Review Summary: Someone had to build the highway before we could drive on it.
Kraftwerk's impact on the popular music landscape of the past 50 years is difficult to overstate. It may seem hyperbolic, but they've inspired countless artists both across the world and across genre boundaries, from Eno and Bowie to
Blondie and
Joy Division, to
New Order and
Depeche Mode, to
The Orb,
Underworld and
Derrick May. To distil their legacy briefly and modestly, Kraftwerk were the great turning point of electronic music, almost single-handedly taking the genre to new heights of accessibility and popular appeal. They were not so much pioneers in terms of being the first to do it - electronic music had been brewing for a few decades - but their approach shaped it in such a way that successfully resonated with and attracted a much wider audience. It was not quite lightning in a bottle either; Kraftwerk's music evolved constantly throughout their classic era, yet remained cutting edge all throughout. Their early psychedelic krautrock and ambient explorations would eventually culminate in the hypnotic but catchy Autobahn - their first serious success. Together with the well-crafted and increasingly danceable cuts from Trans-Europe Express and The Man Machine this would lead the way for the following decade of synthpop, before 1981's Computer World would show us visionary glimpses of the shape of techno to come.
With such a massive legacy it is perhaps not surprising that many tend to focus on and emphasise the Kraftwerk works which had the most direct, obvious, or significant impact on the landscape of pop and electronic music. As a result their first three releases tend to slip through the cracks. More unfortunate still is that the band themselves have distanced themselves from these albums to such a degree as to call them "archaeology". Be that as it may, both archaeology and its findings can be quite fascinating, and there’s certainly much of value to be found in this early material.
Ralf & Florian is the third Kraftwerk album, recorded and released in 1973, created entirely by Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider, and produced by Conny Plank. It is a transition album, moving further and further away from the unfettered experimentation of the first two traffic cone adorned releases to something simultaneously more electronic-focused yet also invitingly structured. In many ways, Ralf & Florian walked so that Autobahn could run... uhh, so that we could ... drive? Hmm... It also ended up being the last record to be produced solely by the two titular masterminds, before Kraftwerk brought on Wolfgang Flür and Karl Bartos to aid with percussion.
"Elektrisches Roulette" starts things off with an electronic rumble followed by a cosmic flourish - a bold announcement of the more prominent role synthesisers would play on this album. Looking ahead, yet still rooted in their previous work, the track slowly builds to an energetic krautrock jam, though relatively concise and quite melodic. Above all else, it retains the playfulness of their earlier music - and in that sense, it sets the stage perfectly for the rest of the album. Equally jovial and upbeat is "Tanzmusik", somewhat reminiscent of the previous album's "Klingklang" with its simplistic driving beat and warm melodies. However, the way it builds upon itself with added layers of improvised percussion, handclapping and even wordless vocalisation give it a sort of whimsy and naivete almost antithetical to what most might expect from Kraftwerk's present reputation of robotic beats. Their first two records certainly had a quality that could be described as "cosmic" - as krautrock often was - especially during the sections where droning and unorthodox effects conjured strange, otherworldly soundscapes. Ralf & Florian on the other hand is far more approachable; its atmosphere is more inviting; its experimentation exudes a sort of childlike wonder.
"Kristallo" is perhaps the odd song out in terms of mood, an entirely synthesised piece whose phasing bassline and ethereal keyboards work to build a mysterious atmosphere, perhaps more akin to the group's later "Hall of Mirrors" though not quite as sparse. But eventually even this song folds in on itself towards the end, giving way to a more energetic climax with a more conventional melody.
The other tracks largely fall under the umbrella of ambient, though again with a focus on conventional melody and harmony compared to their counterparts from previous albums. "Tongebirge" is a brief and gentle duel between flute and synthesiser, and it seems the synthesiser must have won because on the gentler-still "Heimatklange" the flute takes a back seat, subtly adding extra texture to the background of an otherwise mellow keyboard-centric piece. Finally, the curiously titled "Ananas Symphonie" takes up roughly the final third of the album. Its length is the only grandiose or imposing thing about it, as the song is a calm and pleasant downtempo affair whose combination of synths, guitar and zither evokes a relaxing day at the beach more than anything. The pineapple in the title may well be a nod to its warm tropical character, though it could just as well be a silly vagary. Also notable here is the announcement of its title by a voice processed with an early prototype vocoder, an effect that would feature prominently on later Kraftwerk material as something of a trademark.
For a stepping stone record between their most adventurous early output and the later refined formula that would influence so many, Ralf & Florian is both cohesive and accessible. Most fans of Autobahn should not find this noticeably more primitive, though it is perhaps simpler and less ambitious in some ways. Regardless, it's the first Kraftwerk album that showed they are just as comfortable exploring conventional melodic sensibilities embellished and enhanced electronically as they were previously in exploring the cosmos. It is certainly a shame that the group would much rather banish these records of their evolution to the dusty annals of history (none of the first three albums have seen an official reissue since the 70s!); a double shame when the music itself is this interesting and enjoyable.
