Franz Kirmann’s Meridians
this is an invitation to tenderness, to gentleness and hearted loops that will warm you up with very poetic and touching vibes. today, the pond’s guitar adoration makes a short break to quench a thirst for some enjoyable reverie. at the controls, Franz Kirmann — the interrupted part of Piano Interrupted — invites us to a inspiring journey, a way to pervade mirroring thoughts and vibrant emotions.
regardless of Kirmann’s insatiable appetite for beats and dance music – which was more perceptible on Random Access Memories, a first promising album released in 2011 full of aerial textures and deconstructions – Meridians is a pure sparkling electronica enterprise.
the substantial melancholy conveyed by the magnificent opening Dancing On The Edge of The Void accentuates little by little as Kirmann spins his web during sixty minutes of fulfilment. though Baudelaire’s spleen is also impossible to miss in He Watched as She Disappeared Into The Crowd or With Such Sweet Despair, the excellent They Drove All Night Only to Find Themselves Back Where They Started and Glider show a tasty penchant for synthesizing tunes reminiscent of the 80’s and give the album coloured and vivid notes.
Meridians hesitates between enlightenment and despondency, just as life does. the title itself evokes the so-called meridian system, which is deeply rooted in the traditional chinese belief — a path through which the energy of life flows. and the album gives manifest signs of life even though Kirmann’s pensiveness winds along a wistful course.
it matters little that skies are grey or colourful. this second breathing album released on Denovali Records is a tranquil, meditative soundtrack, a dive into half-shaded warm waters. how delightful it is to lose oneself in a slow-motion bubble, where layers of patiently assembled machine-like compositions were shaped. Meridians wavers between nostalgia, unforgotten souvenirs and choked joyful moments. it demonstrates simply and poetically how life may be.
inspired by filmmakers like Wong Kar-Wai or David Lynch, as the London-based French musician explained to Ran$om Note, Franz Kirmann’s superb new shot is supported by captivating song titles. Dancing On The Edge of The Void or That Day We Threw the Keys out the Window suggest, both in their title and melody, an attempt to escape the obscurity, and walk along a luminous promenade. no matter how the piano notes and haunted delicate voices of the closing You Fall In Love With Somebody Else have a nostalgic flavour, there is no limit to what we can hope for. melancholia can be a beautiful feeling, provided that one knows how to capture and render it in an heart-warming manner. and Franz Kirmann knows how.