The Master of sonic galaxies: R.I.P. Klaus Schulze

 

Klaus Schulze, a truly unique trailblazer, a relentless musical innovator with colossal discography filled with superhuman epic journeys through galaxies of sounds... has died on 26 April 2022. 

It is an over-used expression, but in His case, true to the letter: a unique mind, a unique spirit, a unique musician. To the very end, despite his colossal achievements, he remained charming, gentle, even self-parodising, with a lucid and stunningly honest view of his own artistic achievements.

My "first" was the impossible to describe or even grasp Timewind, when I was almost 14 - and it was something literally out of this world, it was like nothing ever heard or imagined to hear ever. It was the start of decades of excited discoveries. 

It was something that taught me: there is music that breaks every convention, every preconception - it just emanates from the fabric of the Universe, it surrounds you, it evolves and it cannot be poured into words chosen by a feeble ordinary human mind. One just had to surrender oneself to it and embark on a journey beyond journeys.

So a huge thanks for many decades of just superhuman meditations, of sound worlds that just came into being and evolved with myriad scintillating details. 

An era has ended - not just in electronic music. If Yannis Xenakis in his avantgarde and seminal Musique Formelle talked about galaxies of sounds, when modeling mathematically musical events, well, Klaus Schulze created those with pure human spirit and emotion.

He made impossible music possible - and instantly recognisable as something coming out of His studio, His mind. 

Even his collaborations are stellar, and out of this world. Who would have thought Lisa Gerrard's vocal improvisations will meet in something truly unique with the electronic Grand Master's improvisations? Or that Wolfgang Tiepold's phenomenal and heartfelt cello improvisations would blend with intricate electronics so well? And then we have Ash Ra Tempel, we have Tangerine Dream at the beginnings, to name just a few more giants of the musical landscape.

May He rest in peace and travel among unimaginable galaxies of sounds of a very special Universe he managed to give us glimpses of.

Returning from turbulent seas: Paul Haslinger's Exit Ghost II

 

Being an influential member, even if temporarily, of a legendary band with individual voice in the global music landscape can affect later on the way in which the band's fans react to one's solo albums... especially when those significantly depart from what is "expected" by those fans. 

If a band is as long-lived and influential as Tangerine Dream is, then its ex-members' solo efforts inevitably get compared by fans, and not just, to the style and sonic universe of the TD albums from various eras. 

When Christopher Franke released his highly visual, descriptive (thus, in classical terms, program) music on his first solo album (Pacific Coast Highway), there were not only ovations... but also dismay from some. It was not "like TD". It was "disappointingly" not TD. 

Paul Haslinger, another notable name in Tangerine Dream history, has quite a few soundtrack, solo, and collaborative albums under his belt. Even so, his fragile, almost translucent, ethereal album Exit Ghost stunned some - not in a positive way. It was a radical departure not only from TD, but also from his own previous creations... 

Probably similar things happen with the new album, Exit Ghost II... One can always judge a composer by the musical range he/she is capable of (even if one is not subjectively enjoying some segments of that range), or one can just judge it by comparisons with what is "expected". In latter case, it seems useful to provide a very early hint to those listeners - and let them know that this album, too is a radical departure from "expected" TD-like music. 

Its predecessor was born under exceptional circumstances - and this sequel comes just when the world is trying to return from the lengthy shock that was Covid's arrival. 

To quote, the album was "born out of an incessant need to escape the trauma that has gripped the world for the last year coupled with an urge to complement the introspective and moody atmospherics of the last record, ‘Exit Ghost II’ is the counter-element that closes the circle".

The very first things to remark is that it does have a wider sonic range, with even orchestral textures - it does feel more luminous and emotionally charged. However, it still has that sublime quality that we heard on the first album, and entire passages of it can only be compared to the gentle, remarkably introspective soundscapes we hear on Ryuichi Sakamoto's Async or many Olafur Arnalds albums. 

Cambium, the opening track does place us in the minimalist, charming, piano- and electronic percussion-based Universe we may hear on Arnalds albums. Other piano-centric tracks like Septuagint are playful, adventurous, this particular one playing with 7/8 time signature that is refreshing to hear after so many metric tonnes of firmly 4/4-based electronic music...

Emerald is an example of the ethereal beauty Haslinger can conjure from some floating electronic textures and a few perfect gems of piano motifs. Translucent, exactly as the title suggests, is another example, where choral sounds are at the same time Earth-bound and otherworldly. 

Waltz II and Inversion III return us to a piano-based sonic world, with the former bringing lovely melancholy, while the latter moving out into more experimental-sounding chromaticism.

Mishkin has again an ethereal feel that can be perhaps described as something that Thomas Newman fans would love: fragile, translucent textures punctuated by gentle piano chords. So is Schubert IX Coda, which combines infinitely delicate electronics with subtle piano notes and chords.

The closing track, A Young Fellow is not only standing out with its rich orchestral feel, but it is also charming with its use of voice samples - and overall an uplifting, optimistic ending to the album.

As the notes of the album state, Paul Haslinger’s ‘Exit Ghost II’ is the composer’s quest for arrival after a year lost at sea. 

After a bizarre and in many ways dark, anxiety-permeated year, this follow-up album, ending with aforementioned uplifting track filled with optimism, is really a successful antidote to 2020's dark clouds...

Digital genius: Happy Birthday Wolfgang Palm!

 

On Wolfgang Palm's birthday, it is difficult to enlist just how revolutionary his synthesis method, and the resulting synthesizer, was in the late 1970s.

What the public later became acquainted with under the name PPG Wave was the result of sublime inventiveness and practical genius. 

Palm invented the synthesis method based on rapid cycling through tables of waveforms, the resulting spectral richness and truly unique character of the sounds making it instantly recognisable. 

The key distinction between what some call wavetable synths (which play back complex waveforms, even entire sounds from digital samples) and Palm's method was the use of single-cycle waveforms in tables that the digital circuitry was sweeping / cycling through. Controlling the tables of waveforms, the way in which the sweeps were done etc. one could create astonishing sounds.

Palm's practical engineering genius was not just in the construction of the early prototypes that were fully usable as musical instruments, but also in the creation of the wavetables. Most of the PPG Wave and Waveterm "factory" wavetables are to this day absolute classics, and many digital synths and samplers have imitations or recreations of these classic and unique sounds. 

Nobody sounded like Edgar Froese and Tangerine Dream in the very late 1970s and in 1980, as they were the supremely "lucky" electronic musicians to get their hands on early incarnations of Palm's invention.

If we listen today to Froese's Stuntman solo album and Tangerine Dream albums like Tangram and Exit, we are still struck by the beauty and the timeless nature of the sounds emanating from the PPG Wave synths.

Later it permeated electronic music genres ranging from space ambient to synth-pop, the number and kind of artists using the PPG synths is staggering. One finds the characteristic sounds on everything from A-ha to Ultravox records.

A testament to the enduring value of the synthesis method is that Waldorf synths have brought us many immensely beefed-up variants (including plugins that recreate the classic PPG Wave versions' sounds). 

Waldorf Wave, a hugely expensive monster, was one example - but much more affordable and powerful later incarnations of the technology are with us today. 

Waldorf microWave and Blofeld are just two examples, and Behringer have also announced that they would create a PPG Wave clone. At which point one has to mention that the latter had analogue filters, which gave it extra character - and Blofeld for example models these filters digitally.

Happy Birthday Wolfgang Palm and huge gratitude for revolutionising the electronic sound landscape!

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...

Fifty Years Of Unique Audentity: Klaus Schulze

Borrowing the pun of one of his landmark double albums, it seems fitting on the last day of June to look at the vast body of work of one of the most individual electronic music visionaries of our times, someone with a very unique and instantly audible identity... pardon, audentity...

In June 1970, the first album appearance of Klaus Schulze occurred. At that point he was a member of what has become a veritable institution in the electronic music sphere: the band Tangerine Dream, founded by the late Edgar Froese.

Electronic Meditation was the first and last Tangerine Dream album that featured Schulze - as he promptly moved on to establish his, by now legendary, solo career. 

Audiences may not have suspected at that time that the drummer, who joined Tangerine Dream after a brief and unreleased musical contribution in the rock band Psy Free, would become a unique and vastly (seldom successfully) imitated electronic music luminary.

His early solo albums, Irrlicht and the double LP Cyborg, presented us a daringly and unashamedly experimental musician who could conjur up entire strange worlds in as long as possible continuous compositions. Back then, the physical medium only allowed twenty-odd minutes of continuous sonic poetry... but the later Klaus Schulze of the CD era could mesmerise us with seventy-plus minutes long monumental electronic structures...

Well before "trance" entered the terminology of music, and well before it has become a label for a particular sub-genre of electronic music, Klaus Schulze was creating an unmistakeably personal and truly unique kind of electronic trance.

One could pick from his vast discography the hypnotic Timewind and Mirage from the heroic and analogue 1970s, the astounding Audentity or En=Trance from the confident and digital 1980s, the spellbinding Das Wagner Desaster or In Blue of the mature and limitless 1990s... or the epic, but intimate, Rheingold or Silhouettes of the recent years...

The one central trait of all Schulze albums has been a rare, much sought-after, and countless times attempted to be imitated feeling that this music simply comes into being, without someone playing electronic or other instruments... and it exists, flows, occupies all available space without any human intervention.

It is impossible to listen to Klaus Schulze as background electronic music. Whilst he was and is recognised as a giant of the sequencer-oriented Berlin School of electronica, Schulze's music demands close attention.

Even if, on the surface, repetitive structures or sequenced elements are present, they are full of continuously changing, morphing, flowing myriad details. The intricacies of his live or studio performances are dazzling, if one closely listens to the ever-changing sonic Universe he achieves to create in our room. 

Over the fifty years, Schulze has never stopped innovating and changing. Sure, some artistic decisions could be seen as questionable or one could point out major U-turns in his ars poetica.

The key aspect one must not forget is that artists like Schulze have experimented with sometimes wild departures in highly unexpected directions, instead of standing still. We may wish that we had been treated to countless repetitions of Timewind and we may go misty-eyed when thinking nostalgically of the musical world of Dune or X. 

However, as in the case of Tangerine Dream, one has to realise that instead of self-repetition, such artists were daring enough to constantly seek out new directions, experiment with even never before touched technologies, and move with the times - or, actually, define those times. 

He has treated us to superhuman-looking and -sounding live improvisations, impossible to dissect and mind-blowingly complex whirls and galaxies of sequencer patterns, vast floating sonic ambiences before ambient music became a term, trance-inducing grooves before trance music became a term, imaginative and daring use of sampling, collaborations with legendary musicians as far from electronica as one could possibly imagine... Who would have thought the legendary  Lisa Gerrard's vocal improvisations would perfectly and astonishingly blend in with Schulze's vast sequenced structures in a live setting, too?... 

It might be impossible for an avid electronic music, or even Klaus Schulze, fan to like all his live and studio albums... However, the one constant we can easily hear on his albums, irrespective of the fundamentally different sound worlds he has experimented with over half of a century, is that Schulze sound...

What is it exactly? The long flowing compositions? The mind-bendingly complex and constantly shifting sequencer work? The superhuman improvisations running through the fluid soundscapes? The seamless combination of ancient sonorities, even ethnic vocals, ocean-deep sonic textures, and fiery improvised leads?

Even after fifty years of album releases, one cannot be sure... but as soon as previously unknown to me Schulze album or composition popped up on radio or elsewhere, I used to jump: that had to be Schulze!.. and it was.

If there was one person who would, not too strong of a word, hate pigeonholing his vastly varied musical output, it would be Schulze himself. 

As the grand master put it in a recent interview, "Remember ‘fusion’ once? Or ‘jazz rock’? And in 1990 it was for some parts of electronic music ‘acid’, ‘acid jazz’, ‘house’, ‘deep house’, ‘Detroit techno’, ‘rare groove’, ‘New York garage’, ‘industrial’, ‘Latin hip hop’ et cetera. All these fashionable coming-ups of words are not the terms and definitions I think or care much about. I am neither a swish sociologist nor a smart journalist but just a dull little musician who’s doing and enjoying his very own doings, and I call it ‘music’.”

Thus... thank you for fifty years of live and studio albums of music, Maestro... and may we be spoiled by further sonic creations in the future...

The quarantine waves...

Although one tries to resist the temptation for days and weeks, as the lockdown continues one eventually caves in... and posts a "quarantine playlist" of albums that seem to have originated from some other dimension, or have reached us via some electromagnetic waves emitted in some distant galaxy... or emerged from the habitat of previously not noticed tiny organisms.

Thus, on a personal note, a choice of a few albums that might just take someone else, too into the waves and vibrations of vast or infinitesimally small worlds.

The playlist is perhaps manageable in a single sitting (or, actually, lying...), but it needs a very quiet day with quite a few hours to just... be...

1. Tangerine Dream - Zeit 

Among the early, nowadays we would call it ambiental, albums by the veritable electronic music institution that Tangerine Dream has been since the 1960s, we have this double LP dating back almost fifty years...

The reason why I keep returning to this double album is that it is perhaps the most convincing example of 'space ambient'. What I understand and expect under that over-used label is music that simply seems to exist, without feeling that it is being performed by human beings, that there are instruments of any kinds involved in the process.

Zeit simply exists. It fills every available space in the room, in the house, it flows, it changes, it has currents and undulations. There are no shapes to hold on to, there are no structures to be self-conscious about.

It just is...

Yet, unlike many ambient drone music albums, it is constantly changing below its sometimes static-looking surface.

It is almost as if something, someone has managed to transpose into audible frequency range some radio telescope recording of the various electromagnetic activities spotted in distant galaxies.

2. Vangelis - Soil Festivities

On a quiet day, after a lengthy introduction via the sound waves and undercurrents of Zeit, the Greek grand master's mid-1980s concept album is immersing us into a very different world.

We go from the immense and the eminently "macro" to the delicate "micro" world, albeit latter is a very definitely terrestrial one.

Despite occasional sounds of summer storms and rain, this remains a phenomenal combination of minimalism and ambient music.

The delicate, obstinately repeating tiny motifs develop, constantly evolve, and get embellished by a discourse, sometimes a whole multi-party conversation, of other musical elements.

It could be the musical expression of the life of myriad tiny creatures in a rainforest on Earth, but it could equally be anywhere on some exotic other planet teeming with life. The pace of the musical evolution is hypnotising, the whole album has a dream-like quality whilst it seduces the mind with myriad, infinitesimal or large-scale, changes in the musical textures.

Speaking of textures, it is worth paying attention to just how every single synthesized timbre is chosen from the infinite possibilities of Vangelis's sonic laboratory - and how each timbre blends perfectly into the ever-evolving delicate textures.

Sublime, passionate at time, and precise in its dosing of musical energies... an album that is a very unusual and, to this day, unique interlude in the synth master's astoundingly varied output.

3. Michael Stearns - Encounter

The superlative American maestro of space ambient and world music-infused ambiental music has created something that is a rare example of thematic space music.

However, theme and track titles aside, one scandalous way to listen to this album is to not care about the intended narrative that wants to describe an encounter with an advanced alien civilisation.

We return to the world of Zeit, but here we have sometimes vast and thundering forces unleashed... the walls may wobble and neighbours in the street could wonder whether a UFO is actually in the process of landing somewhere.

There are many trademark elements in the compositional and sound design thinking that went into this Stearns album - characteristics that later we recognise in his masterpieces like the soundtracks to Ron Fricke's spellbinding Baraka or Samsara.

There are textures that shimmer and oscillate in mid-air in the room, there are huge floods of cosmic energies that storm through the room and fly off into the distance, leaving us stunned and mesmerised.

During this sonic voyage, we don't travel to distant galaxies, the Cosmos drops by for a visit...

4. Tangerine Dream - Rubycon

Just after their seminal Phaedra album, this one can leave one wondering whether it is the music of intricate inner or outer spaces.

It is, in its two tracks, a hypnotic voyage into some otherworldly spaces that seem to be at the same time cosmic and microscopic.

Maybe this is quantum music, that the late mastermind Edgar Froese talked about many decades later.

There is structure, there are tightly timed pulsations of impossible to grasp physical forces between particles, there are myriad infinitesimally tiny details and shifts in the forces at work... and there is, at the same time, complete fluidity and a sense of timelessness.

Like Soil Festivities, this seems to deep dive into a microworld - but this is not at the level of tiny living creatures, it is way, way below that.

We are listening to subatomic particles shaping up the vast constructs we see through telescopes...

5. Carbon Based Lifeforms - Twentythree

Unlike their pure ambient drone album VLA, this multi-part album has a rare combination of highly cerebral and emotive space ambient music.

It is a very rare experience, after having gone through many decades' output in aforementioned genre, to find something that is so abstract, so devoid of any tangible shape, but at the same time so emotionally charged.

The subtle melancholy of tracks like Held Together By Gravity is sublime and simply beautiful...

Although the creative duo, as we all know, is capable of thundering beats and trendy psy-trance vibes, too, this album is a phenomenally delicate affair.

Despite some of the track titles, which may be pointing us toward Earthly mysteries, we are in outer space... or, at best, in some caves nobody else has yet discovered.

The music gives us something to hold onto, there are tiny shapes we can see in the gaseous clouds, but it gives enough space for imagination to wonder. We can imagine whatever we want, especially if we do not look at the track titles.

6. John Serrie - The Stargazer's Journey

A relatively tiny journey to the American continent can keep us firmly in the sphere of utterly cosmic, but delicately emotive, space ambient.

One of the masters of space electronica from the other side of the Atlantic has this quite exquisite constellation hiding in his discography. It is recent, it is from the new Millennium, but, in a good sense, it sounds like the most stellar 1970s-1980s achievements of space music.

The entire sonic landscape has some intangible gentle melancholy, a sense of one dreaming to be somewhere else in some distant corner of the Cosmos, but at the same time feeling nostalgic about one's own home world.

To sculpt every sound and every transition between what seem to be undulations of gentle clouds of particles, but to make it all feel so fluid, effortless, and without tangible human intervention... well, we are back to the world of Zeit.

If Zeit started us off with the hidden vibrations and currents of indescribable cosmic interactions that exist and will continue to exist independently from us, The Stargazer's Journey is a slow flight among gas nebulae that trigger emotions in us by their, dare we say, otherworldly beauty.

In today's world, where music has been increasingly put into utilitarian pigeonholes (i.e. music meant to relax us, to heal us, to entertain us etc.), we ended up being extremely distant from the Pythagorean ideal of what the 'music of the spheres' is supposed to be.

Serrie's album is a good counterpoint. Yes, it can instantly relax us from it first few seconds, but it is something that defies expectations on what a 'space music' composer sets out to do and why...

From vintage to new territories: Peter Baumann and Paul Haslinger's Neuland Project

It is fair to say that a collaboration album from two musicians like Peter Baumann and Paul Haslinger is no ordinary event in the timeline of electronic music history. In latter history, both names occupy a significant section with not just their time spent as members of the veritable institution that was and is Tangerine Dream, but also with their solo careers.

First of all, one must stress: this is not an album that rides some fashionable wave of mainstream electronica. Also, whilst it does have some not quite veiled references to musical elements one first heard in Tangerine Dream compositions, Neuland is not a recreation of some period from that band's history.

Something that may instantly captivate the listener, right from the first track, is the very evident pedigree of the two musicians. Whilst both had notable solo careers, the immediately recognisable Tangerine Dream DNA is very much present in the opening track's sequencer work.

The sequenced background and vintage-sounding lead propels us back to the mid-to-late 1970s TD sound. Thus, the opening track (Cascade 39) is in many ways pointing to a fondly remembered past rather than futuristic soundscapes.

Things change several times as the album progresses - already the second track, Road To Danakil, shows that darker atmospherics and thundering electronics are not at all alien to the two composers. In a way, one might recognise a certain gravitas in the arrangements and sonic choices, familiar to those who have heard the Machines Of Desire recent solo album by Peter Baumann.

One could always play the game of trying to guess which musician was responsible for which parts of the compositions one hears, and in this collaboration album, too it could be a rewarding game.

Clearly, there are solid sonic fingerprints from Baumann, the playful melodic motifs that punctuate the electronic soundscapes are unmistakably his - and make one think of his solo albums of yesteryear. Such motifs turn up in many places, from the aforementioned Road To Danakil to Dream 9 to Counting On Time (where not only the melodic pattern, but also the digital choir-like choice of synth patch is a direct pointer to e.g. Machines Of Desire).

The way in which Baumann & Haslinger can build effortless-sounding, fluid, and constantly evolving sonic ambiences is very apparent in the mentioned Counting On Time, and Long Now Icarus or Measure 3.

Something that starts as an almost ambient track can evolve into a playful, than animated track like 54_NOVO, with catchy melodic patterns, too.

The final track, Longing In Motion, is another example of something that evolves from the ambiences of vast cosmic spaces to a pulsating, then rather majestic, piece of electronic dreamscape. The forces that were unleashed in tracks like Dream 9 are held back here and gradually, subtly added to the discourse, with gentle pulsating patterns that make us feel firmly rooted in a Berlin School-style electronic Universe.

When it comes to the overall sound world of the album, a couple of aspects are worthy of highlighting.

First of all, it has a quite minimalist feel, in the sense that the sparseness of the arrangements might really stand out to some listeners.

This is not electronica with vast layers of sounds, everything is kept very distinctive and one really can very often count on one hand how many simultaneous elements are at play in the arrangements.

This creates an aesthetic where every detail stands out, as the very translucent and sparse arrangements do not want to, and cannot, mask or blur anything. The listener is not drowned in electronic showing-off of might, instead, one is allowed to contemplate often isolated sparse shimmers and specks of light in vast cosmic darkness.

One example is M-Tron Field, where often just one synth patch with just a few well-isolated distinct notes hover above a background pad (or not even that, just silence and vast reverberations). Every individual sound is allowed to take shape and float around, if it so wishes to, without being drowned in huge electronic orchestrations.

The other, more technical, aspect is the choices made for the depiction of rather astral spaces. Yes, there are some delays and phasing, however most often the task of suggesting vast sonic spaces goes to immense reverbs. Both percussive and melodic synth sounds can feel as they occupy a space only inhabited by some vast galaxies... and with such acoustic backdrop, the vintage leads (like the fiery solo in Measure 3) stand out even more and grab one's attention.

For an even more general and overall remark, there is an element of Neuland that is highly commendable even if someone's tastes or preconceptions might not actually match what one hears on this album.

Peter Baumann and Paul Haslinger, in a stellar collaboration like this and with the very special pedigree they have, could have chosen to produce a trendy, even perhaps safe, mainstream electronica album.

They haven't - and it is a positive.

It is an honest album, that is consistent with their individual styles and compositional preferences, as proven also by the recognisable musical and technological choices they made for this album.

In today's EM landscape it is refreshing to hear such individualist approach and risk taking instead of some drive to fit a successful-sounding pre-existing mould.

Nostalgia, renewal, and Tangerine Dreaming

Nostalgia is a powerful force. If one is tempted to say that the previous statement mainly applies to marketing nowadays, many great writers and poets of the Romantic era would have a chuckle if they could hear that opinion.

Susan Stewart wrote not too long ago that nostalgia is basically “a longing that of necessity is inauthentic … because the past it seeks has never existed except in narrative."

Thankfully, music fans falling into the (most often) deeply pleasing trap of nostalgia can say that, well, they are in a privileged position. The past that they seek is instantly reproducible by replaying a piece of recorded music, it is tangible when they lift the physical medium off the shelves of a record collection.

Still, there are cases where nostalgia, as pleasing as it may be, can become a hindrance to fully appreciating and enjoying novel artistic works. 

A rather unique situation is when a concept, a brand, or even a quasi-institution in art lives on after the originator or founder has passed away. 

Examples of such situations in pop culture abound. Is Spider-Man still Spider-Man after the passing of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko? Is Star Trek still Star Trek long after the passing of Gene Roddenberry?

In classical music, was the splendid Hilliard Ensemble still unquestionably Hilliard Ensemble long after the founding member (Paul Hillier) left?

Even without asking the respective fans, one would be able to say, resoundingly, "yes". The absence of various degrees of outrage rooted in nostalgia is basically absent when it comes to these names and brands.

Thus, before these introductory musings get even more unbearably long, we arrive at a rather unique phenomenon in electronic music. Perhaps in music, in general.

Tangerine Dream is a veritable institution in trailblazing electronic music.

One can say this not merely based on their vast discography, their era-defining seminal studio and live albums, or their classic soundtracks to landmark films. With all the technological and artistic pioneering work that TD's founding father, Edgar Froese, and the many visionary musicians who were and/or still are members of Tangerine Dream have created, this band has really earned a unique place on the firmament of electronica.


Therefore, perhaps it is no surprise that the post-Edgar Froese Tangerine Dream can trigger very strong nostalgia... and very strong subjective opinions, too.

On social media one can see comments along the lines of "this is not Tangerine Dream". One could see even factually untrue, or at best inaccurate, labels like "cover band". The chorus of outrage from hardened fans reading or hearing such opinions can surpass the Earth-shattering pulsations of those trademark Tangerine Dream bass sequences...

During the introduction, with therein mentioned examples from pop culture and classical music, the case of "X is no longer X" after the passing of a creative central figure was hopefully put to rest.

To say that TD is not TD, despite its founding father's explicit wish to continue with the concept, despite the vast array of instantly recognisable characteristics of their music, despite the absolute adherence to the core principles of what made TD the phenomenon that it still is... well, it would be historically and musically erroneous.

A concept does survive and it has full rights to be respected under its original name - if it stays true to itself.

This then lands us in the topic of imitation or, heaven forbid, mere repetition - since some commented that the current TD is merely a "cover band".

In some ways, this has some positive element in it, as it recognises that the brand stays true to what it stands for - even if it wants to deny the presence of continued creativity.

Whilst one should respect opinions, one should, and easily could, objectively refute claims that the current Tangerine Dream lineup constitutes a cover band that just renders tracks from the immense back catalogue.

Why objectively, in such a subjective and abstract form of art that is music?

Well, if one considers current TD a cover band then one disregards important facts: the existence of a critically much celebrated new studio album and the series of epic live compositions that have, thankfully, become a constant presence in TD live appearances.

One should ask the skeptical and eminently nostalgic TD fan: when was the last time that he/she heard such compositions at a "classic" TD concert or on a TD album that pre-dates the current lineup?

We have waited decades to hear what the post-Edgar Froese lineup is treating us to. If a cover band delivers often 40- or 50-odd minutes of new and instantly recognisable Tangerine Dream compositions as improvised live sessions, then we must really rewrite the definition of the term "cover band".

Paddling onto less objective waters, the understandably nostalgic, but intriguingly non-objective, voices seem to also disregard the wider picture.

Namely, Tangerine Dream has constantly evolved and changed, even if sometimes in much
questioned artistic directions. An essential part of these changes was also the series of changes in lineup.

In that sense, Thorsten Quaeschning (who worked with Edgar Froese since 2005!), Hoshiko Yamane, Ulrich Schnauss, and the recent (utterly splendid) appearances by Paul Frick are another very natural phase in the epic saga that is Tangerine Dream.

Joan Baez once wrote:  "My dread is for my show to be a nostalgia act. So the key to it is how do we keep it fresh?"

In the case of Tangerine Dream, whilst one can understand and appreciate the nostalgia that is at work behind aforementioned negative takes, the relentless creativity, astonishing musicianship, and continued innovation one can witness in every new album and live appearance is something to be celebrated.

Those are the elements that are keeping TD fresh, as is a faithfulness to the TD concept. If we listen to the new versions of classic tracks, we can hear how thoughtful and sensitive the new takes are. Sure, this is a subjective matter, but comparing some rather aggressive reworkings pre-dating this lineup and the new takes on classics is a very interesting exercise - and comes very recommended when nostalgia overtakes us.

Whilst we can certainly reminisce when we listen to Phaedra, Ricochet, Stratosfear or Poland (or many more from the astounding TD discography), we could be doing ourselves a huge disservice if we let that nostalgia suppress our senses when we are faced with the spellbinding new Sessions and musical renditions of quantum physics principles emanating from the studio and the stages where Tangerine Dream fire up their synthesizers...




(Photos by the author - Tangerine Dream Live at Barbican Hall, March 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.

Tangerine Dream live at Barbican Hall: yet another landmark of electronic evolution

More than half of a century of electronic music came to Barbican Hall last night...

The London venue is renowned for a very varied calendar, in the sense that it makes a self-conscious effort to select the very best of classical and contemporary music.

On the stage where historic performances of ancient to futuristic music could be seen and heard over the years, by legends ranging from Ravi Shankar to Philip Glass, now Tangerine Dream took the sold out Hall into another Universe...

It was an important live performance for numerous reasons, not "just" another live appearance of an electronic music legend. So below impressions are not a perhaps usual run-down of the tracks and moments the audience could enjoy last night...

Firstly, we are now at a point that is more than fifty years after the band was formed - and we could see and hear them turn into luminaries of what became known as the Berlin School of electronic music. However, as difficult it may be for some to believe this, this is as far from a nostalgia act as certain quasars at the periphery of our known Universe are from our planet...

Sure, the audience always welcomes the legendary classics, and Barbican Hall audience was no exception. One could hear and enjoy parts of Sorcerer, Stratosfear, Poland Live, White Eagle, and as a theatrical master strike, second part of Ricochet, among other classics... but each and every composition was given new life and new energy by the current Tangerine Dream line-up.

Some commented within minutes of the end of the concert, that some renditions of compositions like the one from the Stratosfear album were probably the versions to remember. Let's not forget, this is an album from the mid-1970s, performed by a new line-up in 2019, which sadly has lost the founding member and luminary Edgar Froese few years ago...

The fact that new live versions of such classics can be considered by hardcore fans not only full of new life energy, but also somehow 'definitive' versions, is a huge achievement.

Second important point about the Barbican concert is that in a landscape filled with electronic acts that are focused on a more stereotypical type of electronica, Tangerine Dream still, in 2019, represents a unique island.

Why? Well, this is not electronic music where technology is allowed, or happens, to take over. This is not electronic music that is focused on its functional role.

In other words, as strange as it may sound, unlike EDM or ambient acts focused on functional role of music (i.e. to make us dance or to relax us, respectively), Tangerine Dream is closer to the ancient Greek's views on music. This is music that wants and succeeds to be a reflection of the wider Universe, wants to make us feel a sense of cosmic wonder and to take us out of our everyday reality. Pythagoras, whilst working on his musical theories, would have been happy to hear this performance :)...

In this sense, Tangerine Dream, with a set list spanning half of a century of electronic music, have demonstrated yet again that they are still very attached to the central ethos of the very first experimental years of the band: this is, as new age-ish it may sound nowadays after too much aimless over-use of some terms, cosmic music.

Using today's consecrated EM terms and genre labels, it would be quite a challenge to many EM fans to try to squeeze what Tangerine Dream still creates and performs into one of those increasingly narrowing categories.

Technology is "merely" an instrument here, and we could again see and hear musicians jamming and improvising together on stage. Electronic music? No, not in the way many would understand that word pairing.

Thirdly, it is no accident and no empty semantics in the title under which the performance ran: Quantum Of Electronic Evolution - emphasis on evolution.

All the old and new tracks that were performed have demonstrated eloquently: Tangerine Dream has not been, and still refuses to be, a static band. We can enlist the line-up changes, sure, but also more importantly the many changes in (often highly risky) directions. We can consider the still fiery live performances that every time surprise us with something new, which does not destroy the central intent of the original composition that can date back several decades even. Last night's performance was eminent proof of that.

Technology and people have changed vastly over the increasingly many years, but one could challenge even specialists to come up with a solid number of electronic acts that have not stopped evolving since the late 1960s.

The Barbican Hall performance was at the same time, and as paradoxical as it may sound, sublime and Earth-shattering live night exactly because of this evolution.

We can come up with many names that have spent many years performing the same golden gems over and over again, with a few cosmetic or technological twists here and there. This was emphatically not a concert of that kind...

What may be the ultimate open secret of Tangerine Dream is exactly their attitude to technology.

The reason why current line-up of Tangerine Dream can spend almost three hours surprising, enthralling, and animating the audience is because they are firstly musicians, and only secondly tech wizards.

The vast powers tamed or unleashed by them are serving the musical purpose - let's think of the ethereal improvised sections in the by now traditional live composition that closed the performance, with sublime violin seamlessly blending with electronics.

Let's think of the same sensitive violin, then the achingly beautiful and delicate Mellotron flutes and strings of yesteryear, joining forces with sequencers that could make the building shake.

Let's think of multi-layered and uniquely Tangerine Dream musical lines and curves that build up into compositions where the brain simply, and joyously, gives up trying to follow and analyse what is going on. The renditions of parts of the latest studio album, Quantum Gate, or the classics from Poland and Stratosfear, can be enumerated here.

If Tangerine Dream fans ever needed it, the Barbican Hall performance is once again reassuring them: this band does not stop evolving... 

Paul Frick, very notably, joined the Thorsten Quaeschning, Hoshiko Yamane and Ulrich Schnauss trio in the second part of the concert... and as a theatrical master strike, he surprised us with the legendary piano intro to Ricochet Part II, which still remains a master class in live electronics.

As a fan, a huge thanks to the band for making more than fifty years of electronic music sound utterly contemporary, relevant, meaningful and, above all, moving!

Perception transformations: Sessions IV by Tangerine Dream

The fourth volume of live compositions, whose presence in Tangerine Dream concerts by now have become a firmly established tradition, continues to be a highly valuable addition to one's Berlin School electronic music collection.

As stated before on this blog, whenever attempted to pour into some words the rather indescribable previous Sessions releases, these lengthy live compositions constitute a stunning return of the vast live soundscapes that one could hear during Tangerine Dream concerts from many decades ago - but with an entirely up-to-date sound.

The two compositions on this album were recorded live in Oslo, Norway and in Pisa, Italy, during August and October last year.

The first track Persepsjontransformasjon (or, aptly called, Perception Transformation) is a perfect overture for this CD...

Hearing the gentle mellotron choirs, then the patient build-up of the piece, one can again realise: what others may describe, about other music pieces, as something reaching its "inexorable conclusion", in the case of Tangerine Dream we, once again, have inexorable development.

There is no self-indulgence here, despite the powers that can be unleashed, there are no static repetitions of some patterns or catchy accidents that improvising musicians may have stumbled onto and fell in love with.

As with all other Tangerine Dream sessions, the discipline that is again combined with imaginative treatment of the live music elements is remarkable.

We have a steady development of ideas, culminating in a fiery mid-section of sequenced Heaven. The superb organic textures produced by the violin, the semi-organic mellotron flute,  and the gentle piano sounds that arrive when the tight and hypnotically powerful sequencers fade away are not elements that stand out as contrasting ones to the eminently electronic discourse.

The second track entitled Four Degrees Parallax, which has another splendidly dreamy beginning, proves the same point: the intimate and gentle personality of the violin brought to life by Hoshiko Yamane, the mellotron and acoustic instrument-emulating textures emanating from Thorsten Quaeschning are in no way playing the role of gimmicky sonic contrasts against the high-octane sequencer sounds from Ulrich Schnauss and Thorsten,

As this second track eminently shows, the mind-blowing sequencer sections are making, as paradoxical as this may sound to those who have not yet heard Tangerine Dream or these Sessions, a perfect home for the gentle sounds rooted in acoustic instruments (real or sampled).

One can easily substantiate these claims by inviting the listener to really track how the fiery sequences pull back, dissolve in piano chords and sublime violin dialogues, then run alongside these hand in hand - to finish off with profound bass pads and an achingly beautiful violin hovering above the electronic landscape.

As someone once said about a German baroque composer, there are no straight lines in his music, only curves and waves.

Here we could easily say, well, paraphrase, that there are no cutting contrasts in Tangerine Dream Sessions, only fluid dialogues - between instruments with vastly different characteristics. There are no excesses nor self-indulgent show-offs, only seamless development of countless musical ideas.

Once again, Sessions IV is a two-part journey. Once again, it is a true adventure that will not disappoint, with a full range of experiences ranging from utterly dreamy passages to fluid and ever-changing melodic textures to mind-expanding sequencer fireworks.

As unbelievable and perhaps biased it may sound in the second decade of the 21st century, in terms of form, structure, execution and artistic intent, one finds it virtually impossible to find such electronic music that simultaneously can tick so many boxes.

The band's trust in the listener picking up on the myriad ever-changing elements and joining the band in its adventures has not changed since the first inception of the live Sessions - so those pampered listeners may say that it is impossible not to expect, even audaciously demand, further Sessions releases...