In 2000, Schneider TM (given name: Dirk Dresselhaus) released an EP called Binokular in collaboration with associate KPT.michi.gan. The record was solid straight through, but it received notice primarily because it contained a cover of The Smiths' classic "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out," re-titled "The Light 3000" and given a serious digital makeover, complete with robotic voices and squishy programming.
Two years on, it's clear that "The Light 3000" will be seen as something of a landmark in the small, cloistered world of IDM. This clever cover essentially expanded the emotional range of the genre, showing that quirky, abstract electronic production could be integrated seamlessly into a pop context. By dressing up a familiar tune in vibrant electronic tones, Schneider TM showed that glitchy electronic pop could evoke nostalgia, express sadness and longing, and give the head-nodding set something to sing along to.
Zoomer, Schneider TM's second full-length after 1998's Moist, finds Dresselhaus moving further along the pop path. His vocals are featured prominently on over half the tracks, sometimes sans-processing. The first thing that came to mind when I heard Zoomer is that this is the album Air could have made after Moon Safari if they'd traded in the analog gear for a Powerbook and forgotten about rock entirely. There's a kind of folksy lounginess to the melodies and arrangements here reminiscent of the French band; I believe it's the same sort of vibe that compels Air to work with Beck.
But while the tunes draw from tradition, the underlying production is pure Third Millennium Germany, the sort of warm, squelchy machine music birthed by Mouse on Mars on Vulvaland and gestated throughout the 90s by kindred spirits at the A-Musik label. It's an electronic sound made for pop, as anyone who's heard Yamo (the collaboration between Wolfgang Flur and Mouse on Mars) can attest, but here it's given an even more song-oriented context, and it works beautifully.
The proper songs are front-loaded on Zoomer. Of the first five tracks, one is heavily processed robotic folk ("Reality Check"), one is a sun-kissed feature for harmony vocals ("Frogtoise"), one is a jazzy croon that reminds me of The Sea & Cake ("Abyss"), one is a smiling, upbeat track that sounds like something on Nobukazu Takemura's Childisc ("DJ Guy"), and one is a surprisingly funky rap that owes a lot to UK Garage ("Turn On", with vocals by Max Turner). After that, two instrumentals follow, thick with the glow of harmonic distortion, bubbling over with cracks and pops, and generally making a fine racket. The downcast "Cuba TM" ends the album on a similar note to the opener, but with busier digital production and a more melancholy feel.
Zoomer is a very, very good album, but one thing it makes clear is that the songwriting aspect of this sort of lap[pop] hybrid must continue to improve. I haven't quoted any lyrics here because they're just not that memorable, and while the tunes themselves are always good, another listen to "The Light 3000" makes clear that Dresselhaus is far cry from Johnny Marr. Still, I love the direction Schneider TM seems to be moving in with Zoomer. When you've been listening to a lot of abstract electronic music and you're hoping for a bit more melody, this is exactly what you want to hear.
