| |
Review: |
|
German legend Dieter Moebius returns with almost an hour's worth of new material. Strangely, considering that he was at his peak in the seventies, this often has an altogether more eighties feel to it, although this could just be down to the fact that 1970s German music proved so influential on the following decade. Whichever, fans of electronic music could do worse than check this out.
The opening track, called appropriately enough Start, takes a minute or so to get going, opening like an electronic equivalent of a band warming up. Then some almost Keith Emerson-like organ takes over and tries to restore order, and things get all funky in a slightly left field, electronic kind of way. Whereas Start goes off in an unexpected direction, the relentlessly percussive Komit is one of those tracks where you think you know what is going to happen next. And you sort of do, just not as soon as you expect, which really builds up the sense of anticipation. This won't be the last time they come to mind, but there's a bit of a Kraftwerk feel to this number, although seeing as they and Moebius emerged at similar times in the same country, I guess that should come as no surprise. Whatever, it's a cracking tack. Moebius is on a roll here because the wobbly electronic Womit is another goodie whilst the Radio Activity-era Kraftwerk Dauert is probably the highlight of the album.
Certainly Kram peaks at this point for me as the album starts to veer off into an altogether more ominous direction. Steigert is relentless in an almost nightmarish way and this is one number that you definitely have to be in the mood for, otherwise you'll start to feel like you're going mad. Lauert is somewhat less sinister, but the way it rattles away under those deep synth notes is still border-line disturbing. Rennit has some bass notes pounding away for some seven minutes whilst Rast is basically Rennit Part Two, albeit with more fiddly bits. Imagine a race scene in Chariots Of Fire if all the runners are dangerous and depraved and you won't be far off the mark. Swhitzt opens with a didgeridoo effect and could easily be a soundtrack for when the giant is sleeping in an alternative, scary movie take on Jack And The Beanstalk. Kram closes with the creepily percussive Markt which sounds like feeding time in some dark cave you really don't want to venture into. It's scary stuff!
Still, whilst even the more difficult moments on Kram repay repeated listens to some degree, it's undoubtedly the first four numbers here that I'm going to keep going back to.
|
|
