Hello,
Today's Artists were a German electronic avant-garde band founded by pianist and keyboardist Florian Fricke in 1969 together with Holger Trülzsch (percussion), Frank Fiedler (recording engineer and technical assistance) and Bettina Fricke (tablas and production). Other important members during the next two decades included Djong Yun, Renate Knaup, Conny Veit, Daniel Fichelscher, Klaus Wiese and Robert Eliscu. The band influenced many other European bands with their uniquely soft but elaborate instrumentation, which took inspiration from the music of Tibet, Africa, and pre-Columbian America. With music sometimes described as "ethereal", they created soundscapes through psychedelic walls of sound, and are regarded as precursors of contemporary world music, as well as of new age and ambient. .......N'Joy
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A changeable line-up of musicians led by mystic and keyboard player Florian Fricke (1944-2001), Krautrock icons Popol Vuh were one of the great innovators of world music and exotic ambient.
Known very unfairly in some quarters as purveyors of sitar-heavy "raga rock", the band's sonic trademarks are far more diverse: abstract electronica, devotional music, progressive rock, eclectic vocal blends and pioneering ethno-ambient fusions. You may have already heard their music without realising it: German director Werner Herzog has used it to mesmerising effect in some of his films from the 70's and 80's, most notably Aguirre Wrath Of God and his extraordinary 1979 remake of the silent vampire classic Nosferatu.
Fricke was a brilliant, intuitive musician and one of the first Westerners to seamlessly blend Eastern and Western sounds, in both a traditional rock band context and in a more ethereal and meditative vein. But he didn't do it alone. Guitarist and drummer Daniel Fichelscher - the only other stable longtime member of the group - also made outstanding contributions. He was a supple, melodic guitar player who brought a rock-like accessibility to Popol Vuh's sound and without whom a large portion of the band's music would have been a very different thing. He was also a fine singer, making substantial contributions to the group vocals and chants that became pronounced in the band's music after the mid 1970's.
Where to begin?
At the time of Fricke's death more than two dozen original albums and film soundtracks of varying quality had been released and many more compilations as well. Wading through them can be a maddening experience. There is a tendency to repeat or re-record tracks on successive albums for no apparent reason, not to mention a lot of previously released music turning up on the film soundtracks. The less-than-hi-fidelity sound of some productions also takes a little getting used to. Until very recently the band's back catalogue was a shambles: some put that down to Fricke's personal quirks and aversion to the music business, while Fricke himself on at least one occasion (in a rare 1996 interview) blamed the record companies.
Popol Vuh's earliest music dates from the late 1960's and early 70's and is fairly typical of the exploratory, abstract electronica in vogue among German bands at the time. The second album In The Gardens Of Pharao (1971) is a classic; an intense, eerie melding of electronic tones from the Moog synthesiser and organ with cymbals, vocal tones and half-submerged tribal instruments. That it recalls early period Tangerine Dream is not surprising when you consider it was Fricke who introduced that very band to the Moog synth as a guest player on their album Zeit (1972). But In the Gardens of Pharao is a more deeply sacred music than TD, reflecting his keen interest at the time in Mayan Indian culture and his lifelong spiritual leanings in general.
At one end is the 20-minute "Spirit Of Peace", a spacious and deeply personal creation for solo piano. At the other end is the stunning main theme from Werner Herzog's film Aguirre (ignore the patchy Aguirre soundtrack album released 1974). On this track Fricke reaches the apogee of his work with electronic synthesis. It's breathtakingly, jaw-droppingly beautiful: a six minute sepulchral drone that blends angelic vocal samples played on a Melotron-like keyboard with deeply trance-inducing colours and pulses from the synthesiser. A milestone in ambient sound, "Aguirre" (also known as "Lacrime Di Re") also marks the end of Fricke's short love affair with electronics. A certain vocal sound he'd been attempting to find with electronics unexpectedly turned up in the form of a Korean vocalist named Djon Yon, who would feature prominently on Popol Vuh's next album Hosianna Mantra (1972).
Almost an antithesis to what came before, Hosianna Mantra favours mostly acoustic music that's devotional but doesn't sit within any single religious tradition. It's a timeless, beatless neo-classical blend of Yon's ritual-like vocal improvisations blended with Fricke's piano, silky electric guitar by one Connie Veit (with lots of sustain and echo), sweet oboe by Robert Eliscu of the pioneering world music band Between, and subtle touches of droning tamboura.
Meeting guitarist Daniel Fichelscher around this time radically changed Fricke's musical world yet again. In the next few years there appeared a series of forward-thinking albums made by what superficially appears to be rock line-up but which doesn't sound quite like any other rock music of the 1970's.
Seligpreisung (1973) is the greatest of these, a masterpiece of ambient rock jamming, jazz-style improvising and lovely duets for oboe and piano. The changing time signatures within many tracks are brilliantly handled, the flow uninterrupted. It marks the first appearance of Popol Vuh's trademark jangling guitar and piano combination, a luminous ambient sound that came to define the band's very soul. Fricke's wordless vocals here - usually not part of the PV sound - seem to anticipate the visionary style of Stephan Micus a decade later, being all about sound rather than lyrics. Seligpreisung also displays the band's mysterious brilliance for being able to sound non-Western with little actual reliance on exotic instruments.
Three other albums recorded in this quasi-rock style in the mid 1970's also rate essential listening and two of them feature the welcome return of Djon Yon's vocals.
Das Hohelied Salomos (1975) echoes the sound of Hosianna Mantra but with the additional of drums and more intensely layered rhythm and lead guitars, giving the album a more rocking feel. Some impressive group vocal chants start to appear at this point in the band's career, a direction which would come to full flower in the next decade. For the first time Indian sitar sits upfront on several tracks but it doesn't radically alter the groups sound - suggesting an earlier mastery of Indian and Mid Eastern modes before they ever relied on the actual instruments. The album Letzte Tag Letzte Nachte (1976) is similar, if even more intense at times in its psychedelic rock gestures, and some of Yon's most powerful singing can be heard here. Rounding out the trio is the film soundtrack Coeur De Verre/Herz Aus Glass (1977) which is completely instrumental, allowing Fichelscher to really let fly with some his most celestial, probing guitar playing.
Having explored the possibilities of what a full-time rock combo could sound like, the band moved on once again and by the late 70's was charting increasingly quiet and contemplative waters. The music recorded for Werner Herzog's hypnotic vampire film Nosferatu is actually spread across two different albums released in the same year: the official soundtrack album Nosferatu (1978) plus Bruder Des Schattens Sohne Des Lichts (1978).
The recent CD re-issue of Nosferatu by SPV Recordings compiles all of the music from both earlier releases and is the logical purchase. On these releases the band downplays its penchant for progressive rock jamming to include beatless mood pieces and atmospheric ethno-ambient stylings. Some moments date back to the sessions that produced the eerie electronica of In The Gardens of Pharao; some pieces exist within the classic Popol Vuh blend of piano and guitar; others manage the not inconsiderable feat of making Indian sitar and tambour drones sound rather tense. Towering above them all is Nosferatu's main theme "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light", an example of Fricke's growing sophistication in use of vocals. It opens with dark male vocal chants that seem to blend Tantric, Buddhist and Christian traditions, building slowly with sad oboe and crashing Tibetan cymbals before spilling over into a slow instrumental jam as openly loving and joyous as anything you'll hear from the band.
Consistent with the feel of the previous two albums is the magnificent Tantric Songs (1979/1981) which - just to keep things confusing - currently exists in two different versions. It demonstrates the band's extraordinary gift for tapping a deep, mystical, intangible power and turning it into music without pomp or pretension. The album offers some the moodiest and most ambient of Popol Vuh's music: Fricke's shadowy gothic piano figures, Fichelscher's glittering acoustic and electric guitars, some lovely oboe and touches of Indian instrumentation. It's music unanchored to any particular time period in musical history and awash with religious atmosphere, carried by subtle shifts of light and shade. The original version of Tantric Songs emphasises a slightly wider range global exotica than Celestial Harmonies U.S. version. The latter is more of a "best-of" collection of late 70's material which deletes a handful of shorter tracks to make room for the aforementioned 18-minute classic "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light".
Although output of new material slowed in the 1980's, the decade remains significant for Popol Vuh's exhilarating distillation of vocal sounds - chants, mantras and choral singing - from different ages and cultures.
The film soundtrack Sei Still Wisse Ich Bin (1981) is an "oratorio" that finds the band working with large scale choirs and group vocals. Anyone with a fondness for the soulful qualities of human voice should be suitably knocked out. Backed by flowing piano, guitars, tribal drums and shimmering percussion, the swelling chorales and chants are by turns mournful and joyous, dark and euphoric, dramatic and gentle. The vocal sources are varied - operatic, South American, Christian, Tibetan elements and more. This is profound music, human and divine at the same time, and its rough edges and looseness make it all the more appealing. With perfect understatement, his friend and Celestial Harmonies Records boss Eckart Rahn once said to me in an interview about Fricke: "He knew something". Yes he did, and he managed to get it down on spellbinding records like this.
Four more original releases from the same decade also rate highly. Agape Agape (1983) and Spirit Of Peace (1985) don't consistently scale the heights of Still Wisse Ich Bin with their vocal work but are still essential releases. "Why Do I Still Sleep" is a cluster of simple piano figures so gentle and expansive you may get carried away on its ravishing melody and not return for several hours. Some of the layered vocal chants like "Agape Agape" and "We Know About The Need" are extraordinarily beautiful, while the gentle group jam "Take The Tension High" casts its slow mantra-like spell over 18 minutes. The film soundtrack Cobra Verde (1987) also contains several similar folksy vocal mantras alongside some surprising beatless, string-laden landscapes - the latter more traditionally filmic and not typical of the band, but fantastic and darkly beautiful all the same.
The 90's proved to be creatively far leaner than previous decades, with only For You And Me (1991) proving to be an impressive work. Its clean, crisp production is something of a shock if you previously waxed ears on the band's earlier material. Was the softer lo-fi sound of yore deliberate? Quite possibly.
Certainly the band's creative dynamic was now different. What is not widely known is the reason: Fricke sustained a serious hand injury at some point in the 80's - losing at least one finger to gangrene after a trip the Himalayas, according to Eckart Rahn - and tragically could no longer play the piano. So new member Guido Hieronymus took over the piano playing and also shared the creative duties, a move that fundamentally changed Popol Vuh, with Daniel Fichelscher now less involved than before.
The overall effect of the clean sound on For You and Me seems somehow less mystical but the album is still a lovely, engaging and mostly upbeat collection of world music fusions with just a touch of synth pop. The classic blend of ringing guitars and glowing piano still binds everything together, however, and some of the small group choral arrangements are striking. The band's past resurfaces on the 4-part suite "Om Mane Padem Hum" on which Fricke cleverly reworks the brighter moments from his classic "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light" into something new but equally as warm and optimistic.
With the non-essential City Raga (1995) and Shepherd's Symphony (1997) the influence of Hieronymus on keyboards and arrangements has become overt, with the band now hopping on board the 90's ambient dance bandwagon. At the time many fans were aghast, but in retrospect neither of these are horrible records; they're just underwhelming next to ethno-ambient efforts by more dance-savvy acts of the period like Mayko, Loop Guru, Deep Forest and Delerium. Daniel Fichelscher - sidelined after the arrival of Hieronymus - was unimpressed with all the sequencers and drum machines; he left the band soon after City Raga after contributing guitar to just one track.
The final album before Fricke's death in 2001 was an interesting but unexceptional mix of ambient drones and poetry for an art installation called Messa Di Orfeo (1999). It's significant only in that it suggests Fricke had come nearly full circle to once again embrace the abstract electronica of his earliest work.
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Das Hohelied Salomos continues along the same path as Hosianna Mantra (1972), Seligpreisung (1973), and Einsjäger & Siebenjäger (1974). Collaborating with guitarist/percussionist Daniel Fichelscher and soprano Djong Yun and adapting lyrics from the Old Testament's Song of Solomon, Florian Fricke crafts deeply spiritual music from a synthesis of Eastern and Western popular, classical and devotional traditions. Fichelscher's guitar and percussion are to the fore, often eclipsing Fricke's rippling piano melodies, and Yun graces most tracks with her serene, ethereal voice. As on Einsjäger & Siebenjäger, the group works with an economical palette, combining elements to create grand arrangements with subtly shifting rhythms, tempos, and textures. Here, however, the results are all the more expansive and majestic as the minimalist strokes coalesce in sweeping, cosmic swathes, most memorably on the meditative interludes "Du Sohn Davids I" and "In den Nächten auf den Gassen I," with its oceanic, mantric ebb and flow. With contributions from Alois Gromer (sitar) and Shana Kumar (tabla), Das Hohelied Salomos recovers some of the Eastern accent that was more evident on Hosianna Mantra and Seligpreisung: the standout in that regard is the lilting "Der Winter Ist Vorbei," which sets Yun's vocals amid Gromer and Kumar's hypnotic grooves. Elsewhere, there's a more seamless cultural hybrid: for instance, on "Steh auf, Zieh Mich Dir Nach," which gradually gathers momentum with Fricke's piano arpeggios and Fichelscher's rich, bluesy playing. That rock dimension is most emphatic on the closing "Du Tränke Mich mit Deinen Küssen," another track that builds slowly around layered, interweaving guitars. Das Hohelied Salomos encapsulates Fricke's gift for blending aspects of Western rock music's traditionally profane idiom with non-Western and non-rock aesthetics to pursue his unique vision of sacred music.
Popol Vuh - Das Hohelied Salomos (flac 227mb)
01 Steh Auf, Zieh Mich Dir Nach 4:44
02 Du Schönste Der Weiber 4:28
03 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen 1:33
04 Du Sohn Davids I 2:59
05 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen II 3:26
06 Der Winter Ist Vorbei 3:42
07 Ja, Deine Liebe Ist Süßer Als Wein 3:36
08 Du Sohn Davids II 3:47
09 Du Tränke Mich Mit Deinen Küssen 4:57
Bonus
10 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen III 2:10
11 Schön Bist Du Vor Menschensöhnen (Alternative Session) 2:45
12 Mitten Im Garten (Alternative Piano Version) 4:50
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Aguirre gathers recordings made between 1972 and 1974 embodying the distinctive characteristics of Popol Vuh's early-'70s sonic identity: austere analog synth textures that inspired subsequent ambient artists and organically crafted, ethnically nuanced proto-new age music. The most memorable material here derives from the soundtrack to Werner Herzog's film Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes, which chronicles an ill-fated 16th century Spanish quest for El Dorado. The film's central motif blends pulsing Moog and spectral voices conjured from Florian Fricke's Mellotron-related "choir organ" to achieve something sublime, in the truest sense of the word: it's hard not to find the music's awe-inspiring, overwhelming beauty simultaneously unsettling. The power of the legendary opening sequence of Herzog's film (a breathtaking shot of the conquistadors descending a mountain path, dwarfed by the natural beauty that ultimately consumes them) owes as much to Popol Vuh's music as it does to the director's mise-en-scène. This musical motif appears in two slightly different incarnations: "Aguirre I," which closes with Andean pipes, and "Aguirre II," featuring Daniel Fichelscher's soaring guitar melodies. Elsewhere, the cosmic sensibility of those tracks is replaced with an earthbound orientation, but the results are no less mesmerizing. Built around acoustic guitars and percussion (and a fleeting contribution from vocalist Djong Yun), the 15-minute triptych "Vergegenwärtigung" blurs the boundaries between East and West while incorporating nuances of early music. The album also includes "Morgengruß II" and "Agnus Dei," versions of which appeared on Einsjäger & Siebenjäger. Compared with In den Gärten Pharaos or Hosianna Mantra, Aguirre doesn't stand up as a consistently great album, but that's not to say that it doesn't contain some great pieces of music.
Popol Vuh - Aguirre (flac 194mb)
01 Aguirre I (L'Acrime Di Rei) 7:23
02 Morgengruss II 2:56
03 Aguirre II 6:16
04 Agnus Dei 3:03
05 Vergegenwärtigung 16:51
Bonus
06 Aguirre III 7:16
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As Florian Fricke moved away from an early synthesizer-centered sound and embraced organic instrumentation in his quest to fuse Eastern and Western musical and spiritual traditions, Popol Vuh's rock orientation became more pronounced. That aspect derived largely from the contributions of electric guitarists Conny Veit (on Hosianna Mantra and Seligpreisung) and Daniel Fichelscher (on Seligpreisung, Einsjäger & Siebenjäger, and Das Hohelied Salomos). Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte is the band's boldest foray into rock territory. On Das Hohelied Salomos, Fichelscher's guitar often eclipsed Fricke's piano; here, his presence is even more emphatic. That's not to say that the band has lost its equilibrium -- this is another classic Popol Vuh exercise in balancing and reconciling apparent opposites. An opening pair of instrumentals sets the tone. Buoyed by hard-driving percussion, on "Der Große Krieger" Fichelscher combines muscular riffage with a lightness of touch as he unleashes streams of soaring notes; "Oh Wie Nah Ist der Weg Hinab" builds on an ominous Floydian groove before lilting, interwoven guitar lines lift the song to its conclusion. Elsewhere, vocals play a key role in the dynamics: pounding drums and thick layers of bluesy guitar provide a heavy foundation on "Dort Ist der Weg," while the ethereal voices of Djong Yun and Renate Knaup add an expansive dimension. Their vocals also contribute a pastoral feel, especially on the folky title track and on meditative numbers like the guitar and piano mantra "Haram Dei Raram Dei Haram Dei Ra" and "Kyrie," on which Fricke's arpeggios blend with Ted de Jong's tamboura and Alois Gromer's sitar. Concluding a strong cycle of albums, Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte continues to encapsulate Popol Vuh's defining characteristics: an ability to create music that's simultaneously delicate and powerful, detailed and expansive, earthbound in its origins and cosmic in its reach.
Popol Vuh - Letzte Tage-Letzte Nachte (flac 267mb)
01 Der Große Krieger 3:10
02 Oh Wie Nah Ist Der Weg Hinab 4:34
03 Oh Wie Weit Ist Der Weg Hinauf 4:33
04 In Deine Hände 3:01
05 Kyrie 4:34
06 Haram Dei Raram Dei Haram Dei Ra 1:27
07 Dort Ist Der Weg 4:29
08 Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte 4:20
Bonus
09 Wanderschaft - Wanderings 5:56
10 Gib Hin (Session Version) 2:30
11 Haram Dei Ra (Alternative Version) 6:32
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One of several soundtracks Florian Fricke composed for the films of Werner Herzog, Coeur de Verre (Heart from Glass, 1976) is one of the true masterpieces from Popol Vuh. Utilizing East Indian classical music as its starting point, Fricke and Daniel Fichelscher (guitars and percussion), with help from Alois Gromer on sitar and flutist Mattias Tippelskirch, have recorded one of the most blissed-out works in the band's history. Fricke's concentration on nearly painfully slowly developing themes (yes, even slower than usual) is tempered by the sheer reliance on transcendent euphoria in the processional tempos. The purposeful control of dynamics is necessary because of the deep emotional and spiritual connotations in the music. Composed to the images on the screen, the original version of "Sing, for Song Drives Away the Wolves" and the redone "Geimenschaft" appear here and close the album. Indeed they are its highlights, but that is only after a buildup that demands release after 45 minutes. Many would argue for one of the choral vocal works like Hosianna Mantra or Sei Still, Wisse ICH BIN as the band's flat-out masterpiece, but in its purely instrumental incarnation this one is unquestionably Popol Vuh's watermark. There is so much beauty here, it tenderly breaks the heart over and over again, seemingly effortlessly.
Popol Vuh - Herz aus Glas ("Singet, Denn Der Gesang Vertreibt Die Wölfe.") (flac 244mb)
01 Engel Der Gegenwart 8:18
02 Blätter Aus Dem Buch Der Kühnheit 4:19
03 Das Lied Von Den Hohen Bergen 4:12
04 Hüter Der Schwelle 3:47
05 Der Ruf 4:42
06 Singet, Denn Der Gesang Vertreibt Die Wölfe 4:15
07 Gemeinschaft 3:51
Bonus
08 Auf Dem Weg - On The Way (Alternative Guitar Version) 4:44
09 Hand In Hand In Hand (Agape Guitar Version) 5:44
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Today's Artists were a German electronic avant-garde band founded by pianist and keyboardist Florian Fricke in 1969 together with Holger Trülzsch (percussion), Frank Fiedler (recording engineer and technical assistance) and Bettina Fricke (tablas and production). Other important members during the next two decades included Djong Yun, Renate Knaup, Conny Veit, Daniel Fichelscher, Klaus Wiese and Robert Eliscu. The band influenced many other European bands with their uniquely soft but elaborate instrumentation, which took inspiration from the music of Tibet, Africa, and pre-Columbian America. With music sometimes described as "ethereal", they created soundscapes through psychedelic walls of sound, and are regarded as precursors of contemporary world music, as well as of new age and ambient. .......N'Joy
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A changeable line-up of musicians led by mystic and keyboard player Florian Fricke (1944-2001), Krautrock icons Popol Vuh were one of the great innovators of world music and exotic ambient.
Known very unfairly in some quarters as purveyors of sitar-heavy "raga rock", the band's sonic trademarks are far more diverse: abstract electronica, devotional music, progressive rock, eclectic vocal blends and pioneering ethno-ambient fusions. You may have already heard their music without realising it: German director Werner Herzog has used it to mesmerising effect in some of his films from the 70's and 80's, most notably Aguirre Wrath Of God and his extraordinary 1979 remake of the silent vampire classic Nosferatu.
Fricke was a brilliant, intuitive musician and one of the first Westerners to seamlessly blend Eastern and Western sounds, in both a traditional rock band context and in a more ethereal and meditative vein. But he didn't do it alone. Guitarist and drummer Daniel Fichelscher - the only other stable longtime member of the group - also made outstanding contributions. He was a supple, melodic guitar player who brought a rock-like accessibility to Popol Vuh's sound and without whom a large portion of the band's music would have been a very different thing. He was also a fine singer, making substantial contributions to the group vocals and chants that became pronounced in the band's music after the mid 1970's.
Where to begin?
At the time of Fricke's death more than two dozen original albums and film soundtracks of varying quality had been released and many more compilations as well. Wading through them can be a maddening experience. There is a tendency to repeat or re-record tracks on successive albums for no apparent reason, not to mention a lot of previously released music turning up on the film soundtracks. The less-than-hi-fidelity sound of some productions also takes a little getting used to. Until very recently the band's back catalogue was a shambles: some put that down to Fricke's personal quirks and aversion to the music business, while Fricke himself on at least one occasion (in a rare 1996 interview) blamed the record companies.
Popol Vuh's earliest music dates from the late 1960's and early 70's and is fairly typical of the exploratory, abstract electronica in vogue among German bands at the time. The second album In The Gardens Of Pharao (1971) is a classic; an intense, eerie melding of electronic tones from the Moog synthesiser and organ with cymbals, vocal tones and half-submerged tribal instruments. That it recalls early period Tangerine Dream is not surprising when you consider it was Fricke who introduced that very band to the Moog synth as a guest player on their album Zeit (1972). But In the Gardens of Pharao is a more deeply sacred music than TD, reflecting his keen interest at the time in Mayan Indian culture and his lifelong spiritual leanings in general.
At one end is the 20-minute "Spirit Of Peace", a spacious and deeply personal creation for solo piano. At the other end is the stunning main theme from Werner Herzog's film Aguirre (ignore the patchy Aguirre soundtrack album released 1974). On this track Fricke reaches the apogee of his work with electronic synthesis. It's breathtakingly, jaw-droppingly beautiful: a six minute sepulchral drone that blends angelic vocal samples played on a Melotron-like keyboard with deeply trance-inducing colours and pulses from the synthesiser. A milestone in ambient sound, "Aguirre" (also known as "Lacrime Di Re") also marks the end of Fricke's short love affair with electronics. A certain vocal sound he'd been attempting to find with electronics unexpectedly turned up in the form of a Korean vocalist named Djon Yon, who would feature prominently on Popol Vuh's next album Hosianna Mantra (1972).
Almost an antithesis to what came before, Hosianna Mantra favours mostly acoustic music that's devotional but doesn't sit within any single religious tradition. It's a timeless, beatless neo-classical blend of Yon's ritual-like vocal improvisations blended with Fricke's piano, silky electric guitar by one Connie Veit (with lots of sustain and echo), sweet oboe by Robert Eliscu of the pioneering world music band Between, and subtle touches of droning tamboura.
Meeting guitarist Daniel Fichelscher around this time radically changed Fricke's musical world yet again. In the next few years there appeared a series of forward-thinking albums made by what superficially appears to be rock line-up but which doesn't sound quite like any other rock music of the 1970's.
Seligpreisung (1973) is the greatest of these, a masterpiece of ambient rock jamming, jazz-style improvising and lovely duets for oboe and piano. The changing time signatures within many tracks are brilliantly handled, the flow uninterrupted. It marks the first appearance of Popol Vuh's trademark jangling guitar and piano combination, a luminous ambient sound that came to define the band's very soul. Fricke's wordless vocals here - usually not part of the PV sound - seem to anticipate the visionary style of Stephan Micus a decade later, being all about sound rather than lyrics. Seligpreisung also displays the band's mysterious brilliance for being able to sound non-Western with little actual reliance on exotic instruments.
Three other albums recorded in this quasi-rock style in the mid 1970's also rate essential listening and two of them feature the welcome return of Djon Yon's vocals.
Das Hohelied Salomos (1975) echoes the sound of Hosianna Mantra but with the additional of drums and more intensely layered rhythm and lead guitars, giving the album a more rocking feel. Some impressive group vocal chants start to appear at this point in the band's career, a direction which would come to full flower in the next decade. For the first time Indian sitar sits upfront on several tracks but it doesn't radically alter the groups sound - suggesting an earlier mastery of Indian and Mid Eastern modes before they ever relied on the actual instruments. The album Letzte Tag Letzte Nachte (1976) is similar, if even more intense at times in its psychedelic rock gestures, and some of Yon's most powerful singing can be heard here. Rounding out the trio is the film soundtrack Coeur De Verre/Herz Aus Glass (1977) which is completely instrumental, allowing Fichelscher to really let fly with some his most celestial, probing guitar playing.
Having explored the possibilities of what a full-time rock combo could sound like, the band moved on once again and by the late 70's was charting increasingly quiet and contemplative waters. The music recorded for Werner Herzog's hypnotic vampire film Nosferatu is actually spread across two different albums released in the same year: the official soundtrack album Nosferatu (1978) plus Bruder Des Schattens Sohne Des Lichts (1978).
The recent CD re-issue of Nosferatu by SPV Recordings compiles all of the music from both earlier releases and is the logical purchase. On these releases the band downplays its penchant for progressive rock jamming to include beatless mood pieces and atmospheric ethno-ambient stylings. Some moments date back to the sessions that produced the eerie electronica of In The Gardens of Pharao; some pieces exist within the classic Popol Vuh blend of piano and guitar; others manage the not inconsiderable feat of making Indian sitar and tambour drones sound rather tense. Towering above them all is Nosferatu's main theme "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light", an example of Fricke's growing sophistication in use of vocals. It opens with dark male vocal chants that seem to blend Tantric, Buddhist and Christian traditions, building slowly with sad oboe and crashing Tibetan cymbals before spilling over into a slow instrumental jam as openly loving and joyous as anything you'll hear from the band.
Consistent with the feel of the previous two albums is the magnificent Tantric Songs (1979/1981) which - just to keep things confusing - currently exists in two different versions. It demonstrates the band's extraordinary gift for tapping a deep, mystical, intangible power and turning it into music without pomp or pretension. The album offers some the moodiest and most ambient of Popol Vuh's music: Fricke's shadowy gothic piano figures, Fichelscher's glittering acoustic and electric guitars, some lovely oboe and touches of Indian instrumentation. It's music unanchored to any particular time period in musical history and awash with religious atmosphere, carried by subtle shifts of light and shade. The original version of Tantric Songs emphasises a slightly wider range global exotica than Celestial Harmonies U.S. version. The latter is more of a "best-of" collection of late 70's material which deletes a handful of shorter tracks to make room for the aforementioned 18-minute classic "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light".
Although output of new material slowed in the 1980's, the decade remains significant for Popol Vuh's exhilarating distillation of vocal sounds - chants, mantras and choral singing - from different ages and cultures.
The film soundtrack Sei Still Wisse Ich Bin (1981) is an "oratorio" that finds the band working with large scale choirs and group vocals. Anyone with a fondness for the soulful qualities of human voice should be suitably knocked out. Backed by flowing piano, guitars, tribal drums and shimmering percussion, the swelling chorales and chants are by turns mournful and joyous, dark and euphoric, dramatic and gentle. The vocal sources are varied - operatic, South American, Christian, Tibetan elements and more. This is profound music, human and divine at the same time, and its rough edges and looseness make it all the more appealing. With perfect understatement, his friend and Celestial Harmonies Records boss Eckart Rahn once said to me in an interview about Fricke: "He knew something". Yes he did, and he managed to get it down on spellbinding records like this.
Four more original releases from the same decade also rate highly. Agape Agape (1983) and Spirit Of Peace (1985) don't consistently scale the heights of Still Wisse Ich Bin with their vocal work but are still essential releases. "Why Do I Still Sleep" is a cluster of simple piano figures so gentle and expansive you may get carried away on its ravishing melody and not return for several hours. Some of the layered vocal chants like "Agape Agape" and "We Know About The Need" are extraordinarily beautiful, while the gentle group jam "Take The Tension High" casts its slow mantra-like spell over 18 minutes. The film soundtrack Cobra Verde (1987) also contains several similar folksy vocal mantras alongside some surprising beatless, string-laden landscapes - the latter more traditionally filmic and not typical of the band, but fantastic and darkly beautiful all the same.
The 90's proved to be creatively far leaner than previous decades, with only For You And Me (1991) proving to be an impressive work. Its clean, crisp production is something of a shock if you previously waxed ears on the band's earlier material. Was the softer lo-fi sound of yore deliberate? Quite possibly.
Certainly the band's creative dynamic was now different. What is not widely known is the reason: Fricke sustained a serious hand injury at some point in the 80's - losing at least one finger to gangrene after a trip the Himalayas, according to Eckart Rahn - and tragically could no longer play the piano. So new member Guido Hieronymus took over the piano playing and also shared the creative duties, a move that fundamentally changed Popol Vuh, with Daniel Fichelscher now less involved than before.
The overall effect of the clean sound on For You and Me seems somehow less mystical but the album is still a lovely, engaging and mostly upbeat collection of world music fusions with just a touch of synth pop. The classic blend of ringing guitars and glowing piano still binds everything together, however, and some of the small group choral arrangements are striking. The band's past resurfaces on the 4-part suite "Om Mane Padem Hum" on which Fricke cleverly reworks the brighter moments from his classic "Brothers Of Darkness Sons Of Light" into something new but equally as warm and optimistic.
With the non-essential City Raga (1995) and Shepherd's Symphony (1997) the influence of Hieronymus on keyboards and arrangements has become overt, with the band now hopping on board the 90's ambient dance bandwagon. At the time many fans were aghast, but in retrospect neither of these are horrible records; they're just underwhelming next to ethno-ambient efforts by more dance-savvy acts of the period like Mayko, Loop Guru, Deep Forest and Delerium. Daniel Fichelscher - sidelined after the arrival of Hieronymus - was unimpressed with all the sequencers and drum machines; he left the band soon after City Raga after contributing guitar to just one track.
The final album before Fricke's death in 2001 was an interesting but unexceptional mix of ambient drones and poetry for an art installation called Messa Di Orfeo (1999). It's significant only in that it suggests Fricke had come nearly full circle to once again embrace the abstract electronica of his earliest work.
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Das Hohelied Salomos continues along the same path as Hosianna Mantra (1972), Seligpreisung (1973), and Einsjäger & Siebenjäger (1974). Collaborating with guitarist/percussionist Daniel Fichelscher and soprano Djong Yun and adapting lyrics from the Old Testament's Song of Solomon, Florian Fricke crafts deeply spiritual music from a synthesis of Eastern and Western popular, classical and devotional traditions. Fichelscher's guitar and percussion are to the fore, often eclipsing Fricke's rippling piano melodies, and Yun graces most tracks with her serene, ethereal voice. As on Einsjäger & Siebenjäger, the group works with an economical palette, combining elements to create grand arrangements with subtly shifting rhythms, tempos, and textures. Here, however, the results are all the more expansive and majestic as the minimalist strokes coalesce in sweeping, cosmic swathes, most memorably on the meditative interludes "Du Sohn Davids I" and "In den Nächten auf den Gassen I," with its oceanic, mantric ebb and flow. With contributions from Alois Gromer (sitar) and Shana Kumar (tabla), Das Hohelied Salomos recovers some of the Eastern accent that was more evident on Hosianna Mantra and Seligpreisung: the standout in that regard is the lilting "Der Winter Ist Vorbei," which sets Yun's vocals amid Gromer and Kumar's hypnotic grooves. Elsewhere, there's a more seamless cultural hybrid: for instance, on "Steh auf, Zieh Mich Dir Nach," which gradually gathers momentum with Fricke's piano arpeggios and Fichelscher's rich, bluesy playing. That rock dimension is most emphatic on the closing "Du Tränke Mich mit Deinen Küssen," another track that builds slowly around layered, interweaving guitars. Das Hohelied Salomos encapsulates Fricke's gift for blending aspects of Western rock music's traditionally profane idiom with non-Western and non-rock aesthetics to pursue his unique vision of sacred music.
Popol Vuh - Das Hohelied Salomos (flac 227mb)
01 Steh Auf, Zieh Mich Dir Nach 4:44
02 Du Schönste Der Weiber 4:28
03 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen 1:33
04 Du Sohn Davids I 2:59
05 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen II 3:26
06 Der Winter Ist Vorbei 3:42
07 Ja, Deine Liebe Ist Süßer Als Wein 3:36
08 Du Sohn Davids II 3:47
09 Du Tränke Mich Mit Deinen Küssen 4:57
Bonus
10 In Den Nächten Auf Den Gassen III 2:10
11 Schön Bist Du Vor Menschensöhnen (Alternative Session) 2:45
12 Mitten Im Garten (Alternative Piano Version) 4:50
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Aguirre gathers recordings made between 1972 and 1974 embodying the distinctive characteristics of Popol Vuh's early-'70s sonic identity: austere analog synth textures that inspired subsequent ambient artists and organically crafted, ethnically nuanced proto-new age music. The most memorable material here derives from the soundtrack to Werner Herzog's film Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes, which chronicles an ill-fated 16th century Spanish quest for El Dorado. The film's central motif blends pulsing Moog and spectral voices conjured from Florian Fricke's Mellotron-related "choir organ" to achieve something sublime, in the truest sense of the word: it's hard not to find the music's awe-inspiring, overwhelming beauty simultaneously unsettling. The power of the legendary opening sequence of Herzog's film (a breathtaking shot of the conquistadors descending a mountain path, dwarfed by the natural beauty that ultimately consumes them) owes as much to Popol Vuh's music as it does to the director's mise-en-scène. This musical motif appears in two slightly different incarnations: "Aguirre I," which closes with Andean pipes, and "Aguirre II," featuring Daniel Fichelscher's soaring guitar melodies. Elsewhere, the cosmic sensibility of those tracks is replaced with an earthbound orientation, but the results are no less mesmerizing. Built around acoustic guitars and percussion (and a fleeting contribution from vocalist Djong Yun), the 15-minute triptych "Vergegenwärtigung" blurs the boundaries between East and West while incorporating nuances of early music. The album also includes "Morgengruß II" and "Agnus Dei," versions of which appeared on Einsjäger & Siebenjäger. Compared with In den Gärten Pharaos or Hosianna Mantra, Aguirre doesn't stand up as a consistently great album, but that's not to say that it doesn't contain some great pieces of music.
Popol Vuh - Aguirre (flac 194mb)
01 Aguirre I (L'Acrime Di Rei) 7:23
02 Morgengruss II 2:56
03 Aguirre II 6:16
04 Agnus Dei 3:03
05 Vergegenwärtigung 16:51
Bonus
06 Aguirre III 7:16
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As Florian Fricke moved away from an early synthesizer-centered sound and embraced organic instrumentation in his quest to fuse Eastern and Western musical and spiritual traditions, Popol Vuh's rock orientation became more pronounced. That aspect derived largely from the contributions of electric guitarists Conny Veit (on Hosianna Mantra and Seligpreisung) and Daniel Fichelscher (on Seligpreisung, Einsjäger & Siebenjäger, and Das Hohelied Salomos). Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte is the band's boldest foray into rock territory. On Das Hohelied Salomos, Fichelscher's guitar often eclipsed Fricke's piano; here, his presence is even more emphatic. That's not to say that the band has lost its equilibrium -- this is another classic Popol Vuh exercise in balancing and reconciling apparent opposites. An opening pair of instrumentals sets the tone. Buoyed by hard-driving percussion, on "Der Große Krieger" Fichelscher combines muscular riffage with a lightness of touch as he unleashes streams of soaring notes; "Oh Wie Nah Ist der Weg Hinab" builds on an ominous Floydian groove before lilting, interwoven guitar lines lift the song to its conclusion. Elsewhere, vocals play a key role in the dynamics: pounding drums and thick layers of bluesy guitar provide a heavy foundation on "Dort Ist der Weg," while the ethereal voices of Djong Yun and Renate Knaup add an expansive dimension. Their vocals also contribute a pastoral feel, especially on the folky title track and on meditative numbers like the guitar and piano mantra "Haram Dei Raram Dei Haram Dei Ra" and "Kyrie," on which Fricke's arpeggios blend with Ted de Jong's tamboura and Alois Gromer's sitar. Concluding a strong cycle of albums, Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte continues to encapsulate Popol Vuh's defining characteristics: an ability to create music that's simultaneously delicate and powerful, detailed and expansive, earthbound in its origins and cosmic in its reach.
Popol Vuh - Letzte Tage-Letzte Nachte (flac 267mb)
01 Der Große Krieger 3:10
02 Oh Wie Nah Ist Der Weg Hinab 4:34
03 Oh Wie Weit Ist Der Weg Hinauf 4:33
04 In Deine Hände 3:01
05 Kyrie 4:34
06 Haram Dei Raram Dei Haram Dei Ra 1:27
07 Dort Ist Der Weg 4:29
08 Letzte Tage - Letzte Nächte 4:20
Bonus
09 Wanderschaft - Wanderings 5:56
10 Gib Hin (Session Version) 2:30
11 Haram Dei Ra (Alternative Version) 6:32
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One of several soundtracks Florian Fricke composed for the films of Werner Herzog, Coeur de Verre (Heart from Glass, 1976) is one of the true masterpieces from Popol Vuh. Utilizing East Indian classical music as its starting point, Fricke and Daniel Fichelscher (guitars and percussion), with help from Alois Gromer on sitar and flutist Mattias Tippelskirch, have recorded one of the most blissed-out works in the band's history. Fricke's concentration on nearly painfully slowly developing themes (yes, even slower than usual) is tempered by the sheer reliance on transcendent euphoria in the processional tempos. The purposeful control of dynamics is necessary because of the deep emotional and spiritual connotations in the music. Composed to the images on the screen, the original version of "Sing, for Song Drives Away the Wolves" and the redone "Geimenschaft" appear here and close the album. Indeed they are its highlights, but that is only after a buildup that demands release after 45 minutes. Many would argue for one of the choral vocal works like Hosianna Mantra or Sei Still, Wisse ICH BIN as the band's flat-out masterpiece, but in its purely instrumental incarnation this one is unquestionably Popol Vuh's watermark. There is so much beauty here, it tenderly breaks the heart over and over again, seemingly effortlessly.
Popol Vuh - Herz aus Glas ("Singet, Denn Der Gesang Vertreibt Die Wölfe.") (flac 244mb)
01 Engel Der Gegenwart 8:18
02 Blätter Aus Dem Buch Der Kühnheit 4:19
03 Das Lied Von Den Hohen Bergen 4:12
04 Hüter Der Schwelle 3:47
05 Der Ruf 4:42
06 Singet, Denn Der Gesang Vertreibt Die Wölfe 4:15
07 Gemeinschaft 3:51
Bonus
08 Auf Dem Weg - On The Way (Alternative Guitar Version) 4:44
09 Hand In Hand In Hand (Agape Guitar Version) 5:44
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Hi Rho
ReplyDeleteThank you for all the recent re-uploading. To add to the pile, can I request Coeur de Verre?
Many thanks