Dah Basement Crew, Jazzmus Xperiment, Lumisokea

REVIEWS by Franziska Mucha

Klubb Kanin May 15, 2011



You gotta fight

Shirts and guitars, the boys get armed while the girl is processing orgiastic mantras, one, two, three, her voice moans, call for duty, the gang unites and clings together around her, ready to rumble, ready to fight. With a battle cry they set out on wild horses, struggling to tame their rhythm, penned up in purple light…i guess you talk too much, you’d better shot and break loose, running wild randomness. The doors clash in a garage – welcome to Dah Basement Crew jam session where everything can happen, accidentally. An experimental guitar hero medley, tinny jaw’s harp, sticks on metal, sticks on guitar feed native cries. Lost in noise, they are homeless rebels, eclectic agents of the blurry, searching the wilderness for unknown sounds. If you can’t marry outside your religion fool around outside your species, and fatigue all over, climaxing in pathos while playing with bare trivialities, just wake me up when we get there and when there is nothing more to say: do the morrison, red light black night.

Dah Basement Crew

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Patterns in pastel

Diskobar crossfades persistent 70s understatement ambience, hammond organ is waiting to evoke nostalgia, guitar and synthesizer chit-chat silently, the living room is filled with Saturday afternoon tightness, dust, dancing in yellow spotlights, oh brothers where are thou? And now close your eyes and lean back, Jazzmus Xperiment is about to unfold their carpet of relaxation, a dreamy flight to the moon and back. Surfing along the invisible scale of grandpa’s radio aerial we can hear the energy of the universe, sizzling with fingertips while full-hand chords break through the sphere, floppy sounds and earth contact. The pianist, a triangular twister-player, exposed, the man on the guitar crouched down, brothers in spirit they communicate telepathic, laying a cover of ease around our shoulders and I will catch you if you are falling, deep, deep into outer space. Blinking lights and other reflections, stars explode in the background, bow and guitar fraction while the piano flaneurs through melancholic narrations, did anyone lived happily ever after? Idyllic panorama, mountains and rivers, naïve beauty filled with sphere and loops, lead me to your dealer, the peaceful invasion of film sequences floats my brain, forever, I want to walk in fields of glory let my hands touch the grass of whatever…a convenient layer of comfort.

Jazzmus Xperiment

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I can’t but bang

Glass bursts, rhythm inside the darkness, spotlights and the bass is resonating in my head, I can’t but bang. Lumisokea serves electronic heartbeats, precise arranged, smashing every bone in my body, I am sound, I am beat, I am with you. Isolated peaks penetrate my gasping ear, every single sound is exactly where it needs to be, leading on a trip to dystopia. Disharmony dissolves in reluctant silence. Fog lies on destroyed battlefield and a single carillon takes us away, hope is rising, they control the power, artificial, and the ball comes back again, pong, and attack, the earth cracks open, the world stands still, a wall of noise erects and the sound is stunning and the prophet is preaching, choppy Russian syllables, frog perspective and deeper. In the background: giant star cruisers crossing the sky, claiming the whole heaven and the children shut their ears and point at them while pictures slide away. Plastic rains, triangle sings, Transsiberian teleporter, we are save, shipping on camels – the desert is patient, the desert is pity. Persona non grata, but our electric heartbeat is without remorse and carries on, causing flow, building chaos. Big city life, the last step of evolution, subway sounds, toktoktok, suddenly all noise is magnetized, avalanche in the street, an ever hungry monster which chases us through stony narrowness, left, right, left, follow the white rabbit and we can feel revelation is near, kantona is singing like an angel and while calmness and hectic negotiate our fate, the tortoise bends down to the ant, I know, once upon a time the disharmony wanted to be a melody, echo hallows.


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