Boomkat Product Review:
C. Schulz’s bewilderingly diverse sophomore LP 10. Hose Horn  is given the prime reissue treatment by Unseen Worlds to accompany their excellent Frühe Jahre compilation, the first retrospective of one of Cologne’s freakiest, sorely overlooked artists - and his pal Marcus Schmickler.
Plugging a vital gap in our knowledge of this era, at the cusp of the ‘90s when the kosmiche/krautrock spirit had long jumped the shark and the rest of Europe was in thrall to house, rave and hip hop, 10. Hose Horn offers an idiosyncratic perspective of experimental music at that time which, strangely enough, still sounds out of place and time over 25 years later.
Faithfully represented in its entirety, 10. Hose Horn documents the tape cut-ups and frazzled electronics of a young artist steeped in knowledge of avant-garde cinema (his girlfriend’s parents were experimental German film pioneers, he spent a lot of time at their house) and 20th century arts movements such as Dada, which all strongly informed the techniques and synaesthetic short-circuiting edits of his sound.
On the A-side you’ll find an extended piece of tape loops overlaid with squabbly electronics, field recordings and symphonic swells that pre-echo the likes of Fenn O’Berg in Reis, whereas Meister finds him meshing a big industrial swingbeat with crowd noise and vocals recalling Liaisons Dangereuses. Conversely, the B-side sounds like someone with an internet time machine in 1991, scrolling thru ten shorter segments of collaged news reports, muzak and Goodiepal-like avant-folk song, with some ace touches of chugging cosmic and and hi-NRG disco.
That might sound like a mess on paper, but it’s a playfully compelling thing on record. Proper screwball antics belied by a real sense of genius.