It hurts to speak of this album. I'm supposed to be kind of good at describing and recommending music, but II is just one of those albums whose grace stays the fool’s hand. The album’s effortless wielding of energies is too lovely to screw up. How does Thomas Bücker blend everything together so magically? The German musician creates imaginary film soundtracks as Bersarin Quartett, and it would take an equally masterful eye to match the masterful ear displayed here. Bücker’s debut album of “chamber-tronics” is a timeless work of art, and where II changes things up is in its emotional direction. Unlike the exuberence of the debut, II feels much more baroque and personal, as if the story being told is about the glories and sunken dreams of one person. “Im Lichte des Anderen” uses but one string progression, yet so much emotion is wrung from it we can clearly see the character barely holding on to the shreds of a love that must be let go. All of the instruments are real, ensuring that the symphonics do not ring hollow. Bersarin Quartett’s music is so effective because in hitting all the right notes in all the right places for seventy minutes straight, so much of what is true about life as a human being is wrapped up in its DNA. Between every drum resonance is our frailty, between the clarinet and violin a buried hope. The piano lives and breathes a joy we won’t allow ourselves to feel. The tasteful electronics are the vehicle we try to ride on the road to freedom. The balance of growth and decay. The unobtainable expressed. Each listen will provide new secrets both in sound and in mind. This music captures a darkness that every human being shares in a quest for lightness of being. Bersarin Quartett strikes again.
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