Drgn King “Solo Harp” (exclusive)

24 Mar 2014 — Ashley Canino

I'm a not-so-secret mega fan of Norwegian Arms, so when I heard that frontman Brendan Mulvihill was involved in Drgn King, I had high hopes for their material. My introduction to their music, "Solo Harp," didn't disappoint. The song, just under four minutes, is a testament to the power of well-mixed fuzz. The mood setting track misses no opportunity for layering textural sounds, even in the verses and prechorus where the enrapturing melody swells around the listener.

"Solo Harp" will be feature on Drgn Kind's sophomore LP this summer--a follow up to their debut full-length Paragraph Nights, released on Bar None Records.

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Follow Up: Natasha Kmeto on Permeation

24 Mar 2014 — Evelyn Malinowski

A few weeks ago I met up with Natasha Kmeto in Seattle to chat with her about her submission to No Fear of Pop. Her piece, revolutionary, eloquent, and diplomatic all at once, was a response to our critical coverage of 2013's Decibel Festival and their lackadaisical shortage of female artsits in their line-up. Kmeto was one of the featured female artists of last year's festival, and thus her reaching out to discuss the touchy topic about gender dispropotion or "under-representation" in electronic music struck a strong chord across many realms that have experienced and continue to experience chauvinism. What she and I landed on after an engaging conversation was that permeation, or being encouraged or educated to permeate rather than belong, in musical style, gender, politics, and whatever which way, seems a most sincerely innovative way to contribute to the ongoing pursuit of equal rights. Here's a recap of what we had to say.

Photo by Patti Miller.

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Natasha Kmeto is a truly unique individual who, by genuinely implementing that individuality in her music, is benefitting the forward movement of electronic music's aesthetic as well as politic. Biographically, Kmeto is an ethnic permeation. When I inquired about her heritage, she smirked and said she's "Hungarian, German, Greek, and Phillipino," originally from Sacramento, raised in a feminist setting, with a grandmother from Berlin. Coming from a multicultural background, it's no big question that Natasha branched out to find space that supports experimentation for better artistry:

I went to school in LA and the way I was plugged into the scene in LA was very industry-heavy and the school I was at was into training back-up singers or back-up dancers for other artists and doing the pop machine scene where you can be disillusioned about the state of art ... It's like divorcing yourself from consciousness … where you're constantly bombarded by images of success. I wanted a change of pace and wanted a place where I could go and explore art as opposed to the standard music scene and I visited Portland. It's a very supportive art scene and proved to be more open for me.

In effort of finding a community that promotes deviation from models, these set "images of success," Natasha relocated up to Portland, Oregon, where she felt she could cheaply rent a studio space and comfortably "make weird shit" without any fear of ostracization or loss of good conscious. Her statement about divorcing oneself from consciousness speaks to the authenticity of her world of music. For her, it seems, music shouldn't only be good and brooding, like the climate of the Pacific Northwest and that which is found all over her album Crisis: music should also be aligned with experience, with consciousness and open perspective. This is best achieved after one is given space to find his or her own space. Alas, as a female artist, it's sometimes too easy to have plenty of explorative space and yet too difficult to be treated equally when it comes to booking. It is challenging, as we all know, to not be marginalized by the label "female."

You could be thrown into a roll ... it's either you're a woman or you're a human. I'm not trying to come from the perspective of manhating, because I'm not. I'm not trying to marginalize men ... I'm idealistic and I understand it's being idealistic to say that we shouldn't assign gender roles. Part of me would like to see that done away with but at the same time I want to represent other strong female producers. There are many who aren't tauted as highly as male producers, so I think the way out of that is to familiarize the public with the fact that women do other things besides get married and make babies, and I think that the vast majority of people still imagine it that way because they're not shown examples in their day-to-day lives. They're socialized that women are teachers, nurses, or moms, and they can be all those things and there's nothing wrong with it all. But looking at younger generations, I can see that they are already less rigid. So we'll see. I think electronic music is a great avenue for women because we can do it ourselves and it tends to be a more alternative scene. I feel like most men I meet in the scene are usually cool and not chauvinistic.

I agree, but I still think there's this intrinsic, unclaimed chauvinistic trend that dominates electronic music, making it a boy's party, and that was the feeling I came away with after Decibel. I had a good time, and felt that I was constantly surrounded by crowds so in love with the music; those crowds just happened to mostly be bros dancing to bros. And I felt that that's ok but someone needs to be aware of it, and if they don't want that type of festival, then maybe they should make a better effort of equivocal booking. But are there enough acts? Is having such discussion even helpful, or is it a detriment?

I think that there's a lot of women out there right now just crushing shit and it's different from what men do. I'm not saying that women's music is different or it should be different, but women do have a different approach because they kill it in a way that I relate to on a soul level. More women just need to go out to shows and experience that and look for that. And I think they do. I come from a completely different perspective too, coming from the queer community. In Portland, there's a disconnect between the queer community and underground electronic music ... they're not like "oh my god Mike Q!" and instead going out to dance to some top 40 stuff ... If they could go out and relate to it on a soul level then that would help too. That's what I'm trying to do. Maybe they come to a show because they really like singing or they really like R-n-B but then they hear some techno in the works or some drum-n-bass and then they'll be like 'I wanna explore that.' One of my favorite DJs in Portland, DJ Bianca, plays mainly top 40 to keep people happy but she'll also mix in Grimes, or mix in some Disclosure or start mixing in stuff like Jessie Ware, stuff that's a little left and center to the American top 40 but easier for trying to get people hip to that ... subtle moves like that is what is going to moves things forward. 

One of my favorite things about Natasha's essay is how she validates permeation or equivocality overall. It's not just the crossing over of boundaries that we want, but rather the melting down of boundaries and letting all the contents pervade each other. Some individuals may choose to keep their boundary-defining label because they think it's empowering and relevant; still, rearranging things so that less power goes to out-of-date constructs also leaves room for those who wish to be identified in this way, or however they want, to be identified as such. It's really all about awareness, finding your own space to think about and arrange or fuse things, and making a choice.

Some of my favorite music is music that fuses things ... and I'm going to try and bring those elements into my music. Putting a fusion in front of people can be an uphill battle ... they won't know how to categorize this. I could've easily sang back up in Los Angeles or moved to Portland to make dubstep ... but there's still a lot of headscratching going on as to what kind of bills to put me on. You have to fight the big fight, though, in my opinion, to be singular, to be your own voice in order to voice to a lot of things, or to permeate and break down boundaries so that everyone can imagine a reality where a woman is on stage with electronics and executing it well, or someone is combining R-n-B and house. It's all about fusing, and breaking people's minds open. The human brain is programmed to categorize but for the people and artists I relate to the most, those categories are smaller. They're not big, broad categories of 'THIS IS WHAT IS;' it's about being able to step outside of yourself and seeing 'WHAT ISN'T?' ... it's about freedom of consciousness that I feel like a lot of people don't own. Some people can't imagine eating apples and cheese, they'll be like 'Ugh that's just backwards, I don't know what you're talking about,' and then there are some people who are like 'You know, I want to try that,' and those are the people who change things.

The people who don't try eating apples and cheese likely remember that foreign combination, and eventually the thought makes its way through the mind like a worm until they may decide when given the opportunity again to try it. And then they will have permeated with, or fused what someone else knows and what they know.

Let's all be permeable and permeable-minded. This is challenging with the paradoxes given by electronica, that is, its at times genre-specific, hard rhythm and metalic (and so less fluid-like) personality yet multicultural, equal-rights-for-those-who-wish-to-dance tradition. It's been brought to my attention that my favorite music tends to be the stuff that permeates even these, tracks that possess some kind of dreamy reverberation, atmospheric, slippery melody behind, beside, or maybe in front of delicious, crunchy, and solid beats. Let's apply these themes to our personal music tastes and learn more about how we can expand, give ourselves more room to fill and explore, and ask ourselves why we should in the first place. Let's be everything but exclusive, and take what we like but not exclusively.

Karmelloz “Below Freezing (ft. C Plus Plus)” (exclusive)

24 Mar 2014 — Henning Lahmann

Likening his music to "a slowly burgeoning bacterial culture feasting silently on nutrients under warm illumination", UK-based critic Adam Harper found rather appropriate words last year to describe the otherwise elusive sonic work by Eugene, Oregon beatsmith Karmelloz. After releases on Purr Tapes and Sewage, the adventurous producer returns with a new cassette on fabled Vancouver imprint 1080p. Source Localization is indeed sneakily yet irresistibly growing on your ears, relentlessly appropriating everything from slow-burning techno patterns to footwork-indebted frenzy and yes, styles others would describe by employing a set of vocabulary that comprises the words 'vapor' and 'wave' – though everything here is considerably more mud-drenched than your average glaring piece of commodified tech utopia bastardisation. Very contemporary, very 'post', and extremely aware of all things outré even among the cyber underground adepts (yes, I bet he even vapes), this is a release that you might have forgotten about in 2015, but it couldn't possibly be more 'now' right now, so inhale deeply before they take it all away from you again. Here's a breath of finest vaporised liquid solution exclusively for you, "Below Freezing" featuring C Plus Plus. If you live today (quod non), cop that:

Source Localization is out tomorrow, March 25. Get it here.

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Stream: The NFOP Show #21 on BCR

23 Mar 2014 — Henning Lahmann

Listen to the latest edition of our weekly show on Berlin Community Radio, which airs every Friday at 4pm CET. An archive of all our previous shows can be found here.

Tracklist:

(1) Perfect Pussy - Interference Fits
(2) Pure X - Heaven
(3) LE1F - Hey
(4) Evian Christ - Waterfall
(5) FAY - C.A.Y.A
(6) Kloke - Deep City
(7) Millie & Andrea - Stay Ugly
(8) TRUST - Rescue, Mister (Avalon Emerson Cybernetic Edit)
(9) Voices From The Lake - Velo di Maya
(10) Holly Herndon - Chorus (Happa Mix)
(11) Ben Frost - Venter

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Stream: Hypnotized “Telesto EP” (exclusive)

21 Mar 2014 — Parker Bruce

Love Thy Neighbour (straight out of Brighton) are putting out Hypnotized's (aka Robbie Wood, Robin White, Paul Whelan) first EP, Telesto, on March 24. Though it is very easy to bill them as "psychedelic," Telesto speaks to so much more than that. It is a rather genius move to start off the EP with a track called "Thawed" as it implies a sort of rebirth or change of season. And the track lives up to its title with the layers of voices melting off and everything humming with a studied freneticism. Though most of the songs here are covered in sonic vagueries, everything is melliflous. "Ghost Walk" is downcast, convulsing and flickering in slow motion, "Vanity of Names" has carefully edited "whooshes" like wind tunnel gusts from storms running through it while "Fun Wings" is like an unmoored R&B/hip-hop track with almost light, flicking cymbals that create a tingling, teetering uncertainty. It is a bulbous EP full of morphing whorls that shows Hypnotized know what they are doing.

Pre-order Telesto here.

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Interview: Nils Frahm

21 Mar 2014 — Lukas Dubro

While watching Nils Frahm perform, it’s clear that the musician from Berlin devotes all of himself to his work.  Crouched over his keys, his body moves to the rhythm of his music with his lips pursed in concentration. One moment he is sitting on front of his piano, the next, he’s turning buttons on his effects units or playing a line on his synthesizer. Most of time, a lot is happening at once. The sweat always runs.

Frahm works with the same intensity beyond the stage. Before shows he puts up his own lights and soundchecks for as long as four hours. His recordings are a testament to the investment of time in both composition and production. Still, when he does have free time, he works to maintain a studio where he knows every single knob and screw.  It is the same studio he’s done most of the work on his ten albums since 2005.  Equally impressive is the list of his collaborations; over the last few years he’s worked with Ólafur Arnalds, Anne Müller and Peter Broderick.

His commitment paid off. Frahm is one of the most celebrated German musicians of our time. We visited the artist at home a week after his show at Radialsystem in Berlin. As you might expect, Frahm gave 100 percent. Despite his demanding schedule, he gave us plenty of time to ask all of our questions. Before the interview he made some espresso; afterwards, bread and cheese. In between, it felt like visiting an old friend. Nonetheless, the real highlight of the day was viewing his famous home studio.

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This is it, the spaceship. Makes me a bit uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable! Why?

Depends on who is coming, of course, but most people feel overwhelmed [by the studio]. They don't understand what I’m doing here. But I like it when someone commits to something and becomes an expert-- no matter if it's kayaks, canoes or stamps.

Do you know a lot of people like this?

Yes. Matthias, for example, is helping me take care of the studio. He’s a total nerd. He knows everything between 1920 and 1950. He can explain to you exactly what instruments there were, how they worked and who used them. We both think that this time was the golden era of sound recording. People used less tracks, but every single one had better quality. The same goes with every part. We are experimenting a lot with stuff from that time. We unscrew them, exchange parts and maintain them. The studio is our Klanglabor (sound laboratory). 

When did you start collecting instruments?

When I was 12. My first piece was a Fender Rhodes piano, a friend of mine showed it to me. Next was a Moog and then a Juno. That was the beginning, and I never wanted to use anything else again.

Where did you find all these instruments?

Sometimes I read the back of my favorite vinyl records. They’ll have studio photos...then I connect to internet, type in the name and see what comes up. And what I’ll find is a small shop somewhere in Tennessee whose owner put up a photo online. I’ll call him up and talk to him until he realizes that I’m like him. We’ll become friends and he’ll tell me that he knows somebody who might help me.

And what draws you to gear specifically?

I always liked artists that worked hard every day. And I always saw myself as a craftsman. I can't write a song every day, I’m not creative enough. Still, I want to have something to do. So when I’m not feeling inspired, I’ll work on my studio. It’s like meditation. It keeps my life in motion.

Are you ever afraid you’ll neglect the music?

There are different phases-- times when I’ll work meticulously on my studio and times that I have to tell myself to stop. When I’m recording I recognize that it’s valuable to put so much time into my gear, because I can put up four microphones, press the record button and have it sound finished. Jazz musicians from the ‘40s and ‘50s did the same thing. They were able to record their albums within two days because everything was ready for it.

So it’s about creating the right setting?

Exactly! I try to create an environment where things can happen. It's the greatest part of my work and it's what makes me proud at the end of the day. Chord progressions don’t matter as much for me. What’s more important is the sound and how it comes across, how the details are treated. Those are the things that matter.

Noted.  Then how do you feel about people making music on their laptops?

It’s a tendency that I don't like. I think things shouldn't be too easy. The industry is always looking for new ways to make things easier. But that’s very dangerous, because people will be coddled and become lazy. They’ll get used to the fact that you could do an expensive sounding album for 2,000 Euro. I know the people that are running studios, buying expensive instruments, and they really know their stuff. They should be in charge. That would be good for music.

And what about the people who get on stage with nothing but their laptop?

This trend concerns me. Concerts are the last pillar of the music industry. It will fall if these people keep bringing only their laptops on stage. Put yourself in the place of the audience: They travel far, wait in a long queue, and pay a lot of money to only listen to a backing track. This will eventually keep them from coming back. In the end, I’m profiting off people like that. I am the old fossil that troubled himself to tune real instruments and play everything in real time without loops or playbacks.

Then are you always travelling with your instruments?

Not really, but my effects units, my Rhodes and some small things I always take along. The rest of my equipment I rent on location. Before I play the first note I’ve already invested 2,000 Euro. And of course I could ask myself, Do I want to keep the money for myself and only use a laptop? But that would be a bad business idea. The consequence would be that the price would lower. But thanks to my approach, they are rising. And so, I invest money to install good light, get a hazer and pay a light and sound engineer. Ultimately, I am only doing what I would want from a concert.

Why is Spaces a live album?

I realized after trying to record them that many of my songs don't work at a studio. They were missing the energy of a live show.  I wanted this live moment, the madness when the sweat runs and I am doing so many things at once. A lot the album was written on stage during soundchecks, when I found a particular sound. I just couldn't capture that at the studio. Some other tracks I wanted to compare to the original version, to see how they had changed over the years. So I told myself that the extra expenses didn’t matter, I am going to record some live shows.

You recorded 30 shows. What was your method for selecting the songs?

It was important that the room sounded good. Every song has its environment. Some work best at a church; others in a small room. The biggest challenge was to put them all together, to create a flow with the effect that that the listener won’t know when something stops and another begins. Just like my shows, I wanted the audience to be carried away.

There’s a funny moment on the opening track, "An Aborted Beginning". The music abruptly stops after 90 seconds, then laughter and baffled handclaps. What happened?

That song is a tool. I put it there so people set the right volume on their hi-fi station. Originally I wanted to put "Says" as the first track, but because it starts so quiet and gets so loud at the end, I was afraid that the song could be ruined. That’s why I decided to put the short drum machine jam at the beginning. Speaking about the clapping at the end, don’t believe the album.

And here I thought that you’d hit a wrong button…

That’s exactly what I wanted. I like that it’s awkward. You think, Woah, something went terribly wrong here. I wanted to make the listener feel unsure, Is this really Nils Frahm? I like to toy with expectations. This is my working method.

Piano is the main element on Spaces. Why not a keyboard?

The piano is the only instrument where I can create a feeling in real time without needing to edit it afterward. I couldn't do this with a keyboard. I’ve been doing electronic music with the computer for a long time. I’ll spend hours in front of the screen, glass of red wine in hand, programming depth into a hi-hat. A couple of years ago I sat again in front of my piano and realized how beautiful it was. Besides, I thought, I’ve put so much work into the instrument that it wouldn’t make sense to ignore it. Through the piano I found a sound that sounds like me. I have always been focused on this.

You do a lot of collaborations. What do you like about them?

You always learn something. When you’re with someone at the studio it’s like you see them naked. You learn a lot about their working method, their manner, their attitude. You get to see how they do things and get the chance to analyze your own process. I’ve always learned this way. Instead of doing professional training, I made music with other people at the rehearsal room. It’s extremely effective.

From whom did you learn the most?

Certainly Peter Broderick and Anne Müller. I collaborated the most with them. I produced whole albums for Peter and he demanded a lot from me. Peter taught me about playing live, that it’s important to be courageous and improvise on stage instead of arranging everything before...The willingness to take risks was always a part of me, but Peter helped me access it. He’s a man with a lot of self-confidence, an assured person, and that’s inspiring. You can learn a lot from him.

I saw your father at your show at Radialsystem. Does he always come to your shows?

He doesn't always manage to come, but when I am playing in Hamburg he comes every single time.

What does that mean to you?

My father has been very important to me. To begin, he provided me with good music so that I always stood out in class. At home we were spinning the gods of modern jazz, Nordic jazz and classic, as well Massive Attack or Portishead. He supported me when I decided to become a musician. He is a freelance photographer. We wouldn't have anything to talk about if I had become a lawyer or a brain surgeon. Becoming an artist was in the family.

Weren't you afraid to follow your father?

No, I always knew that I could live up to his expectations. I didn’t become a photographer, because it's a bad idea to compete with your own father. He was always was a big motivation, because he set the bar so high for me. That’s why I’ve always been so critical with my own work. I always knew when I showed him my recordings that he wanted me to push myself even further. I remember the day that he first told me he was proud of me. It was in my early 20’s when I showed him a piano recording. I saw it in his face-- the perfectionist approved. I knew that I had done something good. This moment was so important because it’s when he started to become a fan.

So your father is a perfectionist too?

My father does large format photography. He knows everything about chemicals, technique, print, scan and bookbinding. But, like me, he didn’t study or do any professional training. He just did it himself, because he was on fire. He’s always worked hard to achieve his goals...I would have never had the self-confidence to become an artist without such a great example, without seeing that it is possible firsthand.

Spaces was released last year on Erased Tapes. Nils Frahm is currently touring the US and Canada. Check out the dates over here.

Sebastian Palomar “Laughing at Columbus”

21 Mar 2014 — Richard Greenan

Italian synth artist Sebastian Palomar returns after last year's wonderfully perplexing The Physical and Emotional Benefits of Swimming – an aquatherapy doctrine with musical accompaniment, refracting Debussy and Hype Williams through a fishbowl of self-help hokum. "Laughing at Columbus" is the first glimpse of Seb's new EP, Invent Your Universe, which plays out like a machine-washed love letter to Carl Sagan – all saturated keys, hypnotically distorted new age samples and gently bubbling drum machines. Invent Your Universe is out very soon on Dramatic Records.

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Watch: Route 8 “I Can’t”

21 Mar 2014 — Evelyn Malinowski

Lobster Theremin is an endearing start-up label based in the UK whose brief discography will likely demand more than a small amount of your time. With work like Steve Murphy's Relax EP and Route 8's particularly well-researched and grooved-out Dry Thoughts EP, you may end up either keeping their Bandcamp among your tabs for several March and April days to come, or spending a few pounds, converted respectively. With Route 8's first track "Pacific Paradise," we enter a consoling melodic zone with a rather catchy rhythm which may or may not match what we think of when we imagine Pacific coastal beaches. For me, it seems to compliment the distant memory of long, bright, warm days still so unreachable here in the biting, agitated mountain weather.

"I Can't" starts with whistling confusion before another ensaring beat provides the track's drive. Again, it's like the song of the season lamenting exhaustedly that it can't start up. Something about the airyness between the beat and the melodic workings reminds me of Swayzak's "Speedboat," some kind of nice feeling of calm realization that there's room to grow, and that things aren't always so chaotic; life can feel chill even during a long period of uncertainty. Route 8's video reflects both this interpretation as well as some visual representation of the funny whisp sounds that persist throughout the track. It's nice to see animation paired with good deep house like this, since the genre always seemed so cartoonish in the way that it's both dark and humorous.

Order the Dry Thoughts EP over here.

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