Boomkat Product Review:
On yet another stunning number from Unseen Worlds, Carsten Schulz aka C-Schulz arrives in the wake of their incredible reissues of Carl Stone and Laurie Spiegel records with a mind-bending batch from the fecund experimental nexus of ‘90s Cologne.
With C-Schulz releases scattered between Frank Dommert’s Entenpfuhl label - where he debuted in the same year as Jim O’Rourke - and the likes of Schimpfluch, Extreme and MoM’s Sonig - including many alongside probing input from Markus Schmickler - it’s maybe fair to say that C-Schulz’s distinctive oeuvre and artists genius has been sorely overlooked, until now, that is.
Frühe Jahre contains 20 wildly diverse examples of C-Schulz’s genre-agnostic agenda drawn from the early phase of his small, but arguably perfectly formed, catalogue between 1989 and 1991-ish, documenting an artist who patently dared to go beyond his classical training and explore new frontiers between early techno and acousmatic music, industrial and avant-pop, with something approaching a savant appreciation of juxtaposition and stylistic innovation.
He would later study A/V arts and work for a number of German broadcasters, but it’s worth bearing in mind that Schulz had barely turned 20 by the time Frank Dommert released his debut, Jahre Später, which provides one of this set’s highlights in the psychedelic horror collage of Wir beide sind verwandt, and sets the tone for a wildly, widely inventive overview of his variegated work.
There’s slow-mo New Beat-type sleaze in Barbapapa, along with hi-NRG disco scrabble in Kurze Flitze and industrial swagger on Meister, but just the tip of a large, oddly shaped iceberg, which reaches right down to the warped drone feedback works of Borkup and some messed-up vocoder psychoacoustics in Tri-Top, plus a few canny twists on space age lounge music in Klang and Reis recalling some kinda NWW cut-ups, and head-curdling drone of Himaal.
You could hardly ask for a madder wormhole to fall into. Check without delay!