Many bands call themselves “collectives,” but few make music that actually sounds communal and leaderless. In those rare cases, individual voices converge into shared vision, but strands in the resulting web stay distinct rather than blurring into anonymity: think of the natural waves of Japan’s Taj Mahal Travellers, the fuzzy trips of Germany’s Amon Düül, the free-flowing rock of Sweden’s Träd, Gräs Och Stenar, or the rattling jams of New York’s No-Neck Blues Band.
It might be premature to rank German collective Datashock among those legends; even their own label has called them “young punks pretending to be old hippies.” But their work over the past decade suggests they could join that echelon. They frequently catch magic moments of emergence, as a patient assemblage of exploratory sounds grows into something transcendent. They’ll wander around with their heads pointed skyward until at some point – often one you don’t notice until they’ve already passed it – they shift into a higher gear.
Moments like that abound on Keine Oase in Sicht (German for “No Oasis in Sight”), Datashock's best effort to date. There are times when it feels like they’re toying with their own powers, meditating so long you start to think they’ll never uncover an epiphany—and, inevitably, a climax arrives to justify the group’s long mountain climb. The album opens with the longest climb, the 14-minute “Mudschahidin der Liebe”, whose oscillating organ tones and rave-up crescendo resemble a stretched-out Spiritualized. “Rubinregen aus der spirituellen Sphäre” waltzes stonedly to a peak in the vein of Bardo Pond or Eternal Tapestry, and “Her mit dem Kelch, (das) hier muss es sein” is practically funk—James Chance reimagined as a hippie. Even something as gaseous as “Desert Lustgerte, Goldnougat Gobi” ends in a miniature flash of rolling beat that retroactively reveals direction in the sounds that led to it.
Compared to other groups who deal in this kind of slow-burning ascension, Datashock are rarely noisy or cacophonous. Instrumental music that’s largely improvised has the tendency to become clutttered, but Datashock express profundity within a clean, spacious sound. Every element is easily legible, but there’s still a dense atmosphere throughout, borne of keen communication and palpable dedication to a common cause.
Much of Keine Oase in Sicht is mellow and soothing, but it’s never boring. Such accessibility could make Datashock the underground avant collective for people that like overground psychedelic rock—stranger things have happened—but external validation is, most likely, low on Datashock’s list of priorities. When you’re banded together toward a greater vision, the periphery isn't a big deal.
