Burning Star Core - 'Three Sisters who Share an Eye' (No Fun)

Three Sisters is a somewhat less grandiose approach to art and packaging - coming from the minimalist paste-on style like the West Coast live LP. For all voice and electronics, Three Sisters is also a minimalist approach. Both sides begin with throaty, reverby sounds that coalesce into some thick, ecstatic drones. Side A's is dirty and low-level, while side B's is more deep-listening and mellow. Both drift into the ambient distance, but not without recalling thick caterwauls of machine-driven forcefield exoticism, tender pulses, emphatic murmurs and gestures galore; it's a recollection of potential futures and ad-hoc journeys. When you pick up the LP and tilt it, the grooves are uniformly spaced - an encouragement to feel, rather than to hear. Fuzz on stylus or uncomfortable crop-dusting? This is a humongous sound flattened between two slices of all-grain bread. It's not ever going to be the Burning Star Core records that jumps in my mind as "definitive", and after the schizophrenia of our last review this one feels also intentionally focused. But while album-length, this may always be relegated to 'sketch' territory for me.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Untitled' (Ernst)

But wait, there's bonus Brinkmann! Discogs tells me this is untitled, where the label offers "Max Ernst + (square root of 3)". The square root of 3 sounds like the name for some late 90s electronic dude so I wouldn't be surprised if this was a collaboration. Musically we get two very similar sides, bursting with eclectic beats, all quite clean of course. But this isn't just the territory of shiny handbags and glow sticks, cause there's something very soulful about these sonorities. At times the second side reminds me -- slightly -- of worldbeat hybrids, or even bands like O.Rang (not a bad thing, not a bad thing!) but there's also some 70's disco soul as well. It's more Detroit than Berlin, but actually someone who knows more about electronic can make that call, not me. I'm not sure how much I'd ever spin this unless I was having a party, but that ain't happening soon, cause, well, I'm too busy listening to records! I can't imagine ever needing to hear more Brinkmann but I guess this stuff works like that.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Olga/Petra' (Ernst)

There have been times when getting through 36 tracks of minimal techno seemed like an impossible task, but I'm proud to say I made it. There were ups and downs - maybe even a consistent wave of ups and downs - but at the end of 'Petra', my final entry in the female names series, I felt relief and satisfaction. It helps that this is one of the strongest entries in the series, with 'Olga' particularly probably most successfully realising the idea of "minimal techno". The two tracks here are incredibly stark, unadorned bass drum thuds with little/no variation. It's not a rich psychedelic tapestry, but it's a perfectly acceptable attempt at extreme aesthetics. 'Petra' picks up the pace a bit, with the first track falling into a 1-2 rah-rah techno beat, though again Brinkmann holds back and the piece is marvelously monotonous. Part of me almost wants to hunt down Q-Z because I *hate* incomplete collections, but, they day I bought these, that's all that was available. Possibly, that's all that had been released at the time. I always assumed a DJ died that week and his mom sold his records. My partial collection is not worth holding onto though, so, offers welcome in the comments thread. I have a friend who tries to follow a "format rule" as strictly as possible - if he started buying, say, Dead C albums on CD, then he must always try to get the other Dead C albums on CD, not vinyl. I think he maybe has even passed up some gems because it would break the rule, though given the infrequency of dual-format releases these days (particularly with smaller labels and a more marginal market for physical media) this is probably near impossible. He might be reading this now, in which I say "hi".

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Monika/Nicola' (Ernst)

The end is near, but first we gotta trudge through four more techno tracks, named after Monika and Nicola. 'Monika' starts with a full on dance party, but it's the second track that gets back to what I'd actually call minimalism. There's a lot of chirping and high-pitched oscillators zig-zagging back and forth, and I like it. I don't think it's enough to keep my interest though; by the end of 'Nicola' I've tuned out, unable to lock into the relentless grooves. I know Brinkmann is really celebrated but it's still dance music to me; I don't think he fights the impulse for the easy dancefloor hook enough, and that stuff is just kryptonite to my ears. Space is good, and on the best tracks I think he achieves this despite the frantic pace. But 'Nicola' thickens up the mix with resonating bass frequencies and wider brushstrokes; I'm sure this approach has its champions but I'm unfortunately not one of them. We've only got one more named Brinkmann to get through, and at the moment, I'm thinking these have to go on the sell pile. They've been cluttering up Dislocated Underbite Spinal Alphabetical Encourage Templates for far too long, and the parts I'm fond of aren't enough to justify keeping them. Maybe there are one or two sides I like, but these belong together as a set, even though I don't have anything past P.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Karin/Lotte' (Ernst)

Instead of the two sides of this record representing two personalities, it's somewhat sideways. The Women of Brinkmann series is always two tracks per side, but in this case the first track of both 'Karin' and 'Lotte' bear similarities, and the second tracks too - there's more cross-side affinity than same-side, dig? To analyse this in musical terms, well, the easy way to put it: the first track of each side is fun and the second one is intense and menacing. 'Karin' is so fun that I truly don't enjoy it, as it's upbeat dance clang is marred by excessive vocal sampling. These voices keep urging me to shake my ass or something like that; I try to tune out the meaning and just focus on the human voice as instrument, but alas, I fail to appreciate it. 'Lotte's opening cut is less loquacious but just as bouncy. I enjoy it more, though part of me thinks I've gotten stuck in that horrible rave scene in Matrix 2. Of course, this is eletronical minimalism but it feels like Brinko's lost the plot a bit; it's all right to desire diversity and development in one's work though, so I don't want to fault him for not making record-after-record of 'clicks and cuts'. I've enjoyed the sides that show the more pulsing, dark atmospherics, and the second half of 'Karin' is exactly that. The undercurrent builds up and it's relentless, though hammering with dull thuds instead of the icepick poise.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Inge/Jutta' (Ernst)

I might call the first half of 'Inge' the LEAST minimal effort to date. Yeah, the beat is constant, but it shifts gears quite a lot, and is based around a thick, vampy synth organ. The accents are nice icing on this cake but the whole feel changes up a lot and it's hard to really lose yourself in the mindless repetitive thik-thik-thuk that the better tracks in this series achieve. Yeah, you know I'm flipping out every time I listen to this, bashing into walls and shaking my elbows at the mechano-motor. 'Inge's second half retains the artificial submarine seascape but with a more propulsive bass patch. It's also not immune to a few changeups, which if the sound sources weren't so barren and strange would probably feel extremely clichéd. 'Jutta' is practically triumphant, with an open-arms beat that starts to feel a little bit immature once the synthy drum fills start. But it's Brinkmann's stadium rock, I think. After all, he's the rockstar who's made a 12" side to prove he's banged the whole alphabet, right? The doot-doot-doot factor is high on 'Jutta' but that's the way it goes I guess. Please forgive these terrible images I stole from discogs.com out of lazyness; but I guess you get the idea pretty quickly.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Gisela/Heidi' (Ernst)

As these go on, I swear they are getting less and less minimal -- or maybe I am just hearing things I never heard before, which is always a way to gauge a minimal product's success! 'Gisela' starts with a rather hip-hoppy vocal sample which pops up a few times as it goes along. This is a testament to partying down, good times, having fun, and shaking booty. There's more upper mids than the last 12" and it's a bit less special, less exotic. But no worries, cause this is one to just cut back and dance to. All proceeds according to plan, particularly across the sides with 'Heidi's first half, but the second half, my god, is a nervous, cluttered nightmare. Brinkmann likes to take it to the dark side now and then; here's another dense, anxiety-driven fever dream to close out the disc. It's effective theatre, yes, but I admit I was already wondering about the next one.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Erika/Frauke' (Ernst)

'Erika' begins as a bit of a minimal nightmare - the most rudimentary kick and click, but you're trapped inside a closet where you can distantly hear birds outside but someone in the nearby room keeps making the "error" sound on their PC. It's maddening and effective, and I wonder what LaMonte Young would make of it? This is music that has the ability to affect the body and brain in strange ways, though not in the least bit of a fun dance kinda vibe. The second part is a bit fruity, reminding me someone of a Holger Czukay bassline. There's always a nice juxtaposition between incredibly cris and synthetic sounds, and hissy, thick wooly ones. There are a few keychanges but don't blink or you'll miss 'em. It's quite a lot of gumballs and other goofyness, so it comes as a strange surprise to those expecting nothing but austere German minimalism. 'Frauke' has a hint of ethereal mist, but the synthetic bass pulse is undeniable. It builds up a combo of spastic keypushing and wailing sirens, but all mixed so low they're easy to tune out. A weird effect. The second side of 'Frauke' is even moodier - a repetitive woodpecker pulse is there but it's subsumed by the cloudy ambience. It's a slightly detuned, warped synth pad and you can't help but feel that things are melting, despite the rock-solid pulse. This has been my favourite so far.

David Bowie - 'Low' (RCA)

The late '70s Bowie records are enduring favorites among art-rock scholars, Britheads who wear weird sunglasses and people who spend a lot of money on shoes. It's funny when listening to Low now because I don't really know where to place it. I don't think it's an amazing experimental depature but it is definitely cold and alienated. It's a tale of two sides though, positively Lorcalike in it's distinction. The 'rock' side, A, feels pointedly futurist, with a weird (yet Eno-driven) band. The instrumentals at the beginning and end are a little too polished for me; Eno's crazy synths (which are detailed in the notes for each track) recall the early Roxy stuff, but much more serious, much more pessimistic even. Though there are some searing guitar bits and occasional stadium-rock flourishes ('Sound and Vision', right??) I generally feel like I'm driving around some shithole Northern European city staring at concrete 90' angles through a dirty backseat window. I know it's probably side 2 that people get excited about, but 7 times out of 10 I'm gonna go for the pop stuff. The second side, well, it's bleak and intense and thick with synths. I think 'Warszawa' sets the tone pretty well, and you can probably argue there's a pretty good Eno/Bowie balance here. 'Weeping Wall' is the solo Bowie track, a rare example of pure experimentation, and the xylophone surely shows the influence of West Coast minimalism. Well, that and the dense, horizontal sound walls. This is a record that has a place in rock history I've never quite felt was something I could get behind; I must say I like party Bowie, so gimme Hunky Dory or Diamond Dogs any day. But I don't own those records; I own this and Lodger which is *not* me trying to show off my art-rock cards (I have enough other examples of that) but purely circumstance: I only got into Bowie in my late 20s (because as a kid I saw a horrible Tin Machine performance on Saturday Night Live and swore him off forever), and thus passed up all the classic glam-pop albums a million times in my record hunting days, only coming across these late in life at flea markets. This was made around the same time as The Idiot and Lust for Life by Iggy Pop and it carries that same hard, dark side of the 70s Eurotrash vibe that I learned to love about those albums. I assume this could grow to be a favourite, but Lodger goes just a bit further and maybe that's why I warmed to that more quickly. This is on the same shitty vinyl as all other RCA releases in the 70s so maybe it would sound better if I heard a decent pressing.