Diaspar Parts 13 to 22
The beautiful thing about Doc Wör Mirran is that which each new release – this is number 184 –, they can turn up in a completely different configuration: as a rock band, as quasi-jazz improvisers, as post-industrial noisesmiths, or as an electronica outfit. This release finds them squarely placed in the electronic realm, but within it, they run the gamut from ambient to trip-hop (yes, indeed: please consult track 4!) to atonal spacescapes reminiscent of radiotelescopic signals from outer space, thus fully deserving of the label Kosmische Musik.
Like its predecessor “Diaspar parts 1 to 12”, the album is based on recordings Doc Wör Mirran made in the 1990s with Conrad Schnitzler, a founding figure of said 'cosmic music' also known as krautrock due to his membership in bands such as Kluster, Harmonia, and Tangerine Dream. But the album also contains material that was recorded much later, in 2020, by the Fürth-based core group of Doc Wör Mirran with EMERGE as a guest. The composition of the album manages to skilfully fuse the older and the newer recordings, not by pasting over differences and gaps with overdubs, but by interweaving the more 'musically' developed tracks with intricate, noisy microsounds. The overall feel is of scanning the shortwave radio band for music or, at least, words in a language one can understand. And as in real life, so on this album, the spaces in-between (melodies, genres, voices, stars) are often the most interesting ones.
File under: trip-hop, sound-art, ambient, krautrock, electronica
factory-produced CDr in cardboard sleeve
Released in 2021
limited to 100 copies
price: 7.00 EUR (excl. postage)
Conrad Schnitzler, Sascha Stadlmeier, Joseph B. Raimond, Michael Wurzer, Stefan Schweiger, Ralf Lexis
Original recording from the1990s, additional recording and mixing in 2020 at Two Car Garage Studios, Fürth Germany.
All cover art by Joseph B. Raimond from the Diaspar series, 2020
Layout by Sascha Stadlmeier
As always, in loving memory of Frank Abendroth and Tom Murphy.
This recording is dedicated to Ed Asner
This is DWM release #184
Doc wör Mirran
From what I gather this is the second such collection of collaborations originally recorded in the 1990s before being then subjected to more work a year or so ago. Sound sources were provided by the late Conrad Schnitzler, Attenuation Circuit’s own Sascha Stadlmeier (a.k.a. Emerge), Michael Wurzer, Stefan Schweiger and Ralf Lexis. DWM’s own Joseph B. Raimond then arranged everything for the ten tracks assembled here, each one simply called ‘Diaspar’ and numbered accordingly. If already familiar with DWM, you’ll know that you can be taken anywhere within a roughly hewn electronic landscape of unevenly chiselled synth shards, ’50s sci-fi film noodling, found dialogue, chirps, miasmic psychedelic undertow and broken industrial weirdness of the kind Nurse With Wound were kings at back in the day. Along the way, everything is sometimes loosely held together by a rhythmic interlude or a series of crackles, whirrs and wheezes that look like they were placed into a semblance of order, but mostly this is typical bizarro DWM fare and, frankly, every bit as good as it can be because of that. I don’t often turn to my DWM releases but when I do I always thoroughly enjoy them. I get the impression Joseph B. Raimond always kinda liked his firm ‘outsider’ status, hence not actively pursuing much beyond, but a lot of his music certainly warrants far more attention than it’s ever been accorded. Of course, on this CD the distinct presence of Schnitzler can also be felt (and anybody with a keen interest in abstract electronic music should already have at least a few of his solo records!), but I’m sure all the other sound sources have played an equally significant role. It’s a great collection of pieces, anyway. Just wish I had the first disc now.
These days may seem to have a flurry of Doc Wör Mirran releases going on, for reasons I may not be fully aware of. Another thing I was wondering about is that sometimes these releases say 'feat Sascha Stadlmeier', and now it says 'feat EMERGE', which is the music project of Stadlmeier. Why the distinction, I wondered. From the music this may not be that clear. Working with sounds from other people, not physically present in the Two Car Garage Studios, is something Doc Wör Mirran has done for a long time, and sounds are recycled all the time. So to see them release something with music provided by Conrad Schnitzler, who passed away ten years ago, is not a strange thing. The rest of the cast is small. Founder Joseph B. Raimond is, as always, present, and Michael Wurzer, Stefan Schweiger and Ralf Lexis. The latter being a trio of keyboards, drums and guitar (if I remember correctly from that one afternoon in the Garage). This new album one can see as the extension/recycling of 'Diasper Part 1 To 12' (Vital Weekly 1293), using the old material, adding and substracting sounds, making new configurations. The music has a more electronic feeling than some other music by this hybrid band. Still, there is quite an amount of variation within that massive realm of electronics to be noted. From the light sounding opening piece to the dark closing piece, the mood keeps changing here all around, dark and minimalist to abundant, trippy, at times slightly over the top. All of the latter in good krautrock spirit, of course. I enjoyed the previous release a lot. This new one is, quality-wise, on par with that one.
Auf „Diaspar parts 1 to 12“ hatte DOC WÖR MIRRAN von Conrad Schnitzler contaminiertes Klangmaterial aus den 1990ern mit Aufnahmen von 2013 gemischt. Diaspar parts 13 to 22 (ACU 1034) setzt das fort mit weiteren Schnitzler-Spuren (und auch wieder von Ralf Lexis), diesmal vereint mit Stoff, den Joseph B. Raimond, Michael Wurzer & Stefan Schweiger 2020 mit Emerge generiert haben. Einmal mehr ist da das Studio zum Instrument geworden, zur Zeitmaschine und Hexenküche, in der nach Sound-Art-Rezepten mit mehr Kraut als Rock geköchelt wurde. Die plunderphonische Autophagie zeitigt unbeschreibliche Mixturen: Surreale Exotica mit fernem Kanonendonner, mit künstlichen Vogelrufen in einem summenden Aliendschungel, als orgelige Synthi-Action in schwallenden Wirbeln, Kaskaden, Schüttungen. TripHop in pianistischer, sanft beflöteter Melancholie. Knarzige, pochende Explosivität mit B-Movie-Charme. Ein langer Trip durch die Geisterbahn der Imagination, durch das Portal einer Hollywood-Schmonzette, tickelnd wie eine alte Filmspule, zischend überrauscht, mit kosmischen Schwebklängen über Psychgitarrendünen. Ein sprudeliges Schwirren, Kurven und metallisches Rucken durch eine Klangskulptur. Mehr Sonic Fiction, glissandierend und mit pulsendem Wellensalat und in Stereo lappender Brandung oder mit metalloiden und orgeligen Verwerfungen über surrendem und mahlendem Fond. Zuletzt umklammert eine verhackstückte Bahnhofsdurchsage eine Chimäre mit rockenden Tatzen und kosmischen Flügeln. Mit Spock gesagt: Faszinierend.