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Schwabinggrad
Ballett An exhausting listen. A beautiful experience. A sound no genre can define. A recording that can't be described in traditional terms. A grueling task for a critic. The images and feelings it conveys are the most definable things about Schwabinggrad Ballet's self titled debut... I recently saw a documentary theorizing that early amphetamines were what fueled Hitler's maniacal invasions and atrocities, motivated the masses to carry out the sinister plot and eventually led to the Fuhrer's failing health and downfall. Visions of a grainy, black and white, psychedelic film depicting these events through Hitler's eyes are all I can see when I play this incredible record, and only this could be the soundtrack. (If anybody wants to give me funding to make this, get in touch!) As the opening credits begin, you hear the slow wailing strings of opener Under Control. Flashing visions of dingy labs and various chemicals, maps being studied, as the strings intensify a sleeve is rolled up, and with an injection the vocals erupt "I'm under control of a mighty force, keep slipping me through imaginary doors." The multiple layers give you a strange feeling when piped through headphones, as if you have six ears and are hearing different things in each channel. Trashcan is the punk rock-ish beat of a raiding party on maximum overdrive. Doors being kicked in, percussion sounding like bullets being loaded into the chamber, chimes that coincide with bells on the entrance to a store as the storm troopers barge in. Track 10 (title too long to name) and Trauma Troopers have an eerie circus march sound that evokes visions of detainees being paraded through the streets. Alternating between reality views of terrified captives and filters views through Hitler's eyes where his troops have glowing balls of light around their heads and white wings and the captives have horns, tails and hooves showing that he truly believes his cause is just and righteous. I'm not sure what track 9 says (it's in German), but a slow, sad tune is cranked out of the accordion beneath the traumatic sounding vocals of a mass burial scene. Track 6 has a frantic rhythm of bomber engines and escalating battle, distorted cries of the anguished victims, electronic bits and various rapid-fire percussion, while track 7 sees Hitler in a bunker waiting for the bombs to fall, his health failing, with a punky beat, metallic riffs and a sample of "Time is running out." As we see Hitler prepare for his last fix, he hears the voice of God calling him home. As he loads a single round into his pistol, puts it to his temple and pulls the trigger, as his guards in the next room rush to investigate, Moderne Welt begins to play - a beautifully sung (in German) female vocal finale over a slow rock melody of bass, violin and various sparse plucks - and the end credits roll. That's just a brief overview of the mental imagery I get when listening. This doesn't usually happen, but I can't block it out when I play this. I know you came here to read a record review, not a screenplay. Sorry... |
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