Some duos aim for fusion. Nevers prefer friction. On "Berlin", the first studio album by Nevers, the meeting of guzheng and electronics is not a polite cultural exchange. It is a negotiation conducted in sparks, grain, and air pressure.
Released on Eich, the label founded by Jean-Philippe Gross himself, this record distills nearly two decades of collaboration between Gross and Australian composer and designer Clare Cooper. Since forming in Berlin in 2007, they have pursued an acoustic-electro-acoustic practice that refuses hierarchy. No conventional sound system, yet always electricity. The paradox is intentional. The guzheng, an instrument with a history stretching back centuries, is not placed on a pedestal. Nor is it swallowed by electronics. Instead, it is fed into a web of lo-fi microphones, feedback loops, localized speakers, and Gross’s tactile manipulation of signal.
The album was recorded in a Berlin kitchen, a cab, and a performance space. That detail matters. These are not sterile studio abstractions. The guzheng sessions from October 2024 became the raw matter, later edited and shaped into thirteen concise pieces. Each track feels like a fragment of a larger organism, self-contained but clearly part of a broader ecology.
Cooper’s background is as expansive as her instrument’s range. A PhD, a design lecturer in Sydney, co-founder of initiatives such as Splinter Orchestra and Splitter Orchester, she moves between pedagogy, governance, speculative design, and performance. That interdisciplinarity seeps into her playing. The guzheng here is not exotic decoration. It is treated as a site of inquiry. Strings are plucked, scraped, bent. Resonances bloom and then are interrupted. Sometimes the instrument sounds like it is remembering its own past; at other times it seems to be discovering entirely new textures.
Gross, self-taught and deeply physical in his approach, works with no-input mixing systems and modular synthesis. His electronics do not smooth things over. They provoke. Feedback becomes a collaborator rather than an accident. At moments, the record resembles a small electrical fire crackling through a flea market of obsolete devices. Elsewhere, it suggests an amplified procession of insects, meticulously organized and faintly menacing. The humour lies in the extremity. There are passages where you might reasonably ask whether this is chamber music or a patient disassembling itself.
Tracks like “Electronic with Guzheng” and its mirrored counterpart “Guzheng with electronic” play with perception. Which element leads? Which one comments? The titles hint at role reversal, but the music keeps the balance unstable. Short interludes such as “Berlin one”, “Berlin two”, and “Berlin three” function almost like breath marks in a dense conversation. “Strasbourg” nods toward Gross’s origins, while “Ride to the venue” captures the restless in-between of touring life, compressed into a few minutes of tense oscillation.
Mastered by Taku Unami, the album maintains a raw clarity. Nothing is overly polished. Grain and rupture are preserved as essential qualities. This is deep listening music, but not in the tranquil sense. It demands attention to micro-events: the scrape of a string against a pickup, the subtle shift of a feedback loop, the way acoustic vibration and electronic resonance entangle.
What makes "Berlin" compelling is its refusal of nostalgia. The guzheng is not treated as heritage. The electronics are not framed as futurist spectacle. Both are materials in a shared present. The result is a body of work that feels grounded in place yet resistant to fixed identity. Berlin here is less a city than a method: porous, improvised, layered with history, and occasionally abrasive.
For those expecting seamless ambience, this will feel confrontational. For those willing to inhabit its textures, "Berlin" offers something rarer: a sustained study in how two distinct sonic languages can coexist without merging into bland compromise. It is not about harmony. It is about proximity, tension, and the quiet thrill of sound discovering itself in real time.