Why does it take 65 year old Dieter Moebius (ex-Kluster/Cluster and Harmonia) to produce a proper soundtrack to our collective futures? I mean, what are the bloody kids up to? It’s all very well them shooting hordes of robots dwarves on their I-Boxes, but shouldn’t they be connecting piles of analogue electronics together and providing us with a soundscape for what is yet to come?
As my vision of the future involves more than just a smattering of retro-futurism, and thus includes jet-packs and hover-cars, perhaps it’s a little unfair to criticise the kids in this way. Having said that, surely we all share a vision of the future that involves jet-packs? Hover-cars I’m not right bothered about, but there must and will be jet-packs – that much we must agree on. Right?
Ok, let’s put the jet-pack issue aside for a moment and get to grips with Kram. In short, this is retro-futuristic analogics at its finest. All sorts of machines warmly throb and pulse. On ‘Schwizt’ and ‘Markt’ technologies are caressed with emotion until they verge on sentience. These washes of tenderness are replaced on ‘Lauert’ by slashed shards of sound that put you on edge and sharpen the senses. On the wonderful ‘Womit’ a soundtrack of the future city at night is envisioned, where only those machines essential to its 24 hour maintenance are left to pulse.
The standout tracks are the twinned ‘Rennt’ and ‘Rast’ – with ‘Rast’ distinguished only by the sense that the tech that seems so in harmony on ‘Rennt’ might break down, splutter out of power or develop into something more sinister. Plus they’re ripe for an Orbital remix – simply add a few breaks and you’ve got the bonus tracks for Snivilisation.
By what means of transport do you get down here to buy it? You know the answer to that…