Würm

Efzeg was one of many outfits born of a thriving scene of Viennese musicians, dedicated, in their varying ways, to a kind of understated improvisation that merged acoustic and electronic, analog and digital, in often surprising juxtapositions. On their third album, Würm, Efzeg give an object lesson in such music: developing slowly, with scurrying minor details clattering across a scrum of drones, sine tones and glitchy rumble, it’s evocative stuff, and surprisingly compelling, given that it could, easily, lapse into sameness. Instead, the five members of Efzeg prove themselves endlessly curious, and not averse to moments of unchecked beauty – see the pensive acoustic guitar that meanders across “Riss,” or the gorgeous tessellations of the closing title track.