hackedepicciotto - Keepsakes (LP)

Some records feel like a map of the life that made them. Keepsakes sits in that pocket. hackedepicciotto is Alexander Hacke of Einstürzende Neubauten and Danielle de Picciotto, an artist, author and co‑founder of Berlin’s Love Parade. They have been partners in life and art for years, hauling their instruments across borders and carving out a sound that folds drone, folk and industrial grit into something intimate. This album lands in 2024 on Mute, and it carries the weight of that shared history with a surprising tenderness.

The first thing that hits is the low end. Hacke’s bass and baritone guitar come in like a tide, steady and patient, leaving room for overtones to bloom. It is not showy. It is physical. On top of that, de Picciotto’s violin, hurdy gurdy and harmonium draw long, amber lines. Her voice, often half sung and half spoken, feels like a hand on your shoulder. The pair do a lot with a small toolkit. Cymbals shiver. A drum lands like a heartbeat. Little scraps of metal scrape and ring. It is the craft of two musicians who know how to let a room breathe.

There is a habit with their work to imagine ruined factories and shadowy tunnels, given Hacke’s Neubauten pedigree. Keepsakes does carry that iron and dust, but it also lets in light. Melodies rise up that feel almost devotional. Choral layers swell behind a line and then drop away. You can hear the hours spent in transit, waiting for a border to open, or a city to quieten, baked into the pacing. Nothing rushes. When a chord change arrives it feels earned.

What I love here is how the duo keep finding new colours in their palette. The hurdy gurdy is a character of its own, grinding and singing at once, and when it locks with the bass the effect is hypnotic. You could call it ritual music, though it never sounds like theatre. It feels lived in. De Picciotto has spoken in interviews over the years about the discipline of travel and the need to pare back, and that economy shows. The arrangements are lean, so every instrument has a job to do. A small bell is never just a bell. It marks time. It points to the next room.

The album’s title frames the listening well. These pieces feel like mementos, but not in a nostalgic way. More like a set of letters you write to stay in touch with people and places that shaped you. There is warmth in the harmonies that suggests kinship, even when the subject matter turns rough. Hacke’s voice sits low and sure, and when he leans into a chant, the grain is beautiful. He has a knack for choosing words that sit right in the pocket of the rhythm. De Picciotto counters with lines that carry the weight of someone who has seen scenes rise and fall and still believes in the quiet power of making things.

The production is roomy and detailed. You can almost feel the air moving around the mics. It suits vinyl, and if you are the kind of listener who likes to sink into a side without distraction, Keepsakes vinyl will reward you. Those bass drones like to live in the grooves, and the hushed harmonics on the strings sit sweetly on a turntable. If you have been hunting for hackedepicciotto vinyl, this is the one to put next to The Silver Threshold and The Current. It fills a space between them with more glow than gloom.

For anyone browsing a Melbourne record store, or scrolling through vinyl records Australia late at night, this is the sort of album that turns a casual look into a long listen. It is also a tidy way to introduce a friend to the duo. You can hear the industrial lineage, sure, but you also get folk heart and a cinematic sense of scale. The balance feels right. If you like to buy hackedepicciotto records online, keep an eye on stock, because their records have a habit of disappearing and then spiking on resale. Collectors already know that hackedepicciotto albums on vinyl tend to find their audience slowly, then all at once.

In a year crowded with loud statements, Keepsakes does something braver. It holds steady. It trusts patience. It keeps the door open for reflection without turning soft. Put it on late, let the room go quiet, and you will hear two artists who have carried their tools across decades and made something that honours the journey.