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01. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Ekirlu Kong
02. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Bock Bounceburg
03. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Damenbartblick
04. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Smooth Motion Kaukraut
05. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Kandierte Jammerlochlappen
06. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Angerrestbay
07. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - Wasserstopf
08. SCHLAMMPEITZIGER - What I Got
ARTIST
TITLE
Damenbartblick auf Pregnant Hill
FORMAT
CD

LABEL
CATALOG #
BB 276CD BB 276CD
GENRE
RELEASE DATE
1/26/2018

Swallowing air and farting it out, that's the main life skill of the weatherfish. But what's best about him is his evocative German name: Schlammpeitziger. When German electronic artist Jo Zimmermann launched his solo career in the early 1990s, he chose to be identified with this creature living in the flat muddy waters of the European and Asian plains. Unlike the fish, Schlammpeitziger's early reputation was built on his inventive use of cheap Casio synthesizers and the use of composite nouns to name but his first five albums. This here is his eleventh, and while Schlammpeitziger's art has moved on, true to his nature it does contain some colorful references to farting. In this forest of mysteries, his schematic, fastidiously executed drawings function as explanatory systems that are funny but at the same time complex and occult. It maps out a non-physical world that is being triggered by events in the common world, but initially only takes shape in Schlammpeitziger's perception by means of impressions buffered in Schlamm-RAM and decoded in quick succession using enormous flows of incoming and outgoing catalytic energy. Like his paintings, these formulas appear similar to seismographic studies: invisible vibrations are recorded and translated into new alphabets. In his search for inspiration, Schlammpeitziger is the eternal pedant, following up the most inconspicuous leads to find different ways of making sense of reality. A magnetist's curiosity drives this folklorist of the self, deep into the thickets of the world. Where others get caught up in well-worn symbolisms or cling to new age rituals with their drones and flickering lights, Schlammpeitziger is taking it easy. He turns his toes inwards, rotates his hips, and beams light signals up into the dark. Jo Zimmermann has the primal funk, a beat that can thread anything together. That certain clap, the short gaps between accents, not to mention the physicality of the bass taking care of the lower levels. In all of this, Schlampeitziger's own movements are an invitation to join his parade of mysteries. For those looking for a future that doesn't reach back into the past but is searching for access to engrossment, Schlammpeitziger's radiation therapy of sound should be just the ticket.