The World Before Commercialism
Hot on the heels of his NSI survey with NAKID, pivotal Berlin producer Tobias Freund shifts the archival crosshair from his work circa Hypnobeat 1984-88, to the years ’88-’91 with a batch of strange artefacts.
From new wave to minimal house, Tobias Freund’s name has marbled the history of contemporary German electronic music for over a generation. With ‘The World Before Commercialism’ he excavates a dozen unreleased archival cuts produced as Pink Elln, produced during his years in Frankfurt am Main, prior to moving to Berlin. Secreted onto a recently released DAT recorder, they depict him dabbling with the Akai S-950, the Casio CZ-101 and the Roland TR 808, and a Roland MC-500 as sequencer.
Peppered with his own sampled voice, as well as those of Rather Interesting affiliates Dandy Jack and Esther Kowallek, the cuts are decidedly odd wee morsels of studio experimentation that don’t fall cleanly into any category, but do betray the rhythmic impetus that would see him blossom among minimal techno’s greats in the following years.
Between the weightless structures of ‘Spin’, threaded with orchestral flash stabs and icy keys, and the chattering serialism of ‘Kräuterpiano’, we discover eerie horror music sensations recalling Coil’s unused Hellraiser score in ‘103 Anger’, and clipped electro strut on ‘Ein Spiel’, next to the cotton candy electronica prototype of ‘Kisses to Berlin’, and cuboid Hypnobeat styles in ‘Cycle 8’ and ‘Fish and Island’, plus a wicked lick of computerised dancehall on ‘Xenose’ adjacent his future collaborator Max Loderbauer’s work on Fischerman’s Friend with Thomas Fehlmann, and more introspective ambient akin Konrad Kraft or MAAT in ‘What’s That?’.
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Hot on the heels of his NSI survey with NAKID, pivotal Berlin producer Tobias Freund shifts the archival crosshair from his work circa Hypnobeat 1984-88, to the years ’88-’91 with a batch of strange artefacts.
From new wave to minimal house, Tobias Freund’s name has marbled the history of contemporary German electronic music for over a generation. With ‘The World Before Commercialism’ he excavates a dozen unreleased archival cuts produced as Pink Elln, produced during his years in Frankfurt am Main, prior to moving to Berlin. Secreted onto a recently released DAT recorder, they depict him dabbling with the Akai S-950, the Casio CZ-101 and the Roland TR 808, and a Roland MC-500 as sequencer.
Peppered with his own sampled voice, as well as those of Rather Interesting affiliates Dandy Jack and Esther Kowallek, the cuts are decidedly odd wee morsels of studio experimentation that don’t fall cleanly into any category, but do betray the rhythmic impetus that would see him blossom among minimal techno’s greats in the following years.
Between the weightless structures of ‘Spin’, threaded with orchestral flash stabs and icy keys, and the chattering serialism of ‘Kräuterpiano’, we discover eerie horror music sensations recalling Coil’s unused Hellraiser score in ‘103 Anger’, and clipped electro strut on ‘Ein Spiel’, next to the cotton candy electronica prototype of ‘Kisses to Berlin’, and cuboid Hypnobeat styles in ‘Cycle 8’ and ‘Fish and Island’, plus a wicked lick of computerised dancehall on ‘Xenose’ adjacent his future collaborator Max Loderbauer’s work on Fischerman’s Friend with Thomas Fehlmann, and more introspective ambient akin Konrad Kraft or MAAT in ‘What’s That?’.
Hot on the heels of his NSI survey with NAKID, pivotal Berlin producer Tobias Freund shifts the archival crosshair from his work circa Hypnobeat 1984-88, to the years ’88-’91 with a batch of strange artefacts.
From new wave to minimal house, Tobias Freund’s name has marbled the history of contemporary German electronic music for over a generation. With ‘The World Before Commercialism’ he excavates a dozen unreleased archival cuts produced as Pink Elln, produced during his years in Frankfurt am Main, prior to moving to Berlin. Secreted onto a recently released DAT recorder, they depict him dabbling with the Akai S-950, the Casio CZ-101 and the Roland TR 808, and a Roland MC-500 as sequencer.
Peppered with his own sampled voice, as well as those of Rather Interesting affiliates Dandy Jack and Esther Kowallek, the cuts are decidedly odd wee morsels of studio experimentation that don’t fall cleanly into any category, but do betray the rhythmic impetus that would see him blossom among minimal techno’s greats in the following years.
Between the weightless structures of ‘Spin’, threaded with orchestral flash stabs and icy keys, and the chattering serialism of ‘Kräuterpiano’, we discover eerie horror music sensations recalling Coil’s unused Hellraiser score in ‘103 Anger’, and clipped electro strut on ‘Ein Spiel’, next to the cotton candy electronica prototype of ‘Kisses to Berlin’, and cuboid Hypnobeat styles in ‘Cycle 8’ and ‘Fish and Island’, plus a wicked lick of computerised dancehall on ‘Xenose’ adjacent his future collaborator Max Loderbauer’s work on Fischerman’s Friend with Thomas Fehlmann, and more introspective ambient akin Konrad Kraft or MAAT in ‘What’s That?’.
Hot on the heels of his NSI survey with NAKID, pivotal Berlin producer Tobias Freund shifts the archival crosshair from his work circa Hypnobeat 1984-88, to the years ’88-’91 with a batch of strange artefacts.
From new wave to minimal house, Tobias Freund’s name has marbled the history of contemporary German electronic music for over a generation. With ‘The World Before Commercialism’ he excavates a dozen unreleased archival cuts produced as Pink Elln, produced during his years in Frankfurt am Main, prior to moving to Berlin. Secreted onto a recently released DAT recorder, they depict him dabbling with the Akai S-950, the Casio CZ-101 and the Roland TR 808, and a Roland MC-500 as sequencer.
Peppered with his own sampled voice, as well as those of Rather Interesting affiliates Dandy Jack and Esther Kowallek, the cuts are decidedly odd wee morsels of studio experimentation that don’t fall cleanly into any category, but do betray the rhythmic impetus that would see him blossom among minimal techno’s greats in the following years.
Between the weightless structures of ‘Spin’, threaded with orchestral flash stabs and icy keys, and the chattering serialism of ‘Kräuterpiano’, we discover eerie horror music sensations recalling Coil’s unused Hellraiser score in ‘103 Anger’, and clipped electro strut on ‘Ein Spiel’, next to the cotton candy electronica prototype of ‘Kisses to Berlin’, and cuboid Hypnobeat styles in ‘Cycle 8’ and ‘Fish and Island’, plus a wicked lick of computerised dancehall on ‘Xenose’ adjacent his future collaborator Max Loderbauer’s work on Fischerman’s Friend with Thomas Fehlmann, and more introspective ambient akin Konrad Kraft or MAAT in ‘What’s That?’.