Norwegian percussionist Hans Hulbækmo uses an expanded drum kit to express his passion for Dadaism, free improv and Norwegian folk music on his debut album, spiking his innovative rhythms with kalimba, cheap keyboard vamps and shruti drones. One for fans of Chris Corsano, Thomas Strønen, Milford Graves or Han Bennink.
Hulbækmo begins 'Tilfeldig Næpe' (hardly random) with its least percussive track. 'Sennep' (mustard) is a wiry folk ditty constructed with a Casio keyboard and accordion; there are drums if you search hard (a tambourine and tom, to be exact), but it's a suitably wacky fake-out before 'Han', a barrage of woody, Chinese-inspired drumming that fractures into Graves-style improv at the halfway point. A prolific drummer who's played in a host of outfits, including Moskus, Flukten, Atomic and Broen, Hulbækmo grew up surrounded by music: both his mother and father were Norwegian folk players. But his interest in sound and rhythm stretches far beyond the borders of his home country, and each track appears to absorb a different influence.
On 'Dikt til Bill' (poems for Bill), glassy, granulated rhythms slowly cede to slow, melancholy piano notes that eventually reveal a ghostly, indistinct voice, singing casually in the distance. And 'Nervierne' (the nerves) is completely different, foregrounding a tinny electronic organ before haphazard jazzy trills attempt to provide an accompaniment. The drum set is absent completely on 'Klatrebaronen' (the climbing baron), replaced by a cheap preset beat that Hulbækmo plays fiddle to. But he's most confident when he's throwing sticks on skins, exploding with energy on the frantic 'Autotelisk' and accenting an almost inaudible beatbox waltz with metallic clanks and cracks on 'Hans Olo'. Constantly mutating and subverting expectations, 'Tilfeldig Næpe' is an album that truly deserves the Dada label - fans of Han Bennink, don't sleep.
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Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Norwegian percussionist Hans Hulbækmo uses an expanded drum kit to express his passion for Dadaism, free improv and Norwegian folk music on his debut album, spiking his innovative rhythms with kalimba, cheap keyboard vamps and shruti drones. One for fans of Chris Corsano, Thomas Strønen, Milford Graves or Han Bennink.
Hulbækmo begins 'Tilfeldig Næpe' (hardly random) with its least percussive track. 'Sennep' (mustard) is a wiry folk ditty constructed with a Casio keyboard and accordion; there are drums if you search hard (a tambourine and tom, to be exact), but it's a suitably wacky fake-out before 'Han', a barrage of woody, Chinese-inspired drumming that fractures into Graves-style improv at the halfway point. A prolific drummer who's played in a host of outfits, including Moskus, Flukten, Atomic and Broen, Hulbækmo grew up surrounded by music: both his mother and father were Norwegian folk players. But his interest in sound and rhythm stretches far beyond the borders of his home country, and each track appears to absorb a different influence.
On 'Dikt til Bill' (poems for Bill), glassy, granulated rhythms slowly cede to slow, melancholy piano notes that eventually reveal a ghostly, indistinct voice, singing casually in the distance. And 'Nervierne' (the nerves) is completely different, foregrounding a tinny electronic organ before haphazard jazzy trills attempt to provide an accompaniment. The drum set is absent completely on 'Klatrebaronen' (the climbing baron), replaced by a cheap preset beat that Hulbækmo plays fiddle to. But he's most confident when he's throwing sticks on skins, exploding with energy on the frantic 'Autotelisk' and accenting an almost inaudible beatbox waltz with metallic clanks and cracks on 'Hans Olo'. Constantly mutating and subverting expectations, 'Tilfeldig Næpe' is an album that truly deserves the Dada label - fans of Han Bennink, don't sleep.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Norwegian percussionist Hans Hulbækmo uses an expanded drum kit to express his passion for Dadaism, free improv and Norwegian folk music on his debut album, spiking his innovative rhythms with kalimba, cheap keyboard vamps and shruti drones. One for fans of Chris Corsano, Thomas Strønen, Milford Graves or Han Bennink.
Hulbækmo begins 'Tilfeldig Næpe' (hardly random) with its least percussive track. 'Sennep' (mustard) is a wiry folk ditty constructed with a Casio keyboard and accordion; there are drums if you search hard (a tambourine and tom, to be exact), but it's a suitably wacky fake-out before 'Han', a barrage of woody, Chinese-inspired drumming that fractures into Graves-style improv at the halfway point. A prolific drummer who's played in a host of outfits, including Moskus, Flukten, Atomic and Broen, Hulbækmo grew up surrounded by music: both his mother and father were Norwegian folk players. But his interest in sound and rhythm stretches far beyond the borders of his home country, and each track appears to absorb a different influence.
On 'Dikt til Bill' (poems for Bill), glassy, granulated rhythms slowly cede to slow, melancholy piano notes that eventually reveal a ghostly, indistinct voice, singing casually in the distance. And 'Nervierne' (the nerves) is completely different, foregrounding a tinny electronic organ before haphazard jazzy trills attempt to provide an accompaniment. The drum set is absent completely on 'Klatrebaronen' (the climbing baron), replaced by a cheap preset beat that Hulbækmo plays fiddle to. But he's most confident when he's throwing sticks on skins, exploding with energy on the frantic 'Autotelisk' and accenting an almost inaudible beatbox waltz with metallic clanks and cracks on 'Hans Olo'. Constantly mutating and subverting expectations, 'Tilfeldig Næpe' is an album that truly deserves the Dada label - fans of Han Bennink, don't sleep.