Drone Records
Your cart (0 item)


Format: LP
Label & Cat.Number: Heilskabaal Records HK006
Release Year: 2007
Note: first STAPLERFAHRER-LP on new label from Groningen / NL
Price (incl. 19% VAT): €12.00

More Info

First LP of this dutch project - experimental compositions using drones, field recordings & electronic elements in a very idiosyncratic way. To discover !

"... Treetops, the first track, quietly seeps into the consciousness, shimmering and subtle atonality wafting gently in like the almost imperceptible gateway between dimensions, as the listener passes from the world of light and free-flowing air and into the unfamiliar strangeness of the realm of living wood and claustrophobic closeness. Slowly over time the fifteen minute track metamorphoses, the atonality and menace becoming more marked and sinister, creating a sense of edginess and unease; one can readily imagine a thickly treed wood atop a silent hill somewhere, a place where dusk has permanent residence, even in the height of summer, a place where the sun fights it way forcefully through the canopy only to fall palely onto the threadbare carpet of undergrowth. This is the domain of creatures and denizens of folklore and myth, a kingdom perhaps where those beings shunned by science have their last and most secure abode. At the last, strange blips like Morse code pierce the veil between the worlds, the last message of the unwary and trapped traveller before leaving this world forever...
Lullaby (for my Dad) starts off with a pulse beckoning us into restful sleep, eventually being overlaid by a quiet screeching and howling, maybe reminiscent of the night-mare of fable, visiting us in order to disturb our nightly wanderings and imaginings. This is like standing in pitch black darkness, strangely disquieting and disembodied noises placelessly marching inexorably around us, the noises becoming ever more disjointed, sinister, oppressive and insistent. Eventually we are called back to wakefulness by the blissful sound of coruscating bells, luring us away from the dark regions and into light, the soothing light of day that dispels all ghosts and ghoulies and denizens of night.
Finally we have Lovers Breath, a series of disjointed field recordings, of the mournful cries of seagulls, water bubbling and flowing, a kettle coming to the boil, atmospheric noises recorded in an echoey hallway somewhere, a shimmering bell from a timepiece perhaps and waves lapping upon a shore perhaps all redolent of leavings and meetings, of sorrowful farewells between lovers, of separations over long distances, where the only connections are the psychic feelings between two hearts and late night whispered phone-calls.
This is cerebral music, no doubt about that, but I have to admit that on this occasion I failed to connect with this perhaps part of the blame for that lies simply in the fact that being disconnected from the film it was created to accompany I failed to completely empathise and get into it; in some sense then I felt as if I was missing half the package and consequently not receiving the complete picture. Of its kind I would say that its a good example, well recorded and expertly constructed, and well packaged. I think, however, despite my lack of empathy while reviewing this on this particular occasion I deem that it would bear a few more listens in order for me to explore its subtleties and textures more deeply. Also, I think it would be nice to listen to whilst watching the visual component maybe then it would make even more sense." [Simon Marshall-Jones, Heathen Harvest]