The internet will break my heart

Un Solo Corpo

Let´s Not Talk About The War

Liturgy Of Litter

Volatile

Me Porn, You Porn

Boundless Love

The Train Seems To Know Where I Go

Over the last ten years, Chris Imler's perhaps not quite as rapid but equally unstoppable rise has coincided with the world's free fall. “The Internet will break my heart” marks the steepest artistic stage to date. We see a man whose entire oeuvre is a late work, at the dizzying heights of his game. “So, the Internet, that's a really hot topic”, I can already hear blasé hisses here and there in the boxes. But the truth is that the topic is annoyingly topical. Because only now is the world wide web unfolding its full disappointing potential. All pipe dreams of an emancipatory power of the digital multitude (remember Negri/Hardt, haha) are as completely extinguished as the Arab Spring was swallowed up by the pre-nuclear winter. While they are capped from above in authoritarian states, social media in the so-called free world are primarily used by lumpen capital to undermine humanistic standards and by the remnants of the left for self-destructive polarization. But the cute animal videos! They too have their dark side, which Imler brings up in the title song: “The animals in the real world are under pressure”.

But what is an aesthetically adequate way of dealing with this new digital version of the frustration of progress? Can it still be the old cold sounds of defiant adaptation to alienation? In the announcement for the exclusive session that Imler recorded for the innovative London station NTS, the presenter placed him alongside Kraftwerk, DAF and NEU! That's not entirely wrong. But it's only half the truth at best. That becomes especially clear during your live shows. To a certain extent, they are public rehearsals. Sketches that he makes on his laptop on his long and numerous travels are tried out on stage on the same evening, with ad hoc cobbled-together lyrics and drum work that he himself describes as “sloppy-emotional”. His performance is deliberately chaotic, impulsive and, for all its Kreuzberg street toughness, heartfelt. And although Imler - even with his occasional trumpet interludes - never has direct jazz references, one can just as easily think of Thelonious Monk's unruly boldness or Ornette Coleman's aggressive dynamics as of those aforementioned representatives of Teutonic robotics.

One thing is certain: the improvisational charm of his concerts cannot be captured one-to-one on record. But perhaps this album succeeds for the first time in achieving the same intensity of experience by other means. For example, with “Let's not talk about the war”, which is almost forbidden to dance to by Imler's standards. The micro-social tensions and unrest in the face of the divisive debates of recent years are fizzled out here into something completely rousing. “Agoraphobia”, on the other hand, strikes the listener with an opium-intoxicated dimness. The sonic complexity is almost reminiscent of monster productions such as Talk Talk's “Spirit of Eden”, but the atmosphere is even more dazzling, more dangerous, and it is crowned by the enchanting voice of international underground shooting star Naomi Klaus. The most fascinating soundscape, in my opinion, was created by Imler and his brilliant co-producer Benedikt Frey with “Liturgy of Litter”. Although predominantly electronic, you have the feeling of being in the same room as the sound sources, as if you were standing in front of an otherworldly gamelan orchestra, whose iridescent tinkling drives you into the most beautiful, serious serenity.
But these are just three possible entrances into the labyrinth of what is certainly one of the most interesting albums of the year.

Jens Friebe 

Chris Imler - Let´s No Talk About The War

Telepathic Sonora #28 w/ moli del tro (Lyl Radio - 12/02/2025)

Superspace Heaven

Me Porn, You Porn

Fun in the church

Related tracks