FENNESZ

Venice

Touch (2004)

review by Mark Morton

Stravinsky once said that the next masterpiece would be created by the person with the most advanced vocabulary. He was not speaking of words, but knowledge. In the electronic world, this means that the artist should have a knowledge of yesterday's techniques as well as a command of his or her current chosen language. With the notable exception of some of the works of Steve Roach and those influenced by him, ambient electronic music has yet to produce the sort of music that goes right for the gut. A good example in another genre would be "Loveless" by My Bloody Valentine, as the countless emotional reviews on Amazon.com aptly demonstrate.

Christian fennesz has been credited and typecast as a "laptop musician" and "from the glitch school" but this tells the listener little about his music. Watching his recorded output inexorably advance toward the emotional outpouring that is Venice has been very interesting for this reviewer. It has been akin to seeing shapes beneath a mountain of snow gradually revealed as the snow melts. The first hint I had that fennesz was an artist of the utmost impact was Live In Japan, which revealed the odd mixture of brilliant atmospheres, "straight" playing and poignant electronic noise that was his emerging style. He then nearly stole the show when he guested on David Sylvian's Blemish on the stunning "Fire in the Forest" which evoked emotions that seemed profound and warm rather than cool and hip.

All of this was some preparation for Venice, a work of remarkable beauty and power, but fennesz's assault on our gut is nearly unprecedented, at least among the schools he has been nominally associated with and rare even among the ambient spacemusic scene I usually cover. If you are a fan of ambient and spacemusic this release could slip by unnoticed. It would be your loss.

On this recording the snow covering the grandeur of fennesz's activity has nearly melted. It is spring and one can hear clearly the sources of the sounds he electronically manipulates and how he twists things to suit his heady artistic purposes. The result, to me, is simply breathtaking.

The opening track, "Rivers of Sand," begins with a short wistful motive that is looped and mixed with emotionally charged noise and sharp, spiked glitches, which fit the reflective mood perfectly. The sound sources could be synths, guitars, sine tones, or whatever but they are put in the service of an ineffable longing that, if you are in the mood for it, will give you a visceral reaction. Additionally, there are wild, brief variations and modulations that are tastefully mixed into the main track. The most important thing here is that every sound seems like it is put in the service of the music. "Chateau Rouge" follows and sounds initially choppier, but the listener soon discovers that every churning bleep or whir seems to fit into the main piece, a charming little ditty that gradually becomes interdimensional with the introduction of delightful, warm pink noise and blurred edges -Venice as seen from Venus. "City of Light" begins with a dark soundscape and slowly morphs into a composition where intriguing Enoesque organ chords are deconstructed. All is quiet but all is not well. "Onsra" begins with static and noise before "Circassian," a cocoon of wired sound springs forth to capture the listener's attention. The sound source here is guitar and it is reminiscent of early Velvet Underground or Glenn Branca. The progression and accompanying feedback grow in intensity, accompanied by a winsome groaning in the lower tones that rises majestically then slowly drifts to a quiet conclusion. "Onsay" follows, a rich, resplendent drone that fades quickly into "The Other Face" which begins with a short mellotronish loop with some interesting, percussive noise interjections. In "Transit" David Sylvian returns the favor and provides an expressive and innovative guest vocal. Sylvian seems to goad fennesz into composing the wildest array of sonic effects on the recording thus far, but all in the service of advancing the piece, helped immeasurably by Sylvian's aching, longing delivery. This track bears no resemblance to ambient or spacemusic but is a powerful piece of electronically inspired expression. The piece consists of a somber melody intoned by Sylvian, occasionally double-tracked, and illustrated by fennesz's sonic explorations. "The point of it all" begins with ghostly sonic fragments echoing down a corridor before fragments of distant percussion loops are triggered to play over the mournful sounding fragments. Somehow, harmonies appear and are resolved before disappearing beneath the water. Soon, plucked guitar notes appear before the piece ends abruptly. "Laguna" begins with straight electric guitar playing with no distortion, like a lost track from an early Jefferson Airplane recording. The piece continues, glistening like a jewel, sounding all the more wonderous and strange because it is an electric guitar piece unfettered with sonic alteration. "Asusu" is a short mysterious interlude leading into the final track, "The Stone of Impermanence," a guitar piece that is given the fennesz sonic blitz treatment. This piece, which concludes the recording, manages to sound intense and jarring and pretty and subtle at the same time before the guitar fades and more mysterious synth textures bring the recording to a conclusion.

Although it is only April as I write this, I find it hard to believe that this recording will end up anywhere but at #1 on my top ten for 2004. I compare the impact this excellent recording had on me to the first time I heard Another Green World upon its release. I will not use the word masterpiece until I have heard a few subsequent releases. But I am sorely tempted. There is possibility in music again. My highest recommendation.