Send "Apparat " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Apparat's Sascha Ring has kept busy the last few years with various mixes and side projects-- an entry into the DJ-Kicks series, his Moderat collaboration with fellow Berliners Modeselektor-- but hasn't released a proper solo album since 2007's Walls. That record, which brought together electro-shoegaze sweep with a vocal-driven pop approach, felt like a breakthrough for him. In place of the dance-floor glitch of his early-2000s work were songs with hooks, and his sense of lush atmosphere gave them a certain weight and grandiosity. Writers mentioned 1990s dream-poppers Slowdive, and that seemed like an apt comparison for the velvety digital fusion he was exploring.Of course, a lot's changed in four years, and Ring's latest LP, The Devil's Walk, arrives at a time when vocal electronic music is more popular than ever. Though his style differs quite a bit from guys like James Blake or the chillwave set, there's nonetheless a bigger audience for pop set to programmed beats. And anyone checking in for the first time should find plenty to like here, right off the bat. Particularly in the record's front half, Ring shows off formidable production skill, wrapping his whispery vocals in some straight-up gorgeous arrangements. Synths swell up and retreat, drums skitter in and out frame-- there's a lot of motion but it's got grace and purpose. But this isn't an instrumental record, and in order for it to succeed on multiple levels, the lyrics and songwriting should be on point, too. That happens some of the time-- "Song of Los" and "Black Water" showcase Ring at his most emotive, his melancholic vocals and phrases yearning and nearly anthemic. But several of these tracks have a vaguely cheesy, power-ballad quality about them. It's a hard thing to put your finger on, but much of The Devil's Walk seems like it was intended to be "epic"-- there are plenty of whisper-to-a-roar builds, at least on the vocal side-- and this pursuit of bigness gets tangled up in overly sentimental, conventional radio-pop delivery....full text |
| Spin |
| Apparat's Sascha Ring has opened for Radiohead (as one half of Moderat), released 2007's acclaimed full-length Walls, and helped shape modern techno by cofounding the Shitkatapult label (apparently there's a German word for everything). Now, like James Blake's recent work, The Devil's Walk creates a compelling mix of programming virtuosity, songcraft, and plaintive vocals, with spastic blips fluttering amid languid string washes, while a mechanical scrim obscures and accentuates the underlying emotions. If Say Anything were made today, John Cusack might blare "Black Water" from his portable, solar-powered, high-end MP3-bazooka tube....full text |
| Bbc |
| Berlin-based producer Sascha Ring, aka Apparat, positioned his DJ Kicks mix, released in 2010, as a farewell to the dancefloor-focussed section of his career. His label Shitkatapult continues to release house and techno, but with The Devil’s Walk Ring appears to have abandoned tracks that aim to move bodies in favour of songs that aim to move hearts. The sonic touchstones for The Devil’s Walk include Junior Boys, M83, the melancholic pop of Maximilian Hecker and, most obviously, Sigur Rós. The Icelandic band’s predilection for surging anthems that quiver between celebration and sorrow looms large on Song of Los and Black Water, while The Soft Voices Die is so indebted as to be pastiche. Elsewhere Ring tends to keep on the right side of influence, but his magpie tendencies remain apparent. The richly melodic A Bang in the Void, for example, apes Steve Reich’s counterpoint works of the 1970s, as did Not a Number from his previous solo album, Walls (2007). Ring’s attention to detail is typically exquisite here: the looped bowing of a cello provides a droning bassline beneath pitch-bent chimes. Vocally The Devil’s Walk finds Ring in lovelorn, po-faced mood. Song of Los, Black Water and Ash/Black Veil are essentially traditional power ballads given a tasteful electronic spritz: they’re catchy, melodramatic, and pretty cheesy. Candil de la Calle pulls a lot of the same moves, but the shuddering lurch of its dubstep-influenced rhythm establishes a more interesting push and pull between vocal and melody. Ring’s reliance on the power ballad form is puzzling. It’s when he steps away from it, as on closing track Your House is My World, where a tremulous banjo and strings cocoon his Vincent Gallo-like vocal, that he achieves his most startling effects. It’s telling that one of the best songs here doesn’t feature Ring behind the microphone. Goodbye resonates with the doom-laden delivery of Anja Plaschg, aka Soap&Skin, intoning above scrabbly clouds of acoustic guitar and piano chords that sink like a corpse in water. If only there was more drama of this sort here, and a little less schmaltz, to bolster Ring’s talent as an arranger and a producer....full text |
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