Review Summary: Familiarly uncomfortable
The first time I heard
Ludwig I was knee deep in the feverish side effects of my second Covid vaccine. This may not seem relevant, and frankly it isn't, but just bear with me. Hearing Stimming's latest record in my half-lucid state at highly uncomfortable body temperatures rendered me incapable of doing anything besides staring at the lovely cover art. "Pigeon", I thought to myself. "Glitchy pigeon. Glitgeon". Still wondering how this is relevant? Okay, here we go:
Much like a glitgeon,
Ludwig transforms the relatively ordinary vehicle of electronic music into something unique, morphing accumulations of subtle quips into a wonderful beast with, eh, beautifully terrifying eyes.
I didn’t say it’d be groundbreaking. Nonetheless, this ridiculous metaphor has stuck with me over subsequent listens. There is something familiarly uncomfortable about the German producer’s latest record that is as mesmerising as it is perplexing, both in a highly positive sense.
Ludwig strips Stimming’s sound to the bare minimum while somehow expanding upwards at the very same time. Where 2016’s excellent
Alpe Lusia was persistently underscored by quiet, pulsating beats, there are very few of such comfortable, recognisable demarcations to be found here. The front half relies on sporadic and highly organic bubbles of sound to eclipse one another and craft eerie atmospheres, whereas
Ludwig’s second portion devotes its time to packaging such odd sonic accumulations in deceptively complex, highly repetitive motions. As such, each section of the record as well as the project as a whole presents a constant duality of meticulously calculated melodies and naturally growing and offshooting patterns contrasting, distinguishing, and ultimately complementing one another at all times.
Highlight ‘Pidgeons’ solidifies
Ludwig’s odd atmosphere in the record’s first stretch. Adding metallic shivers to a quietly propulsive motif, featured artist Balbina’s gentle, chopped up vocals paint abstract, nearly indistinguishable pictures. As the song’s pulse fades in and out of focus, the many hushed elements find a chance to showcase their integral nature to completing the overall ominous ambience. Yet, each tone glitches past briefly enough to go unnoticed and submerge itself into the full framework - something which ‘The Hyve’s first seconds counter highly effectively. Introducing itself with the mildly uncomfortable buzzing of bees, the song’s jazzy textures soon take over, engulfing its unpleasant, summery connotations in smooth waves of sound. Yet, Stimming’s constant eye for detail adds minor tweaks to such waves in the off-kilter drums that underscore the track, as if to remind the listener that potential disquiet is mere moments away at all times.
The album’s most immediate song, ‘Judith Maria’, splits the two halves with an inviting clicking that forms a frail backbone. Seemingly on the persistent verge of breaking, the track drifts through glitches of all shapes and sizes, while remaining entirely focused on reaching an unknown, deeply intriguing destination. Once it’s in the proximity of its final stop, though,
Ludwig descends further into peaceful madness. Each song remains exceptionally coherent while seemingly taking every left turn it finds, ultimately running in blissfully remarkable circles. ‘Arc de Triomphe’s two sections find similar patterns basking in ambient realms, before erupting into something much darker; something much more forceful. It’s all familiar, it’s all entirely unexpected. There is no clear end to
Ludwig: the record can be looped again and again, drifting through the shapeshifting clouds like a glitgeon while taking every opportunity to stick a graceful landing. I’m going to take my temperature again.
