Release Date: Feb 7, 2012
Record label: Smalltown Supersound
Genre(s): Electronic, Experimental Techno
Hans-Peter Lindstrøm's ecstatic synth disco occupies a stylin' cyborg middle ground between Daft Punk and Air; he's remixed LCD Soundsystem and transformed Bethany Cosentino into a bedroom-mirror dance diva on a reworking of Best Coast’s "Boyfriend." The Norwegian DJ's third solo LP conjures the Eighties Midwestern art funk of Prince and Was (Not Was) in a miasmatic mix of club grooves. On "Magik" and "Quiet Place to Live," barely intelligible lyrics are like neon signage: more color than meaning, but seductive enough to lure you in and keep you there. Listen to "De Javu": Related• Photos: Random Notes .
Hans-Peter Lindstrøm is a producer. His own albums, in particular, have him pulling out tunes with more rasp and a more earthen, harder funk than his cosmic dance sets, as we hear here. Opener “No Release” is styled a la Steve Reich, a cascade of church organ that jumps into the late ’80s/early ’90s pop-dance of “De Javu,” which has the infectiousness of C+C Music Factory.
Hans-Peter Lindstrøm is back with what's technically only his second "proper" solo album, and it is a feisty one. The unpredictable Norwegian producer seems to be taking some cues here from his labelmates (and sometime-remix cronies), the prog pranksters Mungolian Jet Set; Six Cups of Rebel is chock-full of the kind of bizarre, cartoonish, sci-fi lunacy and cheekily maximalist, gonzo musical odysseys they've made their stock-in-trade. In particular, the album is animated by a virtual armada of goofy, muppet-like voices -- most or all of which are Lindstrøm's own, tweaked and twisted in ways even the Knife might find extreme.
LindstrømSix Cups of Rebel[Smalltown Supersound; 2012]By Brendan Frank; February 7, 2012Purchase at: Insound (Vinyl) | Amazon (MP3 & CD) | iTunes | MOGTweetFor a guy who made his name remixing the works of well-to-do artists, Lindstrøm’s penchant for innovation is much greater than many may have initially thought. The Norweigian’s latest is a touch less accessible than his previous releases, dabbling in drone, his own pitch-shifted vocals, guitar effects and Space Odyssey mindfucks, but there continues to be an edge, a seeming desire to refrain from borrowing too many elements from any particular genre. Six Cups of Rebel is less-than-danceable in places, but that won’t be why you like or dislike it.
Hans-Peter Lindstrøm's sophomore solo album follows pop-leaning collaborative efforts with Prins Thomas and Christabelle. Both side projects saw the Norwegian disco/techno/electro producer not so much expanding his oeuvre, but constricting it to a shaft of oftentimes brilliant light. Six Cups of Rebel takes its title seriously and atomizes the notion of a techno-leaning space-disco release.
“I Feel Space”, Lindstrøm’s thrilling breakthrough hit was titled, but by the time his debut full-length Where You Go I Go Too dropped in 2008, he positively embodied it. This was truly space-disco at its most expansive: a patter of twinkly electronics seemed to transport us to a distant sheen of stars, a bass fluctuation to wisp us past a supernova, a fleeting synth to guide us through the birth and death of a star. Fast-forward to 2010, however, and the Norwegian producer had come firmly down to earth.
Lindstrøm's second proper solo album, Six Cups of Rebel, does away with both the taut sexiness of his early work and the warm yacht breezes of Where You Go I Go Too in favor of something more bombastic but strangely cloistered. The pressure here builds and builds, but rather than taking flight, tracks like "De Javu" struggle with a misdirected explosion of percussion that flattens out into a farty bass riff smothered in layers of percussion. It's bloated, lifeless, and weighed down with its own multi-tracked mayhem, a thick, wet coat of gloss dragging propulsion down to a crawl more than anything else.
Three and a half years have passed since the release of Lindstrøm’s debut full-length proper, the masterful Where You Go I Go Too, and I still can’t get enough of it. Its epic prog-disco was an especially satisfying example of control and release; it showed ambient techno steadily and ….
Three and a half years have passed since the release of Lindstrøm’s debut full-length proper, the masterful Where You Go I Go Too, and I still can’t get enough of it. Its epic prog-disco was an especially satisfying example of control and release; it showed ambient techno steadily and sometimes imperceptibly morphing into something huger, all the suspense making the climaxes sound even more tremendous. So, is Lindstrøm trying to distance himself from those epic proportions? Six Cups of Rebel certainly seems that way, with seven tracks that almost resemble a roll-call of his diverse influences.
Bursting onto the Norwegian scene in 2002 with his own record label, Feedelity, LindstrÃ¸m has since composed a steady stream of stylistically funky, bass-heavy mixes. His latest effort, Six Cups of Rebel, represents a divergence from the dreaminess of the old (i.e. 2006’s It’s a Feedelity Affair), and is a curt but exploratory vision into the mind of a musical pioneer.
Six Cups of Rebel sees Norwegian producer Hans-Peter Lindstrøm ditching the long, drawn-out grooves of Where You Go I Go Too and the more modern characteristics of Real Life Is No Cool for a blend of Balearic jazz-disco that, at times, evokes the synth-heavy side of '70s Zappa ("Call Me Anytime"). Lindstrøm's cosmic fusion of synthesized and organic sounds accompanies the producer's vocals for the first time, despite his assertion that he's "no vocalist. " Simple lyrical phrases dominate the album, most notably in the falsetto mantra of "Magik," in which Lindstrøm asks, "What kind of magic do you do?" and the repeating assertions of "All I Want is a Quiet Place to Live.
It’s unexpected that an electronic album would kick off with a spine-chilling organ number; however, that is exactly how Six Cups Of Rebel, the fourth studio album from Norway’s Hans-Peter Lindstrøm, begins. “No Release,” the five-minute organ opening, was recorded in Lindstrøm’s own studio by combining MIDI-organs and an artificial church organ. The result: a Dracula-like track that develops more and more layers of sound as it goes on, taking the listener from an eerie to a magical space-like world all in one song.
Something of an experimental misfire from the Norwegian producer. Alex Denney 2012 Hans-Peter Lindstrøm isn’t all that sure about the record he’s just made. "I think this album might be hard for my label," he demurred in a recent interview. "I think I’ve gone further out than before, but I’m not sure if it’s for the best." It’s an alarmingly frank confession from a man whose last solo release’s first track ran to a whopping 29 minutes in length.