13/05/2018

All Melody - Nils Frahm

Track list:

1. The Whole Universe Wants to Be Touched
2. Sunson
3. A Place
4. My Friend the Forest
5. Human Range
6. Forever Changeless
7. All Melody
8. #2
9. Momentum
10. Fundamental Values
11. Kaleidoscope
12. Harm Hymn

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2018
So another insert here, as I decided I did want to follow up on investigating Nils Frahm after the collaboration with Ólafur Arnalds. The first disc sold me, even though I was disappointed by the second.

The first, short, intro tune starts with ~10 seconds of silence. In a sub-2 minute track that's a significant chunk of time. I can see how and why silence might be used in structuring pieces, but I do wonder about tacking it on to the start or end of the track. In a live performance it might set tone and expectation, but on record? Not so sure.

This is a long disc and I have got up early on a Sunday to make time for it. I failed to find the right energy to do it last night (wash out all round, alas) and am trying to set that right. Soon I have to go off to do a huge shop (for two separate households) and then play dutiful son for a while. Yesterday was cleaning mold from windows that hadn't seen a cleanse in too long. Life's full of fun, eh?

It takes a little while to kick in, but Sunson has the pulsing staccato electronics that endeared the first disc of the Frahm/Arnalds collaboration to me. These kind of rhythms and patterns appeal to me a lot, I wonder why? A constant reference point, perhaps, or a subconscious connection to the heartbeat? I don't think "pulse" is a bad term for it at all. Over the top of this there are wandering pipes. I am reminded a little of Vangelis of all people. There is a little bit of a throwback vibe here. Then, about two thirds of the way through the track just stops. This is better use of silence, a reset, reformulate. The theme that comes back after the break is immediately relevant to what went before but framed very differently, so the quick enforced quiet between the two presentations allows for that relationship without the change being jarring or lost.

I find this hard to place. There's more going on in the pieces than perhaps I expected there would be so it's less immediately relaxing than I anticipated. Finding the words to describe where it would sit is tough. 

Vangelis probably is my best touchstone or reference point, despite this being less synth heavy, because of the variety. There are similarities in the structuring of the tracks and themes moreso than the actual sounds. Even the use of space, such as in the nice keyboard melody on My Friend the Forest, has echoes of the Greek. Actually here I feel there are actual melodic reflections of Vangelis tracks too, albeit with a more stripped down sound. The next track then veers off in a different direction, with taught trumpets that remind me of Scandinavian jazz, but with a slow tempo that, in combination, is really quite disturbing and hard to listen to.

By contrast, when Frahm brings out the keyboard, he has a nice, light touch, surprisingly so.

Is the title meant to be ironic? All Melody starts with anything but. Sure, a tune emerges from the electronics as it moves forward but it is not immediately melodic. My point of reference here dives to Ben Prunty's soundtrack for sci-fi roguelike FTL, a frustrating little game scored perfectly to enhance its tension.  Here the track builds a similar sense of edginess, the sound rounds out over time and the crescendo this involves is effective at subtly ratcheting up that dial further too. The track evolves as it goes, whilst always maintaining that tense aspect. 

You know, I totally missed a change of track there. The electronic rhythm seemed to continue right through with no break, and when you're talking two back-to-back 9 minute tunes...I am liking this mid section of the album though. Pulse, tempo, and tension. Ambient or electronica can be waffly and vague, purposeless. These three elements give it form and structure, give something to get your teeth into, something to lose yourself in, rather than simply losing track of the tune. 

I am losing track of this though... my mind has checked out, seeking refuge in nothingness as an antidote to the day ahead. I look forward to the day when I don't feel put upon, but I don't know if my mind will ever let me get there. We're almost through the album now, Kaleidoscope and its messy approximation of wind chimes and devotional singing is a but jarring. The low vocals on their own are nicely curated but the sounds layered over them are less appealing. It seemed as though the track got better in the latter stages of its 8 minute timeframe but to be honest I think I blocked out the bits that were less immediately accessible to me and concentrated on the part that I enjoyed

Overall this has been a strange listen for a number of reasons. The music itself is certainly one, but the timing (starting before 9am on a Sunday) is probably the key one, along with cutting away between tracks to get things done. It's not ideal, but then neither is finding a 73 minute block to dedicate when life continues on. I need my space and time, but for my own wellbeing I need to find a way to continue things like this, too... if I am not, it means my energy levels are down and I'm probably in a rut. 

The final track ends with silence, more than 10 seconds worth, but still a noticeable mirror to how it began. Overall I think there are some wonderful moments in this disc but it struggles to maintain the peak quality throughout.

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