Wie gross ist die Luft
Starting with a strange repeated sound that seems more mechanical than electronic (chattering robot jaws come to mind), Germany's consistently interesting Rainer Straschill wastes no time in launching into the grand experiment that is Wie gross ist die Luft ("What is the Air?"). After a duet between the high gurgles and a smearing of subsonic rumble, a trombone enters, its familiar honk perking up my ears. It was a real surprise for the electronic sounds to sit side-by-side with this nakedly acoustic tone, and I loved the mix.
The horn seems to be the touchstone of the album, and even as it goes on to be looped and given cavernous reverb, it retains its immediate humanity. "Seym Zschuid" introduces a lunatic voice, which grows to a shocking level of volume and intensity, which is then looped and made into a background texture for more 'bone. These textures - horn, voice, and electronics - form the basis of the album which, even though it was recorded during a number of live performances across different countries, has a remarkable cohesiveness.
I found that the different pieces blend seamlessly into each other, and don't present themselves as songs so much as movements in a sort of stark, ultra-modern symphony, which feels thoroughly composed though it almost surely involves improvisation (perhaps completely so). In comparison to Straschill's 2008 release Weird Specialist, this album eschews beats and thick layers for a deeply dynamic, thoughtfully orchestrated melange that frequently finds moments of pastoral beauty turning on a dime into jarring abstraction, then melting into deep sonority again.
"Asoziale Netzwerke" introduces a clean acoustic guitar courtesy of Idaho's Krispen Hartung, exploring some skillful pointillism along with the occasional genuine jazz chord, which is gradually accompanied by some treated loops and Motoko Honda's exploratory piano. This grows in intensity, is relieved by a drop into a dour low range, then grows again, now adding frenetic voices, an unnameable wind instrument, and pure electronic noise. It then drops again, allowing a falsetto voice to take the center stage, with a deep rumbling of guttural electronic waves underscoring a repeated, wistful single note on the piano. It's nothing less than a fantastic group interaction, giving the impression of being led by a conductor (which I doubt). This may be the high point of the recording for me, though it melds completely with the other, more solo-oriented pieces.
Straschill kindly included a warning about the extreme dynamic range featured here (he notes, "loud passages are in fact sixteen times as loud as the quiet ones"). I tend to listen to music on headphones, and soon found that he wasn't kidding. Delicately soft sections give way to sudden shouts and blasts of brass, though it doesn't strike me as gratuitous. It took some time to find a comfortable volume level, and though I enjoyed being able to hear the very detailed attention given to things like reverb and tone quality, this recording is really made for a classical listening setup, with full-range monitors able to reproduce this ambitious album. It deserves this level of listening. I'd love to hear it broadcast in a concert hall, and in fact, would gladly pay for the privilege. This is a terrific work.
album website (FREE download!)
Rainer Straschill website