f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[The Wire] UK

This Delightfully poised acoustic album follows Berlin guitarist Frank Schelge's 2002 release Akern, on the stimulating electronica label Staubgold. Asid from some extremely discrete loops and treatments, however, little here connects Blumm with guitar-glitchologists like Fennesz or Joseph Suchy. Lichten is a collection of gorgeous instrumentals built around lush but simple six string patterns, embellished with beautifully recorded harmonium, piano, woodwind, and occasional drums.

A generous, human album, it is nevertheless a very sad one. Blumm manages perfectly to evoke strangely comforting moments of lonleliness and loss when tears prick thge backs of your eyes and your lower lip developes a Leslie Howard-style quiver. Yet, remarkably, the music never feels sentimental or manipulative (unlike some of the superficially similar work of Vini Reilly, for example). There's a slight acridity about some of the chords he plays that destabilises the material in interesting ways. While not remotely dissonant, these moments undercut the prevailing mood of charming melancholy to hint at something deeper, darker, more troubling. A parrallel might be the work of Hood, which shares a sense of innocence forced none to willingly into introspection. Also to be applauded is the sophistication of Blumm's arrangements, his melodic motifs rise organically from within their circling harmonic patterns rather than being imposed from above, allowing the listener to focus closely on the timbre of the instruments.

Blumm's skillful layering and placement of instruments in the soundfield is also extremely impressive. On "Ohne Orte", an almost subliminal digital fluttering recurs at intervals to bind its various sections together - amournful woodwind chorale, a quieltly dramatic for nylon and harmonium, and a stately piece for banjo. "Verlang" pits sprightly toy piano againstlangorous grand to fabulous effect. Throughout the album, his attention to textural detail and the low key bravura of his deployment of a small pool of instruments recorded in a variety of ambiences makes Lichten a sensuous and moving listening experience.

-Keith Moline

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[Foxy Digitalis] Us
It's the morning before you depart and you've just spent the last night with your lover. England in the 1600s is a crazy place, and you're leaving to find a new life in the New World. You lazily pack your things as the horns of "Tulpen" open the drapes to reveal a bustling city below. As she begs you not to go, you kiss your lover goodbye for the last time. You hustle down the ramshackle stairs and clutch your bag tightly as you make your way into the well-orchestrated chaos. You have to make your way to the harbor early; you haven't guaranteed yourself a spot on the ship leaving today and you want to get there before it's too late. "Ankern" is your guide, with its bright and lush atmospheres. Cut to a scene of the captain. He's old, and he's wealthy. He's done almost all there is to do in this world, so he's set his sights across the Atlantic. He sits on his terrace ("Terrase") and reflects on all he's done. He assures his wife he'll be back and he'll bring her all the gold that awaits him across the sea. She's been a good wife, but he knows that the promise of treasure will pacify her long enough to allow him to make a quiet exit. He knows it's a lie, but comforting her is all he knows how to do. He's a sailor and the sea calls him; he doesn't have a choice. He longs to be behind that wheel again. As he reflects on what are to be the last days of his life, he dons a smirk. His last adventure will be his greatest.
We cut to the captain giving the once-over to all the men who have gathered on the pier. He knows what he's looking for; he wants a crew who will listen to his every order. A "Blank" slate, if you will. You tense up as the captain approaches you. You hold your breath and address him with respect. He looks you up and down, turns and whispers something to his first mate, and looks you in the eye. You stare each other down for what seems like forever, until he finally lets his guard down. You've got him, you're in. The captain simply nods and you pick up your bag and board his ship. You find your quarters and unpack. You have very little room, and as "Ohne Orte" ("Placeless") indicates, you use what space you have as effectively as possible. You get into a rhythm as the rest of the crew begins to fill in all the nooks and crannies of this tiny space. These are all strangers to you, and you are a stranger to them, but there is an instant bond. You feel it and your heart beats faster, and "Zehn Tage" lifts your spirits. You believe there is nothing but greatness ahead.
"Erstse Bohne" marks the first sign of danger. It looks like there may be a storm coming in, but the captain assures you it will pass by. You just stare into the clouds. You swear you can see your whole life in those clouds. You see your mother making you breakfast on that cold morning in January after you'd become an uncle for the first time. You watch your first kiss. You watch as you swam in the ocean as a child. It fades, though as the storm passes. It was nothing after all. You're told most of the crew is sick and they must be quarantined or the expedition won't make it. You're still a few days from shore and you must keep your distance.
The title track is the first rays of sunlight on the desolate morning following a storm. You're only one of six still healthy, trapped on your vessel in the middle of the Atlantic. As the piano chords jar you awake, you run through a gauntlet of emotions. At first, you feel as though everything has gone wrong and you'll die here, but then as you peer out onto the calm seas, you feel assured. Today is the day you hit land. Today you become a legend. As you meander through your quarters getting ready for the day, you are relaxed. The journey shall not be "Prolong"-ed any longer. It ends now.
As you hit land for the first time in weeks, the only thing you can do is fall to your knees and thank God. The sand is as soft as an angel's wings. Tears stream from your face; trees have never looked so beautiful. You've made it. You are here. The curtain slowly closes as the audience watches you run off into the woods, screaming in joy, exploring your new home.
When I stumbled upon this album, I was intrigued. When I heard it, I was stunned. - Brad Rose

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[stylus magazine] USA

One of the interesting details about this album is the fact that the music has no discernible ethnic identity. This music could have come from anywhere in the world, in essence making it “placeless”. Each piece is instrumental, revolving around an acoustic guitar base with the accompaniment of drums, flute, piano, trumpet and harmonium. It is this latter instrument that levitates over the others and lends a sumptuous atmosphere to much of the album. In so doing, Blumm’s music takes on an abstract folk quality, while still maintaining a strong emotional effect that hits as hard, if not harder, than a conventional pop song. But unlike a conventional pop song, these instruments require patience and an open mind. Blumm has attempted to create a pared-down recording free of studio manipulation and has indeed achieved an uncluttered album.

In fact, Lichten is harmonious and beautiful, like all of Blumm’s recordings to date (Ankernand Mondkuchen). But, unlike others the overall mood of Lichten tends to be upbeat with digressions into the pensive, brooding and sentimental. Indeed, one of Blumm’s great strengths is his capacity to be emotionally evocative from even the simplest of compositions or sounds. “Tulips”, the opening track sets a dreamy tone for the record with its gentle guitar notes followed by “Anchor” which is a faster piece, has an upbeat mood and builds momentum for the album. Apparently “Anchor” is in reference to when Blumm, a German native, set sail and literally anchored himself and lived in Italy for a time. “Blank” begins in a somewhat psychedelic manner, with the introduction featuring saxophone and electronic manipulations; goes silent for a few seconds then returns with a pensive piano and guitar melody.

“Placeless” starts off fairly grey and brooding, then light and pensive which in turn gives way to form a gorgeous sunrise of a tune. “Ten Days” is a wholesome Denver-esque piece that starts off with trumpet and guitar, then concluding with drums that create a feeling of exuberance. Works like “First Bean”, “Second Bean” and “Lighten” are the painfully sentimental sucker punch tunes where Blumm impacts the hardest emotionally. The songs are delicate, walking the line between beauty and the possibility of failure expertly. For Blumm, these tracks express philosophical and emotional realizations, also working as a discourse on life. Highly recommended.
Reviewed by: I. Khider
Reviewed on: 2004-01-05

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[His Voice] CZ
V Berlíne¼ usadivs¼í se Frank Schültge Blumm (ktery´ se v prosinci pr¼edstavil také na praz¼ském festivalu Alternativa, http://fsblumm.free.fr) je do kytary zamilovany´ az¼ po us¼i. Ani po studiu hry neustal v jejím zkoumání, lechtá ji a hladí, mazlí se s ní a hlavne¼ jí trpe¼live¼ naslouchá. Nespe¼chá. Její tóny nechává znít dlouho a obkládá je zvuky z ruæzny´ch hrac¼ic¼ek a cinkátek, flétny, harmonia, saxofonu c¼i klarinetu a místy i drobnou elektronikou. S Lichten Blumm dále prohlubuje nakaz¼livou intimitu a preciznost v detailu patrné jiz¼ na jeho pr¼edchozích instrumentálních deskách a jes¼te¼ vy´razne¼ji oplocuje svou jedinec¼nou folkove¼ ambientní zahrádku.
Hynek Dedecius

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[absorb magazine] USA
The German term Lichten (‘Lighten’) not only refers to mood but suggests a desire to banish clutter in order to gain clarity. The title also acts as Blumm’s response to 2002’s Ankern (‘to anchor’), since he briefly resided in Italy last year before uprooting himself and moving back to Berlin. The songs on Lichten were mainly written on guitar while he resided in the Italian countryside, perhaps explaining why the disc has such a strong bucolic and pastoral feel. The rustic mood is bolstered by the emphasis upon evocative instrumentation like harmonium, clarinet, glockenspiel, and melodica, as well as more conventional instrumentation like piano, guitar, and bass. It’s puzzling that Blumm’s works fall under the ‘electronica’ rubric when they’re so strikingly natural sounding with predominantly acoustic instruments used for the songs. Electronics are present (for example, the backwards phasing at the beginning of ‘Blank’) but used sparingly. Most tracks favour slow tempos and melancholy, reflective moods that are both nostalgic and yearning, with the funereal ‘Blank’ an especially somber tone poem. Only two tracks (‘Ankern,’ ‘Zehn Tage’) have an uptempo feel, courtesy of Bernt Nellen’s aggressive drumming, while Wilm Thoben’s clarinet playing adds a woodsy quality to ‘Terrasse’ and ‘Ohne Orte.’ Blumm’s delicate and gentle guitar playing is prominent throughout and thus imbues the recording with a folk aura that evokes images of sprawling countryside vistas. Two tracks in particular stand out for different reasons. ‘Terrasse’ incorporates environmental sounds of outdoor voices and auto sounds that function as background elements throughout, while the complex arrangement and broad instrumentation of the impressive ‘Verlang’ strongly recall Blumm’s Morr Music release Mondkuchen . Ultimately, Lichten comes across as a refreshing release if a rather slight one as its retiring qualities prevent it from imposing itself too forcefully. It’s an affecting and melodic collection of instrumental folk pieces that convincingly if unspectacularly establishes a mood of pastoral placidity.
-robert schepper

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[autres direction] France
Far from the delicious bazaar of the discs from Sack & Blumm, Franz Schültge Blumm delivered albums (for Morr, then Staubgold) with the strange and perturbing beauty. Unclassable, its tests associate loops of guitars, noises of the daily newspaper, accordions and other sounds particular with economy, and offer by chance the labels of post-rock'n'roll of room, cinematographic music, concrete music, pop, avant-garde... As as many smoky terms scrambling the vision of a luminous work. And precisely, it is the light which is in the heart of this Lichten, recorded in Italy in estival period. F.S.Blumm opened large its windows with the sun burning and the ten compositions of Lichten had collected on the sharp one. Guitar, a little battery, some organ, moods, the compositions of this disc do not seem to hold with large thing. Their existence is undoubtedly accidental. They can evoke Tortoise or Sylvain Chauveau, the summer or the winter, calms it and effervescence. They are especially the witness of a rather rare syndrome: the free artistic expression.
- stéphane

f.s.blumm -  lichten (audio dregs)
[de:bug] Germany
very much instrument valley this album of telex Blumm. Almost chamber music. Folk. Spartanisch and with much place arranged is always everyone particulars of the pieces a small golden piece of optimism of full melodies and tingelnder attitude. F.S. Blumm becomes from times to times more someone the music something makes, at the next corner to stand somehow it could be played over one, by a small improbable orchestra from wood dolls and toy teddy, thereby nice or however not at all regressiv to be needs but full pride of a country tells that also the silence could be one Sunday in the afternoon under the suburb sun. Music with its instruments to talk somehow seems, so that they rauskommen from itself.
bleed *****

F.S. Blumm, "Lichten", Audio Dregs, 2003
[Loop] Cl
Frank Schültge Blumm is one half of the pair Sack Und Blumm and this time "Lichten" it's the first album released in the United States by the label Audio Dregs and third solo album of Blumm after "Mondkuchen" [Morr Music, 2002] and "Ankern" [Staubgold, 2002].

While staying in Italy in the specially warm boreal summer, Blumm composes this album whose translated title means to "iluminate", "clarity" and certainly this work is more luminous than his previous "Ankern", because it is enough to listen its 10 tracks to realize that are more near sadness. Perhaps it is the mood of the artist. Although for "Lichten" our protagonist is isolated of noise and music, and keep the sounds of his own stringed and wind instruments [Oboe, horn, accordion, melodica, guitar, vibráfono, little organ] and electronics.
The influence of folk and melody lines for Blumm are a constant in all of his works and in this one, the little organ and the accordion evoke the intimate character of his music.

"Blank" it's my favorite track by its minimalism; the graceful sound of the piano, the chords of the guitar, the silence between each piece, the repetitive effect of a piano note, its cinematic character, its beauty and the development of three different pieces in the same track. More info.
- Text Guillermo Escudero

F.S. Blumm - Ankern [Staubgold; 2002]
Pitchfork

I’ve always known Berliner F.S. Blumm as one half of the duo Sack & Blumm, partner to Harald “Sack” Ziegler, the go-to guy whenever Mouse on Mars wants a horn on their records. Sack & Blumm have released two full-length records together (one on Tomlab, one on the pre-Sonig Dommert/Jan St. Werner-run imprint Gefriem); F.S. Blumm made his full length solo debut in 2001 on Morr with Mondkuchen.

Though he moves in electronic circles, Blumm uses more than a mouse to create his music. In fact, synthetic sounds are rare on Ankhern, his second full-length, and impressively, he plays most of the instruments himself. In both his one-man-band approach and the overall sound of the record, Blumm has a lot in common with Mice Parade. Cleanly picked electric guitar outlines the chord structure, melodic lines come care of cello, vibraphone and horns (yup, that’s Sack on the brass). The compositions tend to focus on rhythm and repetition à la classical minimalism: It’s music that is crisp and beautiful on its surface, easy to like immediately, with a certain staying power, but ultimately a bit difficult to fall in love with.

I hate to fault a record so consistently lovely as Ankern; there’s really no dip in quality among the ten tracks here, and each sounds so nice it’s hard to imagine anyone not liking them, whatever their musical background. At times it reminds me of an evocative score to a first rate indie film, something like the music Hal Hartley composes for his pictures, a warm thoughtfulness made a bit pale by some unnamable ache. When the glow of Sack’s trumpet swells up at the conclusion of “Folge”, finally filling all the empty space left by Blumm’s spare plucked guitar and one-note vibraphone riff, it feels like the welcome return of an old friend. “Tal”, with its slower tempo, swaying cello, and increased spaciousness, is definitely cinematic, reminding me a bit of the Boxhead Ensemble in the way it conjures the sea. On “Sprung”, droney sitar and accordion move in counterpoint to swirling guitar leads and hypnotic guitar patterns. Each track sounds great on first listen, and continues to please on the tenth, yet despite Ankern’s positive attributes, something is missing.

The music is almost too clean and orderly for me to feel any deep emotional connection to. Blumm just makes it all sound too easy: sharp melodies, well-balanced sound, and tasteful instrumentation. This is not to say that I won’t hold on to Ankern and continue to enjoy it occasionally-- when the mood strikes-- just that Ankern is not the sort of record that crops up on best-of lists come year’s end.
-Mark Richardson, March 11th, 2003

F. S. Blumm - Ankern (Staubgold)
Dusted Magazine

More Songs About Buildings and Non-Foods
Certain albums have a unique ability to transcend their physical space. A rock album might convey a sentiment of excitement, a noise album crazed instability, but rarely can an album suggest something tangibly beyond itself or really pervade the physical space of the listener. Most film music is constructed to do this, but often with limited results. The music may suit the images being presented, but it is incapable of eliciting a response beyond the scope of the film. Albums of this unique tactile character usually catch me off guard, and F.S. Blumm’s Ankern is one such album.

I was expecting something sparse but staid; a typical melding of analog synthesizers and live instrumentation. Ankern begins with “Folge,” a slow acoustic guitar and bass meditation. After an initial two minutes of repetition, some syncopated drumming enters and the song quickly escalates into a samba-sounding pace. By the song’s close, “Folge” had already eclipsed my initial expectations, and was indeed a very pleasant surprise. My ears perked up and I knew that the following half-hour of music would be quite unique. Expecting Morr Music, I had been given a lush tropical-pop version of Music for Airports.
The successes of Ankern reside in its limitless variety of sounds and diverse instrumentation. Whereas most instrumental albums find a distinct pace and stick to it, Blumm constantly shifts from deep, orchestrated Berlin-meets-New Orleans arrangements to sparse Arctic sounds. These descriptions themselves evidence the density of the music – the need to describe it in terms of place, the shifting intangible emotions that the songs encompass. In practice, the music adapts to any variety of environments, and I leave it to the listener to experiment with this at will.

The cover art invites these spatial comparisons as each side of the CD juxtaposes two photographs: One aqua-tinted and Winter, the other orange-hazed and warm. The solo bass musing of “Tuch” and the melancholic chamber music of “Tal” are decidedly late-January music. Alternately, the Caribbean tinged “Abgebildet” and the xylophone driven “Kerzer Winter” are (despite the latter’s title) pretty blissful. The cover photos have a “family album” quality about them that also comes across in the music; personal but not private, Blumm is inviting interaction, not detached observation.

Meanwhile, in between the straightforward “songs,” there are some sections of sound exploration. Both “Sprung” and its counterpart “Fehlsprung” dip into more elaborate post-production techniques (perhaps courtesy of guitar manipulator Joseph Suchy, who mastered the album) with minimalist-inspired results. Both of the “Sprung” pieces begin with simple guitar melodies that gradually morph into echoed washes of overlapped sounds. The techniques utilized in their creation do not sound contrived or out of place; with Blumm’s detailed tweaking, the songs fit seamlessly into Ankern’s architecture. Still dreamlike and contemplative, these tracks are worthy tangents that delightfully broaden the scope of the album.

You will be hard-pressed find a more apt album to invade and adapt to your space during the winter months, and I imagine that Ankern will stand up equally well come springtime.

By Marc Gilman