Ambient Curation #4 ~ Ambient jazz, Haunted Americana & Kankyō Ongaku
On the fourth instalment of this newsletter our editor Ruben van Dijk talks to Rindert Lammers about his recently released debut album. On top of that, some great new music recommendations!
Q&A: Rindert Lammers
One thing to know about Dutch composer Rindert Lammers is that he absolutely loves Genesis. Everything comes back to Genesis, and, what's in a name, Genesis could explain everything. Rindert wrote a beautiful little reflection for Talkhouse on how he came into their music as a twelve-year old. He writes that he was "just a weird kid. Every single one of my school reports mentioned the same thing: 'Rindert is a dreamer. He stares out the window with his mouth open and doesn’t pay attention to what’s being said.'" If Genesis albums are often extremely wide-ranging and convoluted, Rindert has dreamt up small things on his Western Vinyl debut, Thank You Kirin Kiki. Small stories, made to feel big, as his quiet ambient jazz frequently veers into territory that's at least prog adjacent. Here's a conversation I had, over email, with Rindert.
Hi Rindert! I really love that patient, understated ambient jazz sound you have, but I was also pleasantly surprised by how vibrant parts of Thank You Kirin Kiki are—especially 'Opening Credits' and 'Closing Credits'. How did those tracks come about? And is that where we hear the Genesis influence?
"My brother found this moving comment under one of the many Hiroshi Yoshimura videos on YouTube. Someone said they had lived for two years in a van, sleeping in parks and on the streets of Tokyo, and how grateful they were for the beauty of Yoshimura’s music during that time. We recorded and lightly edited that YouTube comment, and it became a sort of opening scene for an imaginary film. From that image, I wanted to build a soundtrack—and of course, opening and closing credits are part of that."
"So those tracks took on a more orchestral, cinematic approach, even though almost everything was played on keyboards. In that sense, Genesis is never far off—much of their romantic, orchestral sound comes from keyboardist Tony Banks, who listened to a lot of classical music himself."
You’ve mentioned Hirokazu Kore-ada's Shoplifters as a major inspiration for this album. Were there other films—or specific scenes—that had an influence?
"Around the time Shoplifters came out, I was going to the arthouse cinema several times a week. A few films really stuck with me. One of the first that comes to mind is Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car. It’s a fantastic and moving film, but the soundtrack by Eiko Ishibashi left an even bigger impression on me. Her music is beautifully woven into the film—never too present, but also not just background. Even without the visuals, the soundtrack is incredibly atmospheric and vivid. It showed me how storytelling through instrumental music can really work."
"Long Day’s Journey into Night by Bi Gan is another one that left a mark. It was originally marketed in China as a kind of Valentine’s film, but it flopped—people were angry because it was really long and nobody could follow the plot. I could relate to that, but the second half of the film is one continuous dreamlike shot, and that part felt almost spiritual to me. There’s one scene in particular—where the main character descends to a village by cable car—that’s one of my all-time favorites. I’m not sure exactly how that relates to my album, haha, but in some sections—like the last few minutes of 'Opening Credits' or
'Sleep Well, Hiroshi Yoshimura'—I did try to create a dreamy, magical-realist feeling."
What was the biggest step you took as a composer while making this album?
"The biggest step was simply finishing something. For the first time in a long while, it felt like a coherent collection of songs that fit together in mood and story. Thinking of the album as a kind of soundtrack, with a setting and a central character, really helped me finish it. In that sense, I discovered what works for me creatively."
You recently started playing with a band. How did that come together, and how has it changed your music?
"Last year I did a talent development program through De Basis, an organization in Nijmegen. During one of the sessions, I mentioned that one of the most intimidating things for me would be putting a band together and performing live. Not so much because I’m nervous on stage, but because organizing something around an album like that felt really daunting. A personal lesson for me has been that the scariest things are often the most rewarding. Thanks to the network at De Basis, I had a band together in no time. Playing with a band brought back a sense of fun for me—I had been so focused on composing and mixing. Now I’m also giving attention to the act of playing again. Sound-wise, the songs have changed quite a bit too: they’ve become more jazzy and less cinematic. And like you mentioned earlier, they’ve taken on a bit more energy and exuberance."
What’s your ultimate dream as a composer or producer? What kind of album would you make if time and money weren’t an issue?
"Great question. I’d love to do something like Promises by Floating Points—working with a full orchestra and a few soloists. I’m also fascinated by the concept Mark Hollis (from Talk Talk) described as “arranged spontaneity.” For Laughing Stock, he and his producer went into a pitch-dark studio for a year and invited groups of musicians (even full choirs) to come in and improvise over very minimal arrangements, with hardly any direction. I’d love to record as much as possible that way—and then arrange everything afterward: move things around, combine different takes or layers. That process sounds incredibly inspiring to me."
Annie A - The Wind That Had Not Touched Land
A COLOURFUL STORM
SPOKEN WORD / ELECTRO-ACOUSTIC / FIELD RECORDINGS
"It takes a whole day to warp up the loom / before you start weaving / you are shaping the pattern before you begin," recites Christina Petrie on the title track of The Wind That Had Not Touched Land. From the textile art of Bauhaus alumna Anni Albers, Annie A extrapolates a handful of wide-ranging musings on dreams and finitude. Though it isn't under her name, French whisperer Felicia Atkinson takes the lead on this project, and is joined at times by Petrie, Maxine Funke, and Jack Rollo and Elaine Tierney of Time Is Away. It's an exercise in threading the needle, maintaining a steady sense of vulnerability throughout, and playing to the strengths of Atkinson and Funke especially: music as a soft breeze, carrying illegible vocalizations, the rustle of clothes, and a gossamer murmur.
William Tyler - Time Indefinite
PSYCHIC HOTLINE
HAUNTED / AMERICANA / DISINTEGRATION
The William Tyler in the opening minutes of Time Indefinite is almost unrecognizable, compared to his last solo studio album Goes West (2019), or even his more recent collaboration with Marisa Anderson, on which cosmic americana was still very much the name of the game. Instead, Autechre, GAS, and the crackly archives of ethnomusicological label Death Is Not The End seem to have been some of the main reference points, with Tyler's brief musical fling with Four Tet's Kieran Hebden providing valuable experience. On Time Indefinite, as the title suggests, the plains that have so often inspired him, are of a metaphysical nature. Like some of those Death Is Not The End compilations, this album is a portrait of America that cuts through all of its tempestuous past.
Daniel Bachman - As Time Draws Near
SELF-RELEASED
SHORT STORY / FIELD RECORDINGS / CLIMATE CHANGE
Similar to William Tyler, Daniel Bachman, based in Madison, Virginia, has largely abandoned melody and more conventional, songlike ways of storytelling in recent years. His music has collapsed in on itself [complimentarily], as the disastrous effects of climate change have become more and more visible in Bachman's immediate environs. As Time Draws Near is a soundtrack and a piece of speculative climate fiction (the album, when purchased, comes with a pdf), but even on its own, the music is impressive and frequently unsettling. Bachman mostly left his guitar aside for this one, and proves, once again, that he's mastered the narrative power field recordings can possess. Following "a rural community in the Shenandoah Blue Ridge of Virginia after a powerful hurricane devastates the area", the project both reflects on the state's calamitous past and uncertain future.
Elijah Jamal Asani - ,,, as long as i long to memorise your sky ,,,
AKP RECORDINGS
SPIRITUAL / KANKYO ONGAKU / GRAND CANYON
Spending sixty days in the Grand Canyon as an artist in residence, 'anti-disciplinary Nigerian-American artist' Elijah Jamal Asani learned that "the sky never falls asleep no matter how sweet a lullaby I play." His album ,,, as long as i long to memorise your sky ,,, largely came together on the forty-fourth morning of his Arizona adventure, and this forty-minute soundscape, composed mostly of field recordings and piano improvisation, feels somewhat like a real-time epiphany; "an echo of the softness etched upon those Muav stones", writes Jamal Asani. It does indeed feel soothing, fully in touch with its surroundings; it simultaneously feels loose and meticulously designed, as some of the best kankyō ongaku music does.