Wat een geluid, wat een energie, wat een ideeënrijkdom. Fantastische plaat.
Badminton In Tehran
Songs by Zwerm, produced by Rudy Trouvé
29 11 18: Release concert deSingel, Antwerp
06 12 18: deBuren, Brussel
10 05 19: Tivoli/Vredenbrug, Utrecth (with Fred Frith)
11 05 19: Vooruit, Gent (with Fred Frith)
This Heat, Pere Ubu, Pierre Bastien en Red Krayola zijn de sterren, maar grooves doen ook mee.
Wie bands als The Ex kan smaken of, pakweg, de platen op avantgardelabel Unsounds, aarzelt niet!
Zwerm has never strived for a one-sided artistic profile. During the past ten years the quartet dallied between pure noise-impro, English renaissance music and contemporary composed music. The common denominator being not so much a particular stylistic view but rather a shared curiosity, Zwerms projects typically start with the question: 'what would happen if …'
Badminton in Tehran started with the question: 'what would happen if we worked with grooves for a few months?' After that, anything was allowed. We created an online space where each of us could drop personal demos, which could then be used freely by the other members. Within a few months a primordial soup of beats and grooves and little snippets of text was created. And when we started the recording sessions with producer Rudy Trouvé, this served as the raw material out of which 10 new songs were crafted. Badminton in Tehran is the first record in which all tracks are composed by Zwerm and it grooves like a Rube Goldberg-machine – DIY and slightly irregular.
Johannes, Toon, Kobe & Bruno about Badminton In Tehran:
A Wednesday or Thursday afternoon, sitting on a bench in a park in Tehran. Kids run on the grass in between the trees; two girls are having a conversation sitting on a bench across from us; a man and a woman are playing badminton on the path - like people do in parks.
'Badminton in Tehran?' someone suggests.
Since at this moment every second sentence we utter is potentially the name of our new record, we all know it's a title.
It's a nice park. The constant noise of traffic is slightly reduced and there's more oxygen in the air. (Johannes)
What got to me the most in the captivating documentary, “Beats Of The Antonov,” is the spontaneous and natural way the local people of South Sudan were making music. There’s no stage, no separation between audience and performer - There are people and they make music. It’s this spontaneity that might have unconsciously inspired me when making “Badminton in Tehran.” A musical spontaneity without predefined concepts that, for Zwerm, feels like something new. (Toon)
It reminds me of how a former guitar teacher of mine, and avid collector of rare and bizarre instruments, once told me that whenever he's touring he'd often pass by the local guitar shop and ask the owner if he has a 'backroom' where he keeps his weird stuff. Often they do and he would complement his collection with, say, a rusty tuba mouthpiece, a jew's harp, or a stroh-violin, for example. This new Zwerm album feels like a kind of musical equivalent of this 'backroom' full of weirdness and rarities: a sinter, a saz, an old drum with torn skin, a dusty Fender Rhodes, some home made electronic devices and sound effects... The music maybe doesn't have the coherence (and predictability) you would expect from the shiny stratocasters hanging in the front window of the shop, but it grooves quite nicely. And if the word 'groovy' once meant 'having a tendency to routine', Zwerm paradoxically seems to be the least groovy band in the country... (Kobe)
“Badminton in Tehran,” rebellion at its most frivolous, light resistance on a heavy spot, der Groove or Ethio endlessness, moving along with the waves or mabok laut, let me float or let me crawl. (Bruno)
Badminton In Tehran is a production of Zwerm In coproduction with deSingel, with the support of the Flemish Government. With thanks to WALPURGIS
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