As conceptually heavy and full of emotional depth as this collection of music is — the music is accompanied by a short poem that was allegedly set to the songs afterwards — there are elements of humour dotting the soundscape. Graham Lambkin is a former member of the Shadow Ring, a group that turned post-punk on its head and chuckled at it with a dry English wit. His is an oeuvre that doesn't differentiate between musical and non-musical sound; frequently working in the duo format — his trilogy of albums with Jason Lescalleet is particularly noteworthy — he finds joy in the mundane, often recording random events around his own house for use in future projects. Michael Pisaro, on the other hand, is a member of the notoriously quiet Wandelweiser Group, a collective of composers and performers that seek to integrate the notion of silence and sparseness into their work.
It's tempting to point to the light-hearted moments of Schwarze Riesenfalter and immediately think of Lambkin (the buzzing cellphone, the almost drone-like drawn-out voice passages) and similarly attribute the musical piano lines to Pisaro. The reality is most likely not even close to such a conclusion, as the separation between the two contributors is lost in the wake of a happy synergy. It's of no consequence, really, as the music itself obliterates the need to single out the individual personalities. Two men worked as one and unleashed a beast of an album for people to enjoy; enough said. (Erstwhile)