Guido Möbius is more of a subtle presence in music, but as soon as you allow the space and time to listen to his works, a well-defined realm of sounds gets to unravel.
There seems to be quite an interest recently in exploring the human voice and its potentialities and Guido’s album makes no exception. He experiments with the human voice and invents sounds, much like Anna Homler did with the Breadwoman character.
As Guido suggests, in the beginning there is noise, a noise that allows for infinite incarnations of sound to take place. The song that gives the name of the album features the voice of the Cambodian singer Prak Chum. Its organicity feels strangely complementary with the suspended aseptic background noise that immerses all the available space, a space so well-defined that it is hard not to feel its immediacy.
Rowno Malin Ternopol starts as a premonition, unfurls into a bout of undistinguishable worded hysteria that leads to pulsating acidic lines escorted by a persistent and trance-inducing drum line.
Windsurfing Chile is brought together on a fairly simple structure, but nonetheless gripping in its clarity. -ing generates a more playful exoskeleton due to the somehow abrupt but still melodic use of voice. This song feels more like a sermon and stays true to the ritualistic and premonitory undertones that give the album an unitary feeling.
Moloch is vigorous and urgent and feels like a commentary on the process of constructing and conceptually ruminating an album.
Call the police now has a deceitful tone; you are unable to tell what it actually stands for, as it features the punitive screams of a woman as a backdrop for the blissful incantations. And this is where the key to understanding this album lies. Opposing forces and concepts converging in order to create a tumultuous harmony. This is not an album that provides you a safe or familiar ground, but be curious enough to stay and listen.
Tracklist:01. Batagur Baska
02. Nach Draussen
03. Windsurfing Chile
05. Rowno Malin Ternopol
06. How To Never Wake Up
08. Call The Police Now