Future Days - Can (1973 album) - review

A few years ago, I resolved to get into the music of Can, the legendary German avant-garde rock group. However, I may have made a mistake in commencing my Can journey by listening to their 1973 album Future Days.  I was left rather bemused and unimpressed, and it took a while for the Can "bug" to genuinely bite, once I had explored their more accessible material, such as that from Ege Bamyasi, and their 1971 magnum opus Tago Mago.

I suspect that Can are one of those bands who might take a while to impress themselves fully on some listeners, but when that invisible threshold is crossed, the wonders and infectiousness of their work are acutely felt. This was definitely the case with me, and Future Days suddenly made a lot more sense in that context.

With the exception of the punchy and relentless "Moonshake", this record is more ethereal and soothing in tone than either of the works which immediately preceded it. "Chill-out" music might be an appropriate phrase to describe the epic closer "Bel Air", certainly, although it does have its livelier and pugnacious moments.

The drumming of Jaki Leibezeit is less dominant in these tracks, based as they are on relaxing soundscapes, with more emphasis on melody, mood and texture than on rhythm. There is some stylistic and sensual continuity between the title track, "Spray" and the aforementioned "Bel Air".  I don't see "Moonshake" as a fly in the ointment;it serves a purpose in providing backbone.

With its habitually hypnotic and laid-back flavour, this LP doesn't jump out and grab you like some of their other work, and as my experience perhaps illustrates, it needs more work, concentration and patience.

My advice would be to listen to the two previous albums, and then this one will be more palatable and welcoming than otherwise might have been the case.  This record, in rounding off Can's classic early Seventies trilogy, as well as being the last one to feature vocalist Damo Suzuki, is a delight in its own right.  Just immerse yourself in the early passages of "Bel Air", and float away....

Ege Bamyasi - Can - album review

After releasing the epic double album Tago Mago in 1971, Can did something slightly different for their next release.  1972's Ege Bamyasi has a more direct and concentrated sound, although it is not as vast a departure from its predecessor as some might think.

In places the sound is more raw and minimalist, elsewhere the instruments are captured in a more "live" feel, especially the drums, which are such an integral feature of the Can world of the early 70s. Known for primarily being made up of shorter, more succinct songs, this album does in fact feature two lengthier compositions, more in keeping with the content of Tago Mago.  Also, many of the tracks are based on the same highly rhythmic foundation.

The "water" sound-effects at the beginning of "Sing Swan Song" are one of the highlights for me! The song itself is slyly hypnotic, and it is one of those Can numbers which only fully reveals its subtleties when listened to very closely and attentively.

It is reputed that this record, perhaps more than any other Can LP, was highly influential on subsequent generations of music, particularly the purveyors of post-punk, alternative and electronic music. This is something which becomes apparent a short way into the work.  Its directness, and what might be termed the deceptively melodic minimalism and sparseness of the arrangements. "One More Night" springs to mind in this regard. The likely effect of Ege Bamyasi on people over time is rather difficult to articulate, which perhaps only underlines its brilliance.

Possibly the best-known song on the album is "Vitamin C", a very infectious creation with hooks in abundance.  The chorus is sung with more vigour and "passion" than is often associated with Can's work of that era. Like much of the group's output, it largely defies conventional description, partly because there is very little with which to realistically compare it.....

The longest song on the set is "Soup".  The "introduction" section appears to presage the laid-back material which would characterize areas of Future Days, then it briefly threatens to resemble something approaching a conventional rock song, but reassurance arrives as it reverts to Can-type, the most experimental piece of work on the record, with heavy use of electronic effects.  The opener, "Pinch", is over nine minutes in duration, but is much less "out there" in nature.

Then back to more concise and compact territory to close out the record. "I'm So Green" is one of the many Can tracks to prompt the observation "it's incredible to think that this was recorded as long ago as (insert year)". Then again, it doesn't really sound like anything recorded in more recent times either. To use a cliche, a song which operates "out of time".

"Spoon" is another number which can be clearly seen to have inspired and enthused musicians of later years, that is the 80s and the 90s. The percussion feels more mechanical, and this song appears distantly related to the Manchester scene of the late 80s/early 90s, although this could be just a coincidence or an indirect link.

Ege Bamyasi does not, for me anyway, quite possess the capacity of Tago Mago to induce open-mouthed awe and wonder, but it is another captivating illustration of Can's singular genius and originality.

Tago Mago - Can - album review

Few, if any, artists can have created a run of albums of the consistent quality achieved by Can during the early Seventies. Perhaps the most striking and influential of those records was "Tago Mago", released in 1971 as a double album. I have seen it described by one or two critics as one of the greatest albums ever recorded, and to my ears this is no exaggeration of its merits.

Funnily enough, I did not really "get" the music of Can until comparatively recently.  They seem to be one of those acts whose charms take a while to impress themselves on the listener. Once my defences were breached, however, I found it impossible not to immerse myself in their work, especially that run of records from the period 1971 to 1973. The type of material which jolts one out of any musical inertia and complacency which may have amassed.

The astonishing thing about "Tago Mago" is that in 2015 it still sounds so fresh, pristine and "contemporary". Some of the music of that era which also falls under the umbrella of "experimental" has not aged anywhere as gracefully. This album, on the other hand, has an immediacy and a punch which are enduringly compulsive and enthralling, distinct in this respect even from the other ground-breaking music which was emerging from Germany at the same time.

Despite being categorized by many as avant-garde, the outward format of the Can group was very much that of a conventional rock group.  Vocalist, guitarist, bass player, keyboardist, drummer. The most immediately noticeable elements of their work, on this series of albums at least, are Jaki Liebezeit's astoundingly energetic drumming and the vocals of Damo Suzuki, who made his Can debut here. However, this should not make us overlook the contribution of the other instrumentalists, who were all integral elements in constituting the intoxicating Can sound during their best years.

Like so many great pieces of art, the draw and appeal of Can's best music is very difficult to encapsulate and convey in words. At their best, however, they were both rhythmic and blissfully melodic, often exhibiting these traits simultaneously. The terms "avant-garde" and "experimental" can serve to frighten off some people, but Can's music is ultimately as welcoming and comforting as any mainstream pop. Just cast off your blinkers and preconceptions at the door....

On such a uniformly strong record it is difficult to pick out highlights, but the track "Halleluhwah" is a particularly gripping and impressive creation, clocking in at over eighteen minutes, and for many representing the apogee of their journey. Liebezeit sounds like he has grown an extra set of limbs, the rhythm and tone are slightly more aggressive than elsewhere on the set, and the sheer length of the piece gives scope for diversions and more time for a mood and a groove to assert themselves. As elsewhere on "Tago Mago" the keyboards are not generally as prominent as one might imagine, but they are essential in engendering that peculiar ambience. This applies, if not as much, to the guitar work.

Having waxed lyrical about "Halleluhwah", it is fair to point out that the other numbers are almost all strong and interesting in their own right. Aside from "Halleluhwah", the other two more lengthy and "unconventional" pieces are "Aumgn" and "Peking O", the latter featuring some striking sound effects and vocal treatments. One gets the feeling that these two tracks more accurately embody the group's musical heritage than the more compact material. Can had the consummate knack of making such extended pieces seem accessible and benign, however.

Of the shorter items, the opener "Paperhouse" has a laid-back but insistent groove to begin with, before branching out, and it is something of a guitar showcase for Michael Karoli. It is followed by "Mushroom", which feels to me more austere and "minimalist".  One can easily see how this track and its character might have rubbed off on many musicians who emerged later.

"Oh Yeah" is an absolute delight and and an adventure, from the opening "explosion" sound effect, to the propulsive beat, to what sound like backwards vocals. As so often with Can, the rhythm is soothing rather than grating, and the keyboards and guitar both accentuate this flavour and lay textures of their own.

The closing song "Bring Me Coffee or Tea", at its outset at least, displays the mellower side of Can, and is an ideal way to bring us down to earth. There is even what sounds like acoustic guitar in there. More great drumming, if more delicate and understated.

I have not compared Can or their music to other artists, quite simply because there is nothing who they can safely be compared to, certainly among their contemporaries. It is unlikely that you will be open-mouthed with astonishment when first hearing them. More likely, you will eventually, after careful attention, find yourself muttering something like "my word, these guys were good".....

German Experimental, Progressive and Electronic Music

It is always satisfying, but also strangely troubling, when one’s resistance to a genre of music is overcome, and a whole new vista of exploration and enjoyment is opened up. Satisfying because in a funny way the fact that there was a reticence to embrace the music makes one savour it all the more, troubling because there is an acute sense of what one has been missing.  In recent times I have felt this way about German progressive, experimental and electronic music.

I always knew that it was there, and it seems unaccountable that I had not taken the plunge much earlier.  My tastes are quite eclectic, and some of my other musical interests should have logically and naturally led me there.  However, first impressions count, and in retrospect I think that I chose the wrong entry point.  I began my previous “exploration” by listening to the internationally well-known acts from the genre, such as Can and Faust. I did not “get” the German prog scene until I approached it from a different angle, that is via British prog acts such as Yes.  A journey which included Tangerine Dream led to the more psychedelic and “kosmische” bands such as Ash Ra Tempel and Popol Vuh, and their various offshoots, and the door was well and truly flung open…

This music also ties in with my interest in the German political scene of that period, which was quite turbulent.  It has often been commented that the recordings by a few of these artists was closely identified with the social and ideological tensions then making themselves felt.  That said, the messages in the songs are generally delivered with a deal more finesse and subtlety than those produced by purveyors of similar sounds in other parts of the globe.

Despite a reputation in some quarters for being gloomy, introspective and angst-ridden, I have found much of the music made by these bands to be wonderfully optimistic, life-affirming and infectiously joyful.

Much has been made of the extent to which the German musicians of the 1970s influenced future generations, particularly in Britain, and I feel that the concentration on this has almost obscured the merit of the music in its own right.  An appreciation of how a track was “ahead of its time” can detract from a grasp of the innate vitality of what was being performed.

One thing which is noticeable when looking at the fraternity is how quite close-knit it seems, with members of the pioneering groups often leaving for new and stimulating pastures.  And many of these solo projects and offshoot ventures added something genuinely new and vital, rather than just being curios or blind alleys.  Real adventure and ambition was much in evidence, taking the various sub-genres into exciting and uncharted territory.

For neophytes, my own advice would be to first sample the sounds of the more psychedelic and electronic-orientated exponents, with their ethereal and invigorating textures and soundscapes.  This should ensure that the more esoteric and challenging groups make more sense, and feel less discouraging and daunting. I can understand how the work of some of the latter can seem “hit and miss” at times.  When the dust has settled, you may well, like me, see Amon Duul II as an important group, with a sound both accessible and clearly ahead of its time in several respects.

One other impression which I gleaned from exploring the German music of the era in question is its relative lack of self-consciousness and pretentiousness.  A sincerity and spontaneity is present which one does not always find in similar musical movements elsewhere. Once they have taken the plunge, many people will find this world very comforting and inviting, and it is quite a diverse arena, with something there for almost everyone, if one remains open-minded.