KLUSTER

An important milestone, just like Tangerine Dream's "Electronic Meditation" released in the same year.

A Krautrock giant KLUSTER's debut creation "Klopfzeichen" released in 1970, or the sunrise period of the progressive rock scene, would have been approved with surprise and wonder, I suggest. Being flooded with lots of crazy repetitions by electronic noises / sounds, the story goes forward in a simple and monotonous manner. The female voices in German (forgive me I'm not able to understand at all though) are chilly and spicy beyond the electronic medications. In those days nobody could produce such an inorganic monotony fully by utilizing electronic equipment. And it's amazing their inorganic electro-chemistry should be enough unified and matured all over the entire album. If we listen to a part of this album, it might sound simply noisy and meaningless. However, when each article of this opus is combined and blended with another one, the structure will be pretty energetic and magnificent. For example, flute-like sound material in "Kluster 1" might sound improvised and randomized, but this sharp-edged noisy texture could get incredible and tremendous as one of electronic elements launched by the trio. In "Kluster 2" hallucinogenic weirdness or unexpected eccentricity is dominant too but just like very old rare beverages their production will release complicated condensed flavour all around.

Let me say outsiders cannot realize the importance of this album, can they?

Kluster were, at least for their original run, Conrad Schnitzler on the rebound from Tangerine plus Moebius and Roedelius. Eruption captures some live improvisations from the trio performed as part of their final gig together. Schnitzler has reassembled new Kluster lineups since, but in these revivals he has been the only old hand to return.

Since the recordings were captured by Klaus Freudigmann of Schnitzler's subsequent group Eruption, it was inadvertently mislabelled as a Kluster-Eruption collaboration, though it wasn't intended to be one. This is useful context to bear in mind when listening: creatively, the parties involved here are right on the verge of parting ways, with Moebius and Roedelius dropping that harsh K for a gentler C and becoming the Cluster who would be so important on the electronic krautrock scene later on.

The shift in name is apt, because the subtlety and softer edges of Cluster's work are more or less absent here... as, indeed, is much in the way of a cohesive creative agenda. Perhaps precisely because of the differences that would prompt them to part ways, Kluster produce material here which doesn't quite hold the attention, and when you combine that with rather shaky recording quality you have a release which is of interest more to Krautrock historians than for those who are primarily after something rewarding to listen to in its own right.

This studio album features mainstay 'Schnitzler' without regular bandmates 'Moebius and Roedelius' who appear to have have left in a huff literally weeks before this recording session. So much happened with 'Kluster' in '71 that it's difficult to follow any sequence of events. The passage of time hasn't helped matters either. It becomes ever murkier and darker.

Very little information regarding the two new interlopers 'Freudigman and Seidel' is at hand. They appear out of nowhere and suddenly vanish in a puff of smoke after this release. It's all very confusing...

'Admira' was originally released on the 'Qbico' label under the moniker 'Eruption' replete with spooky front cover displaying a silhouette of Schnitzler on a pair of stilts in a wet, grey German industrial complex.

'Admira' is a jarring, ugly album which reminds me quite a lot of the work of David Jackman's 'Organum' from the mid 80's with it's screeching acoustic strings, elongated phrases and downright tuneless, intimidating wanderings.

This certainly won't appeal to many Prog Archive followers. The ice cold echoes of acoustic instruments sound like they're dragged slowly across 10 foot long cello strings. It's all very menacing and dark, but surprisingly at times sounds similar to the more noisy parts of 'Floyd's' Saucerful of Secrets'.

Some violent 'scream' singing appears above the caterwauling din late on which will have most listeners pulling their bed sheets up over their noses as toes tremble.

Despite the limited technology and recording techniques available in '71 I have to say that it stands up pretty well in 2015 and sounds relevant in the electro-acoustic genre even today.

Certainly ahead of its time, 'Admira' has many similarities in its latter stages with English experimentalists 'Zoviet France' with phased, damaged and undefined acoustic strings played out over an unreleased horror soundtrack.

This is more of historical value than of any great earth shattering new find. I'm just pleased it was finally released after lying hidden in an 'Evil Dead' crypt for 37 years.

The second side of "An Electric Storm" and sides three and most of four of "Tago Mago" are all proto-industrial, but Kluster had to be the first project to wish to make music that actually sounded like machines. Holed up in a church, free to enlist the help of choir singers, they threw down three albums in a short amount of time, and then lost Conrad Schnitzler and so renamed themselves Cluster and balanced more down to earth electronics with more usual krautrock. But the damage was done and four years later we had two groups of punks calling themselves Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire who seemingly wanted to make music specifically to make girls run in terror. So as an industrial person as much as a proghead I owe just about everything to these three crazed geniuses and their lovely, word twisting singer. And "Klopfzeichen" stands as an excellent album in its own right, and stands the test of time as well. There isn't too much to the music, with it being carefully constructed loops of dour, gloomy, at times mechanical electronic soundscapes that aren't the most lively. But it still works, creating something between dark ambient and "After Cease To Exist" a whole six years before the latter and a whole eleven before an example of the former were themselves put to wax. And it was groundbreaking. Especially in light of its year of creation: Kraftwerk were still doing krautrock at this point; electronic music in general was still in its infancy. On top of that Runge's singing adds a strange and eerie quality to the record, especially early on as the band multi-tracks her on top of herself several times over. And as previously mentioned, her lyrics are heavy on some juicy wordplay. This isn't so much a milestone of prog or even of non-industrial electronica, but it is a lost classic and a major foundation for a whole other genre. Industrial people need to listen to this to get in touch with their roots; prog electronic fans need to listen to this to get a whole new experience under their belt.

Immeasurable sounds

Comprised of Conrad Schnitzler and the soon to be Cluster duo of Dieter Moebius and Hans Joachim Roedelius, Kluster is today seen as one of the pivotal names of the early experimental electronic scene. A far cry from the later velvety shadings of the Berlin school, their debut album Klopfzeichen offers up a grim industrial palette of ominous metallic music.

Schnitzler and Roedelius originally met in the underground scene of Düsseldorf, where all kinds of experiments took place. It started out at the Zodiac Free Arts commune that sported equal measures of psychedelic music, free jazz and avantguarde trickery. This was way back in 1968, and it shows us that Krautrock, as we today know it, developed over a long period of time. It was through new ideas of how to live, express oneself and communicate with each other that eventually metamorphosed into the outspoken musical freedom, that I personally have come to love so dearly.

Klopfzeichen came into being around the same time that Tangerine Dream's Electronic Meditation was made. Most places on the internet state that it came out in 1970, but Kluster's debut was in fact made a whole year earlier. Schnitzler played on both of these legendary albums, and while he never was ring leader of either band, you can certainly hear distinct similarities between the both. For starters, the production of these albums makes me think of an old abandoned factory hall surrounded by big piles of rubble and discarded rusty bicycle corpses. Raw and unfiltered like an iron smoothie with jaggedy nails and swinging hammers.

Born out of improvisation, Klopfzeichen balances a tightrope of brooding stretched out surfaces and experimental sways of music that literally flickers about in your living room, whenever you decide to take the plunge and let yourself emerge in the darkness.

Ominous piano clinkering, buzzing whirlwind effects, tick tocking metal sounds and unsettling soundscapes that'll have your eyelids twitching, this album is anything but a soothing relaxing electronic excursion. If anything, it offered up the blueprint behind the industrial palette that later on was defined and rearranged by acts such as Faust, Throbbing Gristle and Zoviet France. On here we find it in a muddy embryonic state that mumbles its way through a sombre marmalade wall that colours everything around it in contour-less grime and moist dust.

I have no way of describing this album in a befitting manner. Two long cuts of music made for a romantic meeting between ancient shipyards and oilfield workers. Or maybe it would make for an outstanding soundtrack to a tale of an interstellar blacksmith with robotic bees in his joints. This whole record actually feels like an aching body - like rhythmic arthritis in a man that magically takes on the unnatural form of correlated iron and reverberating screeches.

Klopfzeichen is not your everyday bip bip album, as you probably will have picked up by now. Every sound uttered by either the piano, strings or organs are thrown into that marmalade wall I was on about before. It's those treatments that transform this album from an early Stockhausen like experiment, to the boundary pushing electronic record it is.

To make matters even more incomprehensible, Kluster's first two albums were indeed sponsored by the local church. The in-house organist was drawn to the immeasurable sounds of the group and somehow found a way to sponsor their early endeavours. This is also the reason behind the archaic female incantations of the first cut, that dabbles in esoteric religious motifs and other such guilt fuelled mind constellations. The revolution as often referred to, is on the verge of being on the verge - as always really, but on here you sense a strange symbiosis of wild unhinged youth and the towering biblical escapades of some 2000 years tumbling together.

This is not an easy listen by any stretch of the imagination. It's a curiosity - a rare fluke of experimental music that somehow miraculously got to see the light of day through the help of the most unlikely of places, and still.................I feel lucky to have this in my possession. I played it this morning with a high fever and felt delirious for 40 minutes straight - I climbed the ceiling in a highly inelegant manner and went out of my body, only to land right back where I came from. The journey had taken me out on watery metal surfaces that tricked me into believing that I was gone, away from this earth, if only for a short while. Now that is a feat in itself, and one I surely dare to duplicate the next time I feel like a run-over turd. 3.5 stars

KLUSTER released three albums in 1971 and this is the middle album. Moebius and Roedelius would then change the band's name to CLUSTER and for me the soundscapes would become much better, especially on CLUSTER's first two classic albums. Listening to those recordings is like taking a trip outside in a severe wind storm, they're great. This particular album is made up of two side long suites.

The first is really tough going for me because of the German spoken words that come and go throughout. Very annoying ! Apparently the band was sponsered by a church and so the spoken words are religious in nature. For me it ruins the whole album. I mean who wants to listen to some guy spread this message in a language you don't even understand. Anyway the second part is much better.Very spacey at times with random drums being banged along with lots of other sounds coming and going. A loud outburst comes in after 16 minutes.

No more than 3 stars and the best was yet to come from this duo in CLUSTER.

'Zwei Osterei' or 'Two Easter egg' is very similar to 'Klopfzeichen for the simple reason that it was recorded on the same day.

I recently discovered the rather disturbing fact that in 1968 Kluster journeyed to Corsica where they set up a nudist camp in the mountains! At night they played music until dawn, with Roedelius stating that he found real spiritual music during a full moon. Hmmm... Three naked men battering oil drums in the middle of the night doesn't appeal to me at all. In fact it sounds downright gross. Germans seem very keen on removing their clothes. I've seen enough of that on beaches abroad whilst on holiday, thank you very much.

In 1969 the church, of all establishments, decided to finance these first albums by Kluster, on the condition that religious texts be added on one side. Thankfully my German isn't too good and I'm led to believe that the translation into English sounds incredibly corny.

Record label 'Schwann's tag line was "The workshop of new church music". Well, if I heard music like this in a church I'd be down there every Sunday morning paying my respect to God. This is damn creepy stuff... Their playing technique resembles that of Stockhausen. There are no beats. It's floating, unearthly and atonal with lots of sound generators and electronic filters used throughout. Fans of 'Zoviet France' and early 'Throbbing Gristle' will love this.

Turned up loud, 'Zwei Osterei' is superb for terrifying the neighbours in the middle of the night resembling sounds from the Pittsburgh steelworks replete with sparks flying everywhere.

An atonal, sprawling mass of machine noise that must have been completely out of synch with all other albuns created in the very early 70's. Personally I love this kind of stuff. 80's experimental band 'Zoviet France' surely took inspiration from these three guys from Deutschland.

Conrad Schnitzler who had recently appeared on Tangerine Dream's 'Electronic Meditation' is at the helm of this most experimental of early 70's bands. 'Klopfzeichen' sounds remarkably like Throbbing Gristle's 'Journey through a Body' & 'Shadow of the Sun' from 1981.

You won't find any guitars, drums or bass here. What you get instead are bowed metals and numerous acoustic objects pushed through electronic filters.

There's not much in the way of music or tunes present. This one's all about atmosphere - and it's pretty bleak stuff, complete with spoken German female vocals which add to the desolation that is conjured up.

Played back loud, it produces thoughts in my mind of the aftermath in Dresden in February '45.

Heavy stuff indeed.

I won't pretend that I like this album, or that I appreciate its place in history of Prog music. By my opinion, it's more Prog Electronic, but this fact is not so important. I've ranted in past, I'll rant in future and today dear readers, I'll rant too. It's not happening too often, because mostly, I listen albums that I suppose I'll like. Not this time.

Yes, this won't be nice and some of you may not like me because of that and for that, I'm sad. In these (in total) 44 minutes, there's about 3-4 minutes of interesting "sounds", the rest is either empty, or repeated so much that blood bleeds through my ears. Klopfzeichen should mean something like "pulsing" and yes, there's certainly Tangerine Dreams type of pulsing, the Space Rock one (celestial sounds), but that doesn't mean much to me. And German spoken text certainly doesn't help it at all (again, because some of you may feel offended, I don't hate Germany or its people, but the language sounds unpleasant to me).

Sad thing is that there's nothing I can really appreciate, only majority of album full of boredom, unbearable sounds and the minority is comprised of sounds that I can stand.

1(+), concept I wasn't able to understand, or there's nothing to understand at all ?

Apparently a live album of the Kluster group from the same year that the K became a C, when Moebius and Roedelius decided to keep the group's name (albeit slightly changed), once Schnitzler left the band in May 71. Sooooo what to do with this posthumous release, claiming to be live from that very same year, but having Schnitzler, but not Moebius and Roedelius, unless the last two are included in the "And Friends"? According to Asbjornssen, Kluster's last concert was in May 71 in Gottingen,, but I don't explain the line-up that doesn't mention Dieter and Hans. All I can say it that sonically speaking, this is certainly a real "K"luster album, going as far, if not even further than even Faust dared to. 12 tracks (ranging from 1 to 8 minutes) without names, with only one or two that have a structure or some kind of repeating pattern that can be either seen as rhythm or thread, Admira is certainly a weird disc, but by no means stranger than the Kluster preceding it or the Cluster following it. Often nightmarish, sometimes hypnotic, never melodic, always surprising, these tracks lead you from total insanity to complete madness without you even realizing it in just over one hour, but somehow the album manages to stand on its own and completes its quest for its grail without even battling it out, since its implacable logic leaves no room for discussion. Definitely a must for the "KC"luster fans, but it's hard giving 4 stars to such an album.