Suche:egil kalman

Egil Kalman has levelled up on this one; we were stunned by his last solo opus, and on ‘Forest of Tines’, the bassist/synthesist has traded the EMS Synthi 100 for the Buchla Series 200, recording at Stockholm’s illustrious Elektronmusikstudion (EMS). Here, he builds on themes he explored on his debut with a generous 20 track double album that marks firmer lines between Scandinavian folk music and contemporary electro- acoustic minimalism.

Using woody, synthesised tones that gradually open into sawing wails, Kalman suggests harmonies that lie between the 17th century polska and earlier, pre-Renaissance sounds, mimicking the tonal and textural fluctuations of strings with advanced tuning and sequencing techniques. There are plenty of artists delving into the past to unravel their identity, but Kalman’s approach is refreshingly unadulterated. He recorded the entire set on the fly, using just spring reverb to add extra texture, without overdubs or modern DAW-style layering, the Buchla 200 played almost like an acoustic instrument.

There’s a glimmer of vintage acid on the lithe ‘Dub One’, a complex, rhythmic experiment that lashes its pulses together with willowy portamento slides. And on ‘Klystron’, he absorbs warehouse techno’s architectural oomph, splaying psychedelic, reverberating ascending sequences over jagged kicks; listen carefully, and there’s something else going on in the background too, as Kalman meets his stabs with flute-like echoes. It’s a peculiar cocktail of ideas and provocations: ‘Mbira’ finds the composer shaping his synth into dusty, fluttering hits that resemble the titular Zimbabwean finger harp, and on ‘Drums’, he pipes pre-recorded percussion through the system, triggering its oscillators and helping shape its rhythmic patterns. He’s most comfortable when he’s mines a hazier past, ‘Autumn Leaves’ is a mystickal, just intoned droner that harmonises with Mattias Petersson’s awesome ‘Triangular Progressions’, and ‘Subtines’ sounds as if Kalman has deployed his instrument in a subterranean crevice, resonating his rumbles around synthetic water droplets.

If it’s uncanny court music you’re particularly interested in, there’s plenty of that too. ‘Polska’ is another sublimely hauntological Swedish folk interpolation, while closing track ‘Ocquet’ appears to blur Kalman’s ideas more thoroughly, melting folk phrasing and peaceful, uneasy drones to draw us to a neat conclusion. Soft-hearted but animated, it’s modern electronic music that isn’t afraid of employing vintage techniques to suggest new directions.

In January 2019, at the invitation of fiddler Hans Kjorstad, Alasdair
Roberts travelled from his home in Glasgow, Scotland to Oslo,
Norway, where the two men convened with five additional
Scandinavian musicians at Riksscenen, Oslo’s centre for
Norwegian traditional arts and music. Thus newly-formed, the
group worked on arrangements of songs - self-written and
traditional - from Alasdair’s back catalogue, in preparation for
performances at Riksscenen as well as at ALICE in Copenhagen,
Denmark and the bucolic western Danish island of Fanø. The
group was named Völvur (The Seeresses), a reference to the
ancient Icelandic apocalyptic text Völuspa (The Prophecy of the
Seeress).
In January 2020, Völvur visited England and Scotland, to perform
with Alasdair Roberts at Cecil Sharp House, London and at
Platform, Glasgow, the latter as part of Celtic Connections festival.
The group had new material - freshly written songs by Alasdair
and several traditional Norwegian songs sung by Marthe Lea - and
over a couple days at Sam and Rachel’s Studio in Hackney, laid
down the music which now flows forth as ‘The Old Fabled River’.
The musicians who make up Völvur - Marthe Lea, saxophone,
clarinet and voice, Fredrik Rasten, guitars and voice, Andreas
Hoem Røysum, clarinet, Egil Kalman, bass and electronics, Jan
Martin Gismervik, drums, percussion and the aforementioned
initiator of the project, Hans Kjorstad on fiddle - are a busy and
artistically inquisitive group, involved in a diverse range of projects
with a wide variety of musical interests, from folk and jazz to free
music, modular synthesis, microtonality and beyond. They make
an ideal pairing for such voyages in the alchemical world as
Alasdair pursues in his own music.
On ‘The Old Fabled River’, Alasdair Roberts og Völvur meld their
worlds: fiddle and vocal styles formed in the Norwegian valleys
blending now with exploratory clarinet, saxophone and metallic
bowed guitar drones, now fashioned into baroque folk
arrangements. In one case, instrumental accompaniment is laid
aside, as three voices locate a questing fullness harmonizing
together.