THE LOST TAPES

As one of Germany's most successful bands to emerge from the wild and crazy Krautrock scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s, CAN has endured like few others have with a never-ending interest in this Cologne based band's bizarre blend of avant-funk and electronic experimentalism. Known for recording pretty much everything they played from early morning to the wee hours of the night, CAN amassed a huge arsenal of extra material that didn't make it onto their official albums starting all the way back with 1976's "Unlimited Edition" which collected the flotsam and jetsam and forged a veritable spectrum of sonic exploration even more so than what CAN would release on its so-called "normal" albums.

But wait? there's more! If that wasn't enough CAN also found a posthumous release of its earliest inception with Malcom Mooney at the singer's helm in the form of 1981's spectacular early offerings in the form of "Delay 1968," however was it really fair to assume that CAN had even more hidden gems tucked away in the cookie jar just waiting to give the fans a sweet treat that they just couldn't seem to get enough of? Well, i would assume not but lo and behold this prolific band was relentless in the studio having crafted one musical Frankenstein after another with some to be included for film soundtracks that never came to be while others were just spontaneous bouts of weirdness that faded as fast as they were forged and forever forgotten until Irmin Schmidt's insistent wife Hildegard coaxed the band to revisit a stash of poorly marked tapes in the vaults.

To the band's surprise there were a whopping 50 hours of material lingering in those dark recesses for over three decades like fine wine gaining more character every passing year in the hopes of offering that perfect odiferous bouquet. To Schmidt's chagrin, he was strongly compelled to seek out any diamonds in the rough before time had permanently rendered them dust in the wind. And so he did with his trusted son-in-law Jono Podmore at his side reliving those magic moments that were fleeting but brought back to life with loving care and finally released as a 3-CD boxed set titled THE LOST TAPES in 2012. Who said the Mayan calendar ending was a bad thing? Part of the story includes the CAN studio Wallerswist having been sold to the German Rock N Pop Museum where every artifact was lovingly accounted for and relocated to the city of Gronau. Little did anyone know that there were treasures lurking in the Spoon Records archive and so the arduous task of selection began.

THE LOST TAPES is a veritable tribute to CAN's more experimental playful side spanning the band's entire career from 1968 to 1977 and includes both singers Malcom Mooney and Damo Suzuki along with the many band members themselves. The tracks can roughly be divided into a few general categories. Firstly there are those such as the opening "Millionspiel" and the majority of Disc 1 that encompasses the traditional expected CAN sounds that include that familiar avant-funk bass grooves along with hints of 60s rock and roll, 70s Krautrock and the deliciously wild electronic extravaganzas that took it all to the cosmos and back. Secondly are tidbits of pure escapist's bliss in electronic soundscapes such as "When Darkness Comes." These tracks are far outside the parameter of what CAN released on its albums and sound more like the bleak industrial electronica that would take off in the 1980s with bands such as Einstürzende Neubauten. Thirdly an excellent repertoire of unreleased live performances that showed CAN in its prime and was far from a studio only band.

With a playing time of roughly 196 minutes, THE LOST TAPES is a massive sprawling collection of music that proves impossible to take in on a single listen but who would really want to. Tracks range from short musical instrumentals such "Oscura Primavera", the electronic mindfuckery "The Loop" to the proto-punk outbursts in the form of the Hendrix-ish "Midnight Sky." Others such as "Graublau," "Dead Pigeon Suite" and "Abra Cada Braxas" showcase the band's lengthy jamming tendencies laced with lysergic atmospherics and tight-knit guitar / bass / drum rock heft. The tracks are displayed roughly in chronologic order from the earliest 60s material to the late 70s but various live tracks are intermittently dispersed seemingly in a random fashion as to break things up.

This should truly be considered one for the true fans except for the fact that the material presented on THE LOST TAPES is of equal caliber to just about anything CAN had unleashed on its primary albums with the possible exception of the outstanding uniqueness of "Tago Mago." While it sounds like 3 discs of unreleased CAN material could result in a rather uneventful listening experience, it comes as quite a surprise that this set of 30 tracks is extremely high in quality with really nothing standing out as substandard. After all there were at least 50 hours of music to choose from so the fact that this collection had been whittled down to a mere 3 hours plus ensured that only the cream of the crop was resurrected from its catacomb where it lay dormant for so very long. While i rarely get excited about triple disckers of archival forgotten material, THE LOST TAPES is certainly the exception as this collection not only stands up to CAN's classic material but also shows the more explorative nature of the band that was too wild even for the already extreme explorative nature of the primetime heyday of the band. An excellent treasure find this sure was!