First vinyl edition of an early Brannten Schnure cassette first released way back in the pre-shop days of 2014 by the now dormant SicSic imprint. It seems appropriate that a Brannten Schnure record entitled Aprilnacht (trans: April Night) should turn up in early May, a coincidence that somehow captures "the shadow with no origin" quality of their distinct sound: an echo of an idea, after the fact, built from unresolvable mysteries and multitudes... And this eleven track collection shows that the shadowy German outfit were completely in command of their vision swiftly out the gate, youthful iconoclasts with veteran knowledge tying together the overlapping worlds of post-industrial, neo-folk/volksmusik, ambient and ghostbox plunderphonics into a unsettling dreamstate collage. What's notable about this record within the BS catalog is that it signals the final recordings made before Katie Rich joined, with Christian Schoppik here taking charge of vocals, his sing-song incantations channeling the dystopian communiques of both Novy Svet and Coil in varying measures. Comparing Brannten Schnure to others feels a little clumsy, though, since there's always been a sense of the sui generis to their work, the past remodelled into some kind of uncanny interpretation of a present that is uniquely theirs. And stranger still, there's an undoubted nostalgic quality to Aprilnacht - the reanimating of old forms, the references to historical philosophical texts and poetry, the re-imagining of a pre-modern world - which reveals an unusual tension: how can something so obviously constructed from the past feel so new and unique? it's that kind of unresolved dichotomy that seems to fuel the entire Brannten Schnure universe, where nothing is quite as it seems, and little in the way of explanation is forthcoming. The truth of the desire remains hidden in the unknown unknowns. Just as it should be