Dunst, Archimedes Waffen: Daily Mantras
Originally recorded in 2011 and digitally released in 2013, the second and final full-length, Archimedes Waffen, from German progressive heavy psych instrumentalists Dunst sees a revived presence in the physical realm thanks to a new vinyl issue on Electric Magic Records, the imprint helmed by Samsara Blues Experiment guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters. Dunst‘s relationship with that band goes even deeper than the label association as well, since Archimedes Waffen was recorded by SBE bassist Richard Behrens at Big Snuff Studio in Berlin, about 90 minutes south of Dunst‘s former hometown of Templin. There are some shared sonic elements too, but it rings more like a commonality of mindset than direct influence. Dunst — which prior to disbanding was comprised of guitarist Daniel Rexhausen, bassist Johannes Schulz, drummer Philip Marschall and effects noisemaker/vocalist Sebastian Adolph (there are way more effects noises on the album than there are vocals) — released their self-titled debut in 2011, and here on the follow-up, they come across well established within a heavy psychedelic approach to jamming. Over the course of six extended tracks, they explore the spaces between such heavyweights as Colour Haze, My Sleeping Karma, Causa Sui, and indeed Samsara Blues Experiment, while working in the pursuit of their own musical identity. Already pushing the bounds of vinyl at 53 minutes, the Electric Magic version of Archimedes Waffen cuts down the original album length from over an hour, pulling out an intro, outro and the 10-minute “Vincent Raven,” which can still be heard on the digital edition, and jumbles the original tracklisting to take better advantage of an LP’s two-sided structure. Nonetheless, Archimedes Waffen remains an immersive slice of heavy jamming, familiar in some aspects but portraying a building character in progress.
Adolph‘s synth swirl and other effects go a long way in adding to that personality early on, giving the mix more depth than it might otherwise have. In comparison to Dunst‘s first outing — putting aside a somewhat rawer production as well — Archimedes Waffen presents a much broader range, the relaxed stretches of opener “Kincha King” immediately engaging the listener with a patient, hypnotic roll, where parts of Dunst‘s Dunst feel a little more jagged with just Rexhausen, Schulz, and Marschall present. It’s a smoother sound on the second album, in other words, and as the 10-minute launch point gives way to the title-track — which, with “We Can Try to Play Like or We Can Try…” and “Hammerhigh,” is one of three cuts that hovers just on the other side of seven and a half minutes long; as brief as Dunst get — that fluidity is maintained, and Adolph adds to the roll and chemistry found well intact from the other three players. Rexhausen takes a lead prior to the midsection of “Archimedes Waffen” that’s almost as impressive for how Schulz and Marschall meet it head-on for the guitarist’s own playing, and they continue to move endearingly through peaks and valleys, taking a ground-up linear build in the second half of the track to its natural, voluminous conclusion. The subsequent “We Can Try to Play Like or We Can Try…” is similarly structured with two distinct payoffs, but presents a different take with a more prominent bass from Schulz (not a complaint) and airier noodling in the guitars contrasted by active jazz drumming. There’s less of Adolph as side A rounds out with a peaceful fade, but by then Dunst have established an open feel that would seem to allow the effects wash to come and go as it pleases without interrupting the overarching flow.
Particularly over repeat listens, side B seems to be where Archimedes Waffen states the case for its progressivism. Still warm in their fuzz tones and organic in their feel overall, Dunst plot a more complex course across the 9:33 “Dhimahi Prachodayat,” and that’s where some of the earlier My Sleeping Karma feel comes in, but as they kick into a faster push at the four-minute mark, Dunst seem to find a desert rock angularity of their own, somewhat reminiscent of Blaak Heat Shujaa‘s quick turns derived from Yawning Man‘s ambient spaces, but with an underlying threat in Rexhausen‘s lower, distorted tone. They bring “Dhimahi Prachodayat” to a head, though seem to hold back from going full-force, and “Hammerhigh” comes on with a shout, faster rush of drums and heavier riffing. There’s a matching yell at the end of the track — indistinguishable and likely in German — and those make for the only discernible vocals on Archimedes Waffen, but between them, “Hammerhigh” brings about some of Dunst‘s most satisfying material, a somewhat less patient but more distinctly plotted feel taking hold for the duration as they wind their way up and down scales and on-a-dime tempo and rhythmic changes. It’s the heaviest cut as well, but that’s only half the point. What makes it all the more impressive is the counterpoint delivered by closer “Agathe and Saturnia,” which offers Dunst at their proggiest, the guitar leading the way through an 11-minute exploration of switched-on chemistry. What the last two songs emphasize especially is the fact that Dunst may have birthed these tracks in jams, but they’ve then taken those jams and then turned them into actual songs. That vibe pervades as “Agathe and Saturnia” flows from an introductory build into minimal guitar, bass and drum ambience, rising and falling and rising again in instrumental undulations to end Archimedes Waffen on its richest structural note — it’s worth pointing out that it closed the original version of the album as well — as the final movement returns to the beginning, tying it and the album as a whole together neatly while giving the hint that Dunst‘s songwriting could’ve come forward more their next time out. As it’s been three years since Archimedes Waffen was put to tape, there have been others come along to fill this sonic void, but while Dunst won’t be following this album with another, they still show a development that was underway, and might’ve been worth pursuing.
