New Music: Paul Duncan/Slaraffenland, Thilges

Paul Duncan – Above the Trees / Hometapes

Paul Duncan - Red Eagle (Hometapes 2007)

Slaraffenland – Private Cinema / Hometapes

Slaraffenland - Polaroids (Hometapes 2007)

I am a label guy. There are artist guys who only love music by their preferred artist or genre guys who only love music in that particular genre or year/era guya who only love music from that specific year/era. I prefer labels. It’s basically like saying I do not really care if I get a red Skittle or a green Skittle or one of the special once-in-a-lifetime blue Skittles, I just dig what Skittles is doing so toss me whatever happens to be the next color out of the bag and I’m most likely going to be down. So as you have surely noticed, my choice reviews, while not specifically dependent on this factor, typically do sway to whatever my preferred labels are releasing. A personal connection with a label can be a wonderful thing; it makes it easy to continually push your tastes into new eclectic directions while having a guide to lead the way. One imprint that has been quickly pawing its way up my personal-taste-totem-pole is Boulder, Colorado’s (by way of Arkansas) Hometapes. They very much seem to be rounding up artists not with one particular sound but with a discernable vibe, one that fumes a caring patience, a love of craft and a goal of soothing your nerves. And as their mission statement details, their ideals are very scrapbook-esque; random mementos that make sense when catalogued together, labors of love ached and obsessed over by their creators that may not appeal to everyone, but to the caring few will mean millions. You have to respect that. They are also setting up spaces for artists to create at will devoid of any sort of guideline or deadlins at Placetapes as well as HAUS, an online store for supporting your local starving artist.

Two of their latest releases fell into my eager hands in the last couple of weeks, Paul Duncan’s Above the Trees and Slaraffenland’s Private Cinema. Both continue on the Hometapes ethos with very different approaches, so I thought it appropriate to group them together to further my point.

Like I believe a good number of people were as well, I was introduced and concurrently became invigorated with Paul Duncan by way of his 2005 album Be Careful What You Call Home. A cerebral and subdued collection of lush electronically-tinged bedroom pop songs, Be Careful became a go-to album for those evenings alone where I wasn’t specifically down-and-out, but a little overtaxed and in need of a soothing voice to share the insistent bearing of the world. So pulling Above the Trees from it’s yellow envelope was a deep soul sigh; I could already feel the pressure being lifted. But I was slightly taken aback on my first spin of Duncan’s third full-length, all the homemade electronic twinges were gone and in their places lush arrangements of twangy folk. My disappointment didn’t last too long though; Duncan’s aching tenor, now forefront in the mix rather than weaving through the immense instrumental textures, is as relatable as ever and the music, while more straightforward, is still garnished with an immense amount of subtle peculiarities. This in essence is the Will Oldham album I have been waiting for. The album ebbs and flows with deep breaths of slide guitar and string flourishes, Texas twang at heart but created with Chicago’s obsession of texture. Which makes sense since it was recorded at Chicago’s Soma EMS with immensely talented friends including members of Tortoise, Grizzly Bear, Bear in Heaven, The Vandermark 5 and Cursive among others. Yes Duncan has been pulled from his bedroom and in turn some of the intimate idiosyncrasies have been lost along the way, but Above the Trees is no less personal and exponentially more confident. It drifts caringly with complex pastoral tones and Duncan’s songwriting is as strong as ever as he gets to express himself with a much larger musical palette. This was the natural progression for Duncan as an artist, and it is very exciting to hear a musician not only coming into his own but pushing himself to completely new peaks of creativity.

And now we move from an artist who is reaching his potential to musicians bubbling to the brim with it. Scandinavian quintet Slaraffenland (Sluh-raf-in-luhnd) actually sound more Canadian than their frosty neighbors with a sound akin to the everyone-shout-along music of Broken Social Scene but with a penchant for jazzy experiments within their indie-rock foundation. Their band name by no coincidence translates to “the land of milk and honey,” and while the music streaming from these 20-something students based in Copenhagen may be certainly sweet on the ears, they also like to incorporate a hearty amount of staticy recording techniques and the occasionally atonal outburst. Their first release stateside, Private Cinema is actually their third album as a group and the first to utilize vocals, which were tastefully recorded from afar garnishing an Animal Collective like parallel. The music never seems to sit still, for example “Polaroids” where they get into a washy, acoustic guitar/bass/drum groove but allow it to grow increasingly more chaotic as woodwinds begin to intertwine themselves below the mix and everything climaxes triumphantly followed by a quickly decaying tape hiss conclusion. It is very much music that is as influenced by a Brötzmann as it is a Sufjan, which you have to admit piques your interest quite a bit. Already being championed in their home base country of Denmark, Slaraffenland’s U.S. audience is quickly growing as well with acclaimed sets at CMJ (06) and SXSW, which I can only imagine is a raucous fun-loving stage show. Private Cinema is a wonderfully intriguing debut on Hometapes, and I am looking forward to see which direction they push their sound in next, because as this album reveals, the pathways are numerous.

So if this is your first introduction to Hometapes I would also suggest you checking out some other of their recent releases like Feathers’ Synchromy, an eclectic post-rock album, and Canonic, where acclaimed producer Scott Solter remixes Pattern is Movement in the old-school Abbey Road/King Tubby method, with analogue tape and razors. Both are excellent and very much worth your time. And once you are caught up, feel free to grab a seat beside mine so we can eagerly await their next release together.






Thilges - Hig (Staubgold 2007)

Thilges – La Double Absence / Staubgold

Vienna, Austria has long been a hotbed for musical innovations. I mean damn, if you look back to the 18th and 19th century the number of classical composers based in or regularly making appearances in the city is a checklist of now legendary icons in the field including Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, Haydn, Schubert, Wagner and on and on. These days, the classical culture is still rampant with the Burgtheater being its widely renowned home base, but the most exciting music being made in the city is actually by its potent avant-garde underground. In the last twenty years, the experimental electronica scene in particular has birthed many acclaimed innovators, though the more widely recognized Berlin underground typically overshadows it. For an example of an innovative Austrian group, look no farther than Thilges, also known as Thilges 3, who focus on adding an organic nature to the heavily synthetic electronic scene. Together since the mid-90s, the core of electronic manipulator Nik Hummer and multi-instrumentalist Gammon (as well as regular collaborator Armin Steiner) have set out to infuse the same unpredictable essence of acoustic instrumentation to the stringent world of programming. To achieve this they rely solely on analog modular synthesizers, heavily improvised compositions, a mixture of acoustic instrumentation and electronics and performing in settings where the music unpredictably interacts with its surroundings, which result in recordings that are practically impossible to recreate. For example, they typically perform accompanied by performance art, in acoustical innovative settings or with a PA system specifically designed to achieve a different sound depending on your relation to it (usually a quadraphonic PA system). For their second release on the experimental German label Staubgold, Thilges were commissioned to combine Western experimental music with Oriental art and create a geographic-less sound that pulls influence from many cultures but is grounded in none.

Combining Austrian, American, Persian, Arabic and Afghan cultures with the grace and refinement of Oriental art, Thilges create a patient, meditative sound through exotic acoustic instrumentation and an electronic foundation for La Double Absence. Along for the cause is Persian vocalist Zohre Jooya, renowned oud player Asim Al-Chalabi, American violist Eyvind Kang and Austrian musicians Franz Hautzinger on trumpet and Peter Rosmanith on percussion. The first layer of this nearly indefinable album is the minimal electronic-based rhythm section. On a Ghostly-like tip of finely chopped clicks and blips, the loose foundation sometimes augmented with hand percussion makes for a surprisingly comfortable connection with the acoustic instrumentation swirling above. Like all Thilges productions, these synthetic sounds are made solely with analog modular synthesizers like the monophonic trautonium, an electronic instrument invented in the 1920s most notably utilized in the soundtrack for Hitchcock’s The Birds. The only other instrument heard on every song of La Double Absence is Gammon’s acoustic guitar, which is played in traditional Arabic scales known as magams. This definitely spins the music in a Middle Eastern direction which is only emphasized by the resonate, droning tone of the oud. In songs like the opener “Izdiucz,” Arabic for “a fusion of two different materials,” Hummer seems to try and match the low tone of the oud with his synths making for an hypnotizing blend of acoustic and electronic music with boundaries very much blurred. When Hautzinger adds his subdued trumpet to the mix, a brand new welcoming sound adds a familiarity to the exotic music; a definite European or jazz swash to the Middle Eastern foundation. And Jooya’s sultry Persian and Afghan based vocals heard on about half the songs continue to bend and blend the cultural boundaries, though I’m slightly partial to the instrumental numbers.

The most appealing aspect of La Double Absence is its melancholic vibe. Yes you are mixing a hell of a lot of different sounds, but Thilges keep it accessible by tastefully layering in a minimal manner. The melodies though based in foreign scales are recognizably emotional no matter your geographic home making it truly international music. It also has a very timeless appeal since the acoustic instrumentation harks back to past cultures while the electronic rhythms remind you that this could only be made today. It is a very meditative record in the same sense of some of the earthy jazz in the early 70s, based in complex melodies that wrap themselves around your soul and transport the listener into a world only alive in your mind. La Double Absence is experimental but sophisticated, exotic but recognizable and chilling but infinitely warm.