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Alexander BERNE (b. 1969)
CD 1
Flickers of Mime: Flicker I [8:16], Flicker II [3:49], Flicker
III [4:51], Flicker IV [5:08], Flicker V [4:00], Flicker VI [4:49],
Flicker VII [4:47], Flicker VIII [4:47], Flicker IX [3:49], Flicker
X [4:16], Flicker XI [4:26]
CD 2
Death of Memes: Meme I [5:06], Meme II [6:16], Meme III [6:41],
Meme IV [6:53], Meme V [5:23], Meme VI [4:19], Meme VII [8:01],
Meme VIII [5:40], Meme IX [4:51]
Alexander Berne and The Abandoned Orchestra
rec. dates not given, Mirabella Studios, Florida
INNOVA 804 [53:34 + 53:16]
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Alexander Berne is a saxophonist, composer and visual artist.
His origins as a musician can be found in the jazz scene, but
with a period exhausting the possibilities of solo performing
in Europe and a further phase back in New York involved in film
production and painting Berne has been on a long journey. One
of his activities is creating his own hybrid musical instruments,
and with clearly a very wide range of influences this double-album
is filled with unique timbres, and much of the material here
is very far removed from even the most experimental of jazz.
There are indeed many remarkable sounds on this release. Berne
works extensively with a variety of techniques to transform
and electronically manipulate sounds, creating vast effects
such as those in Flicker I. This opens with a tremendous,
all-embracing sonority on a chord which sounds more like a grand
conclusion than an opening. I love it. A circus drum-roll and
crash of cymbals heralds surreal but subsumed theatrical drama,
opening out into a cavernous space inhabited by massed and muffled
church bells, the mysterious tinkling of a quasi-piano, elongated
and moody organ tones, an elegiac melodic phrase from a saxophone....
Nothing here is quite what it seems, and the imagination is
set on fire.
These tracks share a cyclic development of material, giving
each its own identity, and constantly creating new effects through
shifting juxtapositions. The saxophone is an important voice
as you would expect, but Alexander Berne isn’t interested in
solo jamming. His tones melt into and emerge from the textures,
a member of the family of sounds it inhabits rather than a prominent
individual. Overdubbing creates a kind of sax-chorale in Flicker
II. A noisy and rather unmusical constantly recurring single
bass note in Flicker III is less appealing, though the
little flock of toy pianos and ethnic sounding recorder-like
instruments are a treat. Flicker IV is steeped in mournful
lament, and we hear Berne’s hybrid ‘saduk’: a cross between
a saxophone and the Armenian duduk. If you like some of Stephan
Micus’s work for the ECM label then this kind of thing will
have great appeal. With fascinating textures and a superb touch
in exploring the suggestive and non-explicit, Alexander Berne
creates a vast aural canvas with his Flickers of Mime.
Jazz moments do jump out on occasion, though the piano in Flicker
VI is more a performance by the revived corpse of Schumann
than the atonal experiment it first appears to be. Chillingly
other-worldly slow-motion tidal waves of doom break over us
in Flicker VII, and Flicker VIII is the first
with a drum beat of any kind, a grinding machine-like loop over
a growling ‘sci-fi’ pedal tone. Not all is slow in Flicker
X, and with interlacing saxophone scales and a bustling
banjo or cimbalom somewhere in the mix this is at times as close
to a mix between Terry Riley and Laraaji as we're likely to
come on this record. Compared to most of the other tracks it’s
a hillbilly car chase. The final Flicker XI opens with
a genuinely disturbing mixture of slow wailing and what sound
like approaching grandfather-clock-clad footsteps, out of which
we are momentarily and periodically helped by more up-beat rhythmic
elements.
In his booklet notes, Lawrence Cosentino describes Flickers
of Mime as tracing a rising arc, and the second disc, Death
of Memes a downward movement of decay. Though there is a
cyclical element I don’t think this arch is a particularly strong
aspect of the structure of the whole - in other words we might
not ‘get it’ in this way if we weren’t told, but if you thought
Flickers of Mime was pretty grim then Death of Memes
will drag out even darker nasties from your subconscious.
Meme I is a grungy soundscape, its bleak features only
spoiled by cheesy ‘boom-boom’ drum beats at what your ancient
Hollywood Roman naval captain would have called ‘ramming speed.’
Berne says of this second tract that “this city you thought
you saw, that this guy could conjure, is culturally on the way
down - the destructive principle, making way for something else.”
As such it could be a soundtrack for our times – at least in
the way all our well paid leaders are culturally on the way
down. The sense of dissolution is expressed in fragmented piano
notes, little swarms of saxophone insects which gather and disperse;
washes of transformed sonority, and further melodic laments.
Meme V is a masterful elegy, the accompanying drone being
slid around by gorgeously crunchy harmonies, the melodic shapes
over the top timeless and exotic. Berne frequently creates atmosphere
from a minimum of means, with Meme III a reduction of
just a few piano notes multi-tracked into an intimate flight
of canonic chiming bird-bells. If you like your sounds spooky,
then Meme VI will take you to the gaping maw of an unknowable
beast’s lair. The final track is like the final chorus of the
great oratorio, the layered voices of the saxophone and other
gentle reed instruments propelling our burning pyre ship into
a horizon-less infinity.
Too dark and uncomfortable to be categorised in the ‘ambient’
section of your local CD emporium, this is the good stuff, and
I support it wholeheartedly. Alexander Berne’s self-made and
superbly produced soundtracks go against the grain of instant
gratification, and take you to the kinds of places you would
normally only expect to find from the intensity of a powerful
novel. The two discs are presented in a stylishly bookish stiff
gatefold finished in suitable blackness.
Dominy Clements
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