Michael Bundt Electri City, Chen-Kaiser-Smith-Winant Ocean of Storms
Michael Bundt
Electri City
(Bureau B)
German musician Michael Bundt’s third and final solo album from 1980, Electri City, is certainly dated—I mean, for crying out loud, look at the cover art—but that’s not a bad thing. Not all music has to sound timeless or completely divorced from the time period in which it was made.
However, the problem arises when music does not age well, sometimes implying that its contemporary success was partially due to novelty or lazily conforming to a trend.
Electri City, lovingly reissued by the Krautrock and electronic music label Bureau B, sounds just as charmingly creative today as it likely did in 1980, with playful and off-center synthesizer instrumentals with a pop listenability.
While Kraftwerk might be one point of comparison, Bundt goes a little wilder and less robotic, with modulating and warping synth tones, and this writer feels like he leans more toward, say, Dutch electronic pioneers, the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and TONTO’s Expanding Head Band rather than most of his new-wave contemporaries.
Electri City was made in Bundt’s studio on a four-track recorder, but it has a professional quality and makes heavy use of a PPG synth, which bears certain similarities to Moog products.
It seems like Bundt cannot stop fiddling with knobs—for example, on “Android’s Wedding,” which is even weirder than its title suggests, the synth lines are treated with extreme envelope effects, making the notes waver non-stop, among beats that also constantly change timbres.
Bundt occasionally uses field recordings, such as laughter on “Full Steam Ahead” or sped-up samples of nearly comical, ecstatic gasps on “Lunatic Love Song” among noisy rattling (on a related note, Bundt and collaborator Peter Seiler scored the 1976 adult film Dreamdancer).
A more disquieting carnality appears on “Metagony” with tense panting among unnerving rings of an unanswered phone. Another highlight is the nine-minute track “The March of the Martians” which has a sort of sleazy sci-fi feel to it, with percussive splats and stimulating counterpoint that is—no joke—worthy of a classical piece.
One might be rightfully sick of the constant exhumation of ‘80s material and the aping of new-wave styles, but Electri City is one noteworthy exception and the best of Bundt’s three solo albums.
Chen, Kaiser, Smith, Winant
Ocean of Storms
(Fractal)
With tracks named after different geographic features of the moon, Ocean of Storms brings together four distinguished improvisers in various configurations, evoking a clarity of vision while holding secrets and a certain precariousness.
In other words, while there’s a bit of wandering and toe-dipping, once a certain idea rises to the surface out of obscurity, the players can articulate it adeptly, more often than not.
Guitarist Henry Kaiser—one of the most revered free-improvising guitarists—and trumpeter Wadada Leo Smith—a significant force of avant-garde jazz and a member of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians—have known each other for four decades with collaborations such as the Yo Miles! project paying tribute to Miles Davis’ electric fusion work.
American percussionist William Winant has had a long, versatile career in diverse genres from modern classical to rock, with the likes of John Zorn and Mr. Bungle, and British pianist Tania Chen has built up her reputation with interpretations of John Cage and Morton Feldman.
“Bay of Honor” begins the hour-length album with the full quartet; with piercing, clear and sustained trumpet notes, Smith sounds like there’s a spotlight shining on him, among Winant’s bowed cymbals and Kaiser’s crunchy guitar textures. Chen’s sparing notes are veiled and stand out by not standing out in this ensemble (if that makes sense).
Among the aural fog with wistful squeaks and what sounds like swaying metallic wind chimes, Smith offers a few rocketing trumpet sequences. On “Sea of Crisis,” Smith opts for a brash tone, going between noises and notes and sometimes blowing breathy raspberries, while Kaiser plays with ringing harmonics on his 13-string harp guitar; an uneasy serenity is at play, with Winant complementing the slow burn with bells and metallophone notes.
“Lake of Time” is a piano/trumpet duet, with Smith presenting a panorama of timbres, from clear to cloudy; Chen’s placid piano has a patient, restrained approach, with just a little eventual scampering that largely avoids chords for a monophonic approach with the damper pedal down to let tones linger.
“Montes Spitzbergen” offers a mixed bag of sounds, with Kaiser scratching his guitar and running his fingers across the strings, and Winant breathes heavily while bouncing his mouth harp, later twiddling with a kalimba (thumb piano) and rubbing a tambourine.
The album’s best track is its final, ominous number, “Al-Kwarizimi,” with sick squeals on the guitar, Chen’s persistent foundation with an occasional treble cluster and Winant playing what sounds like timpani with the pitch pedal constantly being varied, adding to a forceful chaotic hailstorm of distinct musical personalities.