The great German synthesist Günter Schlienz has a fairly new label called Cosmic Winnetou that’s doled out 10 little gems over the past year or so. In his third batch of tapes comes this semi-mysterious album that — if I am to believe the label’s description — is a recreation of a 1960’s ambient masterpiece, a copy of which was found “in a warehouse in a backyard of the South of Stuttgart” by a fellow named Ralv Milberg. The story goes on to relate that the descendants of The Baijkonour Ghost’s originators, who are alive and well, were invited by Milberg to recreate the recording conditions of the original reels in order to essentially re-record the album in full. Now, like a lot of drone tales told ‘round the campfire, this particular yarn carries with it a certain degree of speculation, especially since there are track titles like “my bloody meerjungfräulein” (which internet-translates to “my bloody sea boy young woman,” by the way). But no matter who or what exactly is behind this, when it was written or recorded, the music that made it to the tape playing in my deck is some of the better drone I’ve found in my 2013 tape travels thus far. Side A is all about texture, tones sweeping into the ongoing explosion, a drone done in vibrant widescreen that leads itself up to a thrilling climax, brilliantly paced with excellent dynamics. Side B is even more harrowing, “the piper at the gates of doom” being a constant crescendo of tremolo tones haunted by screeching ghosts in the background. Added to that are streaks of pure gnar, electric guitars slicing through the harmonic roar with intimidating distortion and feedback. Then last, “The Prince of Whales,” which sounds like… well, a bunch of whales, wailing. As a whole, The Baijkonour Ghost, whether new or old, or both I guess, is a timeless stunner.
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