Michael Brückner composes electronic music since 1992, often ambient, time after time experimental, but as well frequently inspired by Berlin School.
During the last 20 years the artist released 99 albums all by himself.
- Memo For Nemo Part 1 - [7:25]
- Memo For Nemo Part 2 - [6:21]
- Cycle Of Fire - [12:29]
- Paradox Planet - [11:30]
- Monokosmos - [11:27]
- Waves Are Chasing The Wind - [13:13]
- 100 Million Miles Under The Stars - [15:32]
The present album is No 100 and the first album to be released by a label. It was inspired by Berlin School influences and offers sequenced moods, rythm and floating melodies.
2012. Press Information
Hum … What a pleasant discovery! It’s through a splendidly charming sound and musical decoration that Michael Brückner's first work arrives to our ears by the means of a major EM label. Michael Brückner is a veteran in the circles of EM with a more or less dark ambient style. Active since 1992, he composed and realized 99 albums which are available on various download platforms. For his 100th album, the Syngate label took the bet to make known this talent hidden in the webs of Internet. “100 Million Miles Under the Stars” is a superb album which reveals all of the splendours of an EM which renews with its first role; weave some rhythms and cosmic harmonies in an electronic galactic universe. It’s a great collection of 7 titles where the floating and atmospheric intros are used as pretext to undulatory rhythms moulded in the harmonious oblivion of the analog synths. Rhythms which emerge out of cosmic abysses created in envelopes of stellar to nes to be made dream the driest of the imaginations. It’s a very favorite. My very favorite for 2012 that I hurry to share with you.
Pulsations forged into hollow wood are raising hoops with eroded outlines, like some lost steps would raise mislaid partridges, and splendidly the musical fauna of “100 Million Miles Under the Stars” makes itself known in our ears with a veil of iridescent mist which floats in the echoes of the hollow pulsations. A strange perfume of an industrial world floats with quirky tones which stroll around mists weaved in the laments of fanciful violins, whereas that "Memo for Nemo Part I" shells its first minutes in an intense atmospheric broth. An uncertain rhythm is settling down a little after the 4th minute. Fed by more amplified pulsations, of which each pulse is bruising the movement which drops shrill lunar lamentations, and a mixture of percussions/cymbals flickering of nervousness, this rhythm debauches a violent line of frenzied pulsations which makes the bridge between both parts. This splendid spasmodic rodeo crashes into an atmospheric cliff and its brightnesses fall into "Memo for Nemo Part II" which runs away with a delicious stroboscopic movement of which the slow undulations are structuring a cosmic down-tempo where the rhythm, always uncertain, topples over between an exhilarating and occasional velocity, constantly decorated with an attractive cosmicolectronic sound fauna. "Cycle of Fire" is a slow cosmic tribal procession. If the intro offers ringings of sidereal bells which ring among sinuous and long soloing breezes of a synth a bit tinny, the rhythm is wiggling with the arrival of clanic percussions of which the frantic tams-tams sculpture an enchanting oniric dance. The irregularity of the rhythms is in the heart of the charms of “100 Million Miles Under the Stars”, creating a musical happening which tergiversates in a cosmos starry with tones that are similar to the galactic poetries of Tomita and Vangelis. And the tribal rhythm of "Cycle of Fire" is as much parcelled out between its frenzied tams-tams and its soft cosmic ambiences that a synth is wrapping of a soft astral layer, taking good care of the scattered piano notes which float in a Milky Way in thousand stellar tones.
Like some oblong pulsations lost in an ascending heart rhythm, the rhythm of "Paradox Planet" emerges from beyond hollow winds to oscillate of a hypnotic velocity on the gyrating valleys of a minimalist movement which is melting into a linear spiral before dying out in the breezes of the void of a black cosmic finale. These rhythms livened up by synth waves which run and roll in loops are one of the wonders of “100 Million Miles Under the Stars”, the other one being these deep atmospheric moods which bubble and shape those abstract rhythms drawn on timeless loops. "Monokosmos" borrows the same rhythmic and atmospheric phases as "Paradox Planet" except that the rhythmic loops are curter and roll with a more increased pace. The iridescent flutes of "Waves are Chasing the Wind" sing of their sharpness breaths on a more tribal rhythm. The approach, which is similar to an audacious dance of the desert winds with chaotic percussions/pulsations, embraces a fiery rhythm from which the v ertical snails form a cadence a bit dislocated which goes contrary to the mesmerizing singings of the wind flutes. The way that the title-track takes place reflects all the sound wealth of “100 Million Miles Under the Stars” with cosmic atmospheres rich in tones which sparkle and sing from every corners of the universe. Magnificently drifting and musically dreaming, the intro floats in a cosmic broth which hovers all over the 7 titles of this Michael Brückner's 100th opus. The sidereal winds are rich and warm. They groan in a swarm of musical stars which shine with all the inconceivable wealth of the depths of a cosmos within the reach of any imagination, while the rhythm wakes up with the silvered jingles of hoops which melt themselves within their rhythmic rings. The rhythm is weaved in a strong undulatory current, pounding with power under the charms of a flute which has no secrets anymore for our ears and of a synth which disperses its cosmic harmonies on a galactic rodeo to tho usand spasmodic kicks, concluding the wonderful paradox of a cosmic poetry on its conceptual reality.
Yes “100 Million Miles Under the Stars” is a big work of EM like those made in the forgetting of the 70’s by artists such as Synergy, Jarre or Vangelis. An opus that I strongly recommend. Hat to you Michael Brückner!
2012. Sylvain Lupari / gutsofdarkness.com & synth&sequences.com