Always something new to review, this German band comes as a surprise entry out of left field, carrying no preconceptions or past history to depend on, just 100% discovery. This Frankfurt-based quintet tackles a surprising mixture of guitar-driven rock, opening up this second studio album with a mid-sized instrumental epic “Hell Bent for Saether” featuring guitarist and keyboardist Christian Blaser, dual guitarists Steffen Ahrens and Wolfgang Schoenecker, bassist Jens Cappel who handles the limited vocals as well as keyboards and Stefan Schulz-Anker. The build-up is a classic interlace of criss-crossing guitar phrasings, that promptly develops the cruise autopilot and hits the sonic autobahn with throttling efficiency. The groove has a definite Blue Oyster Cult feel; the three tyrannical guitars blasting away mercilessly, as the shark-like drums hammer ahead with focus and determination. Great introduction that cares little for pretty pretence, just full out turbo charged bluster. Jawohl!
It was kind of rational to transition into swooping synthesized swirls, a mellow side appears on the rather convincing Floydian bloom “The Walls of Crystal Keep”, a bluesy psychedelic guitar flurry that deliberately espouses beauty instead of raw power. The wah-wah effect on the fretboard is a long-lost art, making a pleasant come back at the most opportune time and certainly in the right space. Cappel’s bass guitar carves the crystal castle’s moat with impressive notes, a terrific piece indeed.
Oblique at first, suddenly veering to obstinate, “Unicorn” showcases a more polyrhythmic expanse, with complex patterns in the percussive aspect and an urgent sense of delirium, mixed with fury and defiance, like the mystical creature in the title that exist in the mind yet never was seen in real life. When the measured trot turns to breakneck gallop, the pace becomes overwhelmingly ecstatic.
With all the previous buzz firmly established, the cosmic element now becomes even more overt on the galactic promenade “Sternenfels Space Gate”, an out-and-out, nearly Hawkwind-like in its thrashing velocity and sonic saturation, sustained by free of gravity propulsive boosters that define the genre. Hot Rails to Hell meets Space Ritual.
Another concrete slab of echoing lunacy can be found on “Everywhere I Rest my Head the Ground is Shifting” (now, that is a title), a clanging, reverberating, obscured by clouds platform for the Psychedelic warlords to develop their tectonic brand of space rock. The axes grind fierce and abrupt, the rhythm permanently on the offensive, unrelenting and brazen, the bruised mind flung deep into the abyss of the galaxy.
The acoustic “The Magic Balloon” is an astonishing respite, portraying Jens’ hushed vocals, as psychedelic as one can hope for, sliding guitars gliding eloquently in and out of range, Ummagumma revisited. Halfway through, the unannounced drums thud majestically, taking the arrangement to a higher level, the bass rolling like a stone and the liquid axe solos dripping with fervent bravura, arching up to the skies.
Definitely a band to keep the black cat’s eye on, a voyaging feline that may just bloom (Eric?) into a flaming telepath to the stars. Viel spass!
4 Decoded celestial nightmares