"Jagd auf den Hirsch," for example, has a muted guitar strumming semiquavers throughout that has both heightened senses, on the prowl for, perhaps, princes to rob (their name and several of their titles allude to the aforementioned arboreal capers too), and the tenseness of clopping into the unknown that's complemented by woodblocks vibrating with delay. The geteilter Raum remix, a loopier version, might fit into a cinematic disco set, depending on how adventurous you want to take things, but "Moogwalzer" certainly wouldn't, unless of course your aim is to make your audience feel completely doomed. The dark tympani and dreadful, ambient machinations are pinned down by pregnant throbbing, all as backdrop to incantations in German that sound like those near the beginning of Herzog's Fata Morgana.
Although not Desolat's usual sound, it makes more sense when you consider Loco Dice's assertion that there is always a personal story behind each release, with Der Rauber making their debut and each of their bands playing regularly at the Salon des Amateurs in Desolat's base, Dusseldorf. Guti, as might be expected, brings things more in line with their usual modus operandi by underpinning the brief cheerful stretch of the guitar line that (almost) blossoms near the end with a healthy four to the floor kick. It'll be the draw for many, whose first consideration on buying a slab of wax is whether it'll fit into their set, but, perhaps intentionally, the roughness—and the tracks from whence it came—might inspire them to broaden their spectrum.