- PIAS 39223302CD PIAS 39223301LP
With each album, Bohren Und Der Club Of Gore are further approaching the end of the world. There is no documentation of how Morten Gass, Thorsten Benning, Robin Rodenberg left M?lheim an der Ruhr, how they buried their own past as hardcore legend 7 Inch Boots, and how they began to explore the boundaries of time and endless darkness. Perhaps they met one night, in the shade of trees, beneath a cloudy death moon. A rising storm may have carried the howling of wolves or the flutter of black wings. This is the twilight zone of the Bohren mystery, where inconclusive evidence and hearsay strengthen the power of the dark secret. The dark secret: A few scattered film quotes were dragged into the shade without much fuss on their moody debut hit 'Gore Motel'. They called it 'horror jazz'. The addition of Christoph Cl?ser's saxophone brought a deceiving sheen to Bohren 's quicksand of the 'dark mainstream'. On the 'Dark Victory' tour that followed, Bohren expanded their arsenal of horror, in half darkness, with chains dangling from the ceiling like meat hooks. A cold breath could be felt. Morten: 'The goal was to create a quiet heaviness, which is otherwise only achieved using distorted guitars and lots of noise.' Bohren's trip into darkness has found the parking space closest to purgatory yet. The color particles of once-upon-a-time have finally been ground to dust. No kidding around, no excuses, just drums creeping forward with the brushes, the trademark Bohren double bass, detuned to gloomy depths, and with it Fender Rhodes, saxophone and Melotron — for the film in your head and the knife in your back. The various parallel worlds of the Bohren universe flow together into a single seductive stream of blackest velvet. Bohren project the listener back to the horrors of one's own imagination. Chromed bone torches rummage through the scarlet-red shadows. It prefers to remain unnamed. The bridge between Black Sabbath, Autopsy and the smile of Sade. an understanding of the dark side of pop culture. Reduced, abstracted. Cast into timeless shapes. Preserved for eternity. In their early days they burnt their silhouettes onto audiences' retinas with the flickering light of the stroboscope. Now that switch remains turned off, and the senses must get accustomed to a new, intangible darkness. Time is on their side.