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Bremen are a duo from Sweden. Despite releasing on Blackest Ever Black, they aren’t techno boys: wow! Instead, they play a blackened form of minimal psychedelia, forging a direct link to some foresty nether regions of the mind. Eclipsed is their second for the label, and stretches out over 2 LPs.

  • Double LP £19.49
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  • BLACKEST048 / 2LP on Blackest Ever Black
  • Includes download code
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Eclipsed by Bremen 1 review. Add your own review. 8/10
9 people love this record. Be the 10th!

8/10 Staff review, 10 February 2016

I first listened to this record in my living room with Christmas lights on as me and my housemates independently read a one-hundred-and-seventy-pages long .pdf about the lore of Bloodborne. It did the trick. It’s rare that I’m infatuated with a record released under the Blackest Ever Black imprint but this gorgeous and unflinching record is everything that setting suggests: it’s luminous, it’s pitch black; it’s terrifying, it’s settling; it’s in the woods and through the black hole.

‘Eclipsed’ is Bremen’s third record in as many years, which is a good objective (Robert Pollard is about to reunite Guided By Voices for their fifty-thousandth record; these guys are getting it just right). It opens with a piano motif that digs dangerously close to the listeners ears, while the rest of the band distance themselves in a psychedelic space rawk haze of delayed chords and wah -- think Blown Out if they were assigned a mission. As the song peaks into the later stages, synths glisten, providing an overhead for the song’s wide scope. We often like to compliment bands arbitrarily for their atmosphere, but, listen: the atmosphere on this thing. It plays with light and dark and gives you the feeling that the world is actually alive and moving, even when you aren’t looking.

There’s so much to get into and so little time, so I’m going to point out some banner moments. The yo-yo wound ambience of “Helmet”, which swirls with new age renown. The ten minute galaxian baroque epic “Scorched Earth”, whose piano figure divests into synths as ice cold as Sarah Davachi’s before rumbling into guitar riffs that sound like ‘Drums & Guns’ era Low distorted into a Fuzz Club band. The way the music sounds as cold as your breath looks this February on “The Art of Non-Existence”. The sickly, twanging ghost voices of “A Glimpse At The Final Moment”. A song called “Universal” that doesn’t suck. It’s all here, packaged into one proudly epic, lonely sci-fi expedition.



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