Wednesday 28 March 2012

12: Can - Tago Mago



The Kraken. Before I came to University, I decided I needed new records in my life so I went into Bristol and bought a few bits and pieces of Kraut and other things. I can vaguely recall Tago Mago being bought along with Mouse on Mars - Iaora Tahiti and maybe 94 Diskont? I can't remember listening to this the first time and I'm not sure what I really made of it. It's a beast and it's probably one of the best albums ever made but, for me, there are two big problems with it. It has, however, become one of those records that's stuck with me and one that always has something to say to me throughout various periods of my life.

Double albums are tricky though (outside of hip hop), and there aren't that many that can stand up to a back to back listen. Tago Mago's clever in that all the best bets are right there on the first disc. The second one is a bit more tricky, though apparently that was the intention. But this is the Can album were everything works in a glorious harmony. The experimental bits are experimental, the wig out bits wig out, and the nice bits are nice.

The first disc is perfection. The couplets of Paperhouse and Mushroom work beautifully together, the claustrophobia of the former leading to the dourness of the latter, the transition between them is marked with a huge ping sound. Damo's not annoying but is basically chanting the same thing over and over - it works though. It's one of those times that Can are so perfect that they go beyond annoyingly perfect into transcendentally perfect - like Shatner seeing God. Notes are placed not played: that they could not exist in any other form in any other way.

An explosion leads into Oh Yeah. I always thought that this explosion was where Tim Westwood got his explosion sound but clearly not. Oh Yeah is the essence of Can in 7 minutes. The song is reflective like Cibo Matto's Sugar Water video - in the first half Damo sings backwards, reversing round for the second half (alongside various cymbal crashes and suchlike). The drums are relentless, shifting but staying the same over the duration. Half way through it all comes to a halt, leaving the organ spinning in space before geting back to the start.

In the world of 20 minute Can songs Halleluhwah is the only that really works. There's a version of this on 45 which I covet but have never had the courage to pay the asking price. Again the drums shuffle and are relentless. Everything spins round and round the center - Damo recites the names of the songs that have preceded it (ha!). He also says something like "Salting for my problem, yes I am" but what that means I don't know. The key thing is it turns 20 minutes into 5 and never really gets boring but never stays static. Like a great funk song, it seems to go on and on forever whilst feeling quite brief. It is truly magical.

Then the come down: Aumgn and Peking O are uber experimental and suffer for it. Both are all noises without really going anywhere. They're not terrible and maybe the album without them would suffer (probably not though), but I find them hard going and easily forgettable. The latter goes into this plinky plonky electronic thing which is quite entertaining but it doesn't last long. They take up 30 minutes combined which is enough time to get your head together after the magnificence of Halleluhwah.

Then it's Bring me Coffee or Tea which is melancholy and reflective Can at it's best. Something about the bass and guitar sound they get is just stunning and it rounds off something close to a true masterpiece. Truly it's a joy to behold and if they could find someway of fitting the five tracks on a single LP it would be perfection. Everything about it from the orange head cover to the name, to the sounds are out of this world but clearly tied to it. Stunning.

Sunday 18 March 2012

11: Can - Soundtracks


Soundtracks was the second Can album but was made up of contributions to various film soundtracks and combines Mooney and Suzuki so it's not really an album as such but they got away with it. I bought this in about 96 - probably after Tago Mago and probably with a view to hearing Mother Sky. The CD booklet is sparse and just has some pictures of Can "in action" in the middle: One of them mucking about on the beach, chatting outside a country house, Damo wailing, and doing an art installation. Very nice.

Musically it's a bit of a mixed bag but you could probably replace the work mixed with "a bit shit" but then this is a comparative shitness - it's just a bit too varied and incoherent to be appreciated in any way apart from varied and incoherent.

For me, the opener (Deadlock) is pretty bad - all wailing guitars and moaning. Tango Whiskeyman works better but is something of a novelty piece with good drumming. The revisitation of Deadlock is frankly quite annoying and could have been left off. Then a couple of really good contrasting tracks. Don't Turn The Light On, Leave Me Alone is fantastic and subtle but I always think Mooney should have sung it - I imagine that's how he felt at the time. Then Soul Desert which Mooney does sing on but close your eyes and it could be Suzuki. The glory of Can is in full effect on both, and them being around the 3 minute mark it avoids the meandering problems that bother me about them sometimes. At their best they sound like they do on Soul Desert: Other worldly but with vague routes within things you know about. There's a story about a guy auditioning for a new Funk band and being asked to play the bassline from a James Brown track - most people would improvise around the simple structure but he just played it non stop for 30 minutes or so. That to me is the essence of Can, no fear over finding a riff and repeating it for a very long period of time.

Which brings us to Mother Sky, almost the corner stone of the record (see also the live version here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oyKKahQoDY where it emphasises the wig out element of the track to a largely bored audience). It is magnificent in every way, a 15 minute non-stop fury through the mind. It starts off as it means to go on with a heavy bass line and twinkly guitar. Then at about the 3 minute mark there's a huge crash and clink and it shifts to the drums and bass. One of the few times when aat 15 minutes it feels a little short. Cope writes in KRS how he imagined it was used really well in the film (Deep End). This reminds me of an interview with Quentin Tarantino who lamented the use of soundtracks in films - citing that he knew of Kung Fu films that used the theme from Shaft better than it was used in Shaft. Well, having watched Deep End this week, I can confirm that it is used in a largely incidental fashion. Stick it over the car chase in Bullit or something and you've got a chicken dinner. It all breaks down after about 7 minutes then gets back into it.

Then it ends with She Brings The Rain which is a bit throwaway, with not much to say for itself. It's a bit of a weird one - Mother Sky is so awesome that nothing else can quite match it's level and there's enough nonsense on the album that reinforces that. It would seem that on the original sleeve it says that Soundtracks is the second album but not album no. 2. That's a pretty incredible thing to write in the sleeve notes and leaves us all in fearful anticipation of the mighty record to come...

Sunday 11 March 2012

10: The Can - Monster Movie


"All has been forgotten and the plastic turns to rotten rays and smells". I find Can fairly problematic: clearly they are brilliant, musicians at the peak of their powers who gel together and create incredible music. But to me there are two Cans: The wig out ones, and the reflective ones and I think I much prefer the former over the latter. There's something a little too perfect about them sometimes - that the world in which they live is so dense and so difficult to pick apart. Like sometimes you need the flaws to grab onto.


But anyway - this is Monster Movie, their first official album. Originally released on a super small pressing, then picked up by United Artists and released under the name "The Can" rather than Can. The wig out tracks are outstanding, the reflective ones interesting but I don't know if I'd go any further than that.


Father Cannot Yell is pretty heavy, psychedelic and defining of the sound - the bass and guitar being particularly Can. Mooney is clearly on the edge of something but it's difficult to say what. Mary, Mary So Contrary is the nursery rhyme with added feedback and squeals - much too on the reflective side of things. Outside My Door is the standout one for me - Like a heavy psych tune but with full on treble and clarity. There's a clarity in the sound that plays against Mooney bawling that "Any Colour is Bad" - the harmonica roots them in the US sound that is cited as an influence. The crescendo is fierce and Mooney ends up screaming the title over and over. 


The final track is the krautrock standard side long affair. It weaves through the elements introduced over the past three tracks. Its great but never really goes anywhere incredible - like they don't yet have the stamina to travel over 20 minutes - essentially going nowhere of particular interest after the first 5 minutes or so. Mooney says the title over and over and they go off on a drum based odyssey.


I guess the length is a predictor of their strengths to come but, on the basis of Outside My Door, I can't believe I never picked this one up until now. Not sure it's my favourite Can album (by default that's Tago Mago, but with some caveats) but it's pretty awesome all told.

Sunday 4 March 2012

09: Ash Ra Tempel - Join Inn


Two things. First a confession - after moaning about seven up it finally arrived and you know what? It's not that bad. The "right-hand lover" parts still grate and my opinion that it's way better without the vocals than with still stand. But it's a good record and the cover art and story warrant further attention than I gave it.

Secondly to move to the ninth entry on the list - this is by far the best Ash Ra Tempel album on there. I don't recall buying it but my ever reliable database tells me that it was bought for me, presumably by my parents, for Christmas 1998. This would have been about the time of the Traummaschine radio show and so it figures that my Ash Ra Tempel detectors were firing all guns blazing at the time. The cover is pretty crappy - Hartmut, Manuel and Rosi sitting in a line, with a (presumably) laughing Klaus Schulze poorly drafted in at the bottom. Klaus also comes off badly on the back cover, appearing to do his best Les Dawson impression.

Like the first album this is a two track affair - in a similar mold too. The first is Freak 'n' Roll and actually gets close to being a heavy psychedelic freak out sort of affair. All noodly guitar and fairly urgent drumming. It does well to hold it together over the 20 minutes but does it well does.

The second side is similar to the Traummaschine - ambient with bass and bowed guitar. The thing that wins it is the pictured Rosi who (according to Cope) intones the story of the meeting of Cosmic Couriers and Timothy Leary. God knows if this is true as even if you could speak the language you can barely hear a word she says. Either way it succeeds and the synth additions work and everything swirls around being quite nice in general.

Anyway - thus endeth the Ash Ra Tempel-athon. If you were pushed I would say get this, Seven Up and then Schwingungen, then if you care get a copy of the first one. This is enjoyable but not really my cup of tea, but unfortunately we have to revisit this lot when we get the Cosmic Couriers section...