UnQuiet #3 (September 2024): A L'ARME! Festival
A few reflections on my time at the 12th and final edition of Berlin's A L'ARME! Festival, plus 10 recommended albums by artists who performed at it.
At the start of August, I had the profound pleasure of attending the 12th and final edition of A L’ARME! Festival in Berlin. Organised by Louis Rastig and Karina Mertin, and hosted at the beautiful Radialsystem venue on the banks of the Spree, the festival “has continually offered new perspectives on jazz, noise, and experimental music and paved the way for unexpected collaborations far beyond the field of music, thereby influencing an entire generation of listeners.” Indeed, it was a three-day trip through some of the most exciting, thought-provoking and boundary-pushing performances I have ever witnessed in my many years of gig-going. The lineup was perfectly curated (check out the full thing here): from the hieratic noise of Keiji Haino to the floor-rattling techno of Byetone, the quality almost never dipped across the festival’s whopping 20+ hour runtime. Furthermore, my excitement about finally seeing some of my idols in the flesh was matched with a deep curiosity about the acts I’d never heard of before (who were, in fact, the majority of the roster). Thankfully, I was not disappointed; I came away with a notebook teeming with new names to check out.
As both a listener and a musician, I found the entire weekend uniquely inspiring because of two overarching approaches that I felt underpinned the performances. The first of these was a strong emphasis on improvisation and spontaneity. While this element was perhaps a given at an event like A L’ARME, I was particularly struck by just how effectively, viscerally and uniquely each musician seemed to flourish in their own self-expression and creative instinct. Each slot was truly something singular, even on the occasions where the same musicians cropped up in different ensembles. The other thing which impressed me was the fact that everyone seemed to be continually testing and stretching the limits of their equipment. I don’t just mean the likes of Keiji Haino and Caspar Brötzmann, for whom the sheer volume of their sets was a highlight, but also artists such as Leila Bordreuil, who skilfully crafted an amorphous soundscape almost entirely out of her cello’s feedback, and drummer Christian Lillinger, whose machine-precise rhythms turned his kit into a vast, whirring factory. Inventiveness of such high calibre is not something you come across very often, so being continually presented with it - three nights in a row! - was something special indeed.
This edition of A L’ARME was also particularly emotional for two reasons: first, because it was the last one ever (due to a very unfortunate lack of future funding); and second, because the Saturday night was envisioned as a touching memorial to party organiser Monika Döring, a stalwart of Berlin’s experimental scene who sadly passed away in May. These factors imbued the weekend with profoundly bittersweet overtones, which the event’s official description summed up perfectly:
“This is not an obituary. After all, the strongest signals are often sent out right before something comes to an end.” / “…it is a call to arms, an imperative. The end of this festival is a statement and a powerful signal. It demands to be heard. Its reverberations will be felt.”
I travelled to and from A L’ARME by bus, meaning that I essentially had two 13-hour listening sessions during which I could dig deep into the performers’ back catalogues. As such, I decided to use this issue of UnQuiet to highlight 10 of the most striking albums that I listened to over the course of the trip.
Before I begin, though, I’d like to say a massive thank you to all the people who made my stay in Berlin so enjoyable. Special thanks are due to Andy, Ben, Filippo, Jelle, Kevin, Lorenzo and Victoria for the company, coffee and good times - you guys are the best!
Keiji Haino - Black Blues (2004 / reissued by Room40 in August 2024)
avant-folk, noise rock
https://room40.bandcamp.com/album/black-blues
A few moments before the first of Haino’s two sets at A L’ARME, someone asked my friend what to expect. “He’s a magician” was his only response, and rightly so. It would be futile to try to fit the astonishing diversity of Haino’s music into a box, minutes before he comes on stage and inevitably blows that very same box to pieces. The only guarantee was that we were about to witness a form of magic - and boy, did we. Haino, cloaked in priestly black and donning his signature tinted sunglasses, mounted the stage alongside Argentine sax alchemist Sofía Salvo and legendary Norwegian free jazz drummer Paal Nilssen-Love. What followed was an hour of uninhibited exploration, with Haino guiding his companions through a whirlwind of violent guitar spasms, murmured vocals, noise loops and - of course - copious layers of feedback. While I half expected a non-stop barrage of sound, I was pleasantly surprised by how expertly all three musicians juggled silence and chaos, concocting breathtaking tensions through a slow-moving series of troughs and peaks.
Haino’s second appearance at the festival (a solo set on the Saturday night) was similarly striking in its range of intensities. It began with a thundering introduction of improvised synth-noise, flowed into a lengthy guitar and vocal section, and finished with Haino attacking a cymbal with a hammer while fericously pouncing up and down on a mic’d-up wooden plank at the front of the stage. Sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming, sometimes plucking and sometimes pulverising, our maestro kept the crowd hypnotised and tentatively hanging on to every note. I’m not sure exactly how to put it, but he seemed to effortlessly conjure sound, continually pulling waves from the ether and channeling them into the room. Truly mesmerising stuff.
Originally released in 2004 and recently reissued by Lawrence English’s Room40 label, Black Blues perfectly encapsulates the two extremes of Haino’s range. It is a collection of six tracks played twice each: once gently (“Soft”) and once aggressively (“Violent”). The “Soft” songs are at once soothing and eerie, with Haino’s glistening guitar lines cradling his hushed and harrowed voice. Each piece resounds with torment, endlessly invoking and reworking ancient folk laments and mourning songs. The “Soft” rendition of Blind Lemon Jefferson’s classic “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean,” which drips with dread and suspense, is definitely a highlight. The “Violent” side, on the other hand, takes the same pieces and blows them apart, wrapping the listener in a jagged blanket of screeching drones, percussive guitar strikes and anguished screams. The difference between the two sides is astonishing; after all - if I haven’t already made it clear - Haino is the reigning king of contrast.
This comes highly recommended. A sincerely distinctive and unparalleled record.
I LIKE TO SLEEP - Bedmonster’s Groove (2024)
free jazz, power jazz, prog rock
https://iliketosleep.bandcamp.com/album/bedmonsters-groove
Trondheim’s I LIKE TO SLEEP - a self-proclaimed “powerjazz” trio - comprises vibraphonist Amund Storløkken Åse, baritone guitarist Nicolas Leirtrø and drummer Øyvind Leite (all of whom are well-established players in the Norwegian jazz scene). I hadn’t heard of them previously, but I ended up absolutely loving their set (in fact, it was a sure favourite among everyone I spoke to that night). It was an ever-shifting melting pot of intricate grooves, roaring powerchords and tremulous percussive runs; kinetic components which would fall apart as quickly as they regrouped again. The trio’s sound was exciting in its diversity: sometimes Leirtrø’s guitar lines veered into doom metal territory, while in other moments the group’s tangled rhythms seemed to evoke the disciplined time-keeping of 75 Dollar Bill or Horse Lords (though with an intensity entirely of its own).
Though Bedmonster’s Groove is definitely more structured than their live performance was, it is a delightful release that nonetheless capture’s the group’s energy and originality. I particularly love the keyboards (Oberheim OB8, Mellotron), which add an extra layer of atmosphere to the mix. The production is great too, with the vibraphone cutting clearly through the murky backdrop lain by the guitar and drums. Intriguingly, it was also mastered by dark ambient legend Deathprod.
Also, for being an improvised, heavy jazz record, Bedmonster’s Groove includes some unexpectedly catchy moments - the title track’s main melody has been stuck in my head for weeks. Infectious stuff.
Leila Bordreuil - Headflush (2019)
free improv, noise, sound art
https://leilabordreuil.bandcamp.com/album/headflush
Brooklyn-based sound artist Leila Bordreuil had the rather daunting task of opening the entire festival, and she did a remarkable job of it. Gently rocking her cello back and forth, she generated waves of cavernous feedback which were then progressively warped and mangled through a case of modular gear. The set followed a particularly lovely trajectory, beginning with glacial, atmospheric drones which variously rose and fell before exploding into a brisk finale of full-bore harsh noise. At times, as Bordreuil tactfully repositioned a microphone or fiddled around with her effects, it almost appeared as if she was as surprised at the resulting sonic shifts as we, the audience, were. This, in my opinion, is what free improv is all about: seeing and hearing such tentative, exploratory gestures unfold in real-time was simply exhilarating.
Headflush, released on Catch Wave back in 2019, is a collection of five unprocessed cello pieces which were recorded over the course of a single afternoon. The final product is a thoroughly bewitching record. Hardly ever does a discernible melody creep through, and rarely can you even tell that it’s a cello being played; instead, Bordreuil’s expert navigation of extended techniques presents us with a host of gloriously thick and gloomy atmospheres. To me, the drawn-out overtones seem to evoke a barren desert plain which quivers and thuds with sorrowful, dissonant thunder. The album’s press release uses more ephemeral imagery, suggesting that it “could leave the listener wondering if they were perhaps listening to amplified smoke; twisting, turning, and dancing in some strange light.” Close your eyes, press play, and discover the images it plants in your mind.
Frank Bretschneider - Pounding (2024)
electronic, glitch, minimal techno
https://raster-raster.bandcamp.com/album/pounding
Raster-Noton co-founder and glitch techno pioneer Frank Bretschneider played a sublime set on the festival’s final night. Hunched over a sprawling mass of cables, he bombarded the crowd with his signature blend of restless hums, pulses and clicks. Though the set began with a beautifully airy introduction, I was pleasantly surprised at how danceable it ended up becoming once Bretschneider started gluing everything together with an onslaught of outrageously boomy kicks. This was an atypically fluid, angular manifestation of club music: although a series of spirited grooves emerged, each one was only allowed a few moments to breathe before being ingeniously turned inside-out and mangled into the next.
The unpredictable and elastic energy of Bretschneider’s live show is nicely captured on his latest studio offering, the aptly-named Pounding. From the relentlessly repetitive bass line of “Here We Go” to the turbulent electroacoustic murmurs of “Zone,” the album is full of intriguing experiments in compositional precarity. On almost every track, clever and calculated delay manipulations construct an ever-present veneer of ambient microgrooves, which makes every second feel like a moment of flux. A heady journey through tightly-controlled instability.
Gudrun Gut & Mabe Fratti - Let’s Talk About The Weather (2021)
electronic, art pop, ambient, electroacoustic
https://umorrex.bandcamp.com/album/lets-talk-about-the-weather
Gudrun Gut is certainly someone whose reputation precedes her: founding member of Neue Deutsche Welle pioneers Mania D and experimental feminist rockers Malaria!, early member of Einstürzende Neubauten, close friend of Monika Döring, head of the independent label Monika Enterprise, and a pioneering solo artist in her own right, her “story spans many years, scenes, and sounds” (https://www.gudrungut.com/bio/). As such, I was particularly curious about seeing her play (in Berlin, no less!). To my delight, her set was something of a career retrospective: Gut led the crowd on a lively and meandering expedition through classic new wave motifs, disorienting folk samples, drawling vocals and buzzing synths. It was certainly among the most accessible performances of the weekend, but I welcomed this as a refreshing break rather than as a deviation. It appears that everyone else did, too: although I heard a handful of people complaining that it was a bit old-fashioned (a fair criticism I guess, but then again Gut was a pioneer of those sounds in the first place), most of the crowd were up the front dancing the whole way through. What it perhaps lacked in experimentalism, it more than made up for in fun.
Some of the set’s stand-out tracks were pulled from Let’s Talk About The Weather, Gut’s virtual collaboration with Guatemalan cellist Mabe Fratti. Recorded remotely during lockdown in 2021, the album sees both artists pair their pop sensibilities with some intriguing sound design; most notably, the interpolation of field recordings from their respective hometowns - a decision directly inspired by the experience of quarantine - adds a welcome element of space and ambience to the songs’ otherwise rigid rhythmic structures. Opener “Aufregend” and the self-titled closing suite are highlights. Notably, the album was mastered by microhouse/techno luminary John Tejada (who, coincidentally, wrote one of my all-time favourite dance tracks).
Christian Lillinger - The Meinl Session (2019)
free jazz, free improv
https://plaist.bandcamp.com/album/christian-lillinger-the-meinl-session
German percussion wizard Christian Lillinger performed alongside Austrian pianist Elias Stemeseder on the first day of A L’ARME. The duo, presenting their new project Antumbra, produced a glorious din of robotic trills, serialist piano stabs and psychedelic electronics, accentuated by stunning visuals which continually sped round a looming cubic screen in the smaller of the venue’s two halls. It was an intoxicatingly abstract melting pot of different styles, schools and techniques: once, as Stemeseder laid down some krautrock-inflected keyboard lines, Lillinger responded with convulsing jungle breaks; later, Stemeseder’s cartoonish bass notes were pushed aside by Lillinger’s crushing noise loops. To lift a line from elsehwere, Martin Schray’s review of the evening for The Free Jazz Collective sums up Lillinger’s stage presence perfectly:
“Christian Lillinger was almost unstoppable, nothing could keep him on his drum seat, he kept jumping up, jerking left and right. His twirls happened at the speed of light, it was hard to believe that there was no machine at work here.” (https://www.freejazzblog.org/2024/08/a-larme-xii-finale-day-1.html)
The set made left a huge impression on me, so I immediately checked out out some of Lillinger’s back catalogue on the bus ride back to Italy. I really enjoyed some of his ensemble work (for example, I adored this frantic record with Kaja Draksler and Petter Eldh), but The Meinl Session particularly caught my attention because it’s a live solo performance which starkly demonstrates his prowess as a percussionist. The pieces are rather short - some last less than a minute - and each one represents a kinetic burst of inspiration. “Setting III,” with its hyper-anxious kick groove, is a definite highlight.
Jan Jelinek & Sven-Åke Johansson - puls-plus-puls (2018)
free jazz, free improv, electronic, echtzeitmusik
https://nivuniconnu.bandcamp.com/album/puls-plus-puls
Aside from Keiji Haino, Jan Jelinek was the artist I was most excited about seeing at the festival. His uniquely crackly minimal electronica has been a huge inspiration to me ever since I discovered Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records and Textstar many moons ago. To make matters even more exciting, he was performing with his longtime collaborator: veteran free jazz drummer Sven-Åke Johansson (who played on Peter Brötzmann’s Machine Gun amongst many other things). Getting to see these two decorated dignitaries of the avant-garde - from two very different generations, too - was rather special indeed. Their set was perhaps the most subdued and cool-headed performance of the entire festival. Unlike some of the other acts, the pair did not rely on sheer volume or intensity: rather, they crafted a diligent and airy dreamscape, with Jelinek carefully shaping warm modular drones while Johansson’s brushes produced a soft and shimmering veil of cymbal rolls. Despite their timbral tranquility, Johansson’s gestures were markedly animated and vibrant (especially considering the fact that he’s over 80 years old and had to be assisted to and from his kit).
Listening to duo’s collaborative LP puls-plus-puls is probably the closest possible thing to rewatching their A L’ARME performance, not least because it was recorded in the same room some years prior. It is a delightful half-hour of what they do best: Jelinek’s bubbly synths carve out vast spaces for Johansson’s fluttering rhythms to inhabit, and the combination is breathtaking. It’s incredible how well their respective idiosyncrasies compliment each other. It’s another perfect nighttime bus-ride soundtrack.
Sofía Salvo - ROTAROTA (2024)
free jazz, free improv
https://relativepitchrecords.bandcamp.com/album/rotarota
Baritone sax savant Sofía Salvo popped up twice at A L’ARME: once as part of Keiji Haino’s ensemble (as mentioned above), and once as part of the world premiere of her explosive new project Yexxen (featuring Claire Nico on lap steel, Guido Kohn on bass and the frankly terrifying Bobby Glew on drums). In both settings, Salvo appeared as a beacon of pure energy, stomping defiantly around the stage and barraging the crowd with an alternating series of deep, flustered tones and unfettered, riotous squeals. At times, the uncompromising ferocity of her playing reminded me of the great no-wave saxophonists (James Chance, Daniel Galli-Duani et al).
ROTAROTA, Salvo’s most recent release, beautifully captures the vastness of her sonic range. The first track, “Un ejemplo,” comprises 4 minutes of skull-shaking, breathy drones which evoke the baritone mantras characteristic of Bön ritual music. As soon as it’s over, we’re presented with the frenzied skronks of “Mas claro.” The rest of the album continues in this way, frequently shifting between measured ambient meditations and spontaneous, effervescent bursts of noise. Being a collection of unedited solo performances, it’s a fascinatingly intimate listen and perhaps the perfect introduction to a truly remarkable player.
Byetone - Symeta (2011)
electronic, minimal techno, glitch
https://raster-raster.bandcamp.com/album/symeta
On the festival’s final night, Olaf Bender - another Raster-Noton alum and member of minimal techno explorers Produkt and Signal - played a hard-hitting set under his pseudonym Byetone. It was a rather transportive experience: I stood at the side of the stage for most of the show, and whenever I looked out into the crowd I kept feeling like we were in a proper club instead of a concert hall. A wall of monumental kicks supported an endless stream of dense, static-laden synths as Bender convulsed against a backdrop of erratically flickering black-and-white lines. Meanwhile, everyone in the crowd was bouncing emphatically in the gloom. Similar to Gudrun Gut’s set the same evening, it was definitely among the most accessible performances of the entire festival, but this was a well-timed respite: considering the fact that it was around 11pm on a Saturday night, it provided a much-needed boost of energy.
Symeta is one of Bender’s few full-lengths as Byetone. Released on Raster-Noton in 2011, it packs a punch from start to finish. From the funk-laden bass lead of “T-E-L-E-G-R-a-M-M” to the blown-out, distorted blasts of “Helix,” the energy never lets up. In true Raster-Noton style, it’s compositionally very minimal: most tracks are built around one bass synth, a drum track and some warbly ambience. Nonetheless, every track is full of raw power, teeming with bulldozing overdrive and brain-squeezing compression. This is how it’s done.
Farida Amadou - READING EYES AND FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (2021)
free improv, free jazz, noise rock
https://farida-amadou.bandcamp.com/album/reading-eyes-and-facial-expressions
Belgium-based bassist Farida Amadou is hands-down one of the most exciting presences on the contemporary improvisation scene. After a brief stint with noise punks Cocaine Piss, she’s been forging an illustrious path as an improviser - collaborating with such luminaries as Thurston Moore, Peter Brötzmann, Lukas König, and Moor Mother. At A L’ARME, she performed as part of an electric bass duo with Caspar Brötzmann, and together they crafted a beautifully relentless storm of wall-juddering sound pressure. Brötzmann played a half-hour set before Amadou came on and, to be frank, it became a whole lot more interesting when she joined in. As a bassist myself, I was thoroughly impressed at how unconventional her playing was: her hands were frenetically moving around the instrument, sometimes scraping the bridge, sometimes attacking the headstock, continually pummelling the strings and drawing forth a righteous din of growls and shrieks. I kept thinking that I’d never even think about using those techniques, but I very much wish I would.
READING EYES AND FACIAL EXPRESSIONS is a snapshot of virtuosic - if altogether unconventional - self-expression. Amadou’s bass sings with harmonious rattles and fuzzed-out powerchords, crafting atmospheres as expansive as they are unpredictable. As Cafe OTO put it: “Terse melodies, harmonic shards and rumbling patterns are sewed together in elapsing incendiary phrases” (https://www.cafeoto.co.uk/shop/farida-amadou-reading-eyes-and-facial-expressions/). It’s a provocative document of an artist at the peak of her powers.
If you’d like to check out any of the releases mentioned above, I’ve compiled links to them into a handy list on Buy Music Club.
Event Highlight:
Weird & Wired ft. TIFF, Fiendz YT & The Kidney Flowers
The Old Hairdresser’s / Glasgow, Scotland / Friday 13th September
£8 entry
For my Scottish readers:
On September 13th, the DIY mavericks behind Weird & Wired return to The Old Hairdresser’s with a night of punk, noise and live electronics. Take it from me, these folks are at the vanguard of the UK’s sonic underground, and they know exactly what they’re doing. In their own words:
“First up is TIFF, a scratchy NOISY synth wizard who you'll have a hard time to not stomp about to as they mesmerize you with their distorted bleeps and bloops.
Fiendz are whacked out, fast paced punks that bang out their tracks at a million bpm. You'll be jumping round the dancefloor like a chimpanzee listening to The Cramps in the middle of the jungle. @fiendz_yt
Finally we have The Kidney Flowers. Yeah?. Surf-style riffs? Check. Slamming floor toms? Check. Crazed frontman, who legend has it, obtained his super-charged aura when he was 2 years old and suffered a world-record number of kidneys stones at once? CHECK! @thekidneyflowers”
A Little Bit of Tasteless Self-Promotion
I recently released a new album called “Skein.” It’s my first noise release in quite a long time, and I’m very happy to be able to share it with you all. Here’s a little statement I wrote about it around the time of release:
"This album is perhaps my first truly 'experimental' work in years. My recent releases, though sonically abstract, have always been rather carefully composed; “Skein,” on the other hand, was borne out of a series of deliberately unpredictable experiments in virtual modular synthesis. I used a completely new setup, shunning the comfort of my usual DAW and instead building a series of patches which let me directly feel around with different frequencies to see how they'd interact with each other. The resulting pieces, presented here, are the fruits of this process, and they remain exactly as they arose (with no edits, cuts or overdubs). Furthermore, the music, album art and track titles are derived from the many things that I've found inspiring recently: Salerno, Berlin, the films of Alice Rohrwacher, Don DeLillo's Libra, Alasdair Gray's 1982, Janine, Keiji Haino, and the lives of the Celtic saints.”
Check it out here: https://deadhound.bandcamp.com/album/skein
A quick note about internet radio:
If, like me, you’re always on the hunt for interesting music, please consider supporting the invaluable work done by radio stations such as:
EHFM (Edinburgh)
Subcity Radio (Glasgow)
Lahmacun Radio (Budapest)
Subscribing to UnQuiet is completely free. However, if you’d like to support my work in a more material way, consider buying me a coffee!
Ollie Turbitt is a Scottish-Italian musician, sound artist, and audio engineer based in Trento, Italy. He runs the experimental net label Dead Hound Records & works in freelance mixing/mastering.
https://ollieturbitt.tumblr.com
ollie@turbitt.co.uk