TANGERINE DREAM LIVE: REVIEW
- Bernard Zuel
- Jun 17
- 2 min read
Updated: Jun 17
TANGERINE DREAM
City Recital Hall, Sydney, June 11
LOOKS LIKE SOME OF US picked the wrong week to be non-dope smokers.
Not that it was essential – relax Chris Minns, it wasn’t compulsory – but at some points through this two set/two and a half hour evening, maybe in the rolling pulse of Los Santos City Map, quite likely in the mesmerising repetitions of a section of Raum, and definitely in the plunging depths and slow climbs of the slice of Phaedra, the idea of losing yourself in the haze, of nodding solemnly and inhaling deeply to this soundtrack, seemed ever so appealing.
And no, despite the audience being heavily populated with people (mostly, but not exclusively, men) of a certain age who might well be emanating ancient patchouli oil and sacred ‘erb, you can’t just put this down to some hangover from the 1970s and the prog-meets-kosmische roots of the band. For a start, none of the band were even born then.
Yes, while Tangerine Dream were formed in 1967 and changed lineups around founder Edgar Froese frequently until his death in 2015, this trio lineup’s longest serving member, multi-technologist Thorsten Quaeschning, has been part of it for 20 years. Keyboardist Paul Frick is the newest, joining in 2020, while violinist and semi-closeted free dancer, Hoshiko Yamane, has clocked up 14 years now. (Whether that justifies this band being called Tangerine Dream at all is a debatable topic we don’t have room for here.)
Secondly, the music has neither stopped nor stopped evolving. While 1974’s Phaedra and 1977’s Sorcerer soundtrack were represented (the latter in the creeping movement and throbbing electronics of Betrayal), and there was the love-over-gold of a piece from 1984’s Risky Business soundtrack, the glistening, androids-with-hearts momentum of 2021’s Continuum, the strutting dance beneath a post-techno dome of 2013’s No Happy Endings, and of course the composed before us (in E minor, if you’re wondering, because it suited this room) of a new Sessions piece, reflect a continued philosophy. And continued invention.
There did seem to be a slackening of connection as the second set pulled towards its hour mark, especially after the rising tension and jagged string edges of Horizon Section 4 marked a substantial peak, but maybe that was more comedown than letdown. Probably should have just lit up another one, right granddad?
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A version of this review was first published in The Sydney Morning Herald.
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