rue to Erstwhile’s “first pairings” doctrine, eh marks the first duo recording from two of Vienna’s most innovative improvisers, guitarist Burkhard Stangl and turntablist Dieter Kovacic, better known as Dieb13. Both Stangl and Dieb13 have long worked together as members of the Austrian electroacoustic quartet Efzeg, a group whose dark and restrained static storms certainly serve as a preliminary touch point for much of the music found within the eh’s stylistic sprawl. While the sound may bear a resemblance to their larger group, the tone and pacing of the duo’s performance owes more to the setting for the duo’s first meeting in 1999 – the intimacy of a Viennese living room concert. eh is beautifully relaxed and expressive fare, and it gives the impression of sitting between two close friends playing through a leisurely – but meticulously considered – series of stratagems ranging from the hauntingly melodic to the microscopically abstracted.


The album’s ten tracks – whose titles consist of little more than ten four-character permutations of the letters “e” and “h” – explore the full gamut of sonic possibility, from raging metallic drone to gently rumbling drifts of gritty ambience with flashes of melodic invention. Stangl’s playing alternates between muted prepared guitar scratch, string-rattling noise hysterics, and a lulling blues-tinged melodic approach reminiscent of the echoed plucking of latter-day John Fahey or the less ethereal wanderings of Loren Mazzacane Connors. Dieb13 deftly maneuvers his turntables between the poles of turntable-as-sound-generator purism and vinyl citation, creating a deep and shifting silt littered with pockets of electronic interference and the ghostly warbling of antiquated records. Mixing and matching their wealth of techniques, Stangl and Kovacic play between the limits of economy and exploration to create a series of captivating vignettes marked as much by rapt attention to sonic detail as by a pleasantly tempered expressiveness.


The album is framed most notably by two beautifully hushed pieces casting Stangl’s angular blues melodies against Dieb13’s warm backdrop of antique vinyl crackles and electronic chirps. In the first duet, Stangl’s languid plucking suspends delicate modal wisps that spiral into ever-longer suggestions of melody with each passing repetition, sometimes withdrawing from his melodic arc to leave eerie resonance hanging above Kovacic’s glitch whispers. The electronics take a more aggressive stance in the final moments of the piece, as Kovacic attempts to bury the unflinching Stangl beneath chunks of sharp-edged detritus left to dull into a muffled rustle beneath distilled blues guitar. The final track follows a similar course but replaces Dieb’s vinyl crackle with a gorgeous aerosol mist of granular prickles, digital chimes, and woozy interludes of wavering noise. Like the first track, there is a final surge of noise, but Dieb’s second encroachment ends with an abrupt and eerie silence. In a moment nothing short of breathtaking, the final gasp of Stangl’s back-porch elegy lingers plaintively in otherwise empty air. It’s a brilliant postscript and a stunning moment in a genre not typically known for convincing conclusions – a moment of expressive power that reflects a potent musical sensitivity and transcends much of the perceived airlessness of improvised music.


The middle portion of eh offers equally satisfying, if not as immediately accessible, music for those willing to delve into its spinier interior. The album’s inner tracks quickly dispel any initial “guitar with electronic accompaniment” impressions with aplomb. Dieb13’s approach becomes decidedly more proactive, and the increased restlessness of his rough-edged noisescapes leaves Stangl to nestle shards of bowed guitar and metallic plunks in the gaps between surges. Though the dynamic of many tracks – particularly the whispery “eehe” and “ehee” – hovers just above audibility, the level of activity maintains a remarkable density, with Kovacic and Stangl weaving increasingly anonymous gestures into a bustling microcosm of scattered debris. A few tracks find the duo exploring more aggressive dynamic territory with surprising results – the full-on noise assault of “ehhh” betrays a hidden layer of scraped strings and depth charge rumbles, while the skipping 78-RPM wobble and synth squelches of “eehh” evoke a queasy nostalgia before dissolving into a splintery series of static eruptions. Though they may mine more difficult territory, these tracks maintain the heightened focus of the delicate outer tracks while transmuting their expressive potential into considerably spikier exchanges.


Like all of Erstwhile’s releases, eh is masterfully recorded, edited, and packaged – a major benefit, since eh requires numerous listens to unfold beyond the beauty of its elegant introduction and epilogue. It’s challenging and richly rewarding material, the sound of long-time partners exercising the full freedom and flexibility of the duo setting as well as the limitless potential of the respective instruments. Moreover, Stangl and Dieb13 succeed in creating an interior dialogue as filled with expressive reference as it is with audible nuance – each surprise textural turn or voice leaking from vinyl uncovers new atmospheres and invites new associations. eh is both a cerebral and sensual pleasure and further proof of the limitless creative potential of the new wave of electroacoustic improvisation.