20 minute double sided cassette
+ mp3 (download code)
About the artist: Telekaster is Berlin-based musician Matthias Grübel and video-artist Stefan Bünnig. Together they create a universe of abstract narration and associative beauty consisting of Grübel’s shimmering noisy soundscapes and Bünnig’s perfectly crafted yet always universally minimal real-film sequences.
Telekaster’s new cassette-only release At how many beats per life begins by conjuring a hazy aura that quickly mushrooms into something quite disturbing, sort of like being caught by a blast and fluctuating into milky atmospherics instead of actually disintegrating. Sort of. The cozy textures that kickstart side B slowly but surely breathe life into a thick wash of effects that turn the song into pure headphone gold. This Side B contains something of wondrous beauty, I shit you not. Hard to pin down, Telekaster is ambient music that refuses to stay put when it comes to sedation, or something wrapped in hiss you should probably be listening to. Or something. It is just very good.
– Diego Gerlach
“Though each side of Telekaster’s “At How Many Beats Per Life” features two pieces (composed and performed by Grübel), the sides play like single, ten-minute pieces. “Kubus” casts a wide-eyed spell with fireworks of dusty piano and acoustic guitar exploding into the air before a mountain of simmering fuzz in “Horizontal Opening” works itself into a violent, convulsive lather that seems fit to explode at any moment. Muddled voices introduce side two’s “Secret Layers” before it splinters into dazzling guitar strums that would do James Blackshaw proud and then blossoms into a wondrous sunstorm of shuddering chords and haze. A late inning plunge into the trippy electro-acoustic meltdown—samples of muted trumpet and cymbal splashes bobbing to the surface—that is “The Distance Around a Circle” guides the spent listener home. We loved The Silent Anagram, Telekaster’s 2009 album on Panic Arrest, and we like the cassette release just as much, even if it’s a smaller serving.”
– Ron Schepper