Aufgehoben, "Anno Fauve"
Recorded in one day, then processed over three years, here is an orgasmic maelstrom. Transmitting as much calm unease as bewildering force, Aufgehoben's third release is beautifully fleet-footed, intensely musical, tantalising ugly and almost tangibly sexual. As if a winged piledriver were coupling with a steel drum, in a furnace.
The dynamic of controlled rage and loose agility in these sounds allows distortion and crushing weight to convey structure (of sorts), suggest tension, power, struggle, and ecstacy. It's left for us to decide when it is tender or violent, casually murderous or lovely. In the swirl, stutter and slam of twin drummers, electronics and guitar, I hear irritation, the layering of musical nacre, and formation of pearls. Surrendering to the implausible rhythm (it's pointless to tap your foot) allows for a strange relaxation to occur in the listener.
Far from creating contrived sterility, the three-year attention to detail pays off, with Aufgehoben appearing to never indulge in bloodless thrash or plodding wankery. No cliche distracts the listeners from organic engagement with the energy, sweetness and integrity of this music. Equally, they don't tip into a parody of extremity, and deserve to avoid attracting jaded evocations of darkness, evil, or aggression. Sure, at times the volume goes up to 11, but it's timed to perfection and a fine balance is undisturbed.
Like discussing past liaisons with a true love, it seems improper or gratuitous to liken "Anno Fauve" to past proponents of anything similar. Suffice to say, comparisons favor Aufgehoben's (mainly) unknown players. In truth, the identity mystery pleases me, probably more than it should. I listened to the CD and was gobsmacked. Apparently there is a different version with some changes in content, track order and packaging. Taking fetishism further, 200 are available (hand-numbered) in clear vinyl, for those who find that sexy. I must confess, I do.
samples:
