PAUL SCHÜTZE – The Sky Torn Apart

Glacial Movements

You can’t possibly have an idea of the hundreds of negligible releases sent this way that look for a spot in the “discounted dark ambient / threadbare installation soundtrack / counterfeit Lustmord copy” realm. By now three minutes of the first track are sufficient to diagnose the shittiness of an album (though I tend to complete the listening session out of personal principles, unless it’s genuinely insufferable mullock). It just so happens that – one day amidst the many devoted to deleting spam and yawning through useless stuff – Glacial Movements’ head honcho Alessandro Tedeschi notifies the return on disc of Paul Schütze. Suddenly, the rest of my activities becomes dispensable.

I had nearly given up the hope of receiving a new CD from the Australian while occasionally reminiscing about his veritable milestones in the early 90s (post-Laughing Hands, which – for the record – I also liked). Moreover, Schütze is fondly remembered here as a committed reviewer in The Wire’s finest era. In strictly musical terms, we’re happy to report that almost nothing has changed in regard to psychological repercussion, engineering subtlety and, so to speak, “humble superbness” of the outcome. The Sky Torn Apart revolves around an inspiring raison d’etre that goes beyond the mere distinction of its acoustic physiognomy. It’s a wordless contemplation on the destiny of this planet: the fucked scene we’re acting in, tyrannized by a hopeless mediocrity transpiring from practically everything.

Therefore, what better than Schütze’s unfixed precision to be reminded that it’s still possible to create art from the junction of silence, rarefied materiality and inwardness? In such a place, every single occurrence is naturally positioned where it should; resonances are crystalline even in total darkness; undying echoes from nowhere and transients of uncertain origin weigh the same. The perception of immensity conveyed by this work is proportional to its dissociation from the genre’s routines; surrounded by this knowledge, we start envisioning the possibility of a comprehensive purification. Staying there to enjoy the finale won’t be feasible, but it’s good to be aware of the sublime exactness of the real universal laws. Neither manufactured nor dictated, they have existed forever as resounding infinitude.

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