CrammedLab / Les Edition de la Bascule
The recent sad loss of Veronique Vincent may have put a stop to the most recent flourishing of the Aksak Maboul journey, but this disc takes a peek way back into the late ’60s and early ’70s, compiling a series of mainman Marc Hollander‘s musical adventures that led in an incredibly roundabout way to the formation of the group in 1977.
Taking in a myriad of collaborators, a vast array of instruments and an extraordinary number of styles, this collection of fifteen (or seventeen on CD) attempts to explain the far-reaching thirst that has overwhelmed Marc since his teenage years.
Before Aksak Maboul was the sprawling Belgian collective Here And Now (not to be confused with the equally sprawling British band of the same name; coincidence, who knows?) which, although signed at one point to BYG, never actually released any studio material. The disc opens and closes with excerpts from live performance in which the ten members attempt to outdo one another in a churning soup of avant-rock with interlocking elements and scattered textures. Ideas that would later coalesce in the likes of Faust and Amon Düül are ground and grooved with some desperation. Horns honk as guitars wail and you feel the energy of the group all pushing to a shared goal. Considering they are fifty-five years old, the recordings are pretty good and reflect a prevailing mood of freedom combined with insistence. 1972 finds Here And Now teaming up with later Aksak mainstay Vincent Kenis and their “Abstract And Concrete” does pretty much what the title suggests; an experimental soundscape with bells and whistles that is minimalist and odd, then pastoral and enveloping, then finally drifting into horn-led freedom.This seems to be the end of Here And Now and the next couple of pieces are Marc solo with tones and sci-fi sounds drifting and disappearing through a short suite of soundtrack ideas. The rudimentary nature of the equipment does nothing to dim his enthusiasm and ability to invoke an atmosphere. The bubbling manic synths have a life of their own at points and the heat feels as though it is pushing things to the limit.
A rhythmic tonal exploration involving John van Rymenant on modular synths leads into a couple of pieces from Vincent and Marc in which the drifting sunrise synths of “Kosmischer Afternoon” merge with the swaggering Farfisa funk of “The Big Slide”. Marc’s “Gyrovagations” is a mysterious interaction between piano and xylophone, while “Imaginary Travels With Chris” is a percussive improv involving fellow traveller Chris Joris. It is a slow-building piece that sounds like a steel drum escapade in places. By now we are int to the mid ’70s and “Proto-Kefak” is a lovely pastoral synth drift with subtle guitar flourishes that are way down in the mix, as if shielding them from the light. Its exultant embracing feel makes way for a couple of pieces that were excluded from the first Aksak LP Onze Danses and extend the experimentation with lots of vibraphone and Farfisa that still sounds current.If released today, they would not be out of place at all, the catchiness of “Angeloid” harbouring a groove and differentiating it from “Balinoid”. The vinyl album closes out with “Java Ney”, a polyrhythmic stew involving Alex el Mahoub, Gianni Manente and Christian Pinchart, and the final piece of the Onze Danses puzzle, “The Missing Dance”, which is short but incredibly catchy. The CD rounds out with two more live excerpts from 1969 just to come full circle, giving a further taste of the exuberant and eclectic experimentation of Here And Now.
It is absolutely great that these pieces have found the light of day after all these years and is an essential addition to what is a relatively slender discography for such a long-standing group. It will be interesting to see where the future takes Aksak after the loss of Veronique; but for now, revel in the adventurous spirit that birthed it.-Mr Olivetti-
