Wolfgang Flür live, or when Kraftwerk were funny
Plus new music from George Riley, Call Sender, Marina Herlop and Tirzah
What do you do with your life after you’ve spent 14 years in one of the most successful, influential and downright adored bands in history? For Wolfgang Flür, who was with Kraftwerk from Autobahn to Electric Café, a period that produced stone-cold classic albums that set the template for all electronic music, the answer, it seems, is to enjoy life, to celebrate the illustrious past without ever forgetting about the future.
I saw Wolfgang play in Barcelona at the start of September, five weeks to the day after I had seen the current incarnation of Kraftwerk play live in Sitges (you can read more about that here). And I was struck by how complementary the two sides of the Kraftwerk equation remain, 35 years after Flür exited the band. Which is to say that Flür obviously relies heavily on his association with Kraftwerk in his live show; but Kraftwerk, too, could do with some of the levity and joy that Flür brings to the table. I loved Kraftwerk’s Sitges concert - my fourth Kraftwerk gig - largely because I found the passion in Ralf Hütter’s performance. But “found” is the right word - I had to go looking for the ardour in the band’s performance and not everyone was convinced. My wife, for one, was not entirely swayed by the rather stony Kraftwerk set up, which she found cold.
Flür, by contrast, absolutely overflows with passion and joy. When he performs - and I’m not quite sure what he was doing up there but it looked closer to a DJ set than Kraftwerk’s actually quite live performance - he moves around, smiles, does a weird dance with his elbows and makes goofy gestures. At one point - and I assume this is to do with Flür’s Musik Soldat concept - he puts on an old military helmet and marches around the stage. It is a genuinely heart-warming performance, from an artist who could, perhaps, have been left bitter by his departure from Kraftwerk. And while I am certainly not expecting Kraftwerk in their current (or, indeed, any) incarnation to start military two-stepping around the stage with vast grins on their faces, a little of Flür’s big-hearted charm would go a long way to letting a little sunlight into the band’s grandiose but austere 2023 charms.
Because it may have been excised from their history but Kraftwerk were once, occasionally, a pretty funny band. Autobahn’s riffs on the Beach Boys, for example, make me laugh and there is definitely an element of tongue-in-cheek humour to The Model. (I hope there’s humour to Electric Café’s Sex Object, too. If not - ewwww.) And this touch of humour makes the band feel a lot more human.
This, incidentally, is why I also love Flür’s brilliant autobiography, I Was A Robot. Its warts-and-all tales of life in Kraftwerk - I particularly loved the group’s corporeal struggles at their 1981 Mumbai gig - might have infuriated Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider but they made me love the band even more, by highlighting their humanity. Of course, I love the way Kraftwerk play with the conepts of robots and the man machine; but I love them as humans. And that is what Flür’s book delivers.
Obviously, the relationship between Flür and Kraftwerk flows both ways. He starts his set with a banging, technofied version of Home Computer and also plays Neon Lights, the two Kraftwerk classics being the highlight of his set for an audience that reflects back his joy. The backdrop to his set, too, are pictures of Kraftwerk in their pomp, often with Flür to the fore, as if we might confused him with Ringo from The Beatles. (As the band’s former drummer, Flür is definitely the Ringo of Kraftwerk - and I have few higher compliments to give.)
Flür’s recorded output also owes a great deal to Kraftwerk. His 2022 album Magazine 1 essentially answers the question: what would Kraftwerk be like if they spent less time on endlessly refining their production and a bit more experimenting with slightly silly voices? Kraftwerk’s influence hangs heavily over the album, from the Robots-esque beat on the title track to Night Drive’s wait-here-it-comes! references to Trans-Europe Express. Being a former Kraftwerk member undoubtedly also helped in tempting guests like Juan Atkins and Peter Hook onto the album.
Of course, it is pretty much impossible that Flür would ever be invited back into Kraftwerk - far too much water has passed under the bridge - and I doubt Flür would want to go back. But the fact that, even after all these years, I can still see Flür’s place in Kraftwerk and Kraftwerk’s place in Flür sent me home a happy man on a windy Barcelona night.
PS You can hear my Line Noise interview with Wolfgang here; and, why not?, my Line Noise interview with Karl Bartos here.
Something to watch and listen to
Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty
I have been glued to season two of HBO’s Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty, which traces the ascent of the Showtime era LA Lakers, and I couldn’t quite work out why, given that I don’t particularly care about either basketball or Los Angeles. (Sorry LA.) The series is superbly acted and very cleverly put together, using old film stock and modern editing techniques to create an vibrant, yet slightly dreamy, take on early 80s Los Angeles. But perhaps best of all is its use of music, which comprises note perfect early 80s disco, soul and rock, like Too Slow To Disco being threatened with a pistol. It makes me want to move to LA, in the early 80s, and buy roller skates. Every single episode sends me to Shazam at least once and this playlist, which rounds up all the songs used, has become a firm favourite.
Things to listen to
West London vocalist George Riley arrived on my radar with her vocal on Anz’ pop house banger You Could Be, one of my absolutely favourite singles of 2021. Since then, she has released a number of decent soul (ish) electronic pop songs. But I was delighted to read that she has gone full-on house diva for Elixir, her debut single for Ninja Tune, a rumbling, bumping, funking piece of work that wouldn’t sound too out of place on the 90s Strictly Rhythm roster, albeit way more towards the “song” end of the Strictly spectrum.
A recent trip to Provence has reawakened my rampant Francophilia, which might explain why I have fallen so hard for Nova. It’s not actually French - Call Sender are an Anglo American duo - but it is inspired by French library music of the 1970s, which makes it A) very AIR indeed and B) absolutely perfect for dreaming of those warm Provençal nights. Oh France: take me back.
Or, no, OK, maybe Catalonia will do. The return to Barcelona has been eased by news of a forthcoming album from Catalan artist extraordinaire Marina Herlop, inspired, as far as I can make out, by gardening. Nekkuja, the new album in question, is probably Herlop’s warmest work so far, balancing unlikely pop hooks with instrumental weirdness, the electronic corners of Pripyat rubbing up against the live musicality of Herlop’s first two albums, as you can hear on lead single La Alhambra. (Although my absolute favourite song on the album is Cosset, which its obtusely swinging jazz drums.)
Pop Tirzah may well be my favourite Tirzah and the London singer is in rare melodic feel on this song, the opener from her new album trip9love..???. It’s a strange album on the whole, closer, perhaps, to a mixtape than anything, with tracks flowing into each other and a limited palette of sounds - as the notes explain “the tracks were built using piano loops on top of one beat, distortion added, then romantic vocal toplines”. That’s literally, one beat, with the same drums throughout, which makes extended listening slightly distracting. But the romantic vocal toplines on F22 are excellent.
Things I’ve done
I was going to tell you about a big Line Noise interview this week, with an American alternative music icon turned club enthusiast. But it has been postponed until (maybe) January. But I can tell you that I have written the sleeve notes for Lapsus’s very long-awaited reissue of CoLD SToRAGE’s soundtrack to legendary Playstation game wipE’out’', which is out in November (ish). My contribution is the smallest of all: Lapsus have been working on this for three years, the package is gorgeously put together and it includes new remixes from the likes of Kode9, µ-Ziq and Brainwaltzera. But it is fabulous to be a part of this, in any small way, and I hope the sleeve notes are worthy of the project.
My wife thinks my playlist is too long and disorganised. I countered that my music tastes are too long and disorganised. Anyway, here you have it: 1,569 songs, 100 hours and 21 likes. I don’t want to beg but that is a pretty poor ratio and I can’t change it just by myself.