Liederkreis Liederkreis, The Clean Getaway
Liederkreis
Liederkreis
(B. Walter Recordings)
NYC keyboardist, singer and composer Judith Berkson has made a bold musical move with her one-woman-band Liederkreis, which is radically different than her two solo albums, Lu-Lu and Oylam, released under her own name.
While Lu-Lu had a relatively conventional voice/keyboard approach in showtune/jazz-standard territory, Oylam (on the noted ECM label) pushed further to include Jewish choral and Yiddish folk music.
Now, with the self-titled debut from Liederkreis, Berkson combines keyboard experimentation, noise, and feedback, and takes inspiration from composer Robert Schumann and German electronic music. The only real constant across these three albums is that each includes a classic Lied—a German song poem—demonstrating Berkson’s love for the centuries-old genre.
The album begins with puzzling clip-clop sounds before piercing feedback and severely distorted chords enter the picture, creating an unyieldingly harsh yet compelling piece. “June” pairs vocal outbursts with keyboard zaps, with irregular lengths of silence to create an unusual tension, perhaps evoking some kind of shock-based torture method applied to a small choir.
The slightly sinister “Bela” offers an electric piano riff played over a looped synth abstraction, while the pummeling bizarro-funk of “ISI” uses a stuttering drum kit sample and a single keyboard chord mostly played in unison with the bass drum to give it an extra punch.
Liederkreis translated means “song cycle,” and in this case, it refers to Robert Schumann’s “Liederkreis, Op. 39” from which the song “Auf einer Burg” (“In a Castle”) is taken. The album’s most conventional track, it features Berkson singing in German with a solemn beauty accompanied by electric piano, describing an aging knight sitting in solitude, separated from nature and human celebrations.
Liederkreis is a curveball for those who know Berkson’s cantorial work or her takes on well-known standards, but for this writer, it’s her most intriguing and stimulating album so far with an uncompromising vision
The Clean
Getaway
(Merge)
The New Zealand trio The Clean is one of those “in the know” indie-rock bands that seems to be absolutely loved by everyone who has heard them. Anecdotally, while this writer has encountered people who improbably dislike the Beatles, he has never encountered anyone who has not had a positive, even rapturous response when The Clean is brought up.
The group, featuring brothers David and Hamish Kilgour with Robert Scott (also of The Bats), had a remarkable run in the early ‘80s on Flying Nun Records, with songs like “Tally Ho!” and “Odditty” that are propulsive blasts of pure low-fidelity joy.
After disbanding then reuniting in 1989, the sound quality of the band’s recordings improved (starting with the album Vehicle) without sacrificing its spirit, and the generous 2-CD compilation Anthology is a perfect entry point for newcomers. However, Anthology only covers the band’s material up to 1996’s Unknown Country, and as the new deluxe edition of 2001’s Getaway demonstrates, The Clean never stopped making great albums.
From the ambling, lightly-distorted electric guitar chugs of the opening “Stars,” indie-rock brethren such as Pavement might come to mind, but realize that The Clean influenced Pavement, rather than the other way around.
Continuing this gentle sauntering is “Crazy,” which evokes a sort of Velvet Underground/Yo La Tengo vibe, and speaking of Yo La Tengo, Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley of that group make guest appearances on two tracks.
The closing two-minute burst of “Complications” echoes the catchy momentum of the group’s earlier material, driven by Hamish Kilgour’s juggernaut-like drumming.
This 15th anniversary edition is remastered and includes a bonus CD (included with both the vinyl and CD versions) featuring two rare live albums, Slush Fund (sometimes prominently featuring piano parts) and Syd’s Pink Wiring System.
The bonus material is appreciated but not revelatory, being a little rougher and looser than the studio material, and unfortunately, a great, fully-charged 9-minute version of “Point That Thing Somewhere Else” had to be omitted from the CD for space reasons (it’s available only on the digital download/streaming version).
Still, this new edition of Getaway is welcome, demonstrating that continued digging beyond the “best of” compilations reaps benefits, when it comes to The Clean.