New Music: Lichens, Hausmeister

Lichens - Vevor of Agassou (Kranky 2007)

Lichens – Omns / Kranky

When listening to the opening tracks of Lichens’ (aka Rob Lowe’s) new album, Omns, I can’t help but reference Sigur Rós, mainly the ( ) album. I do realize that these days such a parallel is not the most complimentary comparison, but the shared interest in un-enunciated vocals and warm melodies is hard to ignore. The differences between the experimental Chicago artist and the melodramatic Icelandic post-rockers though are enough to separate the groups as much musically as they are geographically, so certainly do not think that I’m placing both groups on a similar musical plateau. Lowe and vocalist Jon Thor Birgisson just both have a love for exploring vocal possibilities, especially dispelling the need for any kind of lyrical accompaniment to express emotion. They also both share a similar vocal prowess, one of vowel-heavy eeriness that somehow surpasses any creepy tag and heads straight to an intriguing alien-like quality. But while Birgisson wraps himself in pretentious made-up languages, still not completely being able to shrug of the necessity of lyrical direction when vocals are involved, Lowe whole-heartily utilizes his voice simply as an instrument, mostly in a more subdued and atmospheric Tyondai Braxton sort of way. Still though, the similar vocal tones and even sonic directions between Omns and ( ) are worth pointing out, if anything to at least give you an idea of what kind of aural world you are entering into by picking up this album, but there is one absolutely defining difference between Lichens and Sigur Rós that I have to point out: Where Sigur Rós set out to soundtrack a post-apocalyptic world of heavy regret and mournful solitude, Lichens composes the music to a heavy sigh of relief when the chaos of the world finally apexes and we are left with the serene calmness of nature and nothing else.

Lowe’s first album under the Lichens moniker and away from The 90 Day Men, The Psychic Nature of Being, set the stage for such vocal improvisations as well as his love for sparse hints of melodies achieved usually through delicate guitar picking. Omns definitely continues in this direction, but with an expanding palette of sonic possibilities. The first two tracks, “Vevor of Agassou” and “Faeries” are definitely in this mold. “Vevor” combines multi-layered metallic-leaning vocal inflections with warm-toned electric guitar picking. Like all Lichens recordings to date, it meanders, but in the most respectful definition of the term. Lowe explores the melodic possibilities of his tools at hand, establishing a loose sort of melodic theme, but never submitting to any sort of hook. Even though “Vevor” clocks in at nearly five minutes, it seems to fall silent all too quickly and regrefully just as you feel immersed in the track. “Faeries” continues on with the eerie, almost insect-like vocal foundation, but replaces the guitar with careful splashes of resonating piano keys. As I mentioned earlier, it approaches that Sigur Rós-like territory of melodious atmosphere, but never in the melodramatic sense (and I'm sure much more akin to hundreds of other artists, like a large portion of the Kranky roster for example, but since I've established the comparison, let's just stick with it). Think more minimalist drone where the static wall is all but crumbled and the underlying melodies are left to flower now that they can finally feel the sunshine.

Ignoring “Sighns,” a gorgeous two-minute coda of sorts that rounds out the album, the other two tracks of Omns feature Lichens exploring other musical directions. “Bune” especially is a very intriguing song bridging the two halves of the album. A solo electric guitar piece with just the right amount of crackle and feedback to color the tone with character, Lowe actually approaches Hendrix territory… well Hendrix on benzodiazepines. Like his guitar playing on “Vevor of Agassou,” it neither completely meanders nor reveals any sort of consistent theme, but acts as if moving in a particular though obviously unpredictable direction. Clocking in at nearly nine minutes, it surprisingly never seems to lose my attention, which for a song made up solely of structure-less electric guitar is pretty much an accomplishment in itself. And finally we get to the album’s centerpiece, the 18m41s of “M St r ng W tchcr ft L v ng n Sp r t” (care to try and pronounce that?). Broken down into movements, Lowe reveals many of his influences throughout the lengthy composition, from Turkish, Indian and Mongolian reference points to genre specific titles like drone, ambience, pop, psychedelia and classical. At the basic level, we can break it down into three parts, first a minimally droning movement of guitar overdubs, which blends seamlessly into the second segment of slow-burning organ and keyboard chords. Finally, after the somewhat suffocating sounds of church organs, the clouds retract into a crystal clear day, the birds literally come out chirping and Lowe moves back in with subdued vocal improvisations. It is 18+ minutes of serene, unenveloping and caringly placed aural beauty that thankfully sidesteps any melodrama what so ever.

Maybe the most appealing nature of Omns is how it sounds so impossible to recreate. And to further this feeling, the album comes accompanied with a DVD of a 2006 performance at Chicago’s Empty Bottle. Like Lowe’s music, his performances are whole-heartily in the moment; while framework maybe set, I sincerely doubt the final product is ever predicted. If you are in need of warm, exotic, minimal and sincerely caring music or miss the heyday of atmospheric Kranky beauty, do yourself a favor and pick up Omns.






Hausmeister - Ursula (Plop 2007)

Hausmeister – Water-Wasser / Plop

I do my very best to sprinkle my reviews with as many intriguing factoids as possible. Not necessarily just regurgitating the press release, but utilizing it as a starting point for my research and dropping some curious biographical nuggets as well as fun descriptions of the music. The point is obviously to turn you on to interesting new music while stretching my creative muscles in the process, win-win. Well I have to be honest; I’m having a bit of trouble with Hausmeister’s latest album, Water-Wasser. Musician and painter Christian Przygodda is not new to the scene, this is apparently his sixth full-length, but I’m still having trouble digging up any substantial information about him. On top of that, the press release goes on how this poptronica instrumental album refers heavily to French comic artist Moebius or writer Lars Gustaffson. My knowledge of comic books is close to rock bottom, but being a world-renowned artist, Moebius aka Jean Giraud was easy to come by. But again, how this melodic, handcrafted music has anything to do with Giraud, and more specifically his famous comic book series, The Airtight Garage, is beyond me. And Gustaffson? Google-ing the book title accompanied in the blurb, The Third Rochade of Bernhard Foy, only brings up the exact same description of this album in various languages. So, to be absolutely honest, I have no idea how Water-Wasser relates to any of its apparent influences, but I can tell you it is an enjoyable, inventive album of electronic innovations and warm acoustic melodies.

As I mentioned, Przygodda has released a number of albums under the Hausmeister alias, which is German for “caretaker,” or if you ask freetranslation.com: “janitor” (hahaha). Most of these albums are available via German imprint Karaoke Kalk, also home to Takagi Masakatsu, Hauschka and other similar-minded artists. Masakatsu is a good musical reference point for Water-Wasser, especially if you additionally sprinkle in names like Collections of Colonies of Bees, Tortoise and Mouse on Mars. It rides the very well explored line between acoustic and electronic instrumentation, but Przygodda definitely has a trained ear and I’m guessing some formal education mixed in there somewhere because the classical influence is hard to ignore, most notably on album closer “Fynn Und Anton.” There are also healthy doses of pop, folk, jazz and maybe even a touch of prog.

Album opener “Ursula” pretty much sets the stage of what is to come: acoustic guitar and piano melody, light, breezy rhythms, electronic wisps and tinges, and occasional harmonic vocals in the vein of “baba-ba-baaaaaaa.” Just as you think it exists solely as a simple pop ditty though, it completely breaks down into calm acoustic guitar picking in a classical mode before picking up into a short reprise of the initial head-bopping groove. Every other track from here on out is noteworthy. “Raphael,” for example, hopscotches in a cool west coast groove of folksy guitar lines with acoustic and electronic percussion. For good measure, Przygodda accentuates the already very melodious track with pan flute and harpsichord. Between more meandering pieces, “Amsterdam” skitters on a much more accessible Mouse on Mars tip and “Transport” matches classical-leaning piano with bongos and sighing sine waves.

To call Water-Wasser pleasant sounds slightly undermining, but it is an adjective that is hard to ignore with such plaintive, melodic music. You just have to remember that there is some excellent musicianship throughout the album (absolutely no loops used) that mostly excels because of its deceptively simple demeanor. After listening through it completely a number of times, I still have no idea how it relates to epic comic strips or rare novels, but I really don’t think these themes are necessary to enjoying the music anyways. Water-Wasser is music for spring days in the park… with a pretty lady in a bonnet… a fly bonnet… because she’s bringing them back in vogue.