either it’s like watching the sun’s distant reflections over the sea, or like feeling the warming of a big rocket’s engine, the beginning of Absturz (= ‘crash’, ‘fall’), second album by German stoner kings Mother Engine offers a moment of pure recognition: I’m ready, take me wherever you like. The first guitar solo starts (Chris Trautenbach), the fuzz is under control, the ride begins. Then the sound thickens, as minutes are ticking, and the fuzz, and the cymbals’ fizz (Cornelius Grünert), and the powerful rumble (Christian Dressel) fully take the stage.
The stoner gear is there, all along the six tracks, all the musical cells, the short three-four-notes phrases ready to be repeated the right amount of times, showing their droning potential, wrapped in the right amount of wah: nothing is particularly new, but everything is crafted with special attention, so that the ride is extremely satisfying (take, for instance, the enthralling build-ups).
And there is some kind of kindness at the bottom of Mother Engine’s vast and beautiful sound, and this could be new. The guitar might be wild, sometimes, and the drums and bass might be sitting upon a tank of unlimited fuel, but the trip is soft and sweet, full of wonders and friendly presences (included a couple of nice ‘transmissions’, in German), full of light and musical joy. Mother Engine are definitely part of a big family, but for me they easily stand in the front row, and Absturz is glorious hour spent in some distant place, a place where you’re not ashamed of smiling and lightly rocking your head.
Yours heavily, mp