Reviews: Morgenmusic/Nachtschlager
THE BIG TAKEOVER
by
Michael Toland
Barbeau’s productivity is matched only by his consistency—the Sacramento-to-Berlin-and-back auteur makes records like others cook meals, and misses the mark extremely rarely.
Morgenmusik/Nachtschlager is his second double album in the past three years, and that’s not counting the three others that came out between this and 2020’s Manbird—not one of them came within spitting distance of sucking. What makes M/N even better than its cous- ins is the introduction of new sounds to his psych/electro/power-pop—different rhythmic approaches, a whimsical use of samples, and a general air of one chapter ending and another beginning. From the silliness of “Dumb Thumpin” and strangeness of “Milksnake” to the simplicity of “Come Back” and brilliance of “What Did the Operator Say,” it never misses.
SHINDIG
by
Ben Graham
Written and recorded in California and Berlin and taking inspiration from the poetry of Frank O'Hara and Iggy Pop's The Idiot, Barbeau's umpteenth LP in 30-odd years is a sprawling double set that gleefully embraces the production-line principles of German schlager pop, if not necessarily the sound.
On the Cali side of the scoresheet, "Waiting on the Radio" is classic jangly AM pop, nostalgic yet timeless, while dark forces surface on "Mothership Projection" and "Gambit." Barbeau goes moody Bowie on "What Did the Operator Say" and "Ding Dong (Wake-Up)," before the pure Buddy Holly bop of "Come Back," apparently the first song a young Anton ever wrote. Linked together by surreal pseudo-adverts and featuring a host of heavy friends, the album is complemented by a separate CD of remixes by other Gare Du Nord acts (Papernut Cambridge's "goth club remix" of kraut-disco banger "Circustime Train" is our favourite). Go buy!
LET IT ROCK
by
Dmitry M. Epstein
First taking California, then taking on Berlin: American smith of über-alles tune finally rules the waves.
Despite the fact that his discography spans four decades and around thirty albums, Anton Barbeau’s name somehow escaped attention of most music lovers – even those well-attuned to the oeuvre of his frequent collaborators, including members of XTC and THE BEVIS FROND – but that’s about to change soon, as the issue of this double-titled platter should bring the Californian singer-songwriter to the brink of worldwide recognition. And while the whopping 31 tracks on display may look menacing, seeming to bring in sensory overload, some of them are short interludes that thematically link larger pieces, and they’re varied enough to keep the listener entertained for the entire duration of the dawn-to-dusk program.
Yes, a program transmitted straight into one’s living room, as opener “Waiting On The Radio” suggests rather overtly via Barbeau’s soft voice wrapped around acoustic strum and electric riffs to shape an infectious song bolstered by Colin Moulding’s various ivories and backing vocals. But then the piano-propelled “Bop” introduces a harder texture – as though to contrast its “Maybe we could get along” refrain, a line to recur later – to support prog-rock spaciousness and proper groove which “Beautiful Look” will amplify and further. There’s quite a few arresting stories woven into Anton’s narrative, the reggae ballad “Ganja On The Farm” going for the jugular, and the dramatic “Pull The Veil Away” painting dadaistic pictures, yet there’s a romantic thread too, running through the likes of “Milkshake” which has been given an exquisite flamenco lace, courtesy of Miguel Padilla, or “Gabay D’lito” which rides the profound wave of chamber sorrow. Still, “Mothership Projection” bristles with harmonic funk, and “Chrono Optik” reflects the artist’s fascination with the Berlin School of electronica even more clearly – Barbeau lived in German capital, after all – letting the ebullient dub of “Dumb Thumping” boil and bubble with Jeff Simons’ bass to reveal Anton’s Mellotron amid the sonic assault.
The purer his pop slant is the more irresistible these cuts are, and such scintillating tracks as “Gambit” and “Dog Go Zombie” feel effusive in their humorous sentiments; only the romp of “Greasy” and the polyphony of “Coming Clean” – two differently paced but mutually complementing, albeit deceptively so, compositions – take this effervescence towards psychedelic spectrum. However, if the warmness of “Come Back” whose Buddy-Holly-esque jive offers the kindred spirits a time-warp, the otherwise sweet “Nachtschlager” has a cold orchestral touch to it, whereas the epic finale of “Help Yourself To A Biscuit” unfolds a cosmically mesmeric, new-wave-colored and raga-spiced tapestry. Bright and exhilarating, here’s an album to battle suburban boredom with.
****1/2
MUSOSCRIBE
by Bill Kopp
Some things in life are a sure thing. One of those is the fact that Anton Barbeau can be counted on to produce fascinating and worthwhile music. His latest release, the double set Morgenmusik / Nachtschlager does nothing to change that fact. What sets it apart – if just a bit – from his body of work as a whole, is that it leans toward the more accessible end of his work. While Barbeau’s talents are such that he’s equally at home making (if you will) quirky albums as he is making irresistibly tuneful creations, on this project he displays more of the latter. And while both are indisputably worthwhile, righthereandright now feels decidedly like the time and place for the ear candy.
Moregenmusik opens with a pair of bouquets for the aural appendages. “Waiting on the Radio” is truth in labeling: it’s so catchy that it belongs on the airwaves, a place where the world can hear it. “Bop” is built around a memorable phrase, a sturdy lick and a splashy drum figure.
From there, Morgenmusik heads into a pair of suites, “Milk” and “Clean.” Each is a collection of multiple songs that fit together. The four tunes in the “Milk Suite” are a varied lot: “Milksnake” is a fetching minor-key tun, and “Maa” is Middle Eastern vocalisms. While its title might suggest some P-Funkism, “Mothership Projection” is a hypnotic dancefloor raver. “Gambit” is more solid, melodic pop, and Andy Metcalfe’s distinctive bass work — you’d recognize it – is all over it and several others besides.
Speaking (though we weren’t) of XTC, “Greasy,” the first in the “Clean Suite” sounds very much like that group, albeit with Ant’s trademark vocals out front. Charlotte tupman peels out a lovely solo, too. “Coming Clean” is a bit of melancholy set against a beautiful, uncluttered arrangement.
“Dog Go Zombie” is some lyrical weirdness weeded to a conventionally (in the best sense of the term) pop tune. “Gabay D’Lito” probably means something profound in whatever language it’s in; either way it’s a delightful tune. “I Demand a Dream” is an ace Barbeau-style take on mid-’60s freakbeat/proto-power pop/whatever. “Circustime Train” rocks, with a vaguely ELO character to it. The quick, multilayered “Hindi Morgen” closes the album in Sell Out style.
And that’s only the half of it! Nachschlager translates literally “night hit,” but in Germany, a schlager is a particularly kitschy sort of melody, something that Barbeau’s music is not). “Chrono Optik” is a bit of meccanik dancing, as it were. “Beautiful Look” is some irresistible dance-rock with crunchy guitar. “Dumb Thumping” draws from the varied character of Barbeau’s last few albums, most notably those krautrock leaning ones.
“Kottbusser Blues” isn’t nearly as teutonic as its title suggests; it’s a languid, tune reminiscent of “I’m So Tired.” Intentionally stiff electronic drums inform “What Did the Operator Say?” The album features a number of brief interstitial sonic pieces that showcase Ant’s quirky side. They’re pretty amusing, too.
“Ding Dong (Wake Up)” synthesizes all of Barbeau’s musical virtues into the space of three and a half minutes Which, as it happens, is (with an exception to which we’ll get presently) about as long as any of the tunes on these albums gets. On this double set, Barbeau distills his musical ideas down to readily digestible bits. He packs a lot into each tune, too.
“Pull the Veil Away” is moody, vaguely baroque pop-rock. “Come Back” is a slice of early ‘80s nostalgia, Ant-meets-Cars style. “Nachtschlager” is tough to describe: it features a martial beat and some fascinating sounds (including squalling guitar) worked into the mix. And it’s way better than that description might suggest.
The brief “Cranking Em Out” could be Anton Barbeau’s theme, so prolific an artist is he. The album closes with an outlier: the six-minutes-plus “Help Yourself to a Biscuit.” It’s as close to progressive rock as Ant gets on this set, journeying through multiple musical passages. It’s an unlikely way to end an album of tidy tunes, but it works.
Barbeau’s latest is filled with guest appearances: Metcalfe, Colin Moulding, Charlie Crabtree, Peter Daltrey, Allyson Seconds, Donald Ross Skinner, Michael Urbano, Chris Stamey, Larry Tagg and other pals drop by to help. But unexpectedly and with few exceptions, what they add fits so seamlessly into the album that you might not even notice it’s them.
Morgenmusik / Nachtschlager is, finally, a lot to take in. But it’s well worth whatever effort that might require.
TERRASCOPE
by Jeff Penczak
Musical wunderkind Barbeau delivers this doppelgänger set vaguely tiptoeing through Berlin’s day (morgen) and night (nacht) life. Writing progressed through repeated trips back and forth between Berlin and California (I’ll let you guess which was morning and which surveyed the night life!) with the double disk set eventually recorded by over two dozen musicians, singers, speakers, yodelers, and yelpers in various studios and homes across three continents aided and abetted no doubt by unknown quantities of [sch]lager! Thus emerged a veritable Cabaret for the 21st century, the plot thickened into a hazy goo somewhere along the way with the album affectionately Siamese-twinned into Morgenschlager somewhere over the rainbow and across the Atlantic. There were even plans for a third disc of quiet, folky tunes that went fahren, fahren, fahren auf der autobahn and a selection of groovy remixes may someday see the light of morgen…or nacht.
What remains was performed by Barbeau and over two dozen friends, musicians, past and present (and possibly future) bandmates, and relatives including Rosie Abbott, The Red Curtain from XTC, Bryan Poole from Terrastock performers Elf Power, Peter Daltrey from Kaleidoscope, Julian Cope collaborator Donald Ross Skinner, dB Chris Stamey, American Civil War expert Larry Tagg and his Bourgeois Tagg rhythm section partner, drummer Michael Urbano, and members of The Luck Of Eden Hall, Barbeau’s trio Three Minute Tease with Andy Metcalfe and Morris Windsor from The Soft Boys and Robyn Hitchcock’s Egyptians, and the ever popular “She who cannot be named for stealthy legal reasons” but who you may recognize by her Hindi voice. The point of rattling off this cast of dozens is to emphasize the collaborative effort, not to mention the great expense, frequent flyer miles, and possibly unlimited quantities of [sch]lager that came together to create this hoot ‘n’ nanny…
…which begins with Ant, Rosie, Metcalfe, Skinner, Stamey, and Red Curtain supergrouping their way through ‘Waiting On The Radio’, a Laurel Canyonesque mellow vibefest that everyone can relate to - waiting to hear a favourite song on the wireless. The ghost of Mr. Bowie is also near to hand in Ant’s delivery, supplemented by Stamey’s “ghost harmonies.” Urbano’s powerful drumming and Metcalfe’s throbbing bass punctuates the fodderstomping ‘Bop,’ which leads us into the proggy “Milk Suite” comprised of an enigmatic ‘Milksnake’, Kinkini Deb’s haunting call to prayer ‘Maa’, some Parliament-styled funky disco bodyswerving to the ‘Mothership Projection’ (complete with sly Dylanesque lyrical reference), and a cautionary toetapper ‘Gambit’ featuring an eagerly anticipated Three Minute Tease reunion.
This being an Anton Barbeau joint (sorry, Mr. Lee), there’re not one, but two suites, so toote de suite we slide into the three-part “Clean Suite” which opens with ‘Greasy’ (naturally!). It’s easy, sleazy, and quite breezy, with Charlotte Tupman’s screaming guitars an added highlight. A short commercial break (a la The Who Sell Out?) to pitch ‘Blacklight Clean’, and we dry off after a dip in the bathtub and we’re all ‘Coming Clean.’
There’s no way to get ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ out of your head once ‘Dog Go Zombie’ enters the fray, but the cha-cha-cha shuffle carries you through and ‘I Demand A Dream’ paints some sunny cellophane skies and marmalade pies with lysergic lyrics and Peter Daltrey’s kaleidoscopic narration for a psychedelic journey to the center of your mind’s eye. There’s some nice fuzzy wuzzy guitar and Ziggy-esque narration on the glitter and glitzy ‘Circustime Train’ to end disc one on a high note.
Turning now to eine kleine Nachstschlager (“the sound of heaving”), we might expect a darker listening experience, but opening salvo, the motorific krautrockin’ ‘Chrono Optik’ could set Donna Summer’s heart a-flutter and ‘Beautiful Look’ is insanely infectious. I’m not quite sure how Lindsay Buckingham fits into ‘Dumb Thumping’ but freaking out on ‘Granny’s Gummy Crumpets’ may help that bash and get you ready for birthday celebrations courtesy the ‘Ding Dong (Wake Up)’ call.
Easter eggs a-plenty populate Ant’s lyrics (‘Ganja On The Farm’) and make for a neat drinking game - take a shot every time you correctly identify a song (e.g., listen closely for Trio’s ‘Da Da Da’, a possible nod to Wizz Jones in ‘Colin’s [Moulding] Onion’ (?), et.al.) and I enjoyed the pseudo-FM DJ drop ins (‘KANT-FM’ - get it?) and more Sell Out adverts that create that olde tyme radio- listening experience. They got me digging out Country Joe’s ‘Acid Commercial’ to relive the experience!
So pull up a chair, put up your feet, pour yourself some refreshment, roll up some ganja from the farm, and ‘Help Yourself To A Biscuit’ (B.A.D. reference?) - DJ Ant & Co. have a pleasant listening experience in store for you.
© Anton Barbeau. Photo of Anton by Karen Eng. Web site: interbridge.
