A new album by Periode, the duo of Andreas Reihse (Kreidler) and Thomas Winkler: yearning and thrilling, kraut-esque electronica that suggests the motion of travel.

Working together as Periode since 2016, the duo of Thomas Winkler and Kreidler founding member Andreas Reihse has been refining its delicate sound over the course of five releases. The ingredients are as simple as effective: an old 70-plus-year-old Telecaster guitar with a few weirdo-effect pedals, a drum machine, and an audio interface that is connected to an overloaded laptop. Winkler’s guitar patterns have a fragmented, almost haphazard connotation, searching in a shimmer of reverb, until Reihse’s beats — the framework — set in to reveal structure. On the new album, Winkler further expands these patterns by subtly honing the distinctive picking technique he originally learned in 1986 from a homeless man under the piers of Brighton — a ghostly imprint that now resurfaces with refined precision. Reihse’s programmed rhythms go just to the point of a groove, holding the moment of tension, knowingly delaying the gratification. Beats that have a scratchy patina and a subtly playful edge; their crispness stands in clear contrast to the contemplative drift of the guitar.

Their latest effort, »Grapes Of Nothingness« (actually the first that carries an album title!), is the most assured release by Periode so far. The nine tracks feel like a series of studies and variations on a mood: a profound melancholy, a certain bleakness, yet never desperate. First impressions may suggest that this is nocturnal music, yet it can equally evoke the harsh sunlight and baking heat of a summer day. Or a rainy day. And the motion of travel with Superdelay — even if maybe only in the mind … however, it remains unclear whether the listener is moving through the world, or whether the world is passing by the listener.

There are some apparent references here: a good portion of Les Disques du Crépuscule, some kraut-esque electronica, and even a smidgen of Morricone/Spaghetti Western, all blending into a kind of Musique Noir — yet these serve only as a set of orientation coordinates, rather than aesthetic quotations. Is it a trance? Or a dance? Yes.