GUIDO MÖBIUS - Gebirge

The path leads toward the abstraction of pop. And this slow, futuristic mutation also passes through "Gebirge", the third album by Guido Möbius.

Having changed course after two albums of refined but not particularly incisive indietronica ("Klisten" and "Dishoek"), the Berlin musician, assisted by another eccentric fellow citizen, Go:Gol, tinkers with mixed instrumentation (electric and acoustic), shaping metamorphic song-bodies with irregular structures and a tremendously adventurous spirit.

Inspired by his live sets, where he loves to freely toy with funk rhythms, noise bursts and techno palpitations, on "Gebirge" Möbius synthesizes a micro-universe of dissonant sonorities, bristly or caustic timbres, and bold hybrids of cultured fervor and solemn popular nonchalance. The result is disarmingly fresh, especially if you carefully analyze the different perspectives from which these materials spring, materials that seem to have found a point of contact between the bizarre alchemy of the Flying Lizards and the post-modern segmentations of Bernard Bonnier.

Thus, over crooked, metallic-pulsing rhythms, slide hypotheses of a poorly digested, outlandish, off-the-cuff pop, amid dopey whistles, Snakefinger guitars that sound like sheet metal numbed by ice, and digital flourishes ("Niemens"). Go:Gol's voice itself becomes a sonic symbol, the android emblem of this effervescent collage-like stratification. Here it is, falsely lost, carving out space among the fake-industrial thuds, the free-form pirouettes and the "geometric" candor of "Being Nice"; or, again, chanting Martian nursery rhymes amid electronic gargling, obsessive harpsichord iterations and creaking doors, while ghosts flee at full speed to the notes of a big band on parade in front of the mausoleum of the absurd ("Dig A Mammoth").

It's all so paradoxical that it becomes mesmerizing. The intro of "I Am Williams Kamera" brings to mind the most spastic and cryptic Red Crayola of "Soldier Talk", but its development follows a sweetly alien design, complete with jaw harp and a jolly pocket trumpet journeying scalarly toward hypotheses of electro dadaism, amid shifting minimalisms and off-beat beats that indulge rap spasms.

It's all so cerebral that it carves tombstones of vibrant lyricism into your heart. We won't be surprised, then, by the Primus–Residents graft of a "Sssplitter" that slyly goes lysergically haywire over techno-dub defibrillations. Nor, heaven forbid, by a "Roosevelt Mayo" that sets a funkadelic dancefloor ablaze with looping wah-wah, foaming tides of grimy sensuality and plump ska moves that square off against carnivalesque tourbillons.

And then, for good measure, the handclaps and electro-acid swirls of "Goose Overman" and the free-jazz post-wave-pop (complete with a drum'n'bass whim, no less!) of "Princess Of Porz (Live)".

A wedding invitation for those who love the seduction of the far-fetched…

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

07/05/2009