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Showing posts with label bersarin quartett. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bersarin quartett. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2012

Jonny's Top 10 Releases of 2012

If there was ever a year to get into electronic music, 2012 was probably that year. As well as Burial and Clubroot showing the world how dubstep should be done, we've had an explosion of talent from Russia in the likes of Night Shift and Clonki  as well as local scenes blossoming in both the east (Borealis, Liar) and west (Kettel, Secede, Chymera) of mainland Europe. In the meantime, Indie music seems to be suffering from an identity crisis in this Hipster-conscious age if Metronomy singles are to be believed, Metal continues to go the way of pop-punk by continuing to stagnate and Pop itself is even embracing the deeper sides of electronic. Folk's done alright, actually, but for the purpose of getting you to listen to electronic we'll ignore that. Ambient, as ever, has enjoyed a fantastic year.

So here it is, my personal top 10 releases of the year.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Album Review: Bersarin Quartett - II

Album Rating: A+
What does it say about our lives when music critics repeatedly reward albums with a more-than-slightly dark edge? Are we really all modern day hermits: scared to leave the house and even more so of other people; or simply eager to sink into a sea of self pity and emotional immolation? The question of “why” withstands; the question of “how” does not. Nothing moves us more than tragedy. A brief glance at the most influential musicians of the past few decades will greet you with a recurring scene of loneliness, drugs and suicide; tell-tale signs of people who occupy their own space instead of the world around them. Sometimes the music itself seems irrelevant in all the context: it doesn’t take much to grab us when we’re in the mood. Walk into the past of Bersarin Quartett and you will find no such tragedy, or at least none so openly displayed. Despite the title, Bersarin Quartett is comprised solely of one Thomas Bucker and, despite the lack of emotional context, II might just be one of the most heart-stoppingly sorrowful records of this millennia.