#KARLSON VIBE SHEET MUSIC FULL#
This gig signals an abrupt change of tone from icy, digital bleeps and blurts to full on romantic synth swells. Then a glorious surprise a six piece known as Eesti Elektroonilise Seltsi Ansambel play tracks from Sven Grünberg’s glorious 1979 LP, Hingus. On this evidence, Vera Vice are very, very good. Even the breakdown of the final “long” song (attempted twice) just makes things better. Amidst the silences we are told that some songs are “very long” and “very slow”. The two women, serene and unmoved by glitterball or elephant, patiently apply themselves to their task. At times there is a definite sinking quality, as if we are being lowered by lift into a subterranean space, or sitting in a submarine, listening to depth charges. It is sexy non-music, consisting of sloth-like hooks and arch but weirdly comforting vocals. Dressed austerely in black and white, Vera Vice build up a slightly atonal, velvety hum that has the crowd in a woozy thrall. His music is best described as an exciting set of ‘Zuckerzeit’-style non-pop proto-rave glitches and blurts that refract, shatter and reform into new hybrids.įollowing Roland is Vera Vice, a brand new duo who play some of the strangest, simplest electronic pop I have heard in years. Roland lives up to the love with an all-too-short twenty minute set full of strange about-turns and intriguing sonic puzzles. Amongst the drawn hearts and emojis nestles a simple message: “We love you, Roland”. We are expectant as we’ve already spotted an elegant longhair who has brought along a homemade placard.
It’s groovy.įirst up and setting the tone for the whole night is local maverick Roland Karlson. New Wave it is not but I can imagine Bryan Ferry owning it. A gigantic glitterball, whose tik-tok sometimes intrudes into the ambience, and a large green elephant's head complete the scene. The bar sells (and I quote the laidback barman) some “cucumber herb liquor shit”. A renovated shack that smells like a sauna, Uus Laine boasts a seedy bungalow ranch style including “kosmische” toilets with painted galaxies and vintage pictures of doubtful provenance. Uus Laine (which translates as New Wave) is one an intriguing venue behind the station that hosts the brilliant Heaven’s Trumpet label showcase of wyrd Estonian electronics on the closing night. Tallinn seems to be full of joints that magically appear like the spaces found at the other end of Mr Benn’s costume shop. The festival is also known for picking surprising locations for its showcases. There is room for a slew of properly “out-there” Latvian, Russian and Italian acts, too. Unsurprisingly, Tallinn Music Week is stuffed full of variations on this musical style, including a stunning premiere of a weeklong international residency called ‘Themes For Great Cities: Tallinn’, the work of Jonas Kaarnamets and Erki Pärnoja, Mew’s Jonas Bjerre and American musicologist Alex Maiolo. Kosmos – the Estonian word for space – is also one that can easily be associated with the country’s electronic music stratospheric sounds have been forged by the modern classical rebels of the 1960s, Sven Grünberg’s kosmische theatrics on the cusp of the 1980s and this century’s electronauts such as Kiwa, Anni Nöps and Hendrik Kaljujärv. Shamingly – or encouragingly – for us Brits, there is open consensus that pan-European creative alliances are needed more than ever.
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