German percussionist Hannes Lingens summons the creatures of the night on his Nachthund (UMLAUT RECORDS UB011), a blast of Blackened Black Metal noise dedicated to the Hounds of Hell who roam by night seeking whom they may chew with their slavering jaws.
Well, not really. In fact he’s a very able drummer exploring experimental modes of playing on his kit and doing it for a long time. On the ‘Nacht’ piece, for instance, it’s done with long drum rolls and brushes, creating an ominous drone which is then punctuated with low-key metallic screeches. Since he collaged this composition from his own pre-recorded tapes, it’s effectively as much a work of tape music or musique concrète, and it does indeed sustain a supernatural mood for some 19 mins of ingenious clankery. Sorry that I can’t help perceiving “diabolical” undercurrents in the music. Maybe it’s the black cover art with the ghostly image of a flying animal. But the music doesn’t disappoint, and by the latter half of this “long dark night of the soul”, we’re hearing all manner of unwelcome creaks and threatening squeals, suggestive of the rain on the roof of an old inn or time spent on board a pirate galleon (probably nailed up in the hold). Very inventive, and the episodic / radio-play mode makes for compelling listening.
If however you’re the sort of purist who wants to hear live music recorded in a single take, Hannes has provided for you also, with ‘Hund’ and ‘Manatee’. Amazingly, it’s all done with one cymbal, He either hits it with a mallet or he brushes it with a bow. Seems that one favoured method is to use very close placement of the microphone, so every smallest gesture can be clearly heard. It’s about extracting hidden sounds from the body of the kit. Another favoured method was to make his recordings during the night. He says this was to avoid any unwanted outside sound ending up on the tape, but us occultist types know better, and it’s obvious he was performing a forbidden rite by candlelight. Matter of fact you can even hear a barking dog on ‘Hund’, hence the title. Apart from that yapping moment, this one’s a steady droner and so machine-like in its perfection that it might almost have been created by a turbine or fridge motor.
Even deeper now into the subsonics and bass frequencies with ‘Manatee’, a smokey and slow-burning episode which, if put onto YouTube as a 12-hour loop and advertised as “calming sleep aid for insomniacs”, would cause a riot across the world, leading to imminent collapse of the internet. Lingens relishes the creation of “confusing dynamics” in his work here, and deliberately avoids the usual practice of a percussionist, i.e. punctuating time with beats or otherwise marking the rhythm of life with a judicious tap. Instead, these “continuous sounds” create the delicious oceanic forces that suck many a soul to the bottom of the sea. Not sure if we ever heard his first solo album from 2018 (this is his second), but he did surface in duo mode on Alluvium with Jamie Drouin and on the Musæum Clausum record. The one to go for however is that 2022 composition he made for Edition Wandelweiser, a piece of such deliberation and great potential that it’s evident he approaches every project with a certain amount of gravity and preparation. Vinyl edition also available. From 3rd October 2022.