Apoptygma Berzerk: Rocket Science

APOPTYGMA BERZERK: ROCKET SCIENCE (2009)

1) Weight Of The World; 2) Apollo (Live On Your TV); 3) Asleep Or Awake; 4) Incompatible; 5) United States Of Credit; 6) Shadow; 7) Green Queen; 8) Butterfly Defect; 9) The State Of Your Heart; 10) Rocket Calculator; 11) →; 12) Pitch Black / Heat Death; 13) Black Vs. White; 14) Trash.

Looking back on these reviews, I almost feel sorry for not giving Apop enough credit — because at least this one thing is for certain: Groth sure knows how to change without any of us being able, in any way whatsoever, to predict the nearest future. He clearly started out as a commercial act, but there was so much cling-clanging, bizarre organ-grinding, and rhythmic irregularities in his music that no one really knew where this would take him. Then it brought him to techno (er, sor­ry, «future-pop» in the band's language) — then, when he'd seemingly settled in with two albums in one distinct style, along comes You And Me Against The World. We may hate, love, despise or respect all or any of these albums, but the guy's chameleonistic behaviour is in a class of its own, enough to make history that is utterly independent of our tastes.

Now Rocket Science. Again, accompanied by many fans' claims that this is Apop at their weak­est etc. etc.; fourth time in a row, the band is seen accused of selling out and yet, somehow, ma­nages to fill up concert halls across Europe and remain in a niche all its own, away from the gla­morous environment. Again, oddity upon oddity. Technically, Rocket Science is a bit of a com­promise between the recent and the old — a step back from the dynamic, but monotonous elec­tropop of You And Me, but at the same time nowhere near a real retread towards the glossy te­chnopop of Harmonizer. The album itself does not seem to fully understand what it is, and this makes it even harder for the reviewer to come out with a judgement.

The bad news is that the songs hardly provoke positive comments. The hooks are scantier than on You And Me, and it is no surprise that the fattest of them are buried on 'Trash' — a Suede cover, proving one more time that Groth is much more adept at interpreting other people's material than writing his own. Even when he succeeds in finding an interesting groove (the metallic droning riff of 'Incompatible'), he either lets it run for far too long or spoils it with silly drum machines and synth tones that, in his hands, have not changed much in ten years' time.

Probably, though, my biggest beef with Rocket Science is that it seems emotionally stuck some­where in the neutral zone — neither dark and melancholic nor bright and optimistic, not to men­tion trying to build up an emotional axis all its own, like some visionaries, from Amon Düül II to Björk and whoever else is written with an umlaut are capable of. You And Me was sufficiently well rooted in the dark side, but here Groth has downplayed his personality and, much too often, dissolved his singing (and he is a very good singer when he feels like letting you know about it) in a sea of guitar-and-synth noise. I am afraid he does not appeal to me that-a-way, and possibly this is also the real reason for all the negative reviews — because in terms of pure melodic structure, the songwriting does not seem particularly primitive compared to what it used to be.

Somehow, it's all very, very boring, though. One would do much better to just skip this release and replace it with 2006's Sonic Diary, a 2-CD compilation of remixes and various cover ver­sions, including non-album rarities, that Apoptygma had cloned through the years — a much stronger proof of the fact that God didn't just play a stupid joke on us on that fateful day of Au­gust 10, 1971. Then again, considering that Apoptygma's latest DVD carries the name Imagine There's No Lennon, maybe he did, after all. Thumbs down to Rocket Science, but the overall verdict on this oddly twisted product of the turn-of-the-century crisis has to be postponed.

Check "Rocket Science" (CD) on Amazon
Check "Rocket Science" (MP3) on Amazon

Apoptygma Berzerk: You And Me Against The World

APOPTYGMA BERZERK: YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD (2005)

1) Tuning In Again; 2) In This Together; 3) Love To Blame; 4) You Keep Me From Breaking Apart; 5) Cambodia; 6) Back On Track; 7) Tuning In To The Frequency Of Your Soul; 8) Mercy Kill; 9) Lost In Translation; 10) Maze; 11) Into The Unknown; 12*) Shine On; 13*) Is Electronic Love To Blame?

And here comes change: an album that no one expected from Apoptygma Berzerk except for those wise few who might have suspected it — make Groth drop his techno addiction, if only for once, and he'll finally realize that dark pop masterpiece he had stuck inside himself all this time. Of course, Groth's real fans felt betrayed, because who wants to be forced to start learning new dance steps right in the middle of getting in the groove? But then who cares about a bunch of close-minded ravers anyway? Technically, they were right: You And Me was a sellout, because it sold more than any other Apop record — but all this proved was that the market for «traditio­nal rhythms» is still larger than the market for electronic dance music, and that's juicy good news for all of us nasty conservatives.

Anyway, You And Me is not really a «masterpiece» as such, but rather simply a collection of generally good, catchy, atmospheric pop-rock songs that mix electric guitar and keyboard sounds in well-balanced proportions. Complaints that Groth had sacrificed his vision / originality / idio­syn­crasy in favor of a generic «alternative electropop» (or whatever) sound are possible, but it's not as if the sounds of Welcome To Earth or Harmonizer were all that individualistic either. It would be a problem if all the songs had been faceless, but they aren't.

Some, in fact, have a new face sewn on. Kim Wilde's 1980s hit 'Cambodia' was not a totally bad song per se, but very 1980s — marrying a simplistic, ultra-repetitive hook to simplistic, cheesy keyboards. Groth and Co. took the song, enlivened and tightened up the rhythms, overlaid extra guitar and keyboard tracks, sang the whole thing with verve, and somehow made it timeless. The same applies to 'Shine On', which used to be a hit single for The House Of Love, but no more: Groth now owns the song, raising its status from, say, a measly B- to a far more assured B+, fat­tening up the sound and acting as if this were really some sort of artsy-message song. Which begs the question — why the hell bother writing original material in the first place if the best songs are complex remakes of raw Eighties' material anyway? Where's Bananarama?

The answer is that now Groth writes stuff which sounds exactly that-a-way: dance-pop, Eighties style, but with years of professional experience replacing the fresh aura of kitsch and self-bewil­derment at those out-of-nowhere goofy synth tones that could seduce people back in 1985 but now just sound annoyingly dated, for the most part. 'Cambodia' feels right at home next to 'You Keep Me From Breaking Apart' (a synth-rocker influenced by A-Ha, so it seems, with the guitar-heavy bridge particularly reminiscent of 'Manhattan Skyline') and 'Love To Blame', the album's third single — written in the same manner.

In fact, if there is any real basis for complaint, it's that the formula is almost identical for all the songs: describe one, then copy and paste. But that's how it often goes with pop-rock, and these hooks really work, as if Groth and his new bandmates were honestly inspired with the idea of re­viving generic Eighties music in a better, more meaningful setting, not just using it as a gimmick invented on the spot. And trust me, in these troubled days filled to the brim with Eighties nostal­gia, we've all heard much, much worse than You And Me Against The World. If anything, this musical philosophy may weaken a string or two in one's strung-out hate for the golden age of synth pop. Thumbs up. Oh yes, and some of the videos for the hit singles are worth watching. Groth is quite good at out-emo-ing the youngsters without ever really subscribing to proper «emo» trappings.

Check "You And Me Against The World" (CD) on Amazon
Check "You And Me Against The World" (MP3) on Amazon

Apoptygma Berzerk: Harmonizer

APOPTYGMA BERZERK: HARMONIZER (2002)

1) More Serotonin... Please; 2) Suffer In Silence; 3) Unicorn (duet version); 4) Until The End Of The World; 5) Rol­lergirl; 6) OK Amp, Let Me Out; 7) Pikachu; 8) Spindizzy; 9) Detroit Tickets; 10) Photoshop Sucks; 11) Something I Should Know; 12) Unicorn (original version); 13) Untitled 5.

There is an odd curve about this record, which starts out as Apop's technopoppiest offering ever, then slowly slowly digs into more experimental territory, with the emphasis shifted from primi­tive synth hooks to industrial-ambient grooves. The first half is, in fact, so simplistic that Groth was accused of «selling out» — a meaningless complaint, because no one really knows what exa­ctly constitutes selling out or selling in to this guy. On the other hand, it is also claimed that the album is loaded with deeply personal songs, concerning his recent divorce and stuff.

Whatever be, I have no idea how to really enjoy songs like 'Suffer In Silence' or 'Until The End Of The World' (the latter, by the way, begins with a wicked synth riff totally swindled off 'Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da', making the song cool for about five seconds). Their lyrics are tragic, but the melo­dies sound almost happy, and the silly techno beat rules over everything, confusing the senses. To be fair, there is an awful lot of sonic stuff going on in 'Suffer' — but who is going to be noticing that? Goth ravers?

Things start improving once the hit single part of the album is over. 'OK Amp, Let Me Out' is a pretty cool title, under which hides a ten-minute near-completely instrumental trance composition, melodically even simpler than the hits, but, unlike the hits, it has some specific appeal, very hard to describe or pinpoint. Maybe it's just the overall «coldness» of the electronic patterns and the doom vibes — Groth's music works best when it's completely robotic, and it fits in well with the idea of an evil spirit oozing out of an amplifier. A grinning prank almost worthy of a Richard D. James treatment, although the latter would probably find much more space for many more gim­micks over these ten minutes (then again, maybe not).

Typical of the frustration that I experience with Apoptygma is the fact that a fun title like 'OK Amp, Let Me Out' would be found right next to a song called 'Pikachu' (!) which — I am not jo­king — is technically a «dark love ballad». Okay, so it's dedicated to his daughter, and it may be really a play on words ("It's 4 A.M., I watch you sleep" — 'Pik-ach-oo', got it?), but references to the silliest excesses of Japanese pop culture in general are not OK when you are aspiring to «art»; trend-sucking, yes, but not OK. The song, too, is nothing to write home about.

By the time the album takes you through a few more odd industrial twists ('Detroit Tickets') and is finally back where we started with the final pop spin of 'Something I Should Know', this frus­trated feeling makes the record anything but a true Harmonizer. The oddities are more like a way of apologizing before the old fans of the band — «look at us, we can still do this weird dark thing that you can ritualistically dance to, but for the most part, we will just do the stupid dance thing 'cause that's what the kids really like». At least Welcome To Earth, from that point of view, was more honest about its nature. Thumbs down.

Check "Harmonizer" (CD) on Amazon
Check "Harmonizer" (MP3) on Amazon

Apoptygma Berzerk: APBL 2000

APOPTYGMA BERZERK: APBL 2000 (2001)

1) Intro; 2) Starsign; 3) Stitch; 4) Paranoia; 5) Eclipse; 6) Deep Red; 7) Soultaker; 8) Kathy's Song; 9) Non Stop Violence; 10) Fade To Black; 11) Mourn; 12) Beatbox; 13) Bitch.

This is actually Apoptygma Berzerk's (or «Apop»'s, as the band is lovingly abbreviated by fans) second live album: two years before this one, Groth released APBL98, usually castigated for hor­rendous sound quality. Well, for this second one, sound quality is certainly not a problem.

The problem is whether there actually is a need for an APBL experience in the first place. It is true that, when going on tour, Groth takes along some real musicians: here, we have two extra keyboard players, one extra real guitarist, and one extra live drummer. It is even possible to hear the live drumming. But does it even matter, if there is no real drive to transform Groth's studio creations into true «live music» on the stage?

If there is any drive at all, it is solely to wipe out any last traces of «art» there might have been left and transform all of it into a non-stop club rave where pauses between tracks are intended to give you a chance to catch your breath and nothing else. For his setlist, Groth selects only the fast techno numbers, and those few old hits that didn't used to be fast techno numbers are transformed therein ('Mourn', which I used to somewhat like before he sped it up and sucked all the gloom out of it, leaving only the danceability).

The only thing we may concede is that the guy does have stage presence: not only is he complete­ly up to the task of singing his parts well over all the noise, he also manages to cast a certain aura of creepiness during the announcements as well — the only case in history I know where the «Goth vibe» may be felt more acutely in between the performances than during them. Also, the live guitar playing on some of the tracks may make it easier for the non-electronica-weaned lis­tener to get into them. But why should such a listener pay any attention to «Apop» in the first place? Nope. Go see the show if you like getting your kicks this way — skip the record. Thumbs down — not that I expected much, but it is still disappointing to see inventiveness completely sa­crificed in favor of the generic party spirit.

Apoptygma Berzerk: Welcome To Earth

APOPTYGMA BERZERK: WELCOME TO EARTH (2000)

1) Everything We Know Is Wrong; 2) Starsign; 3) Eclipse; 4) Help Me; 5) Kathy's Song (Come Lie Next To Me); 6) Untitled 3; 7) Moment Of Tranquility; 8) Fade To Black; 9) 64K; 10) Paranoia; 11) Soultaker; 12) LNDP3; 13) Time To Move On.

Big surprise for the fans: Groth's third major release sends a 90-degree push in the direction of the «atmosphere pump». All of a sudden, the sinister, blood-thirsty overtones are gone, replaced by a mellower, much more transcendental sort of vibe. Now our main focus is on the extraterres­trial — aliens, astral forces, all sorts of paranormal crap for people who prefer to get excited on the level of the Milky Way rather than the amazing structure of the blood cell.

For a variety of reasons, not excluding commercial ones, these new ambitions are clad from head to toe in generic techno — almost omnipresent this time, as compared to the much more rhythmi­cally diverse 7. This would not be such a big problem if the emphasis were on experimentation; unfortunately, it is not. Barring the briefer links, all based on samples and collages, there are nine full-length songs on here that behave like songs, and what you are supposed to do is dance and sing along, not clutch your head in amazement, bewildered by the vast array of tones, effects, and tricky modality changes. This is pop music, not Richard D. James.

As pathetically predictable as it could be, my two favourites here — and, in fact, the only two songs I don't mind hearing once again — are the ones that shy away the most from the dum-dum rhythms. 'Moment Of Tranquility' shamelessly steals the main bassline from the Twin Peaks theme (acknowledging this indirectly by quoting a bit of dialog at the beginning), then gradually becomes a «heavenly» synth-pop ballad in the vein of A-Ha, with decent vocal hooks. 'LNDP3' is even better, with a soul-piercing part sung by guest vocalist Nan Pettersen; ironically, it is the only song on the album not written or even co-written by Groth, but rather by part-time partner Vegard Blomberg.

Incorrect, actually: the other non-Groth song is 'Fade To Black', initiating Apoptygma's most fa­mous gimmick — EBM rearrangements of unpredictably chosen classics. (Technically, 'All To­morrow's Parties' came much earlier, but that was way before Groth's transformation into a real Eurostar). Other than the buildup on the ominous bubbling intro, however, this particular experi­ence is nothing to write home about, and it certainly does not uncover any hitherto undisclosed depth to the Metallica song (and it wasn't even that much of a Ride The Lightning highlight in the first place — but then, perhaps it's a good thing Groth didn't settle on 'For Whom The Bell Tolls' instead).

The album's biggest hit was 'Kathy's Song' — nothing to do with Simon & Garfunkel, and I have no idea who Kathy is (Groth's girlfriend?), but anyway, the song is fairly typical of the rest of the album: simple, unassuming keyboard loops and easily memorable tender harmonies on the end­lessly repeated chorus ("Come lie next to me...") that, in and out of themselves, do not make the song all that different from your average Euro-synth-pop with machine-generated «hits». It does not really require a giant leap to go from here to the horror of Modern Talking.

It is hard to call the record a «sell-out», because Groth was never above aiming for mainstream success, and there is really nothing on here that he hadn't already tried — but the sad truth is that the previous two records were far more innovative and adventurous; I would not take it upon my­self to convince anyone of the band's worthiness based on Welcome To Earth per se (let alone playing only the hit singles, without 'LNDP3' which is truly this record's saving grace), and I sup­pose that even without the anti-techno bias, this is all still somewhat flaccid. Thumbs down.

Check "Welcome To Earth" (CD) on Amazon
Check "Welcome To Earth" (MP3) on Amazon