The Wire, November 2006        
 

Kai Fagaschinski and Christof Kurzmann are Kommando Raumschiff Zitrone (Command Spaceship Lemon).  The duo is named after the now defunct Raumschiff Zitrone performance space in Berlin, which Fagaschinski programmed, latterly with Kurzmann’s help, between 2000-06.  As players, Kurzmann (lloopp, devices and, on one track, clarinet) and Fagaschinski (clarinet) have a strong track record in improvised and experimental musics, and on this recording the weight of their combined experience is immediately apparent.  Whereas the first half of “Aisha” is quiet, dry and sparse, in the second half Fagaschinski’s clarinet is loud and harsh, occasionally filigreed with Kurzmann’s electronic doodles.  All of the tracks – perhaps bar “Chow” – are named after women, and each has a distinctive and complex set of characteristics.  “Irina” is elusive and mysterious.  “Marisol” comprises mostly wisps of sound, without obvious continuity, though eventually deep foghorn notes and a certain solemnity ensue.  “Chow” is forthcoming, diverse, and perhaps the most immediately rewarding track.  It covers a lot of ground, and even involves a snippet of Chinese pop song, before establishing a strong rhythmic basis for Fagaschinski to play with.

Frankly, in lesser hands this material could easily sound naïve or gauche, but Kurzmann and Fagaschinski carry it off with aplomb. But it’s the first track, “Roberta”, a reprise of which brings the session to a close, which best illustrates their command of the material.  Allowing Roberta Flack’s splendid “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” to run as source material for a couple of minutes is dangerous, in that it could all too easily dominate the proceedings and hamper musical development.  That’s not what happens.  Fagaschinski threads lyrical clarinet lines through and alongside the vocal before veering off into much more abstract territory, while Kurzmann’s fluttery church-organ electronics initially seem to mimic, in a dreamy manner, the rise and fall of the chords.  As the song fades away, leaving Kommando Raumschiff Zitrone to their own devices for almost another ten minutes, its contours and emotional characteristics slowly begin to morph.  Offering more than just an affectionate reading, Kurzmann and Fagaschinski add value to the song rather than vampirically drawing energy from it.

Brian Marley

   
           
         
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