19-12-2020, 20:56
GAZPACHO ~ Fireworker
![[Image: R-15970084-1601122334-5424.jpeg.jpg]](https://img.discogs.com/ZtJpnq6NtQJuhE2tBiVQuSbj3D4=/fit-in/300x300/filters:strip_icc():format(jpeg):mode_rgb():quality(40)/discogs-images/R-15970084-1601122334-5424.jpeg.jpg)
Yet another Norwegian band who are totally new to me. There must be something in the water! I’ve listened to this album three times, trying to absorb it properly. On initial hearing I wanted to like it all the way through – was hoping there were not going to be any unpleasant surprises along the way. I think I can safely say that there aren’t, except the last track which is a bit loud and fuzzy in places, which I suspect is by design.
Can’t say I have entirely got to grips with the lyrics and the concept – I’m feeling a bit slow – running out of intellectual steam – deeply analytical and philosophical is a bit much to ask right now, LOL! I also don’t understand a lingering reservation, other than it might be because there are times when Jan-Henrik Ohme reminds me a little of Thom Yorke and despite being vastly superior to Radiohead, generally, and not being imposters musically speaking – it's a little bit nagging. I guess I’m reluctantly intrigued which is not necessarily a bad thing. Beats the hell out of all the crass, disgusting words (I refuse to call them lyrics) that are doing the rounds.
The cover artwork is intended to depict the complexity of neurons, the “Fireworker” and also the “Space Cowboy” (two of the song titles) living deep within our psyche. I will give the band this – I haven’t heard anything new I’ll make a concerted effort to understand in a very long time, other than Abel Ganz. Wiki calls them ‘classical post-ambient nocturnal atmospheric neo-progressive folk world rock’ which kinda lives up to their name - the result of a self-professed unlikely mix of people – all six of ‘em. Unlike the clean fresh flavours of the spicy vibrant soup, however, the underlying northern angst remains along with a dash of the ominous ...
This is from their site - http://gazpachoworld.com/music/fireworker/
“For nearly twenty years, Gazpacho have reigned as the kings of atmospheric and affective art rock. That’s certainly no small feat, as the subgenre is full of wonderfully moody, ornate, and emotional artists; yet, none of them manage to achieve the same level of exquisite baroque resonance and hypnotically introspective weight as the Norwegian sextet. As a result, they never fail to provide awe-inspiring examinations of the human condition, and their latest observation, Fireworker, is no exception. It is undoubtedly among their greatest achievements, as well as one of the most profound pieces of music you’ll hear in 2020.
Conceptually, the album follows the band’s tradition of blending grand philosophical quandaries, stimulating literary leanings, and haunting personal turmoil. In a way, it acts as the culmination of the themes and techniques that’ve decorated earlier collections, combining the fatalistic isolation of Night and Missa Atropos; the ill-fated narrative drama of Tick Tock and Soyuz; and the hefty theological/scientific contemplations of Demon and Molok. Beyond that, its central premise (that humanity has always been controlled by an infallible and omniscient creature determined to propagate at any cost) means that Fireworker comes across like the overarching umbrella under which all of its predecessors occur.
Keyboardist Thomas Andersen elucidates: “There’s an instinctual part of you that lives inside your mind, separate from your consciousness. I call it the ‘Fireworker’ or the ‘Lizard’ or the ‘Space Cowboy.’ It’s an eternal and unbroken lifeforce that’s survived every generation, with a new version in each of us. It’s evolved alongside our consciousness, and it can override us and control all of our actions.” In order to get us to do what it wants, he clarifies, the “Fireworker” will silence the parts of our mind that feel disgust or remorse so that we’re unable to stop it. The conscious part of our mind, Andersen notes, will actually “rationalize and legitimize” those thoughts and actions so that we never discover the beast behind-the-scenes. No matter how we feel about ourselves in terms of identity, accomplishments, and value, we’re all just vessels—or “Sapiens”—that the creature uses until it no longer needs us. “If you play along,” Andersen explains, “It’ll reward you like a puppy and let you feel fantastic; if you don’t, it’ll punish you severely.”
Like Night, Fireworker is a single “trip” broken into five chapters but meant to be appreciated all at once. This time, however, Gazpacho’s recurring protagonist is investigating the labyrinthian hive of his own psyche to engage in a Bergman-esque confrontation with the “Fireworker.” This journey is even represented by the Wimmelbilder cover, which, as usual, was designed by collaborator Antonio Seijas and depicts “the billions of neurons that create the cave of the mind”.
Five tracks in all, three sandwiched by a 19.41 and a 15.22 epic neither of which I'll post, for the sake of brevity.
"Hourglass" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLbyyBYq6uc
The title track ...
Yet another Norwegian band who are totally new to me. There must be something in the water! I’ve listened to this album three times, trying to absorb it properly. On initial hearing I wanted to like it all the way through – was hoping there were not going to be any unpleasant surprises along the way. I think I can safely say that there aren’t, except the last track which is a bit loud and fuzzy in places, which I suspect is by design.
Can’t say I have entirely got to grips with the lyrics and the concept – I’m feeling a bit slow – running out of intellectual steam – deeply analytical and philosophical is a bit much to ask right now, LOL! I also don’t understand a lingering reservation, other than it might be because there are times when Jan-Henrik Ohme reminds me a little of Thom Yorke and despite being vastly superior to Radiohead, generally, and not being imposters musically speaking – it's a little bit nagging. I guess I’m reluctantly intrigued which is not necessarily a bad thing. Beats the hell out of all the crass, disgusting words (I refuse to call them lyrics) that are doing the rounds.
The cover artwork is intended to depict the complexity of neurons, the “Fireworker” and also the “Space Cowboy” (two of the song titles) living deep within our psyche. I will give the band this – I haven’t heard anything new I’ll make a concerted effort to understand in a very long time, other than Abel Ganz. Wiki calls them ‘classical post-ambient nocturnal atmospheric neo-progressive folk world rock’ which kinda lives up to their name - the result of a self-professed unlikely mix of people – all six of ‘em. Unlike the clean fresh flavours of the spicy vibrant soup, however, the underlying northern angst remains along with a dash of the ominous ...
This is from their site - http://gazpachoworld.com/music/fireworker/
“For nearly twenty years, Gazpacho have reigned as the kings of atmospheric and affective art rock. That’s certainly no small feat, as the subgenre is full of wonderfully moody, ornate, and emotional artists; yet, none of them manage to achieve the same level of exquisite baroque resonance and hypnotically introspective weight as the Norwegian sextet. As a result, they never fail to provide awe-inspiring examinations of the human condition, and their latest observation, Fireworker, is no exception. It is undoubtedly among their greatest achievements, as well as one of the most profound pieces of music you’ll hear in 2020.
Conceptually, the album follows the band’s tradition of blending grand philosophical quandaries, stimulating literary leanings, and haunting personal turmoil. In a way, it acts as the culmination of the themes and techniques that’ve decorated earlier collections, combining the fatalistic isolation of Night and Missa Atropos; the ill-fated narrative drama of Tick Tock and Soyuz; and the hefty theological/scientific contemplations of Demon and Molok. Beyond that, its central premise (that humanity has always been controlled by an infallible and omniscient creature determined to propagate at any cost) means that Fireworker comes across like the overarching umbrella under which all of its predecessors occur.
Keyboardist Thomas Andersen elucidates: “There’s an instinctual part of you that lives inside your mind, separate from your consciousness. I call it the ‘Fireworker’ or the ‘Lizard’ or the ‘Space Cowboy.’ It’s an eternal and unbroken lifeforce that’s survived every generation, with a new version in each of us. It’s evolved alongside our consciousness, and it can override us and control all of our actions.” In order to get us to do what it wants, he clarifies, the “Fireworker” will silence the parts of our mind that feel disgust or remorse so that we’re unable to stop it. The conscious part of our mind, Andersen notes, will actually “rationalize and legitimize” those thoughts and actions so that we never discover the beast behind-the-scenes. No matter how we feel about ourselves in terms of identity, accomplishments, and value, we’re all just vessels—or “Sapiens”—that the creature uses until it no longer needs us. “If you play along,” Andersen explains, “It’ll reward you like a puppy and let you feel fantastic; if you don’t, it’ll punish you severely.”
Like Night, Fireworker is a single “trip” broken into five chapters but meant to be appreciated all at once. This time, however, Gazpacho’s recurring protagonist is investigating the labyrinthian hive of his own psyche to engage in a Bergman-esque confrontation with the “Fireworker.” This journey is even represented by the Wimmelbilder cover, which, as usual, was designed by collaborator Antonio Seijas and depicts “the billions of neurons that create the cave of the mind”.
Five tracks in all, three sandwiched by a 19.41 and a 15.22 epic neither of which I'll post, for the sake of brevity.
"Hourglass" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLbyyBYq6uc
The title track ...
"The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us." ~ Bill Watterson
