Conny Frischauf

In the artist's words:

Following "Die Drift" (Bureau B, 2021), "Kenne Keine Töne" is the second studio album by Vienna-based artist Conny Frischauf. Between pop and experiment, she embarks on a search for the momentary, transitions and sonorous threshold spaces, creating a fascinating sound laboratory with "Kenne Keine Töne" that invites us to readjust our listening habits.

"Where are the clouds going? In a hurry or what. Flying over there in a hurry. I can't blame them here either. So I watch them. And sit on them straight away. And only realize when I'm on the ground. It's not a cotton ball" - sings Viennese artist Conny Frischauf in the opening track of her second album "Kenne Keine Töne". The things around us are not as we see them, and so she leads us into her synaesthetic sound laboratory, where she acousmatically explores stones, wind, water and other phenomena as sound events and, paired with delicate pop borrowings, makes them audible and turns them into true marvels.

In the sixteen pieces on her latest album, Frischauf plays with our senses. Field recordings, carefully microphoned percussion instruments, aerophones, hand claps and cozy synth sounds become finely balanced antagonists on this album, digging deep into our auditory canals. Once in the inner ear, the music begins to tickle us, to nudge us, to touch us haptically from the inside, so that we want to touch our ears, feel them with our hands to make sure, and ask ourselves: Is it possible to be on both sides of the auditory funnel at the same time? Frischauf's music is not only audible, through the sense of hearing it becomes haptic and on the track "Fragrances" even olfactory.

Frischauf's lyrics and music are not about clear linear temporal sequences, but about the spatial coming together of several possible meanings. Frischauf wanted to grant this independence to the sounds and ideas on the album. This approach becomes audible on the delicately dubbed track "Schall und Schwer", which draws us into a melancholy vortex: "Grinds in. Dunk yourself in. Comes to me. Wants to come to you" - Frischauf's vocals sweep over the syncopated bass line, lyrically exploring the relationship between strength and vulnerability, before the piece finally fades out with synthesized snare drums that circle around the action like seagulls.

"Bisschen Träumen" is intoned by a monotonous beep, perhaps the busy signal of a telephone, which multiplies and finally unfolds into a concertante music on hold - a hyperreal muzakalic echo chamber filled with longing, dreams and laconicism.

On "Kreise", "Test" and "Nordwestwind", she directs her thoughtful gaze outwards: "Nordwestwind beats our ears stiff. We burn in the middle. Fall into the Danube. It's as warm as soup. Sitting by the canal again. Being subjected to forced sound again. Say nothing and mean a lot. Flying high on the merry-go-round", Frischauf's voice intertwines with hypnotic ambient noise, onomatopoeic vocals and pulsating beats.

On the piece "Röte", an uninhibited polyphonic ensemble of airy recorders reminiscent of conch shell horns performs. In a Dadaist manner, Frischauf defies general duty fulfillment ("M") and makes advances on traditional experimental quiet compositions on the piece "Zwei Minuten". As if in a trance, she traces the melodic qualities of percussion instruments ("Interlude") or gives us her bare voice on the piece "Nichts", which - accompanied by the bare background noise - withdraws from the terror of everyday life flooded with stimuli.

It is the reduction that makes a certain understatement resonate on "Kenne Keine Töne", and yet this withdrawal only conceals Frischauf's passion for playing with sound. With so many ideas, it is a small wonder that the album remains so personal, casual and melodic and develops its very own groove, which at some points asks the audience to dance. Conny Frischauf's music drills deep holes into the solidified walls of our listening habits and nourishes the very needs of our eardrums.

- Chrizzi Heinen

This content has been machine translated.