STERNTALER

I picked up this album in the 70's since I was a fan of Neu. What a find!!! I know that most people will disagree, but I feel that this album exceeds any of Neu's albums. Much more polished, and without the punk aesthetic that gave Neu its legendary status, this album immediately reminded me of three of my favorite artists at that time: Brian Eno, Can and Mike Oldfield. Of course, Can's drummer plays on this album, which explains that comparison. The other two have to do with Rother's guitar and synth sounds, and his tendency to slowly add instruments to the mix. Rother's first three solo albums are great; after that, he started tinkering with his sound (adding clunky drum machines and new- fangled synths that weighed things down), and lost track of his ability to write a decent melody.

"Sterntaler" is a landmark of Michael Rother's guitar playing. The various compositions try at the same time to develop catchy, melodic instrumental songs. As in the previous effort, Jacki Liebezeit (CAN) delivers a very monotone metronomic drum pulse (relatively similar to NEU! drum patterns). Rother offers very emotional, dreamy guitar lines, quite simplistic but beautifully "minimalist". The first track starts with a repetitive clean guitar sound to finally let the place to endless "monochord", neoromantic guitar solos and drum mechanic pulses. It finishes as it starts with the initial bass/ clean guitar melody. The second track is a seductive, peaceful ballad composed around the guitar. Rother delivers a very soft, calm and detached melody under the rain. " Stromlinien" is rather similar to the opening tune, repetitive, deep bass guitar lines with a metronomic pulse. The same melody is taken back with electricity for intense, "grave" guitar tones. After a small tranquil break line, we return to the initial melodic, tragic, "bombastic" state. In "Sterntaler" the scheme of composition is always the same, put the stress on melancholic, simple meditative nature guitar solos. The tune starts with a rather naïve synth line accompanied by an exotic slide guitar. Track 5 is surely the most achieved composition. It alternates a crystalline melody on the electric piano and inspired wonderful escaping guitar lines with a touch of xylophone in the background. A very pleasant listening. Highly recommended if you and your girlfriend want to spend a relaxed, introspective moment together.

Michael Rother's sophomore effort is probably the least essential of his early, post-NEU! solo albums, but that's a relative distinction: his first three (career best) albums are remarkably consistent in style, performance and production. Consider it the middle chapter of a trilogy in progress, before the guitarist shifted in the 1980s to a less organic, keyboard-based sound.

A newcomer might not hear a lot going on here. Simple, strummed guitar rhythms; uncomplicated melodies; minimal soloing...all accompanied by some of the most repetitive drumming this side of a metronome: a Jaki Liebezeit trademark. But on closer exposure the beautifully simple design and execution reveals enough depth to allow the listener plenty of room for a private epiphany.

It's true the half-dozen instrumental tracks tend to blend together with sometimes unchanging uniformity. And yet individually each one is a minor miracle of understated grace: the gentle echoes of "Blauer Regen"; the monotone thrumming in the middle section of "Stromlinien"; the ecstatic chords rising to the climax of the title track. And best of all, that moment in the chorus of "Fontana di Luna" when the stereo separation dramatically opens: another clue to the subtle genius of producer / guru Conny Plank.

Imagine the music of NEU! without the Krautrock aggression, uplifting instead of edgy. But stick with the original vinyl if you can: the CD bonus tracks, recorded more than a decade later, actually spoil the experience. Vapid New Age harmonies, a barren digital soundstage, and the absence of a flesh-and-blood drummer all underline the extent of Rother's stylistic atrophy between 1977 and 1993. But of course the grass was usually greener on the other side of the analog fence, wasn't it?