[Reviewed by: Iaha Crax]
The Berlin-based creators of Column One had been involved in short films and underground media projects before choosing to incorporate sounds and noises in their artistic medium. With the help of other guest members Rene Lamp, Robert Schalinski, Jürgen Eckloff and Andrew Loadman operate as a multimedia collective experimenting in the field of industrial music. On this record they had Nada and Rasmus Schalinski together with Reinhold Friedl and Zeitkratzer Ensemble.
In their rich discography, which might be a curious and destabilizing adventure for everyone open to taste it, “Cindy, Loraine & Hank” is dated from 2015 and appeared on the Berlin label 90% Wasser. Music-wise this double album, displays the complicated relations between allegedly heterogeneous sounds and noises. Its great strangeness should alienate many of the unfamiliar listeners to the extent that one could consider it mainly mumbo-jumbo. On the other hand, a simple-minded hipster psychoanalyst would greatly enjoy this very sound extension of his desires and Freudian slips.
In fact, the amalgam of musical geometry has maintained a discernible, lovely narrative, especially due to a great mastering of the devices employed for releasing it and to the light and diamond-like cut production of the album. “Cindy, Loraine & Hank” is a wonderful dadaistic record with a hue of surrealist imagery.
The music is organized or convoluted around figures of paralytics, those that popular opinion would call monsters, ogres or idiots depending on perspective. Like in Michel Tournier’s book, The Earl king, where the ogre is the bearer of innocents, the sounds are soft and delicate, in keeping with the electro-acoustic style premiered by Pierre Schaeffer and quite popular in post-war Germany. The usual combination between recorded sound and processed sound is not so visible as Column One prefers a live acoustic materialized by an uncommon use of the most uncommon instruments, cut-ups and collages.
“Cindy, Loraine & Hank” stretches along 90 minutes and disorientates at every moment. Words escape their etymological prison so that every now and then you seem to taste and regurgitate a surprising meaning. In our fragmented world, such ambiguities of liquidity are perhaps the type of music an alien lifeform would hear coming out from Earth.