Klara Lewis composes a heartfelt elegy to Peter Rehberg on 'Thankful', paying tribute to his canon and methodology with noisy, eccentric experiments that swerve from splattery acid techno to sincere acoustic abstraction..
It's fitting, somehow, that Lewis hinges her latest album around a deafening 20-minute interpolation of Rehberg's enduring 'Track 3', the stand-out track from his 1999 laptop-powered tour-de-force 'Get Out'. Rehberg's original mutilated a sampled loop, transforming its loping, romantic sadness into ear-bleeding feedback; Lewis doubles the length for her gentler requiem, taking her time to define its melancholy before barreling towards sheet noise in the third act. Then, in the spirit of Mego's earliest, battiest deployments, she flips the script with 'Ukulele 1', taking just over a minute to introduce an acoustic instrument and offset some of the bluster.
'Top', a nod to Rehberg's favorite word, is another on-brand departure that finds Lewis heading thru stage smoke to dive towards the furthest recesses of the dancefloor, curving blown-out, tempo-fluxed kicks and boxy thumps around squelchy, acidic synths that quickly spiral into fractal mayhem. We can't think of a better tribute to Rehberg than this, to be honest - and it's over just as soon as it's started, a fittingly cheeky middle finger to anyone who'd have the stones to try and shoehorn the track into a set. And after the weightless, meditative '4U', Lewis slips into long-form mode again for her conclusion, looping her ukulele twangs and drowning them in distortion to mirror the structure of the opening epic.
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Klara Lewis composes a heartfelt elegy to Peter Rehberg on 'Thankful', paying tribute to his canon and methodology with noisy, eccentric experiments that swerve from splattery acid techno to sincere acoustic abstraction..
It's fitting, somehow, that Lewis hinges her latest album around a deafening 20-minute interpolation of Rehberg's enduring 'Track 3', the stand-out track from his 1999 laptop-powered tour-de-force 'Get Out'. Rehberg's original mutilated a sampled loop, transforming its loping, romantic sadness into ear-bleeding feedback; Lewis doubles the length for her gentler requiem, taking her time to define its melancholy before barreling towards sheet noise in the third act. Then, in the spirit of Mego's earliest, battiest deployments, she flips the script with 'Ukulele 1', taking just over a minute to introduce an acoustic instrument and offset some of the bluster.
'Top', a nod to Rehberg's favorite word, is another on-brand departure that finds Lewis heading thru stage smoke to dive towards the furthest recesses of the dancefloor, curving blown-out, tempo-fluxed kicks and boxy thumps around squelchy, acidic synths that quickly spiral into fractal mayhem. We can't think of a better tribute to Rehberg than this, to be honest - and it's over just as soon as it's started, a fittingly cheeky middle finger to anyone who'd have the stones to try and shoehorn the track into a set. And after the weightless, meditative '4U', Lewis slips into long-form mode again for her conclusion, looping her ukulele twangs and drowning them in distortion to mirror the structure of the opening epic.
Klara Lewis composes a heartfelt elegy to Peter Rehberg on 'Thankful', paying tribute to his canon and methodology with noisy, eccentric experiments that swerve from splattery acid techno to sincere acoustic abstraction..
It's fitting, somehow, that Lewis hinges her latest album around a deafening 20-minute interpolation of Rehberg's enduring 'Track 3', the stand-out track from his 1999 laptop-powered tour-de-force 'Get Out'. Rehberg's original mutilated a sampled loop, transforming its loping, romantic sadness into ear-bleeding feedback; Lewis doubles the length for her gentler requiem, taking her time to define its melancholy before barreling towards sheet noise in the third act. Then, in the spirit of Mego's earliest, battiest deployments, she flips the script with 'Ukulele 1', taking just over a minute to introduce an acoustic instrument and offset some of the bluster.
'Top', a nod to Rehberg's favorite word, is another on-brand departure that finds Lewis heading thru stage smoke to dive towards the furthest recesses of the dancefloor, curving blown-out, tempo-fluxed kicks and boxy thumps around squelchy, acidic synths that quickly spiral into fractal mayhem. We can't think of a better tribute to Rehberg than this, to be honest - and it's over just as soon as it's started, a fittingly cheeky middle finger to anyone who'd have the stones to try and shoehorn the track into a set. And after the weightless, meditative '4U', Lewis slips into long-form mode again for her conclusion, looping her ukulele twangs and drowning them in distortion to mirror the structure of the opening epic.
Klara Lewis composes a heartfelt elegy to Peter Rehberg on 'Thankful', paying tribute to his canon and methodology with noisy, eccentric experiments that swerve from splattery acid techno to sincere acoustic abstraction..
It's fitting, somehow, that Lewis hinges her latest album around a deafening 20-minute interpolation of Rehberg's enduring 'Track 3', the stand-out track from his 1999 laptop-powered tour-de-force 'Get Out'. Rehberg's original mutilated a sampled loop, transforming its loping, romantic sadness into ear-bleeding feedback; Lewis doubles the length for her gentler requiem, taking her time to define its melancholy before barreling towards sheet noise in the third act. Then, in the spirit of Mego's earliest, battiest deployments, she flips the script with 'Ukulele 1', taking just over a minute to introduce an acoustic instrument and offset some of the bluster.
'Top', a nod to Rehberg's favorite word, is another on-brand departure that finds Lewis heading thru stage smoke to dive towards the furthest recesses of the dancefloor, curving blown-out, tempo-fluxed kicks and boxy thumps around squelchy, acidic synths that quickly spiral into fractal mayhem. We can't think of a better tribute to Rehberg than this, to be honest - and it's over just as soon as it's started, a fittingly cheeky middle finger to anyone who'd have the stones to try and shoehorn the track into a set. And after the weightless, meditative '4U', Lewis slips into long-form mode again for her conclusion, looping her ukulele twangs and drowning them in distortion to mirror the structure of the opening epic.
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Klara Lewis composes a heartfelt elegy to Peter Rehberg on 'Thankful', paying tribute to his canon and methodology with noisy, eccentric experiments that swerve from splattery acid techno to sincere acoustic abstraction..
It's fitting, somehow, that Lewis hinges her latest album around a deafening 20-minute interpolation of Rehberg's enduring 'Track 3', the stand-out track from his 1999 laptop-powered tour-de-force 'Get Out'. Rehberg's original mutilated a sampled loop, transforming its loping, romantic sadness into ear-bleeding feedback; Lewis doubles the length for her gentler requiem, taking her time to define its melancholy before barreling towards sheet noise in the third act. Then, in the spirit of Mego's earliest, battiest deployments, she flips the script with 'Ukulele 1', taking just over a minute to introduce an acoustic instrument and offset some of the bluster.
'Top', a nod to Rehberg's favorite word, is another on-brand departure that finds Lewis heading thru stage smoke to dive towards the furthest recesses of the dancefloor, curving blown-out, tempo-fluxed kicks and boxy thumps around squelchy, acidic synths that quickly spiral into fractal mayhem. We can't think of a better tribute to Rehberg than this, to be honest - and it's over just as soon as it's started, a fittingly cheeky middle finger to anyone who'd have the stones to try and shoehorn the track into a set. And after the weightless, meditative '4U', Lewis slips into long-form mode again for her conclusion, looping her ukulele twangs and drowning them in distortion to mirror the structure of the opening epic.