Blog Archives

Peter Baumann: Machines of Desire

baumann

A confessional: I don’t really understand the differences between satsumas, tangerines and clementines. I know I like to eat them I just don’t always know which is which.

And all of this awful sub-par observational comedy brings us to Peter Baumann. Who was in Tangerine Dream in 1971 – 77. Do you see? Tangerine Dream. I do know who they are – a very influential proponent of experimental Krautrock, the likes of which goes down very well with me. 33 years after his last solo album, Baumann returns with an 8 track almost fully instrumental album of moody, sparse electronics.

A feeling of menace pervades all the tracks, opener The Blue Dream setting the tone that the rest of the album follows: droning synths, stomping kick drums and portentous rolling toms. Searching in Vain is similarly baleful, although it does have has a John Carpenter feel to it in it’s later moments, and Valley of the Gods features heavily processed vocal samples occasionally breaking through to a surface almost hidden behind industrial percussion. Towards the end a lead synth line creeps in with a middle-eastern tinged rhythm.

Echoes in the Cave is wonderfully minimalist, while Ordinary Wonder conjures up rain and neon signage, a trip around a dilapidated city of a future that never quite was, a future as portrayed in countless cyberpunk novels. It’s more upbeat than all of the other tracks presented here, the lead synth offering hope and wonder.

Crossing the Abyss returns to the downtempo feel of the rest of the album, beginning with the clattering of dark bells for the first minute before allowing a marching beat and sequenced bass to take over, complimented perfectly with some spooky lead lines and atmospherics.

Dancing in the Dark pushes forth military march drum rolls played on a rickety drum machine with a pulsing, doomy bass and swelling synths, and Dust to Dust rounds things off, the highlight of the album for me. It starts with more metallic percussion that sounds like the ticking of an ominous clock, with Gregorian chants washing over the top. It’s almost two minutes into the track before the synth pad comes in, followed soon after by an arpeggio that seems to be leading you towards whatever horror the ticking clock is counting down. The song becomes much more urgent in the second half, the lead synth line taking on a guitar like tone until you’re left alone with that creepy metallic ticking and the chants again. Play it with headphones on in the dark. I dare you.

Get the album from Bureau B or your local reputable record store.

petecollins

Steeple Remove: Position Normal

Steeple Remove - Position Normal album cover

Yes, yes, I know. This album came out at the end of 2015. I’m at least 6 months late. ‘Never knowingly on the pop pulse’ isn’t the motto of this website for no good reason. But come on, have a look at my Google Drive – see that folder there? That’s got some reviews of albums that have come out recently that I’ll be posting soon. Really.

Oi! What are you doing? Don’t look at that other folder! Stop it! Give me the mouse back! Forget you ever saw what you just saw. Please.

Ahem…anyway we’re here to talk about French band Steeple Remove’s first album for 6 years, Position Normal, and not what’s lying about in my cloud storage. I don’t know much about the city of Rouen, other than it featured in the game Call of Duty 3. Thankfully Steeple Remove don’t seem to take their influence from that, so there’s no songs about annoying teenagers continually headshotting you and then pretending to teabag your prone body.

Or are there…?

No. There are not. (I don’t think so anyway).

What is does have are songs which successfully meld synth-led motorik and post-punk influences. Other blogs may have honed in on Bauhaus or a trippier Echo and the Bunnymen sounds coming through, but – in a move which is sure to see me fired from the Both Bars On team – I think Position Normal has more than a little something of Simple Mind’s classic 1980 album Empires & Dance about it.

Opener Mirrors is all sharp edged guitar, atmospheric synths and haunting vocal, plus what sounds like a screaming ghost around the halfway mark. (Wooooooh! That’s the sound of a ghost. In French). It gets both effects and more musically heavy for the last couple of minutes before segueing very nicely into the urgent synth and bass repetitiveness of Silver Banana. Plus it has lyrics we can all relate to:A silver banana in my hand / It’s good enough for you it’s good enough for me”.

We’ve all had that kind of weekend.

My favourite songs are always ones that feature a prominent, driving bass line and Steeple Remove do not disappoint in that regard – see Imaginary Girl, Sunshine, Calling Up and album highlight Activation, which ushers you in with an arpeggiated 8-bit pulse and gives you a one word sing-along chorus to boot.

Throw in a great Psychic TV cover (Unclean) and the eerie Western (as in Cowboy film) sounding Invisible Lights and you’ve got a cracking album that may not be the most original thing you’ve heard, but is certainly an enjoyable and rewarding long player.

Home Run finishes things off in a rousing manner; an optimistic sounding instrumental motorik and synth journey for the most part until it’s allowed to gently dissolve about four minutes through before reprising the main theme in bare-bones fashion.

Get it now from Bandcamp or your local reputable purveyor of recorded sound.

PS We’ve reviewed Steeple Remove before – you can have a look here. And then have a look here.

petecollins

Go March: Go March

gomarch

Look, I don’t want to start out this review in an aggressive tone, but you and me have got to have words. I see you there, looking all smug, banging on about how there are no famous Belgians. Well, smug face, there are loads. LOADS. And hopefully Go March, hailing from the vibrant city of Antwerp, will also be joining that esteemed list of famous Belgians very soon if the quality of their debut album is anything to go by.

Opener ‘The Ship of Bambi’ is a slow burning kick off. Personally, I don’t think I’d want to be on a ship that was being navigated by Bambi. I wouldn’t hold out any great hope of getting to my intended destination. But I defy you to not be smiling by the time the synth organ breaks in around the 3 minute mark.

‘Chase’ takes the tempo up, spiky guitar rhythms and bubbling synths justifying the Krautrock plaudits that Go March have been accumulating, and recent single ‘Rise’ pulls you in from the get go with a hypnotic arpeggio and doesn’t let you go. ‘Like a Record’ follows that, and is a fabulous slab of Motorik which unexpectedly dissolves into a post-rock guitar ending.

There’s no let up in the second half of the album, with ‘Slow Horse’ almost serving as an interlude before you get hit with the 1-2-3 sucker punch of ‘Earthbound’, which steadily builds to a beautifully synth/guitar duel climax; ‘Lighthouse’ (with hints of Modular Synths meets New Wave to it); and finally ‘The White Lodge’ provides a suitably brooding ending to a beast of a record, evoking the feeling of dark clouds and rain over the river Schelde if you’re into that kind of thing (and I am).

If there was one small criticism it would be that a gradual building-style formula is adhered to on pretty much every track on the album. Repetitive? Yes, a little. But is that a bad thing, especially with songs as strong as this? Never. There’s plenty here for Motorik, Krautrock and synth fans. And anyone else interested in Famous Belgians for that matter.

Pick up Go March from the band’s website (or your other favourite retailer, most probably)