Me, Myself and I

Gordon’s Tsunami Week wurde 2001 von Sebastian Ziegler (Piano, Gitarre, Samples) und Tobias Engler (Gitarre) als instrumentales Projekt gegründet. Gordon’s Tsunami Week versuchen seelenvolle Melodien mit schieren Walls of Sound zu vereinen. Sie versuchen Atmosphäre einzufangen und diese experimentell umzusetzen. Der träumerische Charakter der Songs wird durch verschiedene Instrumente (unter anderem: Violine, Lapsteel Gitarre und sphärische Samples) realisiert.

Visions Unexplored 02-2008:

Sechs Münchener und die Freiheit ihrer Instrumente. Oder: bajuwarischer Postrock.
Was kommt nach Postrock? Noch zumindest: Postrock! Und das mit steigender Qualität. Bedanken können wir uns bei den Genre-Vorreitern und -Größen wie Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Mono oder Sigur Rós. Denn ihre Pionierarbeit trägt reife Früchte. Auch hierzulande treten nach und nach Bands mit ihren Klangfeldern ans Tageslicht. Ein besonders gutes Beispiel: Gordon’s Tsunami Week. Auch die sechs Münchener haben das Rad nicht neu erfunden, aber warum auch, wenn’s so rund läuft. Auf ihrer Demo-EP "A Place For Nowhere" vereinen sie die Tragweite von Explosions In The Sky, die Melodieseligkeit Mogwais und die Wucht von Isis. Doch bis man die im Bandnamen verankerte Gewaltigkeit zu spüren bekommt, muss man geduldig sein. Die EP beginnt fast andächtig; als würde man mit Morgentau beträufelten Pflanzen beim Wachsen zusehen. Die dennoch nicht von der Hand zu weisende Bedrohlichkeit mutiert erst im dritten Song überraschend zu einer erbarmungslosen Wasserwelle. Doch Gordon's Tsunami Week geben das Ruder nicht aus der Hand, sondern beherrschen das Spiel zwischen schwerelosen Melodien und ausufernden Gitarrenwänden gekonnt. Beeindruckende 23 Minuten, denen eine Flut von Begeisterung folgen müsste. (Möde)

The Silent Ballet:

“Experimental” is certainly an apt label for Gordon’s Tsunami Week, a band hearkening from Munchen, Germany that wears its influences solely on its long, thick sleeves. Sebastian Ziegler and Tobias Engler, the masterminds behind the band, muddle together a blend of guitar, piano, and general randomness that races to its conclusion in just over 20 minutes without leaving a lot to remember on the way out the door.

To be fair, GTW’s arrangements certainly weren’t put together overnight, as the delicate and frequent outbursts of guitar and atmosphere are smooth and expand beyond the range of the pedestrian musician. Yet it’s what is not on the album, the glue that holds the elements together, or a transition between these elements, so to speak, that degenerates the material into an atmospheric buffet that needs some fine tuning, or at least some fresh pieces of meat. Without this cohesion, A Place for Nowhere misses the mark of a grand, unifying experience and instead merely exists as a demonstration of better things to come.

The opening track of the record hints at possible greatness; the selection features a methodically paced opening that starts to hit all the requisite marks of the genre and transitions into an expected stretch of silence that teases of outlandish bombast, but instead of realizing this great potential, it leads to a rather refrained conclusion highlighted by droll accompaniment that doesn’t seem to match the preceding two-and-a-half minutes of music. Later on, random chunks of the requisite bombast appear on certain tracks, but by the time the raucous blend of guitars and drums is let loose upon the audience, it’s been subjected to such a variety of sound that one is not quite sure how he has arrived at this point to appreciate the louder decadence.  And still, at other times, the music just seems a bit too busy. On the fourth track, there’s a confusing and crowded blend of electronic scratching and general noise mixed with the ambient wail of guitar, leading to a frenetic frenzy of frustration. If there was any sort of structured cohesion, then the music might be able to linger a little bit.
 
Such an important aspect of atmospheric and ambient music is the resulting emotions that the music can convey. Amongst the clutter, however, one isn’t quite sure what emotions are being evoked from this record. There is at least some enthusiasm in what is being played, as evidenced with a semi-solid conclusion to the record that dutifully merges Ziegler’s piano with Engler’s tendency for guitar that screams of an adoration for 65daysofstatic. However, this enthusiasm is often lost in translation and the audience is left wondering what is buried deep underneath the surface.

Ultimately, A Place For Nowhere proves the fact that the members of Gordon’s Tsunami Week love good music and have embarked upon the terribly difficult mission of morphing their vast array of influences into a fresh product. Like so many bands, they’ve got the gear and the right ideas. A little simplicity and some streamlining might be able to take them a long way.

-Bill Morgal