New Batch – Cosmic Winnetou
10.18.16 by Bobby Power

Since 2012, Guenter Schlienz has carved a happy little corner of blissed out ambient cassettes through his Cosmic Winnetou imprint. In that time, the Stuttgart, Germany-based label has issued tape after tape of heady, meandering music, including career highlights from Pulse Emitter, Kyle Landstra, Panabrite, Micromelancolié, and many more. Prolific without diluting itself, curious without being aimless, consistent without feeling stuck in a rut, Cosmic Winnetou remains a reliably tranquil retreat into some timelessly beautiful sounds. Recently, the label issued a three-tape batch featuring new tones from An Elm, Strom Noir, and a collaborative split tape by Uton and Ø+yn offset by Bird People and Creation VI .

First up, “Monster Collab” dishes out two sides of fortuitous collaboration. Uton, the solo project of venerable veteran of Finnish tinkerer Jani Jirvonen, teams up with Argentinian outsider Ø+yn (aka Pablo Picco) for four meandering tracks of equally disorienting glee. From subterranean drones to lo-fi, alien broadcasts, the two projects find beauty in grotesque places. Side B brings Bird People and Creation VI’s “Riverbank Raag,” a 25-minute raga that seems to almost literally levitate on command. As soon as the piece starts, you can’t help but feel a sense of weightlessness, embarking on an inward journey starting at your ears and going deep into the beyond.

Strom Noir’s name should sound familiar, having already issued more than 20 releases on the likes of Sacred Phrases, hibernate, Zoharum , and more. The project, helmed by Emil Maťko, perpetuates an endless bob of bucolic ambiance, culminating here with the white colour of the clouds. From the opening moments of lead track “All the Bright Places,” Maťko unfurls a series of lulled melodies that are perfectly tailored to suit scenes of waking from slumber or drifting off to sleep. “Ako Lynie Ticho,” “Chvenie,” and the extended, magnum opus-like “Concrete, Bones & Dreams” meditate on melancholic waves of piano-led bliss. Elsewhere, “Because You Left” relies on texture studies and gritty sheets of lush noise.

Last but certainly/obviously not least, An Elm’s “Fly Pan Elm” seems to veer into an entirely different direction as the previous two tapes. Reportedly “inspired by long-haul flights” and “dedicated to all aircrews,” the tape gives off the vibe of careening through air. While you’re peripherally aware of impossible speed and movement, your immediate state is one of pressurized motionlessness. The feeling is both paralyzed and highly dynamic. “Fly Pan Elm 1” jets through clouds of synth-laden pulses and processed dialogue lifted from some unknown film, only to be foiled by “Fly Pan Elm 2,” a layered and fog-like lattice of wafting synth chords. “Fly Pan Elm” 3 and “Fly Pan Elm 6” are exercises in transcendentally sublime and disembodied ambiance while parts 4 and 5 speak to eerie, arpeggiated workouts muted with a calm, dreamlike sense of dread.

All in all, Cosmic Winnteou’s eleventh batch highlights the labels penchant for pulling together diverse but inextricably linked artists from across the globe, all for the sake of adventurous sound.