Number station spookiness aus Deutschland
Heiko Maile, founder member of 80s German synth pop pioneers Camouflage, has teamed up with film composer Julian Demarre for an album of atmospheric electronica called ‘Neostalgia‘. Released on the ever-reliable Bureau B label, the new project mines the history of electronic music and Cold War paranoia with chilling efficiency.
“It’s no secret that we love electronic music,“ says Maile. “Bebe and Louis Barron were before our time, Oskar Sala’s abstract sounds for ‘The Birds‘ still resonated as far as Trumansburg, NY, when Bob Moog, together with Herbert Deutsch, introduced his groundbreaking synthesiser modules. Meanwhile, in distant Japan, Ikutarō Kakehashi built his first rhythm machine. Later iterations would then become very important electronic instruments for us. Born in a decade in which the term ‘synthesiser’ rarely came up in a West German household, especially in conversation with a 12-year-old, my parents’ music-loving acquaintance came to visit at just the right moment. This led me to a completely new world, to never-before-heard sounds of a Bach arrangement by Wendy Carlos and to, at least at the time, futuristic-sounding pop songs like ‘Popcorn‘ and ‘Magic Fly‘. Growing up as teenagers with krautrock, Pink Floyd and Roxy Music was an essential experience that led us to the cool sounds of John Foxx, the cross-genre electronics of the Yellow Magic Orchestra and the artistic radicalism of Conrad Schnitzler. In general, our youth in West Germany was shaped by the Cold War, which gave rise to the ‘no future‘ zeitgeist. In this context, the sounds and images of Ridley Scott’s ‘Blade Runner‘ and the esoteric sound experiments of Brian Eno with Robert Fripp had a powerful impact. The DIY attitude of many post-punk bands from Europe such as The Human League or Liaisons Dangereuses, who produced their music exclusively with electronic instruments, was the deciding factor to try it out ourselves.“
The video for the track ‘Number Stations’ neatly encapsulates the pair’s aesthetic, and they expand on the theme for us here.
What personal experiences with number stations during your teenage years influenced the creation of this track?
JD: One Christmas I got a portable transistor radio, the thing you could take to the beach. It had FM and AM and a fine tuner. There was a Sunday afternoon program with the latest UK singles charts and a Friday show at 10pm (Doctor Music) which I secretly listened to. Of course I was curious what else was out there. Between my favourite stations I turned the dial and suddenly I heard voices that became clearer and clearer, these strange ladies who repeated letters and numbers in a strange, stilted way and said “fuennef” instead of “fuenf” and “zwo” instead of “zwei”. I wondered what this was about and after my uncle took me to my first James Bond film it became much clearer. Heiko must have had a similar experience, I am sure he also secretly listened to Dr Music.
How did you recreate or reference the sound of synthetic female voices from the original number stations in your composition?
HM: The original idea for this track came about without any reference to number stations. However, once this theme presented itself as an interesting topic for an album track, I researched online and quickly found extensive sources that described many of these number stations, often with accompanying audio recordings. I also came across a recording of the Russian station UZB-76 (UVB-76), which was established in the 1970s, during the time of the Soviet Union, in a military district in Moscow and has since broadcast a shortwave signal on the frequency 4625 kHz to this day. As a so-called channel marker, it transmits a kind of rhythmic buzzing sound, which has earned the station the nickname “The Buzzer” among radio amateurs. We modified and edited these recordings so that they fit as the foundational rhythm for our track.
JD: The female voices are authentic recordings taken from original broadcasts of the time. We had a basic structure for a track and after a conversation about growing up in the 70s, Heiko came back a day later with a collage of number station broadcasts he had made and tons of internet links for me to read up about the origins. During production, he fine tuned this collage, adding not only voices but also Morse code, sine and other waveforms in certain frequency ranges. It became clear that the best way to start with the collage would be to give it an ambient space with micro loops where this data could travel, similar to how data would travel around the world.
How does ‘Number Stations‘ reflect the broader themes explored in your album ‘Neostalgia‘?
HM: Many compositions in modern electronic music tend to avoid a distinctive melody. This was quite different in the 70s and 80s; just think of the albums by Jean-Michel Jarre or Vangelis. It might be precisely these elements in “Number Stations,” as well as in other tracks on our album, that create a connection to the music of that era, regardless of the actual sound. Taking your time and relying on a clear melody, without a constantly driving and leading pulse, may also have been a decisive factor in our choice of the album name.
JD: One of the predominant themes of the album is our desire to look back and relive the days when we had zero responsibilities. The litmus test of a good childhood could be exactly this desire. We trusted our parents when it came to making decisions and showing our feelings, we had the illusion that our parents didn’t have to worry about anything. We experienced boring and exciting days, got to know the world and learned to distinguish between normal and unusual. School and a daily structure were normal. But every now and then we encountered strange and unique things, like the oil crisis Sunday when motorways in Germany were deserted and we went for a longer walk on its 4 lanes, together with many other people. Or the protest marches against Pershing II or the Frankfurt Startbahn West. Politically charged times, just like today.
How did you collaborate with film director Daniel Lwowski to create the music video for ‘Number Stations‘, and how did his personal experience growing up in Germany inform the visual narrative?
JD: Daniel surprised us with a stunning video for ‘Universal Universe‘, another single from ‘Neostalgia‘. During production we mentioned that there was one more piece, that might be perfect for him, dealing with a mystery from his teenage years. We played the track and described typical spy film cliches. Which made Daniel laugh. He said, ‘Sure, that would work, but I have a better idea.‘ A few weeks later we heard from him and there was a rough cut full of architectural beauty in decay. Ridley Scott would love it.
Can you explain how the term ‘Neostalgia‘ relates to both the album’s sound and its thematic exploration of the Cold War era? How do you see ‘Number Stations‘ as a reflection of current global tensions?
JD: The best of the music we grew up with in the 70s and 80s was adventurous and had a desire to be unusual and thought-provoking. We love the sound of a Mellotron as much as we love the punch of a rock band and the sound of great computer plug-ins today. We just prefer not to have to choose between those worlds. We long to relive the 70s and 80s, even though we still dislike the politics of that era: Thatcher, Reagan, Brezhnev – the threat of a very possible nuclear war, acid rain, Chernobyl and AIDS. Ironically, we live in a very similar world today. And as tricky as things are right now, it’s fascinating to live in the “now” and compare it to the past. Maybe in 40 years’ time people will say the same about the 2020s.
As German musicians, how does your personal connection to Berlin’s divided history influence your perspective on this material?
JD: Heiko and I both have lived in Berlin for some time. Before we lived there, West Berlin felt like an island of freedom, expression and adventure, surrounded by borders, right next to a totalitarian system with its own art scene. Great painters, writers and filmmakers worked in the GDR and Poland under restrictions they had learned to deal with. There’s a reason Bowie was drawn to the place. And of course, the pop and pulp culture of the 60s and 70s, with its Technicolor spy films, conveyed this feeling of isolation and covert operations. In the end, everything seems to go in circles, be it art, design or politics. We live in a moment of uncertainty right now, dancing on the tightrope above the abyss and expressing this feeling as writers or musicians. We would love to know what comes afterwards and maybe that triggers a desire to look back.
Which specific equipment or instruments from 70s and 80s European electronic music influenced your retro-electronic production choices?
JD: At the time, music from Germany was on a quest to find its own niche while absorbing the best of British and American music. The instruments were the same ones you would find on stages in Great Britain and the US. Weather Report, King Crimson, Can, Neu!, Amon Düül sounded very different, but they all used synthesisers combined with a rock band setup, be it a Minimoog or Solina Strings or an Arp 2600, which was later replaced by the Prophets, the Rolands and the Oberheims.
You can order the album over at their Bandcamp
