in briefrelease
11.03.2024

Lækkert …og lidt kedeligt

Olof Dreijer: »Coral«
© PR
© PR

Jeg måtte lige tjekke kalenderen: var jeg blevet transporteret tilbage til år 2006? Klangen på »Coral«, titelnummeret på den nye EP fra Olof Dreijer, lyder nemlig meget som lyden af Dreijers gamle familieband The Knifes Silent Shout-album. Kolde fm-klange, der lige nøjagtigt har nok bevægelse i sine overtoner til, at de bliver dejligt interessante at fordybe sig i. De kolde synthesizere varmes dog dog hurtigt op i mødet med latinamerikanske klokker, der sammen med en brølende bas ændrer nummerets fokus fra klang til hoftevrik. 

Det er ikke noget nyt greb at sætte funktionelt dansemusik i møde med et tæppe af omgivelsesmusik. Wolfgang Voights GAS-projekt har excelleret i at vise, hvad der sker, når et klangtæppe møder en puls, man kan danse til, og danske Kasper Marott har omvendt vist, hvor meget man kan variere et housenummer ved at kombinere det med feltoptagelser af lydmiljøer. 

Desværre bliver Coral en smule blodfattig. Klokkernes claver når aldrig helt op i den polyrytmiske intensitet, som man kender det fra eksempelvis samba, og de omgivende lyde virker halvbagte. Det er synd, for den støjende kakofoni, der findes i eksempelvis samba, havde været et oplagt klangmateriale at bearbejde, for Dreijer er virkelig dygtig til at bearbejde lyd. Det hele lyder lækkert.

EP'ens resterende to numre er skabt med præpareret klaver og fuglefløjter. Her viser Dreijer sig som en dygtig musiker, der får lavet nogle virkelig flotte gestikulationer med klaveret, som lyder meget mildt af et præpareret klaver at være. Fløjterne er også et godt valg, fordi de giver en spøjs halvnaturlig klang, der smukt tegner et rum op. Men det lyder også bare som en boullionterning af virkelig meget ambientmusik, man har hørt før. 

© PR

»To us, music is a primal, elemental force that allows us to shed our inhibitions.«

Leizure is a Copenhagen-based quintet operating at the intersection of post-punk, no wave, and experimental rock. The band’s sound is characterized by atonal vocals, piercing saxophone, hypnotic guitar riffs, and a rhythmic foundation that oscillates between tight precision and raw intensity. 

The band’s upcoming album, The Guillotine, explores themes such as societal decay, upheaval, and the challenging of established structures – all conveyed through a direct and high-energy musical style.

© Robin Skjoldborg
© Robin Skjoldborg

Danish musician, author, and artist Martin Hall has died at the age of 63. According to his family, he passed away from a heart attack at his home in Frederiksberg on Tuesday, 21 July.

Since the early 1980s, Hall left an indelible mark on Danish music and cultural life – first with Ballet Mécanique and Under For, and later through an extensive solo career that moved effortlessly between experimental music, electronic pop, poetry, performance, and literature. He leaves behind one of the most substantial discographies and bibliographies in Danish cultural history.

© Kåre Viemose
© Kåre Viemose

Seismograf is heading off on summer break to check out the ocean's deep vibrations.  🌊🤿  See you in August. Have a great summer!

in brieflive
15.07

Noise in the White Cube

Aros: »Unruly – the Body in Punk«
© Karen Knorr & Olivier Richon, Vortex 6 from the Punks series, 1976 - 1977, gelatin silver print on paper,18,7 x 28,2 cm, Tate. Courtesy of the artists.
© Karen Knorr & Olivier Richon, Vortex 6 from the Punks series, 1976 - 1977, gelatin silver print on paper,18,7 x 28,2 cm, Tate. Courtesy of the artists.

The first thing that hits you at Aros' Unruly – the Body in Punk isn't dog collars, leather jackets or fishnet stockings. It's the sound. It rumbles through the galleries. After all, what is punk doing in a museum? Punk was never made for museums. It's dirty, loud and ephemeral. It thrives on amateurism, mistakes and resistance. One might fear that the white cube would turn three-chord fury into cultural history and noise into background music. Curator Marie Arleth Skov has created an exhibition in which sound doesn't merely illustrate history – it propels it. Raw guitars, piercing saxophones, flickering Super 8 films and concert footage merge into a rush of noise, images and bodies.

Unruly is not a comprehensive history of punk but a sharply focused snapshot of a culture in which sound and the body were inseparable. Punk's godmothers appear alongside Danish bands such as Lost Kids, Pussy Punk and Sods in previously unseen footage from a legendary punk happening in Copenhagen. A leather drum kit by Käthe Kruse of Die Tödliche Doris stands as a sculpture bearing the dry title In Leder, while Cornelia Schleime's video reveals the vulnerability and poetry that also inhabited punk rebellion. The contrast with Erik Satie's stripped-back piano music is exquisite. Walking through the exhibition feels like stepping inside a three-dimensional fanzine. Everywhere, it celebrates misfits and those who never asked for permission. Leopard-print cushions, raw materials and tactile installations make you feel as if you could almost touch punk itself.

In art museums, sound is often reduced to atmosphere. Here, it becomes a material on equal footing with fabric, video and the body. Noise is treated as an artistic method rather than a soundtrack. Fifty-year-old noise still sounds astonishingly contemporary as it resonates with the exhibition's newer works. You feel it vibrating through your body. Instead of muting the world, the museum becomes an amplifier.

Can rebellion survive inside a museum? Unruly shows that punk's energy does not necessarily disappear when it enters an institution. Only two things are missing: the chance to experience the exhibition at four o'clock in the morning – and a lavish catalogue bound in latex.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© PR

»For us, music is the companion that stays with you through life’s highs, lows, benders, and shitty times. There isn’t a single emotion for which we don’t each have an internal soundtrack. It’s a wonderful, universal thing that music triggers moods and reinforces feelings.«

Barcode played a couple of hundred shows across Europe in the 90s and 2000s – touring with acts like Madball, Agnostic Front, and Hatebreed – and released five full-length albums. The Aarhus-based band will play its first concert in 18 years as the headliner at the Support Our Scene festival in Fredericia this August.