2004/11/21
Langendorf. Spots of light dance on the ceiling. The old disco ball spins dusty in the colorful light. In the nostalgic, rustic ambience of the former “Lucifer” discotheque in Langendorf, an unusually small number of guests have turned up for this Sunday evening's solo concert for the Gorleben resistance. Blame yourself if you didn't come. After all, the almost four-hour performance by “Embryo”, one of the oldest German rock bands, was great music. This music collective has been around for 35 years, is one of the co-founders of world music and has passed by numerous styles and trends. Since then, 400 musicians have played in the band from Munich, which has constantly changed its sound. Among them are well-known greats such as ex-Xhol Hansi Fischer, Dauner's Et-Cetera Sigi Schwab, ex-Passport Jimmy Jackson and Kathargo founding member GeraId Luciano Hartwig. Christian Burchard, one of the veterans and a master of magic not only on the vibraphone, was joined on Sunday by top-class young musicians. Bavarian dulcimer, bamboo flute from Turkey, oud (kink-necked lute), marimba, drums and bass. The sounds move cautiously towards each other. With a piece from Cairo, the band opens the gates to an endlessly dazzling variety of sounds. We are only too happy to take a seat on the soft rhythmic carpet of sound, willingly following the winding creative paths of this carefree music, which Embryo draws from the bursting oriental pool of a “highly complicated, wonderful musical culture”. A dense web of finely spun improvisations is laid over the collected pieces, Turkish gypsy rhythms, slave songs from Morocco and much more. Wandered through from the inside, absorbed down to the smallest detail, the pieces develop a life of their own. Timeless jazz, sometimes softly melancholic, sometimes rocking, full of ecstasy and joy of playing, the concert becomes an endless, musically swirling flow that you cannot escape. Music that leaves no questions unanswered. Perhaps just one: Why is the little smoking man sitting in front of the band? Sitting cross-legged, he seems to disappear almost completely in his hair and posture. But there is an answer to that too: Mik Quantius is the voice from Cologne that sings “like we perhaps only know it from Eskimos”. His guttural shamanic singing slides archaically into the bouncy soundscapes of the instrumental background. Almost plaintive, just a rough croaking, cooing and buzzing. Whale song, ghostly voices ? Possessed by whom or by what? The hair flies wildly now, the magical voice fills the room, only to collapse again immediately afterwards. Sink into yourself and into a fog of cigarette vapor. Anyone who missed this extraordinary concert event has every right to be annoyed. Elbezeitung, 2004/11/22
Source: embryo.de, 2005