New Belgian label and musical collective Hare Akedod dropped their second and latest release: a compilation C50 of esoterica from twelve unique projects shoring-up a signature sound from analog electronics, eastern song structures, and digital treatments, blended well with a general weird/outsider ethic. Each track is worth a mention, and when rearranged form a complete European lineage from bare, avant-folk recordings, into the electrification and drone of cosmic rock, and back around to the maximal/minimalism of late electronica: starting with the early highlight “Miles D Blues” from Hellvete, a guitar and voice track reminiscent of solo Six Organs of Admittance, with a more overt eastern influence, this meditation becomes outwardly-directed with the new folkways of Brl’-Âab – an anachronistic mix of analog and electronic instruments, with modern and traditional styles, inspired no doubt by the Sir Richard Bishop and a little homework into the modal repetition in Arabic music. Consigning this power then to the instruments, strings and kettle drums in the primitive spiritual by Razen, weirdo noises from Vom Grill, lo-fi guitar babble from Urpf Lanze, we land on “USF1” – a sizzling piece of No Wave by False Friend, reminiscent the recent work by Mattress with a little more glitch filling the gap where the vocalist once stood. This cool is externalized in the vanity of Jan Mathé’s “Gallup,” an automotive synth melodrama like an excerpt from the excerpted Drive soundtrack, ratching to the intense neo-Kraut of Kosmiche Keuterboeren which spews from blown gasket like a Hototogisu track polished to a soft chrome edge. Vibing-out on “Birth Day”, the intro track from Milan W is a light, and lightly-weird synthesis in curved air – a little too odd for something like Sacred Phrases, too mellow for Spectrum Spools – and a fine primer for the huge contribution by DSRlines, a truly original mix of Alva Noto-style micro electronics and cosmic drones, amounting to an understated fugue of tremendous perceptual depth and total engagement. Finally, according to my retelling, comes Forklong Daruplat’s simple galloping guitar “fragment,” which reframes this simple aesthetic ornament over into an acoustical challenge to the stereo field previously deconstructed – and returns us to the communal harmony of the guitarsmith in Hellvete. The ambient void of the closing track from the self-titled Hare Akedod collective is a vast live capture, resonant with strings, buzzing with electronics, and haunted by wailing voices – like a recording made outside the booths from which each of these contributions were simultaneously crafted. Limited to 100 copies in over-sized cases, now sold out at the source. Highly recommended.
Hare Akedod cassette