Bernhard Hollinger isn’t your average Joe with a bass guitar. The award-winning bass virtuoso, composer, and mad scientist has finally let out his debut album as a bandleader, “1987” (Boomslang Records), and it’s a shapeshifting, mind-bending ride through the subconscious that’s both cerebral and primal. Inspired by the fractured dream logic of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks and the raw electricity of a jazz jam session that’s gone off the rails, Hollinger’s 1987 is a labyrinth in a nutshell. It’s beautiful, it’s chaotic, it’s like nothing you’ve heard before. Forget your dad’s dusty old post-rock records – this is the good stuff that’ll make your brain cells tango.
So, who’s the mastermind behind this musical circus? Hollinger’s been globetrotting for years, dipping his toes in everything from jazz to electronic weirdness. Now he’s grabbed the reins and assembled a crew of absolute monsters. We’re talking Grammy-nominated guitarists (Ashton Sellars), New Orleans jazz cats (trumpeter Ashlin Parker, keysman Larry Sieberth), and a Lithuanian drummer who probably has an extra arm hidden somewhere (Augustas Baronas). Hollinger’s role is just playing bass here – he’s the ringmaster, the mad scientist, the guy with a soldering iron fusing all these crazy sounds together. He’s got more pedals than a Tour de France cyclist and an ear for picking collaborators that’d make a talent scout weep.
Track-by-Track:
- “Fly”
This opener sets the mood with some serious movie soundtrack vibes. Hollinger lays down these sneaky bass lines under icy strings from the Alegria Quartet. Ashton Sellars’ guitar shimmers away, and it all builds up to this massive climax that would make Explosions in the Sky proud. But don’t zone out – Baronas keeps you on edge with drums that feel like your heart racing during a bad dream. - “Through the Darkness of Future Past, No More Dark, Through”
Strap in, ’cause this is the album’s wild ride. Teis Semey’s guitar and Yaniv Nachum’s soprano sax duke it out in this creepy take on “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” The melody goes from sweet to sinister real quick. Matthias van den Brande sprinkles in some glockenspiel that sounds like stepping on broken glass. One minute you’re in a smoky jazz club, the next it’s total mayhem. It’s like Black Midi crashed the set of a David Lynch film – the band’s teetering on the edge, and it’s glorious. - “I Just Don’t Know”
Hollinger’s bass is all fuzzy and mean, while Baronas’ drums are going absolutely bonkers – picture an octopus on speed behind the kit. Sebastian Gampert’s synths are squealing and screaming in the background. If you’ve ever had a panic attack in a funhouse, this is what it would sound like. - “Winter Melody”
Think you’re in for some chill-out time? Think again. Larry Sieberth tickles the ivories with a smoky touch, and Ashlin Parker’s trumpet whispers sweet nothings, but don’t let that fool you. Hollinger’s bass is a powder keg waiting to blow. Louis Portal (pinch-hitting for Baronas on drums) keeps you in a trance, building up to something that screams Radiohead’s “In Rainbows” era more than your grandpa’s jazz club. It’s like watching a volcano about to erupt, but in slow motion. - “Sleeping Tapes”
Closing out with Keefus Ciancia’s “Introduction to Sleeptapes” is like stepping into a David Lynch flick. Sellars’ guitar buzzes like that AC unit that’s been driving you nuts all summer. Creepy voices telling you to “wake up” and “fall asleep” float around your head. Hollinger’s bass pulses underneath while Oliver Emmitt’s trombone growls like a beast under your bed. It’s the musical equivalent of lying awake at 3 AM, watching your ceiling fan spin and wondering if you’ve finally lost it.
Hollinger’s genius lies in picking his partners in crime. Each musician adds their own flavor of weird to the album’s surreal DNA:
- Ashton Sellars (guitar, Tracks 1/5): Lays down dreamy post-rock or ear-splitting noise rock without breaking a sweat.
- Teis Semey (guitar, Tracks 2/3): A chaos agent, a bull in a china shop, but the china shop is made of time signatures.
- Augustas Baronas (drums): If a drum machine could get angry, it’d sound like this guy. His work on “I Just Don’t Know” is pure wizardry.
- Ashlin Parker (trumpet): Brings that New Orleans flavour to “Winter Melody,” sounding like he’s nursing a broken heart at 2 AM.
- Sebastian Gampert (keys/synths): The unsung MVP, painting everything from chill vibes to end-of-the-world chaos with his keys.
and all the lovely SAT voice contributors and orchestral instrumentalists working behind the scenes.
Recorded across studios in Berlin and beyond, 1987 thrives on contrasts. Tracks 1 and 5 (mixed by Shai Salon) balance clarity with grit, while Fulvio Federico Farina’s mix on “Winter Melody” feels like a smoke-filled basement club. The cover art—Hubert P. Klotzeck’s “Narrenfeuer”—mirrors the music: dark, cryptic, and weirdly inviting.
1987 isn’t an easy listen—and thank God for that. Hollinger’s refusal to stick to one genre, let alone one mood, makes this a record that demands (and rewards) full immersion. It’s jazz for noise freaks, post-rock for prog snobs, and a “get out!” to anyone who thinks bassists can’t lead. By channelling Lynch’s love of ambiguity and Twin Peaks’ surreal menace, Hollinger has crafted a debut that’s as challenging as it is thrilling. Play it loud, play it late, and let your subconscious do the rest.
Bernhard Hollinger’s 1987’s dropped since April 25, 2025, on Boomslang Records. Streaming available now—sleeping pills not included.