Swiss/German guitar duo An Moku & Schmidt wrest an impressive range of textured and resonant tones from their axes, as well as cello, field recordings and electronics, in a bleak one for Karlrecords.
Directly following from 2021’s ‘Raum’, the pair’s ‘Zwischenraum’ returns to a sort of liminal site of investigation for the 2nd of three instalments titled after a line from David Foster Wallace’s ‘Infinite Jest’. Drawing on longheld fascinations with improvisation and experimental soundscaping, Dominik Grenzler aka An Moku lives up to his Japanese moniker, meaning “tacit, unsaid, implicit”, bringing a shadowy, shapeshifting palette to Schmidt’s lifetime of experiments with punk and classical guitar which spill out on their hour of music inside.
Plumbing space somewhere between Fennesz and Rafael Toral, their music is sanguine, star-scanning by nature, focussing the vision from the viscous, cosmic raga whorls of ‘Yama’ to the granular shifts of ‘Sediment’ thru passages of reverberant atonalities and arcing harmonies in ‘Reflection’, to land on properly off world zones in the weightless roil of ‘Capgras Syndrome’, and sumptuous studies in subharmonic drone on ‘Tagundnachtgleiche’, gyring interstellar drama on ‘Rabennaas’, and a gorgeous sort of angelic guitar choral swaddled in softly pealing electronics in ‘Anywhere at the End of Time’.
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Swiss/German guitar duo An Moku & Schmidt wrest an impressive range of textured and resonant tones from their axes, as well as cello, field recordings and electronics, in a bleak one for Karlrecords.
Directly following from 2021’s ‘Raum’, the pair’s ‘Zwischenraum’ returns to a sort of liminal site of investigation for the 2nd of three instalments titled after a line from David Foster Wallace’s ‘Infinite Jest’. Drawing on longheld fascinations with improvisation and experimental soundscaping, Dominik Grenzler aka An Moku lives up to his Japanese moniker, meaning “tacit, unsaid, implicit”, bringing a shadowy, shapeshifting palette to Schmidt’s lifetime of experiments with punk and classical guitar which spill out on their hour of music inside.
Plumbing space somewhere between Fennesz and Rafael Toral, their music is sanguine, star-scanning by nature, focussing the vision from the viscous, cosmic raga whorls of ‘Yama’ to the granular shifts of ‘Sediment’ thru passages of reverberant atonalities and arcing harmonies in ‘Reflection’, to land on properly off world zones in the weightless roil of ‘Capgras Syndrome’, and sumptuous studies in subharmonic drone on ‘Tagundnachtgleiche’, gyring interstellar drama on ‘Rabennaas’, and a gorgeous sort of angelic guitar choral swaddled in softly pealing electronics in ‘Anywhere at the End of Time’.
Swiss/German guitar duo An Moku & Schmidt wrest an impressive range of textured and resonant tones from their axes, as well as cello, field recordings and electronics, in a bleak one for Karlrecords.
Directly following from 2021’s ‘Raum’, the pair’s ‘Zwischenraum’ returns to a sort of liminal site of investigation for the 2nd of three instalments titled after a line from David Foster Wallace’s ‘Infinite Jest’. Drawing on longheld fascinations with improvisation and experimental soundscaping, Dominik Grenzler aka An Moku lives up to his Japanese moniker, meaning “tacit, unsaid, implicit”, bringing a shadowy, shapeshifting palette to Schmidt’s lifetime of experiments with punk and classical guitar which spill out on their hour of music inside.
Plumbing space somewhere between Fennesz and Rafael Toral, their music is sanguine, star-scanning by nature, focussing the vision from the viscous, cosmic raga whorls of ‘Yama’ to the granular shifts of ‘Sediment’ thru passages of reverberant atonalities and arcing harmonies in ‘Reflection’, to land on properly off world zones in the weightless roil of ‘Capgras Syndrome’, and sumptuous studies in subharmonic drone on ‘Tagundnachtgleiche’, gyring interstellar drama on ‘Rabennaas’, and a gorgeous sort of angelic guitar choral swaddled in softly pealing electronics in ‘Anywhere at the End of Time’.
Swiss/German guitar duo An Moku & Schmidt wrest an impressive range of textured and resonant tones from their axes, as well as cello, field recordings and electronics, in a bleak one for Karlrecords.
Directly following from 2021’s ‘Raum’, the pair’s ‘Zwischenraum’ returns to a sort of liminal site of investigation for the 2nd of three instalments titled after a line from David Foster Wallace’s ‘Infinite Jest’. Drawing on longheld fascinations with improvisation and experimental soundscaping, Dominik Grenzler aka An Moku lives up to his Japanese moniker, meaning “tacit, unsaid, implicit”, bringing a shadowy, shapeshifting palette to Schmidt’s lifetime of experiments with punk and classical guitar which spill out on their hour of music inside.
Plumbing space somewhere between Fennesz and Rafael Toral, their music is sanguine, star-scanning by nature, focussing the vision from the viscous, cosmic raga whorls of ‘Yama’ to the granular shifts of ‘Sediment’ thru passages of reverberant atonalities and arcing harmonies in ‘Reflection’, to land on properly off world zones in the weightless roil of ‘Capgras Syndrome’, and sumptuous studies in subharmonic drone on ‘Tagundnachtgleiche’, gyring interstellar drama on ‘Rabennaas’, and a gorgeous sort of angelic guitar choral swaddled in softly pealing electronics in ‘Anywhere at the End of Time’.
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Swiss/German guitar duo An Moku & Schmidt wrest an impressive range of textured and resonant tones from their axes, as well as cello, field recordings and electronics, in a bleak one for Karlrecords.
Directly following from 2021’s ‘Raum’, the pair’s ‘Zwischenraum’ returns to a sort of liminal site of investigation for the 2nd of three instalments titled after a line from David Foster Wallace’s ‘Infinite Jest’. Drawing on longheld fascinations with improvisation and experimental soundscaping, Dominik Grenzler aka An Moku lives up to his Japanese moniker, meaning “tacit, unsaid, implicit”, bringing a shadowy, shapeshifting palette to Schmidt’s lifetime of experiments with punk and classical guitar which spill out on their hour of music inside.
Plumbing space somewhere between Fennesz and Rafael Toral, their music is sanguine, star-scanning by nature, focussing the vision from the viscous, cosmic raga whorls of ‘Yama’ to the granular shifts of ‘Sediment’ thru passages of reverberant atonalities and arcing harmonies in ‘Reflection’, to land on properly off world zones in the weightless roil of ‘Capgras Syndrome’, and sumptuous studies in subharmonic drone on ‘Tagundnachtgleiche’, gyring interstellar drama on ‘Rabennaas’, and a gorgeous sort of angelic guitar choral swaddled in softly pealing electronics in ‘Anywhere at the End of Time’.