KLAUS SCHULZE: Trancefer (1981/2006)
“Trancefer is the album which allies a little better the old music of Schulze to his new digital era”
1 A Few Minutes after Trancefer 18:20
2 Silent Running 18:57
3 A Few Minutes after Trancefer (Version 33 Halfspeed) 18:17
4 Silent Running (Version 45) 19:07
IC – KS 80014
SPV 305502 CD - REV 071
(CD 74:41) (V.F.)
After the cold surprise of Dig It, Klaus Schulze comes back with an album that links a bit better the old Schulze with his new digital era. Although TRANCEFER is the shortest album that he produced up to this day with hardly 38 minutes for 2 long tracks with slow and minimalist evolutions. Well, the sound is not what it used to be, but the soul and the heat which float here make of TRANCEFER an album that should have preceded Dig It instead of following it. But how can we talk about heat with the digital coolness? The answer lies in Wolfgang Tiepold's cello and Michael Shrieve's percussions, these 2 artists will make an album entitled Transfer Station Blue in 1984, who bring heat in these digital ambiences. Both they give to this second essay of the master in the digital spheres a musical depth which enhances an approach that wants to be closer to the paths of old KS than Dig It.
A Few Minutes after Trancefer starts things abruptly with pads of churches' organs veils which spread over an empty movement of which the reverberations weave a painting which welcome nervous chords and keys circulating in random tandem with subtle tones of percussions. The atmosphere gets filled by tears of cellos which shear and caress a movement of which the metallic jolts are twinning with the percussions. This first part offers a great cello/synth dual. Wolfgang T labours his cello which merges with the discreet laments of a synth, giving an intense structural depth and a harmonious heat to a movement with the cold tones of industrial churches. The ghostly pads tear an ambience of thick sheet of steel when the native percussions of Michael Shrieve harpoon A Few Minutes after Trancefer of undisciplined strikes which go marvellously with a movement become indocile, and this in spite of all the synergy between digital sequences, synth pads to tones of organs and discreet bows of WT who pinches his strings of his agile fingers.
A dark veil of mist pushes the intro of Silent Running towards an aura of suspense. Cymbals ring their jingles which sparkle everywhere around synth strata forged in fragrances of mysteries, uniting their spectral lamentations beneath glaucous pulsations. Wolfgang Tiepold tears up the strings of his cello which draws curt and nervous movements, tearing the synthesized twilights which jump under the scattered strikings of the percussions. The movement amplifies on an uncertain pace with a staccato rhythm, like a runner out of breath on a slender thread of alienation, while a delicious crescendo settles down with the jerky lamentations of an aggressive cello of which the bows tear the tranquility of morphic violins. The rhythm increasing gradually the minimalist slope, Silent Running sinks into the spectral veils of a synth which hoots to perdition and in the curt knocks of a cello which drain its strings into an attractive orchestral envelope where the rhythm of percussions drowns there.
The bonus tracks which roll on variable speed are some small strokes of genius! One, because the minimalism movements allows it without altering the melody and two, this allows to catch all the subtlety of their modulations on richer and more powerful musical textures. If A Few Minutes after Trancefer is a bit slower, it doesn't really sound like that because the musical envelope is denser and unctuous. The effect is opposite on Silent Running which goes faster. That leaves me perplexed because the speed removes a lot of charm, except towards the end where cello and synth are sublime. But it doesn’t matter! These remix of the original tracks give us a delicious paradox of TRANCEFER. And the booklet, like SPV reeditions, locks photos and bibliographic notes which decorate more than 70 minutes of creative EM. Again, this is some great Klaus Schulze!
Sylvain Lupari (February 6th, 2007) *****