There’s so much clever and so little content in Walzerzyklus that it’s tempting to to brush it off as an exercise in style over substance. Like so much of Uwe Schmidt’s work, however, the borderline insane amount of style on show here is matched by substance in spades. The technical and structural limitations Schmidt has imposed upon himself have forced him to compress a startling array of ideas and techniques into an incredibly short space of time.
Atom™ returns to the Raster half of the now bifurcated Raster-Noton label to conclude what is now a trilogy of releases that began with the experimental Liedgut and continued with the chilly ambience of Winterreise. This time he has teamed up with Russian vocalist Lisokot, adding another unique dimension to his elaborately structured minimalism.
For Walzerzyklus, Uwe Schmidt has gone incredibly high-concept, creating a concise piece that works on many layers, both structurally and thematically. Representing the “waltz cycle” of its title in every possible way, it consists of three precisely two-minute long tracks featuring a recurring vocal melody and simply titled “Leitmotif I, II & III” surrounding four running for exactly three. At a total of just eighteen minutes, calling this is an album is something of a stretch but it’s structure does perfectly reflect the classic ¾ time signature of the waltz.
There’s so much clever and so little content in Walzerzyklus that it’s tempting to to brush it off as an exercise in style over substance. Like so much of Uwe Schmidt’s work, however, the borderline insane amount of style on show here is matched by substance in spades. The technical and structural limitations Schmidt has imposed upon himself have forced him to compress a startling array of ideas and techniques into an incredibly short space of time.
Bookending Walzerzylkus with a veil of white noise (much like Liedgut does) “Leitmotif I” emerges with cool serenity from the haze, Lisokot crooning and cooing over bass pulse and freeze-dried pads. At the centre of Walzerzyklus, “Leitmotif II” layers those same vocals over a stomping military march that descends into phase-shifting chaos, while the closing “Leitmotif III” recaps by incorporating elements from almost every other movement in the work.
Atom™’s stilted words and Lisokot’s bird like vocals pirouette together across a dancefloor of Autechre-like metallic ball-bearings and analogue squelch in “Transhuman Melody.” Those that remember AtomTM’s cover version of “My Generation” from his divisive HD album will be just as unconvinced by this version of Gene Vincent’s “Be Bop A Lula,” sung by Lisokot in a sort of world-weary Lana del Rey drawl but with so much tremulo it arguably undermines the lofty overtones of the rest of piece.
Then there’s the gunfire and and jackhammer drilling of “Machinewalter,” peppered with Lisokot’s cut-up cyborg vocals that then spiral beautifully into clouds of piano keys. The final piece is full on crazy, with Lisokot entirely absent. First, ‘Alliiertenwaltzer” quacks like a duck as the flare of neurons rebounding off mirror-polished walls, then Atom™’s vocodered voice punctuates its core ending with a denouement so sombre it almost hurts.
It may be a little pricey for what you get, but it does once again come in Raster-Noton’s older, pharmaceutical style packaging. A less seasoned and avant-garde artist than Atom™ might have failed to make something so self-constricted and short feel cohesive and substantial, but Walzerzyklus never comes across as anything less than a perfectly timed, self-contained and exquisitely choreographed event.
Walzerzyklus is out now on Raster Media.
