MARCUS MAEDER - ANNEX (3"CD by Domizil)
Earlier today I was not at home, but in a friends house waiting for something. The weather was hot, and I lay down on his couch. In my bag was 'Annex' by Marcus Maeder, and I decided to play it. Around the house there was a lot of activity of people constructing a new house on one side (or perhaps putting an annex to it?) and on the other side motorized objects doing gardening work. Maeder's music wasn't very loud on, but it merged wonderful with the sounds coming from outside, even with all the windows closed. I fell asleep. Later on, now, I am at home again, listening again to 'Annex' in a more quiet surrounding of early evening (windows open). I am to understand that this work is an extension (for that is what an 'annex' is, in an architectural sense) of 'Subsegmental' (see Vital Weekly 702). I am not sure if Maeder draws from the same sounds as on 'Subsegmental', but he uses 'very short sound segments reproduced at such low speed as to stretch out and form vast soundscapes' - I couldn't have this any better myself. The four pieces (sixteen minutes in total) emerge on the near silence, especially 'Plateau' is very quiet, much alike the eleven pieces on 'Subsegmental'. Perhaps without many differences between this one and that one, but its simply beautiful stuff. Maybe its too early to play this music and I should wait until full darkness has set in, but its tranquility is simply great as it is. (FdW)

Annex reprend le terme utilisé en architecture pour qualifier l’extension d’un bâtiment. Il s’agit en effet ici d’un complément à Subsegmental, le dernier album en date de Marcus Maeder, chroniqué sur ces pages il y a quelques mois. L’annexe étant généralement d’une taille plus modeste que le bâtiment principal, il s’agit cette fois d’un EP d’un gros quart d’heure, reprenant le même minimalisme graphique de la pochette, le noir prenant la place du blanc de l’album.
Annex a été composé selon le même procédé que Subsegmental, à partir de brèves sonorités (segments) qui ont été étirés dans le temps. Le style est donc lui aussi le même, une somptueuse ambient minimale qui gagne en cohérence grâce à la concision du format, puisque le disque est simplement composé de 4 pistes.
Si Subsegmental paraissait parfois expérimental avec des sonorités un peu plus difficiles, Annex reste extrêmement doux, l’artiste jouant sur un subtil mélange de souffles ambiants, sifflements faisant penser à des sonorités captées dans l’espace, ou résonances métalliques, sortant à la rigueur un peu de la tonalité générale sur le final de Diesheit, proche d’une plaque de tôle qui serait secouée. Douceurs donc, mais aussi parfois une certaine inquiétude qui peut naitre à l’écoute de ces sonorités fantomatiques, fragiles, flirtant même avec le silence (Plateau).
Il s’agit là d’un très beau complément d’ambient minimaliste, une annexe en forme de nid douillet dans lequel on pourra se trouver un peu à l’étroit. En effet le format EP se révèle un peu court, mais ce pourra être l’occasion de revenir sur Subsegmental.
Fabrice Allard, Etherreal Webzine


MARCUS MAEDER - SUBSEGMENTAL (CD by Domizil)
Subsegemental is "used in psychology and perception within the context of linguisitics and phonetics" - its about how the smallest units make the meaning. In music 'the acoustic information is perceived in a segmentary manner, i.e. through very small or short parts of a sound signal'. There is a lot more to it, which are in the liner notes, but essentially Maeder composes using the concept of subsegmental with the help of Mathias S. Oechslin, a neuroscientist. He wrote the liner notes and described 'the gestalts appearing in his imagination while he listened to the individual pieces and expressed the associations that they conjured up in his mind'. Not easy to relate of this scientific information to the actual music, and perhaps its OK to do what I did: listen to the music, while occasionally glancing at the liner notes. Eleven pieces of highly minimal music: each piece seems to consist of only a few sounds, that arrive with long intervals of silence. This all sounds very much like serious composed computer music, rather than say musique concrete or microsound. Quiet music and while I must admit it didn't relate for me personally on any sort of psycho level, I actually quite enjoyed the music. Because of its silenceness and apparently nothing going on level, the real beauty is revealed in hearing the material when listened to it close. Avoid dark rooms I'd suggest, as things can be haunting at times. Refined and delicate. (Frans de Waard, Vital Weekly)


Marcus Maeder - Subsegmental
CD - Domizil
Although the term and concept of "subsegmental" are used primarily in psychology and in perception within the context of linguistics and phonetics, nothing stops Marcus Maeder from translating this meme into the field of music. Feeding the cognitive characteristics of tones, organizing acoustic information into subsets fragmenting the sequences and putting at risk our usual ability to grasp whole shapes (be they melodies or - in other areas - written texts and moving images) through this isomorphic method, the author is precise but subtle in shifting our attention towards micro areas of experience. Samples and segments eventually give rise to a minimalist and intricate sound design, coherent yet quite diverse at the same time. No stranger to the reductionist views that have long considered how "less is more" and imagining a whole as the sum of its parts, Marcus Maeder hieratically insists on the punctiform and surreal power of single isolated aural emergencies, between the intervals of silence and the almost ancestral stimulation of the listener.
(Aurelio Cianciotta, neural.it, March 2010)


MARCUS MAEDER - THIS SHIP IN TROUBLE
MARTIN NEUKOM - STUDIE 18
BERND SCHURER - PARALLAX

There is a common link to be noted in these three new releases on Domizil and that is their historical roots. It seems to me that all three artists derive their music and concepts from the past - the post World War II electronic avant-garde. Perhaps this is least present in the mini CD by Marcus Maeder. His music has the smallest ties to the historical avant-garde and lies more in the field of microsound. Six tracks which hoover more or less on the fringes of hearing, until at one point things burst out. Most likely these are processed field recordings (which is another difference with the old world) which aren't easy to trace back into something we could have heard in the real world, but composition wise this still has faint traces of the serious avant-garde. Blocks of sounds gliding and passing in a gentle way, with that odd burst at 'Andrea Virla'. Maybe there is some aquatic theme to is, but it's a bit hard to see. However this is short (twenty minute) release, but its very gentle and nice. (...)

Frans de Waard, Vital Weekly, 2009


this land is your land
winter 2002/2003 review
marcus maeder: quiconque

Techniques are important only so far as they are invisible. Intention is often disguised as meaning. Wicked licks and brainy myopic chalkboard circuits make wonderful new world. Sometimes even some music comes along and speaks.

But then there are glowing signs of life at the bottom of the sea: or were they found in the crust of a comet? Sometimes we dont know as much as we say we do. Music works like this: it connects us with things that we sort of vaguely know are there, but have no way of proving otherwise.

Which is why most religions have music as a number one priority. Which is also why films can get under our skin, and we feel so alone sometimes at night when a happy song is playing inappropriately.

When I listen to this disc, I try not to pay any attention to how it was made: it defeats the purpose. Also, I dislike the idea that it may have precedent (like there is anything without).

So, the best way to hear it is unexpectedly. This is difficult because in order to hear it, you need to take it out of its package and put it into your disc player. So then, I will just imagine I heard this at the beach when I swam too deep last summer, lost track of which way was up, and panicked for a second.

A. Bergman/Luckykitchen