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TUPOLEV S/t CD-EP/download, 12rec.
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Sometimes what is not played is more important than the sounds
played. I have no idea, who this statement is from (Ornette Coleman might
be a good hint, but I really can’t remember), but the holes left open by
Tupolev are so big an old fashioned airplane would fit through. This
wonderful debut EP has half an hour of serious and intentional noodling,
lost in its own universe of the notes played and finds a perfect balance
between structured composition and the liberty (or lethargy) of letting
things run its own way. Thinking about it, I bet a lot of work, reworking
and chipping away of superfluous parts went into the writing of these
tracks. And it was well worth it. This EP is free to download on the
12rec-website. |
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My amazement as to how deep some musicians are able to
get into sound without losing contact to a defined structure is still as big
as a mountain. Just as these songs are, even if they hide underneath a soft
blanket for most of the time. Tupolev, a name I rather associated with a big
hunk of machinery that people always wondered about how it was able to fly
at all, and did for so long nevertheless, are a young band or
band-collective from Austria, who founded when they went and bought their
instruments[1] some years ago. Sounds as if those years in a
rehearsal space really were worth it. And also gives away that it would be
impossible to hurry them into anything. A trait of character no less
remarkable in our hectic modern age. Their deep, almost deadpan seriousness
mixed with a natural dilettantism makes up for most of the wonders they
prepare on this, their debut EP. At six songs and a little over half an
hour, this record is more than just an EP, actually, but the term “mini
LP” has become as outdated as the concept of dialling a number on a
telephone. The tracks on this record are a quite dispersed batch
of ideas and well-structured musical narratives that are held together by
their earnest execution. Amongst the basic piano, drum, bass / cello and
guitar figures there is some field recordings of people talking in a pub,
electronic noise mixed through the flowing sounds, then some vocal pieces
and even one song with almost real singing verses. A bottleneck guitar
straight from the first album of Sigur Ros. The intensity of a handful of
musicians really listening to each other from Bohren & Der Club Of
Gore’s black album. And, while I am naming legendary records here, I bet
that opening D-chord of “Frigid Stars” by Codeine had a major influence
on Tupolev, especially in the way chords and single notes get their time to
sound, vibrate and fade out. Most of the time the basic instruments play in
a lose yet well-timed and defined structure, with lots of holes to be filled
or purposefully left open. This looseness pays a lot for the joyfulness that
is transmitted in the basically sombre and melancholic atmosphere of the
songs. For instance, “good ole mistake”, the track closest
to the traditional concept of a song, is like a group of musicians who
stumbled upon each other accidentally in a seedy, half empty bar late at
night and half drunk and decided to play one song together. Which makes Black Heart
Procession sound like a tightly wound rock-band in comparison.
The other song with real lyrics and singing verses, “as for misery”,
almost topples over itself in its own somnambulence. And after all that
ending with the multiple self-recordings of the Tupolev Choir acapella
“less tears, more sadness”, where obviously the band itself loses words
to describe what is going on and falls into the theoretical trap of seeing
the vocals as just another instrument from the opposite side. Sounds as if Tupolev are carving out their own unique
musical niche, that sits deftly between all kinds of styles: too amateurish
for modern classical music, too simple for jazz, too loose for postrock, too
weird for the alternative crowd, not weird enough for the people who read
The Wire (or maybe not.) Musicians daring to go their own way so self
consciously always get my respect. And after having penned all of
this down, I wonder if this is going to be the year for great, instrumental
music (see Natsat
or Don’t mess with Texas
for that argument) that transcends the sturdy boundaries of
postrock-whatever and enjoys itself meandering into every direction it
fancies. [1] I don’t know if this is just a story, but even if it is I wouldn’t care, because I like that phrase so much. So I had to retell it straight from the info-sheet. |
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03/2005
