

This is the most intense FRKTL work to date. It doesn’t shatter expectations so much as expose them to unexpected touches. The feeling lasts long after the speakers are silent.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Finding the space somewhere between Kelli Ali and Shirley Manson, Anjela Piccard hits the right notes for Black Needle Noise as they cover The Black Crowes’ “She Talks to Angels.”

The LA-based project, led by Piccard’s partner John Fryer, rarely takes on cover songs. This time, however, the prolific Fryer (best known for his studio work with Nine Inch Nails, Depeche Mode, Fad Gadget and Cocteau Twins) has hammered sheets of noise across the framework of classic rock.

The result is a sonic reconstruction of the track, mutated with the DNA of This Mortal Coil. “She Talks to Angels” might be about heroin use to cope with trauma, but the Black Needle Noise treatment is a cocktail that binds to every receptor. Where the original scratched the skin, this version sinks into your flesh and floods you with reverb.

It’s a designer drug, tailored for the runway and the highway.  You can strut and steer under its influence, but remember: sometimes, the after effects never wear off.

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Jean-Marc Lederman (Photo: Erica Hinyot)

In The Seventh Seal, Ingmar Bergman’s masterpiece, a knight facing death looks into the abyss and sees no light. He prays to God but gets no answer. He asks Death to confirm that there is something beyond this world, but the Reaper has no information to share.

Bergman, who grew up the son of a pastor, wanted to believe; but, in the film, his knight has to have his doubts addressed before he can accept the end. If you shout into the void but no one answers, is there anyone there?

Letters to Gods (or Fallen Angels), organised by the Belgian composer and motorcycle rider, Jean-Marc Lederman, is based on a challenge to more than twenty singers: If you wrote to a god (or a fallen angel), what would you say? There is no promise of a faster response than Bergman’s knight received, but the project provides a more profane platform: CDs, accompanied by stories and images on the same theme.

The scale of the project is ambitious: more than twenty collaborators have been drawn in, assigned an instrumental track composed by Lederman, and asked to address the deity of their choice. Although some repetition might have been expected, in order to generate so many tracks, the songs are as diverse as the collaborators.

One of the highlights comes from Tom Shear (Assemblage 23), who shares the philosophical challenge of The Seventh Seal. “Why don’t you answer me?” he asks. Like Bergman’s knight, he receives no reply.

Claus Larsen (Leaether Strip) from Denmark asks to discard his chains. The recipient of his letter learns that forgiveness suits the industrial bear. Is the note to Martin Gore? The liner notes don’t say.

Rodney Orpheus (The Cassandra Complex) provides a semi-spoken piece set in a jazz bar in Heaven. “Hey, Jesus, fill up my glass with some more Holy Spirit!”

The combative debater complains about the absence of weather, up in the infinite sky, but what he really misses is arguing on the internet. Tell us about it.

Other contributions come from Mari Kattman (Mari & The Ghost, Helix), Elena Alice Fossi (Kirlian Camera, SPECTRA*paris), Mark Hockings (Mesh), Emileigh Rohn (Chiasm), Haydn Park-Patterson (The Ninth Wave), Louise Fraser (Muricidae), and a host of other singers from the alternative music scene. There are more perspectives than gods in the Pantheon, and something can be found for every taste.

Artwork comes in the form of a hardcover book (for the limited edition 2 x CD physical release) crafted by Erica Hinyot, featuring her visuals and three novels from Christina Z. (Witchblade Comics), Ceratomia, and Philippe Genion (à;GRUMH…).

No word, yet, if any gods or fallen angels have reacted to these letters, but stay tuned: sometimes they drop hints in their response songs.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Twice a Man are not only one of Sweden’s first electronic acts; they are also one of the few bands that has bridged the gaps between New Wave, progressive rock and experimental music.

Founded as Cosmic Overdose by Dan Söderqvist and Karl Gasleben, the story goes that the band were asked to choose a less hippie-sounding name before opening for New Order. The promoter provided a list of suggested names, and they kept the one they chose for the show.

Their first releases as Twice a Man, Music for Girls (1982) and The Sound of a Goat in a Room (1983), fit neatly into a post-punk aesthetic. Songs like “Russian Tractors” incorporated found sound and synthetic drums, while “Goat III” floated in space like the love child of Gillian Gilbert and Steve Hillage. Twice a Man’s sound was sophisticated and adventurous, which secured their place as one of Sweden’s most influential electronic artists.

Fast forward twenty or so albums, jumping over excursions into music for theater and dancefloors, and we find the band On the Other Side of the Mirror. With Jocke Söderqvist joining the core duo, as he has for the past few releases, Twice a Man have found their optimal formation.

Dan Söderqvist’s vocals on “Breath” are instantly recognisable, but with a Cohen-esque purr as he recites his lines. The opening track is robust and spiked with majestic synths that signal the band’s intentions. It pays to spend time on sound design, and the mix is full of carefully wrought textures.

The craftsmanship continues on “Fireflies.” A diversion into a night garden, the song finds Söderqvist being carried along by waves of rhythm and detuned oscillators.

There are hints of psychedelia in “Rain of Shame,” but we are also in the presence of a force. It is a widescreen, high resolution view of the power of behind every false self. The title could be a reference to the dynamics of social media or a weather forecast for the disordered soul.

The energy mounts even more for “Naked,” which makes use of found sound and a heavy bass line; relaxing only momentarily before the tension returns. This is an album that is fully charged and optimised for 2020.

“Modern World” closes the album with the enquiry, “Are we raindrops in a desert field?” In these times of confinement and chaos, it is a fair question.

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[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]The Swedish artist, Niels Gordon, has released his second album – the first on vinyl. Land is released today on Lamour Records.

It comes only days after the death of Florian Schneider was revealed to the world; which is fitting, because Kraftwerk are one of Gordon’s biggest influences. Last year, Gordon created this cover version of “Europe Endless” for the podcast Blå måndag:

Another of Gordon’s influences is OMD, for whom he opened in 2018.

Cold War Night Life’s photographer, Krichan Wihlborg, took some time to sit with Gordon for an early listening session ahead of the new release, and returned with photos and an enthusiasm for the new record.

Now that he is releasing a new album, I take the opportunity to visit Niels Gordon in his studio, which lies a little outside of Gothenburg in Sweden.

When I arrive, he greets me warmly and invites me to his house in the woods. We go back to his studio. Once inside, it is a pure dream for anyone who likes electronic music. In the midst of all the synths, you also find a bass and a number of pedals.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with his music, Gordon creates music with old analogue synths and more modern technology.

Niels is called Niklas by his friends and has created music almost his entire life. He has played in many different constellations over the years, ranging from punk and country music to electronic music, and much more. For many years, he has created electronic music with several others and constantly nurtures the synth which he bought as a 12 year-old boy.

The music that Niklas makes now is electronic; reminiscent of what Tangerine Dream sounded like in the 80’s and 90’s. For those of us who love the analogue sounds, this is a pure dream to listen to. Sit down with a pair of good headphones or speakers and float away in wonderfully rich sound.

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In the days before they took to singing the obvious in iambic pentameter, the Pet Shop Boys had a good line in danceable poptronica. They knew how to combine soaring pads with bouncing basslines, drawing on Liza and Dusty for influence in the vocal lines.

Those days are gone, but a new generation of artists has absorbed their classic stylings. Julian & Marina have shown the way, but they are not alone.

Meet Francesca e Luigi, a duo from the Left Coast of Sweden. Jessica Brannefors and Martin Permer work a distinctly Italo angle, but with British DNA in their catchy electronic pop.

They have just released their first album, Disco Darkness, in the midst of a pandemic. The second track to emerge was a remix of their very first song, “Watch Me Dance Tonight,” and it shows them shimmering like the light from a disco ball. Brannefors’ vocals are as sweet as a bar of Marabou but as elegant as the first sip of Cristal. You will want to rewind to savour the ARP-infused bassline and uplifting chorus.

The album is not a million Swedish miles from Dubstar’s work, either. “Everyday in Love” finds Brannefors following in the path cut by Sarah Blackwood’s famous vocals. Love is a lonely place, but you will be in good company with Disco Darkness.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

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Alison Lewis (Photo: Simon Helm)

Zanias is back with two EPs. The project of Alison Lewis, who is also known for her work with Linea Aspera, Keluar and the Fleisch recording label, has given us some mind-expanding material, and it is a rich vein to be mined for intelligent and emotional electronics.

The ore collected on Extinction consists of hard bass lines, bubbling square waves, and intense vocals. The raw materials are molten by the energy of the dancefloor and tempered by Lewis’ hardline critique of climate destruction.

The title track drowns in pads in the middle, as if absorbed by the rising waters of a warming world. Lewis’ lyrics are unambiguous:

Who will be the last to die?

Who will see the final light

across the sky?

But the sun will rise again

without us.

Who will be the last to die?

Who will think the final thought

in the universe?

But the sun will rise again,

the ocean will swell and surge,

and the sun will rise again

without us.  

The second track, “Endling,” is infused with acid and styled with distress. A song for the last of the species, it was recorded with Alex Aker and features a heavily processed sample from an Eastern Whipbird, recorded in Australia.

“Carbon” features Greta Thunberg, but you need to lace up your dancing boots to put it all in context. Lewis’ vocals flow through the forest of beats like the scent of a guide to the noses of animals.

“(There Is No) Mothership” closes the EP. It begins with the warped synthetic sounds of fried circuitry, which blend with the organic textures of Zania’s intonations. It is as other-worldly as the reaches of space or the bottom of the sea.

The material from which Harmaline is crafted is more organic. The second EP is inspired by Lewis’ search for introspection and understanding, which included experiencing ego death through an ayahuasca ritual.

The title track, “Harmaline,” leads down the world music path hewn by Dead Can Dance. The jungle is slashed by a sharp bass line, while Alison Lewis cuts her way out of a dying relationship. Made on a laptop while visiting France, the vocals speak to the depths of her internal pain. The lyrics are clear:

To have no self, to be reborn:

cast me in gold, put me in the ground.

To face this truth, to become undone:

break me with stone, put me in the ground. 

Where do you go when you’ve seen it all?

What’s left to learn when you’ve touched the void? 

We are alone, we are the last of us.

“Limerence” is about a crush Lewis had on a friend that she resisted. We can’t help the feelings, sometimes, but we don’t have to act on them or feel regret for not taking opportunities

The roots of “Excision,” a demo from 2019, are a poem posted to a friend’s Facebook wall and Lewis’ need to grow away from her suffocating relationship. A line from the poem, “galaxies bloom apart,” stuck with her and became a way to explain the need for people to follow their own directions.

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[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Euthymia is a feeling of stability and balance. In philosophy, it also refers to a sense of authenticity and integrity.

The title of Pieces of Juno’s latest album is fitting. It is the final installment of the series that included Kalopsia (the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are), Tacenda (things that are best left unsaid) and Metanoia (a fundamental change of mind). Euthymia completes the cycle with a sense of presence in the flow of things.

There are traces of jazz and pop in the mix, but Euthymia is an experimental album. Juno, herself, refers to the style as Northern Noir; and the sounds certainly move like the branches of birch trees in the breeze, waving in patterns that are entrancing and centering.

“Waking Divine” winds with reverb in the way that Harold Budd’s keyboards used to, while strings resonate like wind chimes. Juno’s voice drifts with the lightness of vapour between them. It fits as a companion piece to “I/O,” which has the subtle touch of the lightest kiss on the back of your neck. You feel this material through the teasing of your cilia before it is processed in your mind.

“Needing” starts with a touch of Tom Waits, but evolves quickly into classic Pieces of Juno. “Let things flow, let it go,” she sings, and the shuffling, rhythmic loop of life continues to spin. The philosophical element of Juno’s work provides coherence, but it also leads to beautiful results.

The entreaty to “Wake Me Up” comes on one the most structured of these songs. It’s a simple request, but loaded with epic consequences.

Open your third eye and see; open your ears and feel.

(Photo: Cecilia Riis Kjeldsen)[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]