Release Date: Jul 3, 2012
Record label: Honest Jon's
Genre(s): Electronic, Club/Dance
The fourth album from Moritz von Oswald Trio in the same number of years, Fetch -- like the studio albums Vertical Ascent and Horizontal Structures -- consists of four lengthy pieces. This time, arranger, and director von Oswald (string boards, electric piano), Vladislav Delay ("otherworld objects," typically percussive in nature), and Max Loderbauer (synthesizer) are joined by Marc Muellbauer (bass), as well as Jonas Schoen (saxophone, bass clarinet, flute) and Sebastian Studnitzky (trumpet). If you glance at the list of instrumentation and are familiar with the trio's previous work, you might not be stunned that this set stirs up flashbacks to early-'70s Herbie Hancock.
For the last three years Moritz von Oswald Trio have focused their groove research on the creation of an improvised and electro-acoustic interface between fusion-era Miles Davis and dub techno. With each new album they've presented a slightly different permutation this interface. The hypnotic sound of their debut, Vertical Ascent, rested upon a skeletal and monochromatic industrial pulse—muscular, yet streamlined.
Moritz Von Oswald, Max Loderbauer (aka NSI and Sun Electric) and Sasu Ripatti (aka Vladislav Delay, Sistol and Luomo) return as the Moritz Von Oswald Trio to deliver their exceptional third studio release, Fetch, on Honest Jon's. The fundamentals of the album were recorded during a four-hour session in August 2011 and feature contributions from ECM's Marc Muellbauer (aka Kaleidoscop) on double bass, returning contributor Tobias Freund, who adds live effects and instrumental overdubs, trumpeter Sebastian Studnitzky and Jonas Schoen on flute, bass clarinet and saxophone. Together they create modern, innovative, fluid free-form jazz and dub-y techno.
There’s a hypothetical nightclub that, at present, exists solely in my imagination: it’s a hybrid combination of the Star Wars bar, the Korova in A Clockwork Orange, and that weirdo Canadian clubhouse from Fire Walk With Me. In it, the barkeeps might serve burbling broths of kombucha and gin, or ayahuasca in a hollowed-out pineapple, shaded by cocktail umbrellas, perhaps with some sort of delectable psychotropic hors d'oeuvres on the side. It would be a place where earthly and celestial creatures of all shapes, sizes, colours, and cultures could commingle and work out their differences in a relaxed, comfortable environment.