Long faces were being pulled when, during this record’s long preparation period, Cristian Vogel announced that he wasn’t ever going to play in a club again. And that, even though his personal struggle with the dancers’ lack of interest and the resulting limitations of the format have accompanied his works for 20 years now. Just as long as his quarrel with ignorance towards rhythm has been going on, or with academia’s elitism, in whose parallel world he is famous for interpreting the works of Gilles Jobin, a choreographer from Switzerland. Not to mention his proponent-role for the music programming language Kynia. Therefore, a few years ago, frustrated by the overall devaluation of studio productions, he eventually settled on experimenting with micro-editions. Thankfully, after having moved to Berlin, he found a new label-home at Shitkatapult – a place for any random soul mate to quench their thirst. It’s been two years since »The Inertials« was released there, and Cristian Vogel’s matured, classical sound was welcomed most warmly. Now, »Polyphonic Beings« is picking up the threads exactly where they were left, colored in buzzing Berlin-dub. In the shadows of aerial railway bars, Hoover-sounds are flickering by like graffiti, just before we’re beckoned into darkness. »How Many Grapes Went Into That Wine« is a spectral workout, an epic mirror of the previous record’s »Spectral Transgression«, on which extraterrestrial color-objects bend to such an extent that they reveal themselves as elflock-stricken angels. Opposing rhythms are drilling themselves into watery echo chambers, suddenly sinking into deep holes. Together, the chirping and the extreme stretching are fighting their ways through electro sounds and four-four time, until they abruptly land on a clearing in an opera forest. Exclusively vinyl, percussion is getting lost in a mirror maze, quietly greeting a wobbly surface from the realm of the dead. In the end, a distorted piano is stretching in the rain and the howling of the wind until it ducks away, beckoning. Finally, when we’ve long lost orientation and will, a Japanese is pulling us back into the light. Almost every sound is accompanied by something phantasmal, that’s how filtered these »many-voiced creatures« are. The continuous pulse doesn’t take us to the dancefloor, but rather through a headspace-adventure so morphing, so organically funky, so alien technoid that only one could have created it.
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