The ‘Otherness’ Of Kraftwerk

Behind a curtain bathed in a blood-red glow, the four silhouetted figures of Kraftwerk are standing motionless and stock-still behind a minimal keyboard/laptop set-up. They crank up ‘Man Machine’. As some clinical percussive beats are added to the equally clinical electronic melody, the curtain parts a little awkwardly to reveal the four members at their ‘workstations’, eyes down on their screens, each moving their mouse as if updating an excel spreadsheet or checking an email. There’s no wave or acknowledgement to the audience. They don’t look up from their screens. As intros go, it can’t really be topped and only serves to perpetuate the mythical status that surrounds this utterly unique band. Even at this gig in the grounds of Kilmainham Royal Hospital, Dublin – without founding member Florian Schneider and despite a malfunctioning curtain that threatens to damage the Kraftwerk enigma – they still leave you stunned by the power of their pristine, revolutionary electronic music.

Why does this type of introduction, and their continued refusal throughout the gig to engage with the audience,  work so well? How come it never feels contrived or forced or pretentious? Because there is a genuine mystique to the band, an ‘otherness’ that has been there since Kraftwerk’s core members Ralf Hutter and Florian Schneider created this completely new type of music all those years ago in Dusseldorf. A band this enigmatic don’t simply stroll on stage. They are revealed. The paradigm of what ‘live performance’ is supposed to be shifts dramatically for Kraftwerk and that is why seeing them live is such a thrilling, memorable experience. 

This sort of performance has drawn derision from some quarters. Why pay eighty euro to watch four Germans tapping on their laptops? You pay eighty euro because it’s Kraftwerk, they invented modern electronic and dance music and they can do whatever they want. The minimalist set-up, the vocoderised vocals, the ever-changing Expressionistic visuals,  the songs about cycling and German motorways and pocket calculators, the wry, understated, self-mocking humour is all part of the Kraftwerk concept. Whether the music is live or pre-programmed is unimportant. Again this is Kraftwerk and the rules don’t apply anymore. It’s about the concept, the idea of four expressionless men behind their Sony Vaios playing music that influenced everything that came after. Four Germans who were replaced by robots for, erm, ‘The Robots’. It’s about the communal experience of hearing this extraordinary music – that still sounds so vital and new, as if they wrote this music yesterday, even though much of it was written three decades ago – with thousands of other people.  It helps too that EVERY song aired tonight is a small masterpiece that has stood the test of time, especially ‘Radioactivity’, ‘Neon Lights’, ‘The Model’.

Bono said Kraftwerk are a ‘great soul band’. People mocked him, of course. Kraftwerk? Soul Band? But he was actually spot on. Despite the ostensibly ’soulless’ nature of the music, tear away a few layers and each song has something to say about the complexities of the human condition. It’s the paradox that lies at the heart of Kraftwerk: it’s easy to think of Kraftwerk’s music as cold, robotic and loveless because of the way it is delivered but it is actually full of soul, humour and hidden meaning. Think of ‘The Model’ as a song about unattainable women and unrequited love. ‘Neon Lights’ about loneliness in the big city. ‘Pocket Calculator’ as a sly, humourous admission of their own obsession with machines and electronics. Therein lies the genius of Kraftwerk. These robots have beating hearts too.

 

Kraftwerk, Dublin, 13.09.2008.

 

 

Together In Electric Dreams

Every Irish-based music blog and webzine has been singing the praises of the Electric Picnic since it ended late last Sunday night. The general consensus is that this year was the year that, despite a weak line-up musically, the festival came of age. It’s also the year it repositioned itself as a ‘Music And Arts’ Festival, a deliberate strategy to distance itself from other music festivals, especially MCD’s Oxegen, and to give it a distinct identity of its own. It’s a smart move but I hope the music will always remain the most important part of the festival’s remit. Comedy, spoken word, theatre, even the bloody cooking stage are fine, and nice diversions when you want to take a  break from the music, but they should always remain that: diversions. For me, the Electric Picnic will always be about the music and, despite a handful of big-name acts such as Sigur Ros, My Bloody Valentine and the Sex Pistols, they really need to improve the line-up for next year. Yet, it was still a brilliant and highly memorable weekend with little or no trouble and very little to complain about. Ok, the bars shutting down at 10 pm was a bit ridiculous. And the Body & Soul Area was too overcrowded. And everything is ludicrously expensive. And Franz Ferdinand were terrible. But apart from that, it was an amazing three days. 

Anyway here is my top eleven best bits from the festival:

1.My Bloody Valentine on Sunday night. Not as loud as when I saw them in London but still a mind-blowing exercise in audience annihilation. Brilliant. Brilliant. Brilliant.

2. Sigur Ros. I had reservations that such a musically introspective band could cut it as a headline act on an outdoor stage. How wrong I was. Life-affirming and beautiful.

3. Goldfrapp. Alison’s voice is the eight wonder of the world.

4. Henry Rollins’ spoken word performance. Charming, engaging and funny.

5. Getting The Clash’s Mick Jones’ autograph. An absolute gent.

6. The sunshine on Sunday. How the fuck did that happen? 

7. Wilco. One hour of musical brilliance that was over too soon. An extraordinary band.

8. The amazingly chilled-out, friendly and benign vibe. The way complete strangers talk to you as if you’ve known them all your life. The beautiful women, Irish women, everywhere. As Mr.Morrison might say: wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time?

9. Crystal Castles. Spare, brutalist-electro with an amazing frontwoman in Alice Glass, who doesn’t sing but instead emits a strange, guttural scream that will haunt you for days. Amazing.

10. Sex Pistols. Derided by almost everyone, and an unpopular choice to close the weekend, but I found it fascinating to see a band that changed the course of rock music in the flesh banging out ‘Anarchy In The UK’ and ‘Pretty Vacant’ and ‘Bodies’ in a field in County Laois. Johnny Rotten remains one of the most compelling and provocative frontmen of all time and he was his usual, sarcastic self on Sunday night.

11. The Leviathan Political Debates. Great fun.