Album Review: Various Artists, International Space Station Vol. 1 Split 2LP
It’s a pretty clever play on the idea of an International Space Station. The ‘international’ part: four bands, each from a different country. ‘Space’: well yeah, everybody here gets decidedly cosmic, thank you kindly. ‘Station’: there’s enough of it to make either your own radio or land your starship on, however you choose to interpret the word. One likes to think it’s in an optimistic spirit that Worst Bassist Records brings together Nashville, Tennessee’s ElonMusk — who probably regret that moniker by now — Electric Moon from Germany, Swedish jammers Kungens Män and Norway’s Kanaan to pay conceptual homage on the International Space Station Vol. I four-way, all-instrumental, 88-minute split double-vinyl to the most genuine evidence of what humans can achieve when collaborating across their own pretend/tribal borders, reminding us that even as the international order teeters (war in Eastern Europe, pandemic, climate change, on and on) and such cooperation feels ever rarer, the possibility of a better way exists.
Each band gets a side, and uses it for one song. It is something of a surprise to find an American band included here at all — Europsych has a tendency toward insularity; it looks out for its own and in the past I’ve perceived a bit of nose-up as regards many US acts; obviously not the case this time — but ElonMusk not only get a quarter of the ‘station’ to themselves, they go first. Thus “Gods of the Swamp Planet” (22:02) unfurls its synth-laced mellow roll a headphone-ready expanse of tripped-out serenity. Floating guitars, floating synth, subtle flourish on the toms and cymbals (thinking of the ride at about nine minutes in), and it’s an outbound motion that builds from the initial drone of keyboards as the guitar, bass and drums arrive, set and launch the course, setting their own mood and that for the release as a whole. Just as “Gods of the Swamp Planet” seems to hit its comedown, at 13:28, a louder and more uptempo movement starts, still with the synth droning out behind, but the drums hit harder, the guitars soar higher, and a post-Earthless triumph rings out, if only or about two minutes. It feels live if it isn’t, in part because of the residual energy carried over as “Gods of the Swamp Planet” settles down again, but at 18:37, it turns back to its squibbly scorcher lead and more fervent nod, and rides that groove until residual drone carries it out.
Side flip. For pleasant surprises, Electric Moon‘s “Duality” (15:46) is the shortest inclusion, but offers a markedly uptempo take, immediately digging into the space rock purpose hinted at in the split’s title and apparent theme. The band recently shifted lineup, bidding farewell to Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt, and I’m not sure whether this is their first song without or their last with him — the lineup is now “Komet Lulu” Neudeck (who also runs Worst Bassist Records) on bass, Johannes “Joe Muff” Schaffer on guitar and Bernhard “Pablo Carneval” Fasching on drums — but the band’s long-established modus of immersive and cosmic instrumental heavy psych is given extra flash through a steady percussive tension and a swath of layered guitar effects, smoke trailing their way through the consciousness as “Duality” careens toward its midpoint. Shortly thereafter, a break to silence and a measure of transitional guitar leaves a blank slate from whence the guitar and keys begin to rebuild a post-rock pastoralia, a serene six-minute contemplation that’s a standout from Electric Moon‘s work to this point, if one that carries a familiar hypnosis forward to new ground. Perhaps that’s the band’s portrayal of cross-cultural fellowship. If so, it should rightly be considered a focus point for the release as a whole.
Record switch. The second platter finds prolific Stockholm collective Kungens Män already in motion by the time the needle hits the platter, bending space, time and their own strings as “Keeper of the One Key” (23:24) unfolds its they’re-already-gone-and-it’s-time-for-you-to-go-too interstellar languidity. Smoothly delivered as ever for the band — class explorers through and through — the guitar turns to an improvised sounding bounce and starts running scales at about nine minutes in, but the truth is if you’re not on board by then, Kungens Män have already left without you. But don’t worry, there’s time to catch up as they dig, dig, dig into the realms of hidden matter and unknowable energies, physics turning into so much lazy-eyed goo in their capable, moderating control. It’s not quite as drastic a second-half departure as that of Electric Moon before them, but “Keeper of the One Key” shifts into a more distorted lead tone after hitting the 20-minute mark and caps with a bit of chug to wash down all the prior noodling, its long fade capturing the moment when the jam probably came apart but still giving a sense of the various infinities surrounding Kungens Män as they elicit deeply entrancing calm out of chaos. It’s also telling that as International Space Station Vol. I plays out, the songs get longer.
On that note, one more side flip — and/or a format switch — to the digital-only-because-it-wouldn’t-fit-on-a-12″-anyway “Beyond” (27:43) from Kanaan, who follow 2021’s Earthbound (review here) and herald the upcoming Diversions Vol. I: Softly Through Sunshine with evocative-of-waves ribboning astral jazz. Never mind that with its runtime it’s an album unto itself, “Beyond” underscores both journey and arrival for this collection, gradually making its way into a slow wash of melody and breadth. Should there be any residual doubt the Oslo-based troupe are as we speak positioning themselves as one of the foremost purveyors of next-generation European heavy psychedelia — not an insignificant crowd from which to distinguish themselves — the apparent ease with which they drift into and through the piece’s midsection and out toward the encompassing and louder finish is marked by patience as well as vigor. The final element to go is a howling guitar — convenient aural analog for the outing as a whole — but by the time they’ve gotten there, Kanaan have asserted their emergent mastery over the expanding omniverse of their sound. “Beyond” reminds that time is a construct and the best thing you can do with your mind is expand it. If you want elevated consciousness, then you need to get on that elevator.
United in purpose and largely in mood, International Space Station Vol. I may be the start of a series, or like so many ‘vol. I’ outings, it may not. I won’t claim to know. For right now — such as it is with that whole “time is a construct” thing — the efforts on the part of Neudeck in bringing these acts together are not to be undervalued, and while splits and compilations are often the realm of tossoffs, leftover recordings, etc., this version of the ISS reminds of the incredible capacity human beings have when willing to set aside largely-imaginary differences of demographic and opinion in favor of unity. It wants nothing for substance, building structure from formlessness. Beautiful in ideology and execution.
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Tags: Berlin, Electric Moon, ElonMusk, Germany, International Space Station Vol. I, Kanaan, Kungens Män, Nashville, Norway, Stockholm, Sweden, Tennessee, Various Artists, Various Artists International Space Station Vol. I, Worst Bassist Records
