Author:David Buckley
Back in the days before Twitter allowed us to find out what they were having for breakfast, pop stars could be quite mysterious and there was no act quite as mysterious as Kraftwerk. After they released their albums, they would invariably carry out a perfunctory bit of promotional work (usually, if memory serves, on the TV science show ‘Tomorrow’s World’) and maybe do the odd concert, after which they would retreat to their studios in Dusseldorf (the splendidly named Kling Klang) to start work on their next project, or maybe that should be projekt. When I say they ‘started work’, that would have been a guess. In those days, we had no idea what those mysterious Germans got up to. Years would pass; pop fashions and prime-ministers would come and go, but Kratfwerk wouldn’t even answer the phone. What were they working on? New music? Testing new synthesisers? Building robots? Constructing a time machine? Or perhaps a combination of all of the above? It turns out, according to David Buckley’s biography, that they were quite often goofing around with gizmos, enjoying coffee and pastries or indulging in that most rock and roll of pastimes, cycling. Their imperial phase came in the mid-to-late seventies, with the albums ‘Radio-Activity’, ‘Trans-Europe Express’ and ‘The Man Machine’, with the latter -for my money- representing their finest work; the composition, structure and pacing on that album is flawless, a perfect realisation of their artistic vision. I love Kraftwerk’s warm analogue sounds and insistent rhythms, but my affection for their music is also informed by memories of a time when they didn’t just ‘represent’ something new; they were something new.
In the 21st century, electronica has become the lingua franca of pop, but in the seventies, Kraftwerk were revolutionary, not in the sense of having anticipated or embraced the latest fashion or sounds, but in the sense of having invented a new way of making music, of having forged a new language for pop. That might be something that only a middle-aged person would say and, to be honest, I am not unsympathetic to Buckley’s ‘dad watching Top of the Pops’ view that pop and rock appears to have evolved into a self-referential ‘curator’ culture, wherein pretty much everything we hear now is ‘a bit 60s’ or ‘a bit folky’ or maybe ‘a bit RnB’ or ‘a bit 80s’. The author points out (correctly, in my view) that, by the time they had released ‘Computer World’ in 1981, the world had caught up with Kraftwerk. For the first time, they sounded contemporary, part of the pop landscape, where –just a few years earlier- they had sounded like they had arrived from the future. In the 1980s, their output declined to the point where to have described it as ‘sluggish’ would have been a generous exaggeration. The two main creative forces, Ralf Hutter and Florian Scheider, were happy living off the royalty cheques from the likes of ‘Autobahn’ and ‘The Model’ and were so into their cycling that the other two members, Karl Bartos and Wolgang Flur, had to find other ways to pay the bills.
Buckley offers some good background material on the German cultural milieu of the late 60s and early 70s, but the book leans rather too heavily on interviews with musicians who have been influenced by the band. The author also reveals a bit too much about his own political views, which I’d wager are of no real interest to most readers. As one might expect, Ralf and Florian only appear in snippets from old interviews. Even in the age of social media, there exists an information black hole out of which very little emerges about these men; we know as little about them as we did thirty five years ago. Karl Bartos makes a modest contribution, but I suspect that he is keeping his powder dry for a book of his own. This might not be the definitive tome on Kraftwerk, but if you’re a fan of the band it’s a pretty good read. If you’re waiting for a comprehensive warts-and-all guide to the life and work of this fascinating combo, I’d advise you not to hold your breath.
Length of Read:Medium
Might appeal to people who enjoyed…
The book is probably strongest when it is exploring the cultural milieu from which Kraftwerk emerged.
One thing you’ve learned
In the 1980s, those Kraftwerk lads were into cycling in a big way. No wonder their musical output dwindled.
Excellent piece. Have you read the Pascal Bussy book? If so, is it an improvement on that?
The impression I got is that they lost their nerve in the 80s, specifically over the (non-)release of Techno Pop in 1983. The story goes that they heard Billie Jean in a club and it made them feel that the album that they’d recorded was dated in comparison. After ten years of being ahead of the game it must have felt a bit demoralising. Cycling became the ultimate displacement activity, a bit like fannying around on The Afterword when you ought to be working (ahem).
I’d be interested to know what Buckley has to say about the fact that K must be one of the only major pop/rock acts to have actively suppressed a huge chunk of their early output (ie everything before Autobahn). They’ve owned the rights since 1981 but none of that stuff – four albums – has been officially reissued. It’s a hell of an anomaly for a band whose activities since the debacle of Techno Pop/Electric Cafe have mostly centred around curating their Katalog.
Nice review, Raymond. In fact, it’s so good, I don’t need to buy the book!
Can I please defend later Werk? Computer World is a really progressive, lovely warm sound. A step up from the previous albums. It even includes their most romantic piece, Computer Love of course, and also has its comedy moments, notably Pocket Calculator (the little trill after “by pressing down a special key/it plays a little melody” always makes me smile). Some of their best songs are on Electric Café (Techno Pop & Musik Non-Stop are very well written). It suffers from the ‘digital’ equipment they used for the first time. Tour De France Soundtracks is much better than most people think and not much to do with cycling. I love the huge-sounding vocoder, especially when it gets guttural. The precision of the percussion is jaw-dropping, just check out Chrono. And, has anyone heard Krafwerk sound as miserable as on Vitamin. Best of all, though, is The Mix. If you don’t own any K, this is the one. It is much more than a greatest hits. The transformed versions of Radioactivity and Music Non-Stop are phenomenal. Finally, please point me in the direction of a better live album than Minimum Maximum?
Kraftwerk – Music Non-Stop from The Mix
I’ve a lot of affection for EC, mainly because it was the only time I’d had the experience of a new K album coming out. I got into them not long after CW and had been waiting for them to come back for the thick end of five years. I was very young so this was for ever. Stone Roses fans don’t know they’re born.
The 2009 remix of the first side is particularly satisfying, but it’s still clearly not in the same league as the 1974-1975 albums.
I mean 1974-1981, obv.
Hah! “So good I don’t need to buy the book” – I was just thinking the same myself. (And when I think of all the wedge I wazzed on mags down the years whose reviews weren’t 1/10th as well written or as useful as that).
WRT The Mix, I think it’s best viewed as a bonus for the ‘Werk-starved. I love the “disco” version of Radioactivity, but I wouldn’t have it instead of the more ominous tempo of the original…
Wow! Italics! How?
I was suggesting The Mix as merely a place to start.
Same as the old place Tiggster , with a small “i” between the brackets, your word of choice sans gap, then with another small “i” after the /. (I was just trying it out there myself).
The thing about us Irish is whenever we’re asked for directions we always begin “well, I wouldn’t start from here“. I wonder how I have a record collection at all…
Thank you!
Thanks for the kind comments, people. I share your opinion about those mid-80s digital sounds, Tigger, but I can’t share your enthusiasm for The Mix (I particularly dislike that remix of The Robots). As for Moose’s question about Buckley’s view on the neglect of their early work, he states at one point that the first two albums ‘could have been made by many young German musicians with the right technology at the time’. He is very keen, though, on the ‘Ralf and Florian’ album.
The overwhelming feeling is that there is not much love for that early work.
Everything is a matter of taste, Raymond. However, The Mix’s Robots are lighter, more nimble and a lot more cheerful. Bear in mind, The Mix is meant to make Kraftwerk more danceable.
Kraftwerk – The Robots from The Mix.
He’s got a point about the early stuff. The second side of Kraftwerk 2 could have been made by literally anyone, musicians or not. It’s just two blokes messing about with a tape machine.
Merde! The brackets didn’t survive that journey. I mean the pointy arrowhead/ bird beak ones (“”)
…and if you put a “b” instead of an “i” between the birds’ beaks it should still come out all BOLD!
Brilliant!
Thanks for the review, I’m read another couple of biogs and it looks like the well has pretty much run dry unless Ralf or Florian contribute to an ‘authorised’ biog.
Agree with you Moose, between 81 and 83 the world caught up with Kraftwerk and they’ve never really had a response
Compare the effortlessly funky delayed bass break on the original Robots with the housed up Mix version. Considering what else was being released in 91 (i.e. Screamadelica, Orbital Green Album, The Orb, Future Sound of London, The Orb etc) they sound laughably out of touch.
I see I’m a lone voice. Well, if the world can’t come round to my way of thinking, I’ll have to drop the big one!
Now, tell me that isn’t simply fantastic.