Markus Guentner :: Empire (A Strangely Isolated Place)

There’s no sign of compromise on Empire, no resorting to volume manipulation to evoke scale and majesty, no cheap fade outs or reliance on lengthy stretches of glacially-slowly progressing loops to artificially extend its presence. And damn is it hard to believe that Empire is just shy of sixty minutes long! Where in the universe does the time go? Wolfgang Voigt, eat your heart out. You should be so lucky as to achieve something as transcendent as this.

It was in 2015 that Markus Guentner returned to A Strangely Isolated Place to release Theia, his first full LP for the label. An immersive, almost abstract ambient masterwork centered around grandiose cosmic events, it saw Guentner move away from dub-techno and further towards pure ambience. Three years on and Guentner returns with the sequel, Empire. Expecting more of the same was a foolish thing to do, as Empire raises the bar even higher. How to begin?

Well, for one thing, there’s no sign of compromise on Empire, no resorting to volume manipulation to evoke scale and majesty, no cheap fade outs or reliance on lengthy stretches of glacially-slowly progressing loops to artificially extend its presence. And damn is it hard to believe that Empire is just shy of sixty minutes long! Where in the universe does the time go? Wolfgang Voigt, eat your heart out. You should be so lucky as to achieve something as transcendent as this.

Right from the opening seconds of “Offworld” it is clear that Guentner has expanded his usual sonic palette of gauzy, Gas-like ambient loops to include mammoth strings that swim into focus amidst his more recognisable, evocative and panoramic style. The power and scale of the track gradually increases not by deafening and intimidating raising of volume, but a deft increase in sonic density and intensity.

The appearance of collaborators on an artist’s later work can be seen as many things: an attempt to appeal to a new audience, a desire to strike out in a new direction, even a creative drought. They can make or break an album. The best kind of collaborations appear to be those that purely benefit the work, and are achieved by selecting exactly the right people, respecting their musical disciplines and then carefully nurturing and balancing their contributions.

Markus has achieved this and then some, and whilst Julia Kent’s violins may be just a tad too high in the mix of this reviewer’s personal taste, they provide an exquisite emotional counterpoint to the brooding, tense stillness and subterranean booming of “Refraction.”

Worried that a collaboration with a strong personality like Bvdub with his unmistakable, emotionally charged and melodically rooted style might upset the delicate balance? Well fear not friends, for while his dominant piano melodies in “Kuria” are as recognisable as his name, they too are a perfect match for the heady mix of drone and classical that pervade Empire.

The mastering of this record (especially on vinyl) is also flawless, with tricky, sub-bass-heavy but deeply nuanced excursions like “Fura” or “Nun” rendered perfectly. The latter is a particular triumph and the most closely aligned to Empire‘s predecessor, Theia. It’s a monolithic ambient track that casts long, dark and foreboding shadows before leading into the blissfully tranquil “Halo.”

Ah yes, “Halo,” a drone piece so transcendent it’s like being transported to nirvana on angel wings, thanks in no small part to Tom Moth’s coruscating harp. Wreathed in cascades of ivory silk, drenched in shafts of golden sun and underpinned by sub-bass that beggars belief, “Halo” is the track most evocative of the warm terracottas and natural earthy browns that illuminate Empire’s planet and moon cover art. The unalloyed genius employed here creates a lingering moment of perfect beauty.

If there’s a better way to end an album than “New World Order” I’d like to hear it. It’s like the crooning voice of the universe slowly breathing life into a new world. It has all the devastatingly emotional, poignant melodic beauty of Global Communication at their atmospheric, Vangelis-channeling best (think 76’14 or, in this case, their towering remix of The Grid’s “Rollercoaster”) together with the grand guignol of Hans Zimmer’s bass-obsessed soundtrack to Blade Runner 2049, all finished off with vision-blurring feedback.

It’s hard not to comment yet again on the physical presentation of Empire, especially because A Strangely Isolated place continually manages to surpass itself with each new release. The artwork adorning the usual matte-laminated gatefold sleeve is a sight to get lost in, whilst the coloured vinyl is a ruddy, translucent marbled orange, evocative of ancient blocks of swirled amber.

The attention to detail on the double vinyl edition is just staggering. Each of the first three sides of the record include vinyl-exclusive mixed versions of the tracks, serving as a neat and unique bonus for owning (and listening) to the physical artefact. Think that sounds topsy-turvy? Well if you’re making the effort to sit down and listen to Empire on vinyl, why wouldn’t you mix these tracks together to form a longer laster single experience before having to get up and turn over? Meanwhile, the digital download offers each track discreetly. Brilliant.

It’s rare to find oneself utterly convinced than an album is genuinely flawless, but in the case of Empire it is simply the perfect adjective. How has Markus Guentner done this?

Empire is available on A Strangely Isolated Place.