What You Hear (Is What You Hear)
Arch techno-conceptualist Thomas Brinkmann presents his most intriguing solo outing yet with the abstract sound structures of 'What You Hear (Is What You Hear)' for Editions Mego. In an attempt to detach himself and his art from any concrete descriptors and also camouflage the intent behind these tracks, Brinkmann offers a greyscale of electronic fundamentals largely devoid of his patented minimalist rhythm trickery or discernible melody, allowing the music to do the talking and make us poor sods work harder to describe what he's doing. Thing is, he just kinda gave it all away with his dedication to Polish composer Zbigniew Karkowski R.I.P., whose catalogue of ascetically focussed, stripped down and (im)purist compositions make the best analogy for this body work (well, I suppose that only works if you're familiar with his output, though). What we are left with is an oblique set of constructions, ranging from keening drone pieces to self-perpetuating and repetitive mechanical rhythms and quietly heart-in-mouth ambient sections, with a lash of sculpted guitar (?) feedback to close. Ultimately, it's a pointed comment on the way that we consume and appreciate music, and are influenced by its literal presentation, but also functions boldly as an visceral sonic statement that requires no conceptual baggage to be felt and understood. Highly recommended!
View more
Arch techno-conceptualist Thomas Brinkmann presents his most intriguing solo outing yet with the abstract sound structures of 'What You Hear (Is What You Hear)' for Editions Mego. In an attempt to detach himself and his art from any concrete descriptors and also camouflage the intent behind these tracks, Brinkmann offers a greyscale of electronic fundamentals largely devoid of his patented minimalist rhythm trickery or discernible melody, allowing the music to do the talking and make us poor sods work harder to describe what he's doing. Thing is, he just kinda gave it all away with his dedication to Polish composer Zbigniew Karkowski R.I.P., whose catalogue of ascetically focussed, stripped down and (im)purist compositions make the best analogy for this body work (well, I suppose that only works if you're familiar with his output, though). What we are left with is an oblique set of constructions, ranging from keening drone pieces to self-perpetuating and repetitive mechanical rhythms and quietly heart-in-mouth ambient sections, with a lash of sculpted guitar (?) feedback to close. Ultimately, it's a pointed comment on the way that we consume and appreciate music, and are influenced by its literal presentation, but also functions boldly as an visceral sonic statement that requires no conceptual baggage to be felt and understood. Highly recommended!
Arch techno-conceptualist Thomas Brinkmann presents his most intriguing solo outing yet with the abstract sound structures of 'What You Hear (Is What You Hear)' for Editions Mego. In an attempt to detach himself and his art from any concrete descriptors and also camouflage the intent behind these tracks, Brinkmann offers a greyscale of electronic fundamentals largely devoid of his patented minimalist rhythm trickery or discernible melody, allowing the music to do the talking and make us poor sods work harder to describe what he's doing. Thing is, he just kinda gave it all away with his dedication to Polish composer Zbigniew Karkowski R.I.P., whose catalogue of ascetically focussed, stripped down and (im)purist compositions make the best analogy for this body work (well, I suppose that only works if you're familiar with his output, though). What we are left with is an oblique set of constructions, ranging from keening drone pieces to self-perpetuating and repetitive mechanical rhythms and quietly heart-in-mouth ambient sections, with a lash of sculpted guitar (?) feedback to close. Ultimately, it's a pointed comment on the way that we consume and appreciate music, and are influenced by its literal presentation, but also functions boldly as an visceral sonic statement that requires no conceptual baggage to be felt and understood. Highly recommended!
Out of Stock
Arch techno-conceptualist Thomas Brinkmann presents his most intriguing solo outing yet with the abstract sound structures of 'What You Hear (Is What You Hear)' for Editions Mego. In an attempt to detach himself and his art from any concrete descriptors and also camouflage the intent behind these tracks, Brinkmann offers a greyscale of electronic fundamentals largely devoid of his patented minimalist rhythm trickery or discernible melody, allowing the music to do the talking and make us poor sods work harder to describe what he's doing. Thing is, he just kinda gave it all away with his dedication to Polish composer Zbigniew Karkowski R.I.P., whose catalogue of ascetically focussed, stripped down and (im)purist compositions make the best analogy for this body work (well, I suppose that only works if you're familiar with his output, though). What we are left with is an oblique set of constructions, ranging from keening drone pieces to self-perpetuating and repetitive mechanical rhythms and quietly heart-in-mouth ambient sections, with a lash of sculpted guitar (?) feedback to close. Ultimately, it's a pointed comment on the way that we consume and appreciate music, and are influenced by its literal presentation, but also functions boldly as an visceral sonic statement that requires no conceptual baggage to be felt and understood. Highly recommended!
Out of Stock
Arch techno-conceptualist Thomas Brinkmann presents his most intriguing solo outing yet with the abstract sound structures of 'What You Hear (Is What You Hear)' for Editions Mego. In an attempt to detach himself and his art from any concrete descriptors and also camouflage the intent behind these tracks, Brinkmann offers a greyscale of electronic fundamentals largely devoid of his patented minimalist rhythm trickery or discernible melody, allowing the music to do the talking and make us poor sods work harder to describe what he's doing. Thing is, he just kinda gave it all away with his dedication to Polish composer Zbigniew Karkowski R.I.P., whose catalogue of ascetically focussed, stripped down and (im)purist compositions make the best analogy for this body work (well, I suppose that only works if you're familiar with his output, though). What we are left with is an oblique set of constructions, ranging from keening drone pieces to self-perpetuating and repetitive mechanical rhythms and quietly heart-in-mouth ambient sections, with a lash of sculpted guitar (?) feedback to close. Ultimately, it's a pointed comment on the way that we consume and appreciate music, and are influenced by its literal presentation, but also functions boldly as an visceral sonic statement that requires no conceptual baggage to be felt and understood. Highly recommended!