in briefrelease
11.09

A Strange Instrument, a Familiar Sound

Mike Sheridan: «Touch«
© André Hansen
© André Hansen

There is something almost dogmatic about Mike Sheridan’s latest album, Touch. Everything leads back to the Cristal Baschet – a peculiar instrument from the 1950s in which sound is produced by running wet fingers over glass rods, setting metal resonators into vibration. No strings, no keys, just glass, water, skin and friction, slowly making the metal sing.

The Cristal Baschet is not merely an instrument on Touch. It is the album cover, the subject of the press photos, and almost the very argument for the album’s existence.

It recalls the material fetishism found in the American duo Matmos, whose music is often built around a single material or sound source: metal on Metallic Life Review (2025), plastic on Plastic Anniversary (2019), a washing machine on Ultimate Care II (2016). What is interesting about such constraints is that they ought to force the music somewhere it otherwise might not be able to go.

While listening to Touch, a question therefore begins to press itself forward: Which of these sounds could not have existed without a Cristal Baschet?

There are glassy tones that hang in the air and slowly change texture. Thin, cutting vibrations. Metallic surfaces that flutter, ripple, open and close. A constant sense of droning resonance; of something vibrating just on the other side of the audible.

Sheridan’s layering is meticulous. There is a precision to the mix, an almost surgical sense of the distance between the different textures. The best moments occur when the surface is disturbed: something that scratches at or short-circuits the otherwise tightly controlled resonance. On »BOW / GROUND«, for instance, deep bass pulses suddenly enter, creating a different physical quality – crackling, heavy, like something hitting the floor.

But Touch is first and foremost a well-produced ambient album. It moves through different degrees of the same state, changing nuance without ever truly changing its skin. That is not necessarily a weakness. There is something consistent, almost meditative, in Sheridan’s insistence. But the longer one remains in the same sonic state, the more one begins to miss what ought to be the Cristal Baschet’s particular possibility.

This is where the disappointment lies: in the gap between the instrument’s strangeness and the music’s conventional appearance. The sounds have been assimilated into a familiar ambient vocabulary, where the extraordinary instrument ends up producing something surprisingly familiar. You can hear that something unusual is happening at the source of the sound. But you cannot necessarily hear why it had to be this particular instrument. Had one not been told that a rare, almost otherworldly acoustic sculpture was standing in the room, one would hardly have guessed it.

in brieflive
07.04

PowerPoint Against the Dark

Laurie Anderson with Sexmob: »Republic of Love«
© Ebru Yildiz
© Ebru Yildiz

With her characteristic curiosity, Laurie Anderson opened Sunday’s concert in DR’s concert hall with a political statement and the remark, »Thank you for your attention to this matter.« The theme of the evening was a heavy political climate, to which Anderson – like a professor emerita of the avant-garde – offered a musical framing narrative of music, slideshow, and quotes from thinkers and artists who, each in their own way, nuance an increasingly dark world. A framework in which every piece of music had a clear purpose: to evaporate any residue of convention.

Slide by slide, the audience was guided through curious glimpses of the totalitarian and the conventional. The long list of words deleted from government documents by the Trump administration, for instance, served as an introduction to »Language Is a Virus«, inspired by writer William Burroughs, who also appeared on the screen behind Anderson and the band Sexmob. So did Lou Reed, Anderson’s late husband. Dressed in a glittering jacket that, like a kind of magical Kraftwerk, triggered sounds of drums, foghorns, and cash registers, Anderson shared the couple’s three life lessons while playfully dancing and narrating.

I don’t think I’ve ever attended a concert where the entire production team – both on and off stage – was credited with rolling end titles. Yet it felt like a completely natural conclusion to Anderson’s slightly dry and remarkably hopeful PowerPoint concert. A performance that, as a delightfully deconstructive reminder, united the experimental and the concrete in a hands-on first aid kit against tyranny and oppression.

© Peter Gannushkin

»Music for me is a world full of sound that you can explore, juggle with, systematize, be inspired by and form a starting point for meetings between people across cultures and generations.«  

Håkon Berre (b. 1980) has made his mark as a central figure on the Danish improvised music scene. His practice is characterized by an expanded approach to percussion, where both traditional instruments and everyday objects – such as doorbells, tin plates, chains and kitchen utensils – are included in a nuanced and often unpredictable sonic expression. He has performed at clubs and festivals internationally and collaborated with a wide range of notable musicians, including Peter Brötzmann, Phil Minton, Axel Dörner, John Tchicai, Jamie Branch and Otomo Yoshihide. Berre contributes to an extensive discography with more than 40 releases, many of which on the artist-run label Barefoot Records, which he co-founded. He has also composed and arranged music for theatre and exhibitions, and worked on interactive sound installations shown in museums in Denmark and Germany. He is active in a number of ensembles and collaborations, including Ytterlandet, TEETH, VÍÍK and Mirror Matter, as well as in various duo and quartet constellations.

© Niklas Ottander

»Music is a deep, but not serious, spiritual practice, in which creator, collaborator, and consumer alike are their own personal pope.«

James Black (b. 1990) is a composer, performer, and artistic director of Klang Festival – Copenhagen Experimental Music. Originally from Bristol, England, they moved to Copenhagen in 2013. Black's works have attracted a large amount of attention both nationally and internationally for their signature combination of artistic courage and vulnerability, described by the Danish Arts Council as »a universe of real madness where everything goes«. Their work is a deep and personal exploration of topics such as religion, loss, and queer identity, that is unafraid to be stupid or serious in any direction.

© Christian Klintholm

»Music is just something for me.«

Christian Juncker is a Danish musician and songwriter who has released a number of Danish-language albums. He debuted in 1995 with the band Bloom. Together with his friend Jakob Groth Bastiansen, he formed the duo Juncker in 2002. He is also behind the Christmas carol »Luk julefreden ind« from 2024.

© Guy Wasserman

»Music, for me, reveals the emptiness of boundaries and definitions – in consciousness, in space, and in music itself.«

Idan Elmalem is an oud player and composer working across world and popular music, now presenting his debut instrumental EP and live performance project. Following years of collaboration within the Israeli music scene, he turns toward a more personal and intimate musical voice, blending traditional oud with a contemporary sensibility. Influenced by his studies with master Nissim Dakwar, Elmalem’s music explores the space between tradition and innovation. His debut EP, Time, features three live-recorded pieces that move between past, present, and future, combining classical Arabic and Persian elements with jazz, minimalism, and cinematic sound. Based in Tel Aviv, Elmalem draws on his Moroccan-Danish heritage in his work. He is a graduate of the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance and is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Ethnomusicology at the University of Haifa, alongside his work as a player and composer.