Lunz - Live In London
[The ICA]

A giant polar bear sitting to the side of the stage looks over proceedings positioned just under the Gronland Records sign. Make no mistake, it may say Lunz: Reinterpretations on the ticket but the gig is essentially a showcase for the off-beat label, featuring up-and-coming acts like Petra Jean Phillipson as well as more established names such as Neu! and Adem.

Lunz was the name chosen for the collaboration between ambient/electronica godfather Hans-Joachim Roedelius (whose colourful past includes being forced into the Hitler Youth) and Grammy-nominated composer Tim Story. Their debut offering consisted of wonderfully atmospheric piano melodies that quivered with astounding beauty. Last year it was re-worked by a number of musicians including Alias, Icarus, Half Cousin and Ulrich Schnauss to varying degrees of success with the gig billed as a “celebration” of that group effort.

Merz - essentially a one-man band jumping from instrument to instrument - kicks things off with a jangled assortment of simple haunting ballads and rasping folk-tinged laments. His voice fills the room and despite the small crowd the applause is fierce. He quickly hands over the baton to Gronland’s shining new star - Petra Jean Phillipson.

The last time I saw the former singer for David Holmes’ Free Association she was distinctly underwhelming; glorified background music in an overloud bar where she was overpowered by the clamor of chatter. Here in the hushed audience her sultry vocals bellow out in songs like “Independent Woman” and “Nothing If Not Writing Time” giving her the chance to show just how she has earned herself the tag of the new Martina Topley-Bird.

Then it’s on to Adem. Pedalling away at a miniature organ decorated with clown faces that wouldn’t look out of place at a kids birthday party, he delivers a beguilingly “spacey” set featuring tracks like “Love and Other Planets”. But when it comes to performing his version of the titular track on the Lunz: Reinterpretations album he admits that he didn’t know how to play it that morning. Even so he strums it to perfection: a tender, swirling love song which is accompanied by gentle plink-plonks of a glockenspiel.

When the two composers finally take the stage, the first thing Hans does is to introduce Stephan Steiner on the orla and violin. Apparently, he wasn’t featured on the publicity, a criminal omission given that his instruments add a real depth to the sparse harmonies. A brief guest appearance comes from Kevin Cormack of Half Cousin who sings on “Dew Climbs”. Holding the lyrics of the song in his hands, he gives an uneven performance and is clearly nervous, but when he eventually gets into the song it is a soaring triumph made all the more endearing with his heavy Orkney accent.

For Tim and Hans it takes a while for them to really mesh together but once they do it is thing of intense beauty acknowledged by the crowd’s reverential silence. This is the first gig I’ve ever been to where people start to sit down half-way through and even Stephan kneels quietly at the side of the stage eyes closed as if meditating when he’s not playing. Clearly, this is music to reflect to – floating fragments that trickle through the forgotten pockets of your mind.