Läuten der Seele - Ertrunken im seichtesten Gewässer (2023)

Christian Schoppik's third Läuten Der Seele album in two years is a tape-damaged collage of dusty samples and orchestral flourishes that's inspired by his hazy memories of a hidden canyon in rural Bavaria. One for fans of Stroom, Broadcast, Romance, Akira Rabelais, GAS.

We described Schoppik's self-titled Läuten Der Seele debut as a sort of Bavarian answer to hauntology, with its fantastical patchwork of Deutsche cultural artifacts and disintegrated cinematic swoops. 'Entrunken im seichtesten Gewässer' (drowned in the shallowest stretch of water) is more cautious with its source material, but retains the same Central European historical foundations, dissolving field recordings into violin flourishes, operatic and abstracted, folkish twinkles. This time, Schoppik casts his mind back to his childhood, when small ponds would form in a canyon hidden in the vineyards of Lower Franconia. He remembers being fascinated by the wildlife that was drawn to the reeds and lilypads, and laments the fact that due to climate change, these pools rarely appear any more. He wonders if they were ever really there at all, and crafts two lengthy laments to a disappearing, phantasmagoric world.

Like its predecessors, 'Ertrunken im seichtesten Gewässer' is assembled largely from Schoppik's archive of samples, with vinyl crackle and tape noise working as additional shades in the producer's palette. Bells and whimsical flutes establish the mood on 'Molch, Pfütze, Schilf & Stein', a 20-minute side that's divided into four distinct movements. It's relatively upbeat given the subject matter, Schoppik creates fairytale soundscapes that dance and sing, occasionally interspersed with field recordings that place our feet firmly back on the ground for a moment. His obsession with hazy 20th Century movie soundtracks is still intact too, these little themes bubble above the grumbling noise every so often, punctuated by sparse vocal edits and psychedelic effects.

The second side 'Knochen, Mond, Buchstabe & Tropfen' is a little more wistful; a scramble of brassy squeaks and restrained orchestral swells that transform into rainy, pregnant slabs of sound. When Schoppik strips his sound back it's most effective, feeding distant church choirs and disquieting footsteps into his gauzy matrix. Heard together, these sounds tell a complex story that tracks through German history with a critical ear, juxtaposing high and low culture and creating soundscapes that are as light and airy as a half-remembered dream.

Tracklist:
1.01 - Läuten der Seele - Molch, Pfütze, Schilf & Stein (20:02)
1.02 - Läuten der Seele - Knochen, Mond, Buchstabe & Tropfen (20:23)