Catalogo - El alma de la estrella

Diseño Corbusier

El alma de la estrella


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18,00

Vinilísssimo

Diseño Corbusier

El alma de la estrella


SKU: MR-SSS 28  | 

Formed in Granada by Ani Zinc, who also recorded under the name Neo Zelanda, and Javier G Marín, Diseño Corbusier were a fascinating and unique project of avant-garde electronics. Their second LP, El alma de la estrella (1986), is a marvel of sound craftwork that gathers elements of industrial music, minimal techno, vocal manipulation through a dadaist and completely personal approach.

In the mid-80s Granada was a small redoubt of avant-garde resistance. While Madrid bragged about being the capital of the new wave scene – the much-trumpeted Movida madrileña –, away from any media interest the Andalusian city was part of a European-wide network where the free circulation of ideas and knowledge could be linked to the current copyleft movement. An international scene where musicians were editors and the artists were equally fans. They exchanged music following that do-it-yourself philosophy in which the cassette had an ideal role as the vehicle of music difussion. Ani Zinc would become an expert amateur of such activities. As a child, there were no records in her home in Andújar, but radio gave her company. It was her only contact with music. She received her first shock listening to ‘Remember Love’, the repetitive song by Yoko Ono. She later found out about Llorenç Barber. Only when she arrived in Granada to study psychology did she discover that she wasn’t the only one that liked a kind of music that didn’t resemble anything. Granada’s proximity to Africa made it possible to tune into Arabic, flamenco and pop radio stations. She would record those sounds with a radio cassette and with her own hands would cut and paste the magnetic tape. Unable to get that Yoko Ono song off her mind, she started discovering the possibilities of her voice. Diseño Corbusier was born out of that obsession. Also out of the electronic explorations of Javier G Marín, then a first year law student. They had met in 1981 after an ad in the music magazine Vibraciones. If you’re into bands like Cabaret Voltaire or Flying Lizards, call me, wrote Marín. If their first record (Pérfido encanto, 1985) was a vibrant experiment where the rhythms weren’t yet muscled up, with El alma de la estrella the duo took a step ahead. They renovated some electronic equipment and signed a distribution deal between their own label, Auxilio de Cientos, and one of the most prosperous Spanish independents of the 80s, Nuevos Medios, who were working with labels such as Factory at the time. Marín had been advised: if the rhythm can’t be danced to the records won’t sell. It was 1986 and he was constantly listening to DAF. ‘Golpe de amistad’ came up as the most international track of a brilliant, expressionist and charmingly domestic repertoire. More confident than ever, Ani Zinc manipulated reality as if it were plasticine. El alma de la estrella gathered all her obsessions. On ‘Chiquillo’ she imitated the angry women’s voices which filled the streets of the poor neighbourhood where she had grown up. ‘Ritmo 21’ can’t hide her admiration for Yoko Ono’s vocal register and the records by French female singers that her sister used to bring her from Paris. ‘El club del ruido’ came about as a fragmented document of an interview they did on the radio show of the same name. They used everything. Marín took upon creating rhythm structures with which to organize them. This time he replaced an archaic Korg synthesizer with a powerful Roland SH101, and the tiny drum machine Boss DR-55 with a German-built one that used real percussion sounds: the MFB-512. Rather than electronic or even industrial music, Diseño Corbusier’s second album was a vibrant piece of domestic craftwork. Very few got to hear it. The apparent lack of interest by Nuevos Medios to promote a kind of music better received outside Spain wasn’t helped by the recent graduations of the couple. Selling fewer than one thousand copies didn’t really encourage the purpose to live off their imagination. Without making noise, they both finished a dadaist tale in which stories were molded as if they were plasticine and music was considered a handicraft.

1982. Dragged by decades of international isolation, Madrid and Granada performed, unaware and in their own way, the same roles that London and Sheffield had assumed during the punk explosion in the UK. While the capital grabbed headlines and considered itself the epicentre of modernity, 400 kilometres southwards, Granada developed an experimental scene despite the scarce resources available. They first got together when Ani Zinc (she liked the sound of the word "anything"), a psychology student without any previous musical experience, met two law students obsessed with the power of machines but with different approaches. Rafael Flores believed in the extreme noise of bands like Throbbing Gristle as a source of endless energy. Javier G Marín had a sexier concept of synthesizers. The outcome was natural: Marín and Ani Zinc amicably parted ways with Flores, who would have a remarkable career under the alias Comando Bruno.

View cart

18,00

Vinilísssimo

Formed in Granada by Ani Zinc, who also recorded under the name Neo Zelanda, and Javier G Marín, Diseño Corbusier were a fascinating and unique project of avant-garde electronics. Their second LP, El alma de la estrella (1986), is a marvel of sound craftwork that gathers elements of industrial music, minimal techno, vocal manipulation through a dadaist and completely personal approach.

In the mid-80s Granada was a small redoubt of avant-garde resistance. While Madrid bragged about being the capital of the new wave scene – the much-trumpeted Movida madrileña –, away from any media interest the Andalusian city was part of a European-wide network where the free circulation of ideas and knowledge could be linked to the current copyleft movement. An international scene where musicians were editors and the artists were equally fans. They exchanged music following that do-it-yourself philosophy in which the cassette had an ideal role as the vehicle of music difussion. Ani Zinc would become an expert amateur of such activities. As a child, there were no records in her home in Andújar, but radio gave her company. It was her only contact with music. She received her first shock listening to ‘Remember Love’, the repetitive song by Yoko Ono. She later found out about Llorenç Barber. Only when she arrived in Granada to study psychology did she discover that she wasn’t the only one that liked a kind of music that didn’t resemble anything. Granada’s proximity to Africa made it possible to tune into Arabic, flamenco and pop radio stations. She would record those sounds with a radio cassette and with her own hands would cut and paste the magnetic tape. Unable to get that Yoko Ono song off her mind, she started discovering the possibilities of her voice. Diseño Corbusier was born out of that obsession. Also out of the electronic explorations of Javier G Marín, then a first year law student. They had met in 1981 after an ad in the music magazine Vibraciones. If you’re into bands like Cabaret Voltaire or Flying Lizards, call me, wrote Marín. If their first record (Pérfido encanto, 1985) was a vibrant experiment where the rhythms weren’t yet muscled up, with El alma de la estrella the duo took a step ahead. They renovated some electronic equipment and signed a distribution deal between their own label, Auxilio de Cientos, and one of the most prosperous Spanish independents of the 80s, Nuevos Medios, who were working with labels such as Factory at the time. Marín had been advised: if the rhythm can’t be danced to the records won’t sell. It was 1986 and he was constantly listening to DAF. ‘Golpe de amistad’ came up as the most international track of a brilliant, expressionist and charmingly domestic repertoire. More confident than ever, Ani Zinc manipulated reality as if it were plasticine. El alma de la estrella gathered all her obsessions. On ‘Chiquillo’ she imitated the angry women’s voices which filled the streets of the poor neighbourhood where she had grown up. ‘Ritmo 21’ can’t hide her admiration for Yoko Ono’s vocal register and the records by French female singers that her sister used to bring her from Paris. ‘El club del ruido’ came about as a fragmented document of an interview they did on the radio show of the same name. They used everything. Marín took upon creating rhythm structures with which to organize them. This time he replaced an archaic Korg synthesizer with a powerful Roland SH101, and the tiny drum machine Boss DR-55 with a German-built one that used real percussion sounds: the MFB-512. Rather than electronic or even industrial music, Diseño Corbusier’s second album was a vibrant piece of domestic craftwork. Very few got to hear it. The apparent lack of interest by Nuevos Medios to promote a kind of music better received outside Spain wasn’t helped by the recent graduations of the couple. Selling fewer than one thousand copies didn’t really encourage the purpose to live off their imagination. Without making noise, they both finished a dadaist tale in which stories were molded as if they were plasticine and music was considered a handicraft.

Productos relacionados


View cart

18,00

Vinilísssimo

El alma de la estrella

SKU: MR-SSS 28  | 

Formed in Granada by Ani Zinc, who also recorded under the name Neo Zelanda, and Javier G Marín, Diseño Corbusier were a fascinating and unique project of avant-garde electronics. Their second LP, El alma de la estrella (1986), is a marvel of sound craftwork that gathers elements of industrial music, minimal techno, vocal manipulation through a dadaist and completely personal approach.

In the mid-80s Granada was a small redoubt of avant-garde resistance. While Madrid bragged about being the capital of the new wave scene – the much-trumpeted Movida madrileña –, away from any media interest the Andalusian city was part of a European-wide network where the free circulation of ideas and knowledge could be linked to the current copyleft movement. An international scene where musicians were editors and the artists were equally fans. They exchanged music following that do-it-yourself philosophy in which the cassette had an ideal role as the vehicle of music difussion. Ani Zinc would become an expert amateur of such activities. As a child, there were no records in her home in Andújar, but radio gave her company. It was her only contact with music. She received her first shock listening to ‘Remember Love’, the repetitive song by Yoko Ono. She later found out about Llorenç Barber. Only when she arrived in Granada to study psychology did she discover that she wasn’t the only one that liked a kind of music that didn’t resemble anything. Granada’s proximity to Africa made it possible to tune into Arabic, flamenco and pop radio stations. She would record those sounds with a radio cassette and with her own hands would cut and paste the magnetic tape. Unable to get that Yoko Ono song off her mind, she started discovering the possibilities of her voice. Diseño Corbusier was born out of that obsession. Also out of the electronic explorations of Javier G Marín, then a first year law student. They had met in 1981 after an ad in the music magazine Vibraciones. If you’re into bands like Cabaret Voltaire or Flying Lizards, call me, wrote Marín. If their first record (Pérfido encanto, 1985) was a vibrant experiment where the rhythms weren’t yet muscled up, with El alma de la estrella the duo took a step ahead. They renovated some electronic equipment and signed a distribution deal between their own label, Auxilio de Cientos, and one of the most prosperous Spanish independents of the 80s, Nuevos Medios, who were working with labels such as Factory at the time. Marín had been advised: if the rhythm can’t be danced to the records won’t sell. It was 1986 and he was constantly listening to DAF. ‘Golpe de amistad’ came up as the most international track of a brilliant, expressionist and charmingly domestic repertoire. More confident than ever, Ani Zinc manipulated reality as if it were plasticine. El alma de la estrella gathered all her obsessions. On ‘Chiquillo’ she imitated the angry women’s voices which filled the streets of the poor neighbourhood where she had grown up. ‘Ritmo 21’ can’t hide her admiration for Yoko Ono’s vocal register and the records by French female singers that her sister used to bring her from Paris. ‘El club del ruido’ came about as a fragmented document of an interview they did on the radio show of the same name. They used everything. Marín took upon creating rhythm structures with which to organize them. This time he replaced an archaic Korg synthesizer with a powerful Roland SH101, and the tiny drum machine Boss DR-55 with a German-built one that used real percussion sounds: the MFB-512. Rather than electronic or even industrial music, Diseño Corbusier’s second album was a vibrant piece of domestic craftwork. Very few got to hear it. The apparent lack of interest by Nuevos Medios to promote a kind of music better received outside Spain wasn’t helped by the recent graduations of the couple. Selling fewer than one thousand copies didn’t really encourage the purpose to live off their imagination. Without making noise, they both finished a dadaist tale in which stories were molded as if they were plasticine and music was considered a handicraft.


View cart

18,00

Vinilísssimo

Diseño Corbusier

El alma de la estrella

SKU: MR-SSS 28  | 

Formed in Granada by Ani Zinc, who also recorded under the name Neo Zelanda, and Javier G Marín, Diseño Corbusier were a fascinating and unique project of avant-garde electronics. Their second LP, El alma de la estrella (1986), is a marvel of sound craftwork that gathers elements of industrial music, minimal techno, vocal manipulation through a dadaist and completely personal approach.

In the mid-80s Granada was a small redoubt of avant-garde resistance. While Madrid bragged about being the capital of the new wave scene – the much-trumpeted Movida madrileña –, away from any media interest the Andalusian city was part of a European-wide network where the free circulation of ideas and knowledge could be linked to the current copyleft movement. An international scene where musicians were editors and the artists were equally fans. They exchanged music following that do-it-yourself philosophy in which the cassette had an ideal role as the vehicle of music difussion. Ani Zinc would become an expert amateur of such activities. As a child, there were no records in her home in Andújar, but radio gave her company. It was her only contact with music. She received her first shock listening to ‘Remember Love’, the repetitive song by Yoko Ono. She later found out about Llorenç Barber. Only when she arrived in Granada to study psychology did she discover that she wasn’t the only one that liked a kind of music that didn’t resemble anything. Granada’s proximity to Africa made it possible to tune into Arabic, flamenco and pop radio stations. She would record those sounds with a radio cassette and with her own hands would cut and paste the magnetic tape. Unable to get that Yoko Ono song off her mind, she started discovering the possibilities of her voice. Diseño Corbusier was born out of that obsession. Also out of the electronic explorations of Javier G Marín, then a first year law student. They had met in 1981 after an ad in the music magazine Vibraciones. If you’re into bands like Cabaret Voltaire or Flying Lizards, call me, wrote Marín. If their first record (Pérfido encanto, 1985) was a vibrant experiment where the rhythms weren’t yet muscled up, with El alma de la estrella the duo took a step ahead. They renovated some electronic equipment and signed a distribution deal between their own label, Auxilio de Cientos, and one of the most prosperous Spanish independents of the 80s, Nuevos Medios, who were working with labels such as Factory at the time. Marín had been advised: if the rhythm can’t be danced to the records won’t sell. It was 1986 and he was constantly listening to DAF. ‘Golpe de amistad’ came up as the most international track of a brilliant, expressionist and charmingly domestic repertoire. More confident than ever, Ani Zinc manipulated reality as if it were plasticine. El alma de la estrella gathered all her obsessions. On ‘Chiquillo’ she imitated the angry women’s voices which filled the streets of the poor neighbourhood where she had grown up. ‘Ritmo 21’ can’t hide her admiration for Yoko Ono’s vocal register and the records by French female singers that her sister used to bring her from Paris. ‘El club del ruido’ came about as a fragmented document of an interview they did on the radio show of the same name. They used everything. Marín took upon creating rhythm structures with which to organize them. This time he replaced an archaic Korg synthesizer with a powerful Roland SH101, and the tiny drum machine Boss DR-55 with a German-built one that used real percussion sounds: the MFB-512. Rather than electronic or even industrial music, Diseño Corbusier’s second album was a vibrant piece of domestic craftwork. Very few got to hear it. The apparent lack of interest by Nuevos Medios to promote a kind of music better received outside Spain wasn’t helped by the recent graduations of the couple. Selling fewer than one thousand copies didn’t really encourage the purpose to live off their imagination. Without making noise, they both finished a dadaist tale in which stories were molded as if they were plasticine and music was considered a handicraft.

Productos relacionados