“Great sequencing art, much more attractive synth solos and ambiences a bit hot for depicting the cold; this is a great album from Syndromeda”
1 Hreyfing einn 16:50
2 Hreyfing tvö 17:00
3 Hreyfing þrjú 13:28
4 Hreyfing fjögur 11:44
5 Hlýjan vetur 10:40
(CD-R/DDL 69:43) (V.F.)
(Berlin School)
Like it or not, a new Syndromeda album attracts the curiosity of Berlin School fans. For fun, I list the phases which take me to the last step. Either where I am finally seduced. The first phase is amazement with frowns. Thereafter it is Humm it's not bad. Then, wow what a solo. And finally; Hey this album is particularly good! With KALT, which means cold, I went through these stages quite easily, since at the outset, Hreyfing einn seduces us quite easily.
Yet its dark winds which initiate it seem rather to come out of hell with scarlet breezes which quietly mutate for icy winds where the frost rises to the surface. This first movement begins with relentless heaviness and slowness. Reverberation zones gush between the cracks of oxygen on this northern wall, creating large burps that turn into mechanical buzzing. With electronic twittering, thick chthonian layers are added which bring this music of Nordic atmospheres to more well-known territories of Syndromeda. Especially when the sequencer begins the dance of its keys by making them advance and stumble in this mass of voices. These shivering voices embrace this movement with fascination in an ambience where the cold breaks down. The sequencer resonates the weight of its slow rhythmic charge by waddling in a more electronic decor betrayed by these multiple effects when the Cosmos and psychedelia converge in a point of creativity. There where the hissing and snoring solos make melt Hreyfing einn. The second act of KALT is introduced by the very seraphic nature of the synth pads which take on the shapes and colors of the northern lights. A line of voices floats inside these layers, injecting a seraphic as well as a nebulous presence into these atmospheres from which try to graft bursts of buzzing. The sequencer activates the rhythm as soon as the 3-minute point is crossed. The movement is hopping with loops that almost touch each other, and where the impression of climbing a circular staircase without ever running out of steam is at the reach of imagination. Synth solos begin to sing with a nice timbre, an enchanting timbre I would insist, with this little Bianca Castafiore side. This rhythm structure pretty well hides the voracious aspect of the sequencer with resonance effects that go pretty well with an echo in the solos. This attractive movement loses its radiance around the 7th minute. In survival mode, the sequencer barely breathes while the synth imitates the bass line by accentuating an artistic presence where we lose sight of, the main aspect of KALT.
And it's not the tortuous introduction of Hreyfing þrjú that will change the situation. Here, the synth layers coo with a state of inebriety in the air, as in tone. The sequencer moves forward and backward with the presentiment that it will start running soon. But it won't run! Not yet, in any case. It injects a little more jumping keys which gives a more nourished line with resonance effects. The chthonian voices are grafted to the twisted effects of the synth, including this organic voice which groans under strikes of bass drum which give this impression of rhythmic velocity. Arpeggios flutter in an unreal nursery rhyme, becoming in possession of a minimalist line which extends its dominance in a decor and a mephistophelic vision of the synth and its capacities to draw unreal panoramas. Heavy, slow and bewitching, the first 45 minutes of this album are pure delight. And there is still room for a title like Hreyfing fjögur and its cosmic rhythm which oscillates lazily in a galaxy near my home. The synth is juicy with airs of satyrs in this structure which evolves continuously in order to reach a boiling point not really compatible with a vision that I can have of cold. There is Vangelis, for the circular rays, and Jean-Michel Jarre, for the cosmic corridors, in a music where the chthonian rhythm of the sequencer carries the seal Syndromeda. And I would have stopped there, but what would be a Syndromeda album without a short symphony of dark winds? This is what Hlýjan vetur is offering! A little moment of dark ambient music in a huge EM album from Syndromeda.
Sylvain Lupari (20/04/20) ****¼*
Available at SynGate Bandcamp
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