Showing posts with label In search of Hades. Show all posts
Showing posts with label In search of Hades. Show all posts

Saturday, 9 January 2021

Pilots of Purple Bandwagons, pardon, Twilight: The new Tangerine Dream box set

 

After the magnificence and well deserved success of the box set In Search Of Hades, a new Tangerine Dream box set was a much coveted release.

Pilots Of Purple Twilight was to contain not just remastered classics from the Virgin Records era (1980-1983), but some previously unreleased material, too - including movie soundtracks that, by now, have an almost mythical aura. 

And so it did... The ten CDs were an almost guaranteed success in terms of sales, especially as the mastering job plus the sublime (some previously unreleased) material on the preceding box set left fans in a state of awe. 

There are some major positives in the POPT box set, too.

The Dominion Theatre concert in London is now finally enjoyable in its entirety. Previously some parts of it were available in the so-called "live" album Logos (which it wasn't). 

Soundtrack of The Soldier is another previously unreleased gem, so are some tracks from TV series that TD fans have only come across on the bootleg circuit before, in variable quality of course. 

And of course... the soundtrack to The Keep is the stuff of legends. After its decades of very troubled history, several bootleg and all kinds of versions of all kinds of soundtrack music snippets, it only had an official release in a limited run on the TDI label. This box set version was heralded as the definitive official release. 

The remastered classics are by no means lesser players in this box set, especially as albums like Tangram or Exit are not just phenomenal, but they also have huge importance in the band's history & discography. 

After all, Tangram marked a major shift in the band's style in 1980, and it is a spellbinding record even in 2020. Exit is an enduring and mesmerising demonstration of a then brand new technology. The use of the revolutionary PPG Wave synthesiser (the brainchild of Wolfgang Palm) is astonishing, and it stands up as a reference example even today.

However... in the wake of the ISOH box set, POPT has several firm signs of bandwagon thinking. 

Sure, Tangerine Dream itself have enjoyed a well-deserved revival after the hugely regrettable passing of its visionary founder, Edgar Froese - and the band acquired many new fans who previously have not been exposed to their colossal discography. 

The bandwagoning effect is detectable not in the attitudes toward POPT or the classic albums included in the box set... It is more glaring in how the box set was put together and advertised. 

The Keep, as if it needed (or could possible acquire) an any more mythical aura than what it already had since the making of the movie, was heralded as a definitive version that would give us a first ever true experience of the movie's soundtrack.

Actually, contrary to the expectations whipped up to fluffy cumulonimbus heights & shapes, the released material is extremely close to the TDI release of yesteryear. This means that it is still lacks several key musical cues from the film... and some of those are quintessential Tangerine Dream in terms of their arrangement, style, and mood. 

For example, what shows up on some bootleg versions as Glaeken Awakens is a stunningly beautiful, atmospheric, and (in its sound design) absolutely instantly recognisable Tangerine Dream track. This, together with other memorable musical moments (even the opening sequence) is missing from this version, too. But it is the version the band originally wanted to release, so... fair enough, but marketing hype vs. reality was quite an expectation management blunder. 

The remastered versions of the classics are "OK", to use this highly technical word... Nothing that will strike one as a revelation. Once again, after the stellar mastering done on ISOH box set of sometimes very troubled original material, one could have expected something revelatory based on the hype. 

Well... yes, there is some shine, some tinkering with stereo separation, and thankfully it does not compress the heck out of the records, as many new remastered versions of many big names in music almost always do. The dynamic range of the remastered versions is still fine, a big relief in the annoying loudness war that has been raging for a few decades. 

The perhaps biggest and admittedly almost scandalous-looking element in the POPT box set is how decision was made to cram extra, well, "bonus" tracks onto CDs that contain remastered classics.

White Eagle is an experience. It is an album with its well put-together structure. It is a musical journey. One that ends with the truly sublime title track. It ends there, and leaves the room changed, the air is very different and we are different. 

The POPT version is something that borders on the inexplicable, and betrays the approach taken by the publisher. Instead of adding another CD to the box set, for all the disjointed extras, the decision was to fill the space allowed by the physical medium with the bonus tracks - after White Eagle ends. 

Sure, we can press the stop button quickly when, in our reverie, the title tracks fades out with the glistening sequencer notes... if we want to have that White Eagle experience without some other tarcks suddenly blasting the just settled air molecules in the room. But this is not the point. 

Who in the right mind, unless just doing some rush job and/or maximising profit while cutting corners, decides to publish e.g. after Ray Bradbury's Martian Chronicles a bunch of other thrown-together stories just because there is some room left in the chosen binding for the book? 

A rhetorical question. The approach is inconceivable at best, ridiculously amateurish-looking at worst.

Looking at the "bonus" material that was crowbarred onto that CD in particular, the whole exercise is just... puzzling, to put it politely. 

The visual material is also puzzling, and again looks like a "who cares let's just sell this" exercise - even if it was not the real intention.

Some photos are woefully lacking the needed resolution to be reproduced in the size that they are printed at in the box set's mini-book. They look as if somebody did a shockingly amateurish job, taking some very obviously too small photos and badly upscaled them to printed sizes that were evidently beyond what anybody would define in graphic design stage. 

It's a pity that a very commendable effort, with loving selection of unreleased gems and re-issuing of classics, has such shockingly amateurish and downright ignorant aspects. 

Some may have had the misfortune of growing up in a society where one could only obtain music like that of Tangerine Dream via elusive "copy studios", who recorded onto cassettes some copies of legendary albums - as the originals were virtually unobtainable for common people. 

If the enthusiastic kid gave them let's say a 60-minute cassette (which was cheapest and most easily obtainable in shops), then after the recording of the let's say 40-odd minutes of album material there was some extra music thrown in as a loving addition by the "studio". They may have been related to the album in some way, let's say in style or release timeline, or not related at all. 

One just didn't expect to find such random acts in something like POPT - but, at least, the box set triggered some childhood memories of a surreal period in a surreal society, which made one appreciate even more being able to listen to a Tangerine Dream album. So, for that at least, thanks to the publishers...








Thursday, 20 June 2019

Seeking and finding Hades: Impressions on a new Tangerine Dream box set




A poet from 6th century BC, Theognis of Megara wrote that "no man takes with him to Hades all his exceeding wealth"...

However, he had no chance of coming across the newly released Tangerine Dream box set... Both Theognis and (undoubtedly) Hades would approve of this wealth in one's possession - if only they had the chance to listen to the 16 CDs and 2 BR discs of the Virgin recordings from 1973 to 1979...

In Search of Hades not only contains splendid remasters of Tangerine Dream classic albums from the 1973-1979 period, but also numerous previously unreleased tracks that are genuinely spellbinding. The Steven Wilson mixes and Ben Wiseman-remastered versions can be heralded as examples of how informed and sensitive remastering should be done, when we are flooded with countless remastered editions of classical albums that not only over-compress the original material, but may also genuinely massacre those... The Ricochet and Phaedra remastered versions notably also restored their original structure, with material that was either cut or misplaced in some previous releases.

In addition, for the first time one can hear quality recording of certain era-defining live appearances that TD fans so far only could hear in bootleg recordings and mono radio material of highly varying "quality".

First fact to stress is that the previously unreleased material is not a mere pile of studio leftovers and obscure curiosities that stayed in dusty basements for good reason. Instead, they are astonishing electronic soundscapes that are not only musically, but also historically, significant.

The Phaedra Outtakes are of simply aching beauty, with gentle piano, flutes, strings, electronic swirls and indescribable sound effects all combining into subtle, sensitive sonic paintings that are at the same time cosmic and terrestrial, alien and human.

These recordings show again something that unashamedly biased (with good reason) TD fans have known for a long time: the way that Mellotrons are used by Tangerine Dream truly stands out, when compared to the 'raw' and typical Mellotron sounds found in countless electronic and progressive rock albums.

Among the included concert recordings, the Victoria Palace live appearance is particularly notable, as some remarked: it is an evolutionary 'missing link' between the sound world of Atem and that of Phaedra.

Not only we have here a group of fiercely innovative musicians improvising live, something that in electronic music cannot be understated, but the sonic gems of this concert have the ambient soundscapes, fluid and utterly sensitive meditations of what we could hear on the classics Zeit and Atem. These are seamlessly blending with the more melodic Mellotron strings and flutes, underpinned by tight pulsating sequencers, a novel and characteristic sound that on Phaedra became a global phenomenon.

Nothing ever stays static, nothing ever has straight lines or perpendicular sharp corners. Everything here is fluid, constantly changing and evolving...

This Victoria Palace concert is also perhaps the most audible example of the heroics that some may take for granted nowadays: one can hear how the sequencers are drifting out of tune, how the jamming musicians make this process an organic part of their improvisations and we also hear how the naughty analogue equipment is being tamed again, with on-the-fly re-tuning.

The other two London concerts, at The Rainbow Room and of course the Royal Albert Hall appearance, are connecting us more with the sound world we know from Phaedra and Rubycon perhaps, but here, too we have ample improvised compositions firmly rooted in a unique variant of space / ambient music that Tangerine Dream have unleashed on audiences well before ambient was called ambient...

In the fiery sequencer patterns we already hear elements of what Ricochet was to be, as a supreme example of Berlin School wizardry that stood the test of time. One can defy modular enthusiasts and sequencer magicians of 2019 to even replicate or emulate the astonishing sequencing present on these recordings from more than four decades ago.

The concert recordings show musicians achieving something in the 1970s that is rare even today, despite the mainstream position that some genres of electronic music occupy nowadays in major live performances and festivals. These live recordings are simply humbling: one has to clash with, and firmly realise, one's own limited human abilities, when trying to even follow the intricate multi-layered details swirlingly unleashed on us by these musicians.

Here we have largely improvised jams spanning, and seamlessly combining, distant corners of many different galaxies of electronic music. Actually playing multiple layers of intricate patterns emerging from fiendishly unstable analogue sequencers, instead of static repetitive patterns that many even now think sequencers are for? Of course, why not. Seamlessly blending spacey electronic atmospheres with gentle, almost fragile flutes and strings, piano textures and human voice? Of course, why not? Do taped strings pushed through phasers and modulated effects sit at home with pulsating Berlin School patterns of a very ordered and structured Universe? Sure.

Clearly, above is a far from exhaustive overview of the box set, but even if one omits mentions and reactions to the vast amount of musical material of this treasure chest, the Oedipus Tyrannus simply must be mentioned.

This is perhaps one of the, if not the, most mythical Tangerine Dream albums. It only existed in various unofficial forms, in highly variable (but consistently low) quality versions and it gained a mythical status not only due to these factors, but also because it contains a monumental electronic suite.

The epic material takes us from the avantgarde atmospherics of the Overture to the mind-blowing sequencers of the Battle to the playful melodic inventions of Baroque (latter actually being more of a Renaissance-era slow dance if one wishes to do nitpicking, when listening to the characteristic melodic lines). It further shows, as if there was any need, that Tangerine Dream has been and remains quintessential to the history of not just one genre or sub-genre of electronic music, but to the history of electronic music, full stop.

The range of music on just this box set shows how they have remained influential for vast arrays of electronic music ranging from most avantgarde and experimental ambient to the most mainstream sub-genres.

So what would be the single central characteristic of this vast collection of music released in this box set? Can one condense into a single word all the breathtaking and fiery improvisations, delicate and fragile melodic inventions, vibrations of star systems from distant outer space, waves and fluid motions of unidentifiable liquids, swirls and storms of strange aethers?

Most definitely, yes - and Tangerine Dream fans can put it down as nothing surprising, long-known by them and merely re-enforced by the proofs in this box set:

Imagination.