This relationship is particularly apparent with GAS, the German’s most influential alias to date (of which there are too many to count). After a flurry of four notable album releases at the end of the 20th century, the entity seemingly ceased its public existence, spare a handful of singles for compilations on his founded label, Cologne-based Kompakt. Through its releases over twenty-plus years, Voigt’s modus operandi has been readily apparent, albeit indirectly. Artists often marry his trademark 4/4 drum beat and transparent melodicism with tasteful restraint.

The same could hardly be said for the tempering of any collective anticipation ahead of GAS’ audiovisual performance at the Art Institute of Chicago, a fitting venue for the only Midwest stop on Voigt’s first US tour in 9 years. Less than twelve months removed from his stunning comeback Narkopop, an ambitious concept album recreating the hallucinogenic wanderings through the forests in adolescence, the conspicuous lack of detail surrounding the show left much to the imagination. By the time that his all-black silhouette emerged from the periphery of the auditorium, the surrealism of Voigt’s presence and artform merged into one, leaving only the spectacle of his remarkable talent.

What followed was equal parts magisterial and difficult to comprehend. Narkopop played without a single utterance coming from the stage, nor a pause in the billowing swells of its ten sections. From the onset, the chromatic spread behind Voigt’s setup shifted and morphed into an arboreal masterpiece; each song grew out of indistinguishable colors and shapes into stooping branches and vivid flora. Meanwhile, the soundscapes crafted from a combination of synthesizer, programming module, and a Macbook left a figurative cloud stretching outward toward the audience, helped along by the ingeniously streamlined delivery of its low-end rhythm section.

With each seamless transition from track to track, a panning backdrop helped communicate the music’s awareness and sense of space: where one track’s flats and sharps created a sense of claustrophobia, the next hovered lightly in luminous delight. Further, the rotating color palette of a deciduous canopy pushed forward with an ever-present kick drum, prevented the possibility of the movement becoming stagnant.

In part due to its visionary composition, and in part due to favorable acoustics and sound engineering, momentum permeated the space from the front row to the top balcony. Elusiveness, whether by curiosity or impending doom, was a constant force for the entirety of the show’s eighty-odd minutes.

The physical experience of GAS’ return was both contiguous with and distinct from what can easily be considered an immaculate electronic recording. Layers and subtleties within the record appeared in starkness and grandeur; allusions to the natural world were domineering and imperious in their stature alongside the twists and turns of veering projections.

In the wake of the set’s final moments, the room exuded tangible nostalgia of the halcyon days from which Voigt’s inspiration was derived. As the final, kaleidoscopic visuals transformed, three letters emerged: G-A-S. Almost painfully direct, and with a quick wave to the crowd, the darkly dressed figure was gone, but the eminence of his creation remained. His work a marvel, and his stature immeasurable.

Pre-order GAS’ Narkopop follow-up, Rausch, out May 18th, and available for pre-order here. Get discounts on Torrid.com.

The post The Pulse: An Evening with GAS at the Art Institute of Chicago appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The cosmic music of Jon Hopkins creates living, breathing, and luminous worlds, unequivocally removed from our own, and existing beyond time and space. Illusive in the way that it defies simple classification, there’s consistency in the attention to detail in each of his works, whether they be his painfully infrequent solo works or more visible collaborations, like those with Brian Eno, friend and composer Leo Abrahams, and Coldplay (ever heard of Viva la Vida?). 

This transportation isn’t a mere consequence of a process, but rather the heart of its purpose, as well as the benchmark of its success. The further removed from reality, and the more entrenched in the resulting meditative trance, the better.

This creative profile is little changed over a seventeen year period, but the form of its final product certainly has evolved. A debut LP, 2001’s Opalescent, resided in the space dust of 90s minimal electronica (think Global Communication or Seefeel), while the sweeps of synthesizer littered throughout Contact Note added a new layer of depth to his atmospherics. By the time Immunity, Hopkins’ most thoughtful and vibrant material yet, released in 2013, the amorphous tendencies of his C.V. were trending toward traits increasingly cinematic, danceable, and indubitably extraterrestrial.

In this vein, “Emerald Rush”, the first single from the recently announced Singularity, is an immense, immersive experience. The track unfolds like a lucid dream, providing ample space to acclimate to an environment woven around a teasing opening line and an unspooling of light keystrokes.

Peripheral textures soon evolve and disintegrate like a chromatic algal bloom, leaving behind a four on the floor bassline and an immovable sense of urgency. Carried forward by a satisfyingly melodic and techno-leaning riff, the collective mass creates a feedback loop of momentum that begs for a freedom from restraint.

At the four-and-a-half minute mark, the song bursts at its seams and ignites into a soaring freefall. Hopkins, a synesthetic savant, throws electric greens and blues into the mixture. The ensuing climax solidifies a transformation from scampering staccato to the most blissfully menacing dancefloor track in his discography. Full of flair in both its composition and delivery, the surprisingly lack of subtlety remains introspective in a way that only he can muster.

The only flaw in the journey passed is that it didn’t last longer; it begs for the context of a full album, which, per its press release, “is intended to be listened to in one sitting, as a complete body of work.” For a microcosm of a larger venture into one’s inner consciousness, “Emerald Rush” is a sparkling, well-produced gem of escape, or release, whichever you prefer.

Singularity is due out on May 4th on Domino Recording and is available for preorder here.

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