My little esoteric corner dedicated to the music I've heard, in full or at least halfway through. Listening to music is one of my favorite things to do--that includes reviewing LPs and EPs, and giving my thoughts on different artists' discographies!
I'm writing mini-reviews for 500+ albums, EPs, and singles, many completely from scratch after not hearing them for several months (possibly years, even). This is a pretty monumental task, but I'm eagerly curious to see how it goes. Discogs has a wide database that has met my needs for a while, but even with its size and scope, there are still many obscure artists and selections that haven't been added. This page is an added attempt for me to list everything in one place and to keep better record of everything I have listened to.
Something to keep in mind as well: I will be writing my honest thoughts on each album and general elements such as composition, lyrics, and content. This naturally means that I will discuss albums or songs that are not appropriate for everyone or that may contain sensitive topics, without content warnings or spoilers beforehand. Read at your own risk.
This album is certainly interesting. Compared to the prominent retro-futurism heard in Kraftwerk’s other works, Electric Café decidedly takes a step back and abandons their main shtick. At a glance, the album should be a disaster. It’s less melodic, the vocals are clunkier than usual (even by the band’s standards), and the sound design is more dated than shoulder pads. There is so little focus on any inherent worldly technological theme, a listener may stop to ask, “What is this album even about?”
I found myself asking the same thing on my first few listens. Yet against all odds, I listened to it again one year and haven’t stopped coming back to it since. It’s not the most coherent thing in the world and it may be repetitive, but after a while I realized: the repetition is entirely the point. Electric Café is first and foremost about textures and semantics; sound semantics, that is. Each track starts by introducing a sound motif connected to a word or phrase, then gradually expands upon that premise with weighty percussions, echoing reverb, and a building atmospheric stage of clinking-clanking harmonics. It’s all oddly hypnotic, and it is abstract enough to get me focused on a more introspective art piece any time I need it. In the album’s rather disjointed premise and its short length, there is a solid manifesto centered on the technology of the time, compared to the futuristic themes of Kraftwerk's other works.
Kraftwerk as a word ultimately translates to power station. And “industrial rhythms all around” do fit that theme.
Telephone Call may be the more catchy, characteristically “Kraftwerk” track on this album, but Techno Pop more effectively shows its concept. The metallic clanking is hypnotic in its own right and there is still a hint of melody in its chord progressions and the main instrument. I actually think the album should’ve been called Techno Pop in the first place.