German surrealist electronica outfit forge ahead with warm mix of the contemporary and retro
7/10
You may be familiar with the name To Rococo Rot, a band formed in the late '90s by ex-member of Kriedler, Stefan Schneider. Suffice to say that if they've floated your boat with albums such as Hotel Morgen and Speculation, you might be tempted to pick up this newie by his ex-band-mates when you learn of the similarities between the two collectives.
Formed in 1994, Kreidler have knocked out a respectable array of albums, some for the US arm of Mute Records, worked on collaborations and remixes with Chicks on Speed, Einsturzende Neubaten, Depeche Mode and Faust and improvised for galleries, exhibitions and, er, Momus (aka the underrated art-popster Nicholas Currie).
It's no surprise then to discover that Den, the follow-up to 2010's well-received "Tank", comprises a wide breadth of sounds drawn from sources all over the globe, not least Europe and the Far East. Rote Wuste reminds these ears of Mick Karn or Steve Jansen's solo music from the '80s, a pan-asian fusion of steamhammer percussion, what sounds like fretless bass and busy rhythms a la Brian Eno circa-Nerve Net. Cascade wouldn't sound amiss on a later Art of Noise album, mainly due to its pretty ineffectual melody hook, while Celtic Ghosts is more in keeping with the likes of Biosphere, glistening with an eerie similarity to arctic winters without lasting anywhere near as long.
Perhaps the most absorbing piece here is the closing Winter, a dubbed up epic that begins with trademark dronescapes and Michael Brook-eqsue e-bow motifs, before the whole thing breaks down into a machine-gun sampled percussive workout that recalls the earlier experimentation of Alan Wilder's Recoil project. It's all somewhat disturbing and engaging all at once - sometimes the simplest of ideas work best and Thomas Klein's odd offbeat drum work on here works a treat. The rest of Den is thematic, cinematic and synthetic, beautiful without the beast, calm without the storm - and rather rewarding.
7/10
Formed in 1994, Kreidler have knocked out a respectable array of albums, some for the US arm of Mute Records, worked on collaborations and remixes with Chicks on Speed, Einsturzende Neubaten, Depeche Mode and Faust and improvised for galleries, exhibitions and, er, Momus (aka the underrated art-popster Nicholas Currie).
It's no surprise then to discover that Den, the follow-up to 2010's well-received "Tank", comprises a wide breadth of sounds drawn from sources all over the globe, not least Europe and the Far East. Rote Wuste reminds these ears of Mick Karn or Steve Jansen's solo music from the '80s, a pan-asian fusion of steamhammer percussion, what sounds like fretless bass and busy rhythms a la Brian Eno circa-Nerve Net. Cascade wouldn't sound amiss on a later Art of Noise album, mainly due to its pretty ineffectual melody hook, while Celtic Ghosts is more in keeping with the likes of Biosphere, glistening with an eerie similarity to arctic winters without lasting anywhere near as long.
Perhaps the most absorbing piece here is the closing Winter, a dubbed up epic that begins with trademark dronescapes and Michael Brook-eqsue e-bow motifs, before the whole thing breaks down into a machine-gun sampled percussive workout that recalls the earlier experimentation of Alan Wilder's Recoil project. It's all somewhat disturbing and engaging all at once - sometimes the simplest of ideas work best and Thomas Klein's odd offbeat drum work on here works a treat. The rest of Den is thematic, cinematic and synthetic, beautiful without the beast, calm without the storm - and rather rewarding.