Rudolf Eb.er — Brainnectar

Here’s a monstrous, pro-printed and pressed two CD set from Rudolf Eb.er - the driving force behind the Schimpfluch Gruppe collective. Eb.er is known - if not notorious - for visceral performances and recordings that often concern themselves with the immersing of the body and mind in unsettling situations. Whilst these often flirt with, and transgress, taboo subjects, they are nearly always delivered with an earthy humour and awareness. There’s increasingly a sense of Eb.er as occupying a shamanic territory, and Brainnectar makes that link very explicit.

Let’s be clear from the start: this is indeed a monstrous release, not only in tone but also in it’s two-hour-plus duration.  It’s not an album of lengthy drones or noise tracks, but rather shorter constructions and collages - the longest checks in at five and a half minutes, the shortest, a mere seven seconds… So, it’s unrealistic to attempt to effectively summarise it here. Frankly, though, the nature of the album resists that neat summarising anyway. To quote at length from the inlay text: ‘psychoactive acoustics are developed for the awakening and raising of psychic and psycho-physical energies of the listener.’ (Indeed, the label site even goes as far as to state that the ‘consciousness-expanding… reception of Brainnectar is given priority over any musical aesthetics.’) So, in simplistic terms, the album is a long chain of collages, often constructed from a reasonably small set of sounds. These sounds include environmental sounds (water, the crackling of fire), sounds of fauna (pigs, birds, flies), human vocalisations (buried chants, the severe shrieking of Junko Hiroshige [of Hijôkaidan]), musical instruments (piano, percussion, flute), and electronic sounds (drones, tones, beats, noise - as well as processings of vocals, instruments and pig grunts). These sounds are combined and layered, in Eb.er’s capable hands, to make small jigsaw pieces, interlocking to make a greater picture. This is a key thing, really; whilst some of the tracks stand on their own, the repetitive use of material, and the explicitly functional use of the music, create a recording that needs to be listened to, and seen, as a whole. On a similar note, whilst I’ve heard Eb.er albums that have individual tracks as stand-alone ‘rituals’, this is the first where the entire album represents a ritual from start to finish (or at least, appears to).

Rudolf Eb.er rarely produces anything that isn’t unsettling, and here that tone prevails too. The majority of the tracks create ‘quiet’, mysterious atmospheres - at points like bizarre field recordings - but Brainnectar is punctuated by more abrasive sections. Often, these feature the tortured howls of Hiroshige, with high-pitched, incessant, vocal agitations. The use of sounds/devices associated with psychoacoustic musics (binaural beats, tones tuned to specific frequencies) raises concerns in the listener’s mind, too. What effect is Eb.er trying to produce in me? What effects am I feeling? Anything? Truth be told, I didn’t feel ‘anything’, no - and I did indeed listen through headphones, as recommended.

This brings me to my one issue with the album - it seems to warrant particular conditions for listening, but they’re not prescribed or suggested in any way. I don’t want to be spoon-fed - and from another angle, I’m very aware that things like meditation require training and study - but it almost feels like Brainnectar should come with a list of instructions for the prospective listener, or resources that might encourage further study in it’s territory. It feels like a functional set of tracks, but there’s no simple way to partake in this functionality. Regardless, it is another engaging album from a provocative figure. If you are new to Eb.er’s various works and projects, this is probably not the best place to start; however, fans and followers will find Brainnectar a rigorous, deep spin on familiar ground.