Triplets, whether in straight 6/8 time or heavily swung schaffel grooves, have always played an important role in the Speicher catalog, and "Loreley" makes great use of them, stabbing at bright pipe organ chords over a grueling bassline and a Spartan kick/clap beat. The chords are marched up and down the scale like some Schlager version of Colin Nancarrow, muted by filters and then unleashed in an explosion of overtones; in the breakdown, they're cleverly manipulated to give the impression of slowing down, even when the beat keeps marching forward.
"Silberpfeil" falls in line with Kompakt's unabashed fondness for trance, with pizzicato-like pads and synthetic clarinets rising and falling across a long, melancholic melody—drifting, presumably, on the heat waves generated by all those lighters in the air. In other words, it's a Speicher EP through and through. The most surprising thing might be that, despite the name, Kölsch isn't a local: it's the surname of the Danish artist Rune Riley Kölsch. Call it fate, then, that he would carry on the Cologne tradition of sweeping, Baroque techno.