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STRIKE 159CD
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In the beginning there is noise. Not an encompassing and continuous noise, but something choppy and rhythmic. It sounds as if a noise-generating device is constantly being switched on and off in regular time. It's a machine-like pulse that stoically keeps its own time, even if none of the instruments, introduced one by one, follow its rhythm. Nor does the bassline, consisting of four notes played with long pauses, nor the hypnotic tom sequence on the drums. The noise has a life of its own. Its staccatos swell into metallic harmonies that wander around the room without ever deviating from their tempo. The voice of Cambodian singer Prak Chum floats over it all. Its agility and countless, minute modulations make it seem both strange and intimate; grounded and ethereal at the same time. This is "Batagur Baska," the first piece from the album of the same name by Guido Möbius. Nothing on this album actually goes together. One hears bouncy patterns played on analog synthesizers, and then a recorder. Rumbling, grinding industrial percussion develops through vocals played backward into something like acid krautrock. "Call The Police Now," with its shakers and soft vocal lines, has a bossa character that's counteracted by the overwrought voice of a woman screaming her lungs out in all fury. The ghostly "How To Never Wake Up" accompanies a mantra sung by Jana Plewa with grating squeaks that seem to comment on and object to the voice and lyrics. In any case, for Möbius, it is about the interplay between friction and harmony -- sound and noise -- and the constant balance between melodiousness and discord that keeps his music in suspense. The path he takes from a pleasant sound immersion to oppressively disturbing noises is a short one. Twisted humor and sacred seriousness are neighbors, as are autonomy, irritation, and loss of control. The Berlin-based artist creates tracks that suddenly shift from mild and friendly to darkly morbid -- or the other way around. Everything is organically interwoven, arranged in layers, or opposed. Möbius works as a PR agent and runs the music publishing house Autopilot Music Publishing. His PR clients include record companies and promoters such as Shitkatapult, Alien Transistor, Deutsche Grammophon, the Haus der Kulturen der Welt, and CTM Festival. As a music publisher, he handles the rights of artists such as F.S. Blumm, the Trabant Echo Orchestra, Nicholas Bussmann, and zeitkratzer.
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STRIKE 159LP
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LP version. Includes download code. In the beginning there is noise. Not an encompassing and continuous noise, but something choppy and rhythmic. It sounds as if a noise-generating device is constantly being switched on and off in regular time. It's a machine-like pulse that stoically keeps its own time, even if none of the instruments, introduced one by one, follow its rhythm. Nor does the bassline, consisting of four notes played with long pauses, nor the hypnotic tom sequence on the drums. The noise has a life of its own. Its staccatos swell into metallic harmonies that wander around the room without ever deviating from their tempo. The voice of Cambodian singer Prak Chum floats over it all. Its agility and countless, minute modulations make it seem both strange and intimate; grounded and ethereal at the same time. This is "Batagur Baska," the first piece from the album of the same name by Guido Möbius. Nothing on this album actually goes together. One hears bouncy patterns played on analog synthesizers, and then a recorder. Rumbling, grinding industrial percussion develops through vocals played backward into something like acid krautrock. "Call The Police Now," with its shakers and soft vocal lines, has a bossa character that's counteracted by the overwrought voice of a woman screaming her lungs out in all fury. The ghostly "How To Never Wake Up" accompanies a mantra sung by Jana Plewa with grating squeaks that seem to comment on and object to the voice and lyrics. In any case, for Möbius, it is about the interplay between friction and harmony -- sound and noise -- and the constant balance between melodiousness and discord that keeps his music in suspense. The path he takes from a pleasant sound immersion to oppressively disturbing noises is a short one. Twisted humor and sacred seriousness are neighbors, as are autonomy, irritation, and loss of control. The Berlin-based artist creates tracks that suddenly shift from mild and friendly to darkly morbid -- or the other way around. Everything is organically interwoven, arranged in layers, or opposed. Möbius works as a PR agent and runs the music publishing house Autopilot Music Publishing. His PR clients include record companies and promoters such as Shitkatapult, Alien Transistor, Deutsche Grammophon, the Haus der Kulturen der Welt, and CTM Festival. As a music publisher, he handles the rights of artists such as F.S. Blumm, the Trabant Echo Orchestra, Nicholas Bussmann, and zeitkratzer.
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KK 073CD
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Spirituals by Guido Möbius Remixed. Featuring Senking, Rotaphon aka Bori Hegenbart, Gangpol & Mit, Jason Forrest, Candie Hank aka Patric Catani, Mesak, Sick Girls, Daniel Padden (Volcano The Bear). Guido Möbius' fourth studio album Spirituals appeared in July 2012. Spirituals united subtle humor and dark premonition, transfiguration and kitsch. Six out of the nine pieces on this album use lyrics taken from traditional gospels. Without knowing the originals, Möbius set the texts to new tunes and so used them for his own ends. The subject of spirituality is approached from track to track in very differing ways, whether through hypnotic rhythms, cathartic noise or the reassuring sound of an amateur choir. Thereby the agnostic Möbius is not looking to provoke or invite any kind of religious critique. Much more, he has accustomed himself to something that is deeply rooted in the collective consciousness. Spirituals and gospels can be powerful and energetic. Guido Möbius has brought this energy into a new context. This playful style of creative conversion now finds its continuation. Möbius asked eight of his favorite contemporary musicians to make their own versions of his new Spirituals, and the results could hardly be more varied or entertaining. Senking throws the door open with a kind of doomstep track in his dark and compulsive interpretation of "All Evil Ways." He is followed by Rotaphon, an alter ego of Boris Hegenbart, here with a weightless version of "Blessed Sleep." The French duo Gangpol & Mit turn the feverish "Godhead Appears" into a kind of voodoo-jazz piece with a high speed finale in seven-four time. With a totally new melody and created solely from samples generated by pitch-shifting splinters of the track "Judgment," Jason Forrest has created a true Armageddon Version of this cheerful music for the end of time. Candie Hank aka Patric Catani emphasizes the funk in "The Reign of Sin" with club-friendly Raumpatrouille-Orion-Sounds in his remix of "Reign of Sweet Sin." Harmönia label colleague and protagonist of the Finnish skweee scene Mesak delivered a hypnotic, slow-motion monster with "Babel in Port to Mesak." A wonderfully rounded instrumental old school version of "All Around Me" is provided by the hyperactive Sick Girls. And Daniel Padden (Volcano The Bear) sets a magical closing point with "Send the Ark." Although or perhaps because the remixes gathered together here are so different, Though the Darkness Gathers is an acoustic discovery journey of an album wherein each piece is a fine surprise.
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KK 068LP
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LP version. This is the fourth full-length release by Guido Möbius. On previous releases, Guido Möbius has mostly given lyrics a wide berth. On Spirituals, he now goes the other way and allows himself to indulge in meaning and pathos. Spirituals unites crooked humor and dark premonition, apotheosis and kitsch. With each track, Möbius highlights another aspect of spirituality, be it religious or another kind. Indeed, maybe one does come close to a feeling of transcendence through hypnotic rhythms. Maybe one can even achieve purification through noise or just take solace in singing spiritual songs. Möbius plays with the neo-pagan spirituality of black metal as well as with the egocentric rallying calls of soul music. He evokes the spirits of the end of days and harnesses the touching confidence of an amateur choir. His pleasure in the unexpected is ever-present in his music, as is his preference for unusual sounds. Six of the nine tracks on Spirituals use the texts from traditional gospels. Without knowing the originals, Guido Möbius gave these lyrics new melodies and used them for his own purposes. Following two albums of predominantly chamber music, this time, he uses the instrumentation of modern dance music for this release; however, he still can't be pigeonholed. On "Godhead Appears," he combines fevered percussion with Kiki Bohemia's elegant singing and Andi Otto's cello playing. On "Babylon's Falling" we hear layers, stacked like geological sediment and streaked through with a restless pulse. The rhythmic saws and squeaking sound on "All Evil Ways" combine with a morbid groove. Then there's "Judgment," with its dry funkiness and "Blessed Sleep," with cutting guitar layers and noises of all kinds. The echo effect on "The Reign Of Sin" lets loose whispers from ghostly voices, while most of the sounds on "All Around Me" come from the automatic tuner on an everyday portable radio. This album has a light and a dark side -- one dedicated to redemption, whereas the B-side is more dedicated to damnation. Includes free download.
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KK 068CD
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This is the fourth full-length release by Guido Möbius. On previous releases, Guido Möbius has mostly given lyrics a wide berth. On Spirituals, he now goes the other way and allows himself to indulge in meaning and pathos. Spirituals unites crooked humor and dark premonition, apotheosis and kitsch. With each track, Möbius highlights another aspect of spirituality, be it religious or another kind. Indeed, maybe one does come close to a feeling of transcendence through hypnotic rhythms. Maybe one can even achieve purification through noise or just take solace in singing spiritual songs. Möbius plays with the neo-pagan spirituality of black metal as well as with the egocentric rallying calls of soul music. He evokes the spirits of the end of days and harnesses the touching confidence of an amateur choir. His pleasure in the unexpected is ever-present in his music, as is his preference for unusual sounds. Six of the nine tracks on Spirituals use the texts from traditional gospels. Without knowing the originals, Guido Möbius gave these lyrics new melodies and used them for his own purposes. Following two albums of predominantly chamber music, this time, he uses the instrumentation of modern dance music for this release; however, he still can't be pigeonholed. On "Godhead Appears," he combines fevered percussion with Kiki Bohemia's elegant singing and Andi Otto's cello playing. On "Babylon's Falling" we hear layers, stacked like geological sediment and streaked through with a restless pulse. The rhythmic saws and squeaking sound on "All Evil Ways" combine with a morbid groove. Then there's "Judgment," with its dry funkiness and "Blessed Sleep," with cutting guitar layers and noises of all kinds. The echo effect on "The Reign Of Sin" lets loose whispers from ghostly voices, while most of the sounds on "All Around Me" come from the automatic tuner on an everyday portable radio. This album has a light and a dark side -- one dedicated to redemption, whereas the B-side is more dedicated to damnation.
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KK 049CD
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This is the third full-length release by Berlin's Guido Möbius. First of all, Gebirge sounds quite different from everything Möbius has previously released. His first two albums, Klisten (Klangkrieg) and Dishoek (Dekoder) featured melodies on a collision course with sounds, styles and idiosyncrasies, melancholy and humor. Everything was interwoven, multi-layered and contrasting. But despite their complexity and their finesse, neither of the two records sounds severe or academic; instead, they delight with genial and intelligent instrumental music. Whereas these two predecessors operate to a great extent without any beats or basses, Guido Möbius makes full use of the latter on Gebirge. Here they are: straight bass drums, sub-basses and handclaps. Also present: all kinds of machinery noises serving as snaredrum-surrogates, clanking metal, spluttering cables and funk-guitars. Furthermore: brass sections that sound as if the inmates of a tuberculosis sanatorium had reluctantly reached for their trumpets. It is out of these elements that Guido Möbius constructs rough, creaking tracks that, despite their strangeness, prompt swaying hips, every time. After all, Gebirge was greatly inspired by Möbius' live sets, which fervently dovetail funk with experimental, noise and techno. And yet Gebirge has another surprise: vocals. Möbius used 4-track-virtuoso Andreas Gogol aka go:gol as a lead singer for this record. Gogol, a multi-instrumentalist himself with a preference for grotesque sound constructions, employs a multitude of onomatopoeic, imaginary tongues on Gebirge. At times, it sounds as if James Brown's body had received Kurt Schwitters' soul. Möbius masters the art of subtly slipping us radical sounds and keeping a track in its flow even with the hardest breaks. An industrial groove mutates into a main-floor rave and eventually into a beatboxing solo. Meditative/Kraut-y guitar-string hammering turns out to be the priming for a tight beat, which again runs into playfully-filtered organ grooves, which again sound the bell for techno-rock and polyphonic brass arrangements. Guido Möbius' music is instantly recognizable because of its wit, its wealth of ideas and its very own humorous, inventive, and charming musical dialect.
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