On The Evening Hopefuls, German composer Stefan Paul Goetsch reworks pieces of orchestral rehearsals for a score that he had written into something otherworldly and magnificent. Culled from three hours of music he rearranged and reworked in his hotel room, The Evening Hopefuls drifts on another plane of consciousness, one halfway between sleeping and waking. To think of the source material as something other than the final product here is strange – this tape feels so complete, so considered, the music becomes its own entity and takes on its own persona. I say that of course without hearing the original material, but it’s hard for me to discuss within that context. Still, if you were to try to pin it down, you’d have some wildly unearthly material to describe – not only are we talking about a partial dream state where snippets of potentially meaningful communication appear and are lost in the ether, we may also be recipients of messages from other civilizations elsewhere in the universe. It all depends on your perspective. Regardless, we immerse ourselves in Goetsch’s master craftsmanship, buoyed by our own context, and drift on our imaginations toward meaning. That’s what music listening is all about anyway, right? Imposing a worldview upon a feeling. Hainbach’s output defies easy interpretation, and it’s all up to you. Listen deeply. Laugh knowingly and worriedly at the track title “The White House, Hell’s Valley,” and be renewed in the end by the hovering brilliance of “The Evening Hopefuls.” Be wary, be wise, but breathe deeply and be overcome by Hainbach.
Hainbach
Spring Break Tapes
-- Ryan Masteller
Posts
