Kraftwerk Overview

Kraftwerk's reclusiveness is notorious. They've turned down all offers to work with big names-- not David Bowie, not Elton John, nor Michael Jackson neither. They've never re-mixed the work of another artist. They hold the reins over production tightly, to the... [more]

Kraftwerk's reclusiveness is notorious. They've turned down all offers to work with big names-- not David Bowie, not Elton John, nor Michael Jackson neither. They've never re-mixed the work of another artist. They hold the reins over production tightly, to the point of self-management. They haven't even released a new album since 1986. But despite this miserliness, which has led to the loss of band members and of commercial success, Kraftwerk is legendary. The "limited edition" theory may be at work here, the less-is-more approach to determining artistic value. Or it may simply be that techno, hip-hop, ambient -- really, all of contemporary electronica -- owe their existence in part to these musicians famous for their robot sounds. The core of the group is Ralf Hutter and Florian Schneider, who met in the late '60s while studying classical music at the Dusseldorf Conservatory. With their impeccably manicured looks onstage and off, they resembled accountants more than club kids. And in fact, though their innovations later spawned revolutions on the dance floor, they themselves remained closer to Germany's musical avant-garde. They called themselves a "non-acoustic electronic loudspeaker orchestra." And the concept behind the term was startling: that electronic noise could be used not to mimic other kinds of music but as an end in itself. Early works like "Kraftwerk 1" (1971) and "Autobahn" (1974) are spartan and mechanistic, but still release a synth-pop flavor. The 22-minute title track to "Autobahn" established the duo's hi-tech reputation, its insistent electro-rhythms and trance sounds hypnotizing audiences worldwide. Kraftwerk's later and most popular works, "Trans-Europe Express" (1977) and "Computer World" (1981), are a cross between nature and machine. No: they're much, much more. The refined knit of classical music couples playfully with loose pop melodies. Driving rhythms call up indigenous dancers beating their path around a huge bonfire. A fluid melding of tones invites the brain to let go and floats us far away. Kraftwerk pulls notes apart like they were taffy, stretching them full of air. And just when we think we've got a handle on the rhythm, the tune slides toward some new stratosphere we didn't know existed. The revolutionary group has been laying low for the past decade. Perhaps they're preparing our next slippery ride into space. [show less]