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22 Nov 2016

A.R. & Machines “Echo”1972 Germany Kraut Rock Psychedelic

A.R. & Machines  “Echo”1972 Germany Kraut Rock Psychedelic
Producer, composer and musician from Hamburg (Germany), Achim Reichel is a key figure in the explosion of krautrock. Reichel was first a founder member of “The Rattles” at the beginning of the 60’s. In 1968 he formed the “Wonderland band” with the drummer Frank Dostal. Late 60’s he launched his first solo musical project called A.R and the machines. Musically it provides a supreme sonic musical voyage turned to cycled psychedelic guitar playing with lot of echoes and delay. The first album was published in 1971 in collaboration with Frank Dostal. The album presents an ambitious collection of spacey rock jams featuring a lot of electronic effects and arrangements. This album prefigures “acid” trips of krautrock guitar / minimal electronic explorers like Manuel Gottsching. The guitar freakouts and the weird imagination of the first effort continue to prevail in the following inspired, confused and various Die Grune Reise, A.R. IV, Autovision (generally a mix between guitar soudscapes and psych pop orientated songs). Reichel decided to abandon the project after 5 studio albums. Today A.R and the machines remains a high class standard of hypnotic space-echo guitar inventions…………… 

Almost seven long years since the first publication of KRAUTROCKSAMPLER. Wow. So I’d presumed there was hardly anything left to champion. My job was done, and there was a whole other new generation of maniacs who, by now, probably knew even more about the Krautrock scene than I’d ever known. So I was a bit freaked out to discover from a coupla good friends and major heads that poor old Achim Reichel’s big psychedelic space-outs ain’t never received the treatment they deserved even to this day. 
It was Steve Freeman from Ultima Thule who clued me into this particular sprawling 83-minute monster back in 1995. Soon after the publication of Krautrocksampler, Steve sent me a cassette tape which, in turn, got copied on to DAT and whizzed around other head-scratching inner spacers, who each waited with baited breath for a proper re-release which never came. 
Then, the actual writing of The Modern Antiquarian took over, and Krautrock in the Cope household got temporarily sidelined by my return to the gonzo proto-metal of the Stooges, Funkadelic, Black Sabbath and the MC5, all fleshed out by new loves such as Sir Lord Baltimore, Blue Cheer, even early Grand Funk. But, of course, there were still those happy accidents, nay designs, which straddled both camps so successfully that I was soon back on track. And so it was inevitable that I should eventually return to this huge and sprawling inner world which Achim Reichel AKA ‘A.R.’ decided to call Echo. 

And what an inner world this album is. Over four sides of vinyl, Reichel created a vast parallel otherworld which allowed listeners to sink so deep within themselves that the return to the real world at the end of side 4 always came as a genuine shock. Even more so than Walter Wegmuller’s Tarot, which allows the listener to rove from emotion to emotion, Echo operates on such a singular level that listeners actually start to feel inhabited by this record. It is such a long recording that Thighpaulsandra and I had difficulties transferring it to CD because we both became taken over by the sound. We’d worry about the length of times between each track, we’d try and add more treble to it when it was unnecessary purely because Achim Reichel’s super-echoed guitar was just too watery to listen to over and over without entirely losing perspective. Man, it just took hours. 

But it was surely worth every moment. For this 1972 recording is a giant of an album, and any move that will help to push Polydor into its late re-release is nothing less than essential. Indeed, it was only last week when I called Alan Freeman at Ultima Thule to get a CD copy of Echo to Holy McGrail, that I discovered the album’s unavailability. I’d just presumed that the job had been done long ago, and can I buy a new copy myself please. Of course, with hindsight it’s possible to explain the oversight thus: Achim Reichel is nowadays a very successful German actor with seemingly no interest in his Krautrock output. He had begun as leader of The Rattles, Germany’s mid-60s answer to the Beatles, before jumping on to the ‘heavy’ scene introduced into Germany at the turn of the decade. From the Rattles, Reichel took Frank Dorstal and Dicky Tarrach with him to form Wonderland, after which a brief period of experimentation with the echoed electric guitar saw the recording of 1970’s Die Grune Reise. This stupendously weird and outrageous vocal and guitar and whatever-happens-to-be-around piece of post-psychedelia was then released on Polydor as the first official LP as AR & Machines. Five more albums of varying quality and experiment escaped during the 1970s. But Reichel himself had abandoned the project by the late 70s and then returned to making pop music. The jump from music to acting had obviously only alienated him still further from this idealistic work of the early-70s. 

But, if artists themselves are uninspired by a particular period of their earlier work, as Achim Reichel has been shown to be, it becomes up to others more motivated to make that work available. And when that work could be utilised by major heads for some serious shamanic endeavour, instead of lying unloved in some freezing and damp corporate catacomb, then it is time for the forward-thinking motherfuckers to shine a light in the darkness and scream out: “Navigation! Navigation! Navigation!” 
So please excuse the nature of this long and unwieldy introduction to February’s Album of the Month. And do please understand that, in these heady long-post-Krautrock days, it was first necessary to hip you to the Achim Reichel scene before I could, with any real sense of conviction, punch my fists MC5-like in the air and scream: “Bring it ON!” 

Echo opens with the massive low key 20-minute rumbles of “Invitation”, in which hugely echoed watery electric guitars minor-chord their way across a vast sky of long tape phasing, as rhythms of subterranean dripping punctuate the caverns of your unlit mind, and send listeners back into a proto-Gollum state. The tape-phasing spirals ever up and up as the cavern route takes you ever more down and down, like yo’ head is travelling to Jupiter and your arse fell into the sub-sonic wells of eternity. Your newly dead body is being rouged with face paint to prepare you for the next world, by chattering unseen spirit forms who minister to the bodily needs of your former corporeal self. Around seven minutes into the music, strange orchestras lining the route to your future home set up another massively tape-phased heraldic theme as Thor, or even some Armenian proto-Thor (Tarhunda/Tork), hammer wielding and mounted on the first of eight black flying warhorses burns across the sky. He’s an arc-welding forward-thinker with both eyes on the future, and his cohorts are elegant saxophone Gods and a sure-footed Mercurial drummer with a seven league bounce in his stride, who kicks in a big 6/8 rhythm as the skygods’ practise aerobatics overhead. It’s as though the Red Arrows were passing through some cosmically-sized ring modulator with hundreds of yards of one inch recording tape trailing off the back of their tail-planes. Intense co-ordination of musicianship is counted as a big plus in this Pantheon of Gods and Goddesses, and they’ve clearly been playing a higher form of Krautrock since the early Bronze Age. Indeed, these were probably the ur-deities who brought the first news of wire guitar strings to Ash Ra Tempel. For this is the territory in which we find ourselves – a mounting Schwingungen landscape lit by flares of pitch and torches of burning tar, each carried by some unknown horse-mounted earth spirit. 
It’s an ever intensifying ever-speeding-up multi-guitar-led rock’n’roll rampage across the ancient starlit skies without so much as one hoary cliché passing across any of the guitar strings. Theme after theme opens out upon yet-more-themes, as drums build then break down to accommodate, then build up again only to fail like waves breaking on some ancient musical shore. When the drums break down for the last time, Mellotron-like real voiced cyber-choirs have taken over to orchestrate our descent into the end of the track with perfect spiritual applomb. “Invitation” is a big beautiful pagan darkness with the bright-eyed soon-come Zoroastrian promise of a wide-mouthed and smiling beaming enlightenment. 

Four musical massifs straddle the next three sides of vinyl, each song dedicated to illustrating “The Echo of the Present”, “The Echo of Time”, “The Echo of the Future” and “The Echo of the Past”. It’s so important (and so easy) to accept the artist’s metaphor when his vision is as clear and strong as this record. Though Reichel’s music here never sounds like it, Echo’s mystery approximates similar emotions to Klaus Schulze’s later masterwork Dune, in which muttering voices (in Schulze’s case Arthur Brown) are used so effectively to conjure up the sounds of lost ancestors. 

Side B’s “The Echo of the Present” begins almost as “Invitation” had done, that same watery minor guitar preparing us for a sweet howling vocal, which, in turn, propels drums and multiple percussion off into another horse-mounted march through Middle Europe. Once more are there Gods on the landscape, bringing themes to the peasant population, all interwoven with an undulating and indefinable poetical gabbling. A.R. and his posse are here and they’re spreading mystery and enlightenment with sound and rhythm. Catch a few words and they say something about the mountains, something about coming from far away, and something about urging the populace to ‘come on’. Then the whole ensemble come to some musical ford, whereupon Achim declares: “When I was a little boy - 600,000 years… ” As he declaims grandly about his fathers and his mothers, his lieutenants are searching the river bank to the north and south, determined to cross this wide stream, in order to get to the other side, where a magical music is generating as if from some enormous Mother machine. With resolve and care they eventually find some route like stepping stones hidden just below the surface of the water. Achingly slowly, they begin to cross to the other side, whereupon the musical Mother Machine opens her mouth and sucks them up in a flash. Blink and they are gone – through a cosmic portal of immense proportion. 

Within micro-seconds, we are on the other side of that parallel world, with children playing in some forever playground. It’s a place where ancient life-forms dance around the Maypole of some half-life Medieval fair. This is “The Echo of Time”. Reichel and his horsemen briefly investigate this other world before continuing on their epic journey. Reichel is the seerer of forever, the intoner of magic, inventor of words, poet of existence, and we are just there to be dragged onwards into his musical vision. Leaving the ensemble but still declaiming wildly, he climbs to the very top of a sacred mountain, which rears up before us. At the summit, he calls out: 

“There’s a man on the moon, there’s a woman in the sun!” 

Remember right now that real time for Achim is 1972. The astronauts are up there on the Moon’s surface and cosmic Humanity is truly at hand. Remember also that Achim is a German, for whom the Sun is a Goddess (noun Sonne f.) and the Moon is a God (noun Mond m.). Being of both Keltic and Scando-Germanic stock, our British psyche conveniently allows us to see Sun and Moon as being of both sexes. But that also allows us to often see them as being of neither sex, so there ARE disadvantages. Instead, we must here open our minds to a female Sun of constancy, and to a Hunting Moon which dances across the sky in a manner which is seemingly impossible to anticipate. THIS is the shamanic Moon. This is the Moon of chaos and lugh-na-cy. The Moon which draws the menstrual blood-flow out of our women, is that same Moon which causes the tidal flows of Mother Earth’s oceans to gravitate upwards, and whose energy pulls our shamanic other out through our third eyes and guides us up towards it. For the shaman belongs to Lugh. As shamanic Iggy was wont to announce: “Cause I’m Lugh’s.” We are Lupine or, as shamanic Ozzy was wont to announce, “barking at the Moon”. 

Down and down and down and down goes the music until roaring rock’n’roll chords possess us and send huge legions of Amon Duul dervish drummers upon us. We are then sent through another portal into yet another driving and simmering and seething horse-borne riff. And on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Until all mystery implodes on itself and the sounds of forever subside into a deep and relieving silence at the end of side B, leaving only the static crackle of the needle in the groove. Indeed, five minutes of silence right now woulda been very enjoyable. But we’re here stuck in a digital land where the CD determines when and where we should listen. Be brave, because we’re moving on. 

Side C takes us deep into the ur-heart of this double-LP. For it is here that we get beyond Achim Reichel’s stylings and into a pure pure form of music. This side long piece known as “The Echo of the Future” commences with the electro-zither and strummed piano strings, as Turkish percussion and Eastern European tunings herald yet more massed ranks of fast strummed vivacious electro-acoustic guitars. Could be the middle of Walter Wegmuller’s Tarot right now, or even the massive side long “Hoch-Zeit” from Lord Krishna Von Goloka. We’ve entered a multi-layered sonic world of confusion and inspiration, where the higher spirit unites with other higher spirits to create a vast and cerebrally abandoned beauty. Endless layers of echoed vocals ‘aaaaaaaaaaaah!’ and ‘oooooooooh’, as Reichel declaims ludicrous and enthralling lyrics about the universe. It’s like Rainer Bauer’s delightful pseudo-English on Amon Duul 2’s “Sandoz in the Rain”, and makes you realise just how perfectly English works as the language of rock’n’roll. No wonder Germans, Italians, French and Japanese are happy to scream such things as “Right On”, “Motherfuckers”, “All Right!”, and all those other hoary rock cliches, never feeling the need to translate it into their own respective languages. These time honoured underground words register all higher forms and feelings of rebellion, release, obstinacy and youthful cerebration/celebration. 
Meanwhile, back at the track, we’re still travelling deep into a musical landscape of vast horizons and endless flattened plains. Ancestor spirits lurk in every corner of this piece, muttering to themselves in some transcendental post-language that approximates Japanese here, Delta blues there, Burroughsian Pig Latin desert song elsewhere… 

And so we come at long last to the final track, known as “The Echo of the Past.” Here reduced to 16 minutes (by myself and Thighpaulsandra) in order to get it all on to one CD, this sidelong weird-out is, in its entirety, really close to being a full 20-minutes long, and is the wildest and most eclectic track of all. Beginning like a real song with real lyrics, “The Echo of the Past” kicks off like a more accommodating version of something from Peter Hammill’s The Silent Corner & the Empty Stage. But too soon and most bizarrely, it degenerates into a cosmic chimp out. Remember those apemen at the end of T. Dream’s Atem? Well, they’re here with a vengeance – indeed these babies are a full year earlier than Edgar & Co. But then, these babbling droolers are only giving the listener more of what A.R. & Machines had delivered one year earlier on their first album, 1970’s Die Grune Reise. Ever wondered what possessed Marc Bolan to finish certain early Tyrannosaurus Rex LP tracks by letting them just degenerate into a psychobabble something akin to an acid-fuelled bar mitzvah led by Jewish Donovan – I surely have. But I sure wouldn’t change those moments of inspired deformed madness for a fucking T. Rex LP, no way. And so it is with the bizarre ending which Reichel chose for Echo. It even gets weirder - a full sounding and beautiful orchestra starts up out of the blue and we’re soon digging the same trench as John Cale did on his legendary The Academy in Peril. Remember “Legs Larry at the Television Centre”? Well, he’s here again. And this time he’s accompanied by David Ackles all ready to perform his magnificent “Montana Song”. See what I mean? What kind of wide references are these? From three sides of minor chord electric horse-riding to orchestras and the Ur-Men’s tea party, this wild double-LP is one greedy motherfucker. And just as you’re at your most confusal and beginning to think in a kind of Stanley Unwin-ese, an incredible music concrete of bells, pipes and woodwind tends to your poor outraged (and outreached) mind and soothes, soothes, oh how it soothes. On and on and on go the bells, until they inevitably begin to fade and a sense of termination-any-minute-now descends upon the reluctant listener. Too soon the record is finished and the needle is glitching heartlessly. Why, if Thighpaulsandra were in charge, we’d all be guaranteed of at least 10 more minutes. But greed is an ugly trait, and Achim Reichel must only be praised for his incredible and wide-reaching musical vision. Indeed, without a negative thing to say about the actual content of this album, I’d prefer to end this review by saying: 

Petition your local record shop, your local Polygram office, your neighbours – U-Neeeed this record! The mental health of the west can only be uplifted by its re-release!….by Julian Cope………. 

Discipline, structure, and focus. If that’s what you adore about progressive rock, run like hell from A. R. & Machines. If, however, you prize prog’s ability to wash over you with waves of weirdness until your astral form winds up light years away from your physical body – perhaps having forgotten that said body ever existed, you know man, in the really real sense – then Echo may be the lost classic that you’ve been waiting for. 
This is especially true if your soul happens to respond to the unique conjunction of cosmic forces that resulted in a seemingly infinite universe of obscure vinyl treasures between roughly 1966 and 1977. Germany didn’t have a monopoly on spacey pagan psychedelia by any means, but there’s enough of a concentration of unrestrained genius in that extended circle to assure that most of us are still rediscovering the many facets of Krautrock at this late date – and, it must be said, the same probably goes for many of those who made the music to begin with. 

I don’t know that Achim Reichel (let alone Herr Schultze) ever takes a spare hour and a half to revisit Echo. He may (like the vast majority of my esteemed prog contemporaries and probably the world at large) only think of Echo to dismiss the album as an incoherent and self-indulgent soup of delay effects and cryptobabble. Fair enough, but I’ve tasted a lot of bad soup, and even more bland soup, and this is neither of those recipes. 

For one thing, the music is genuinely but non-specifically evocative – one of the essential keys to the gate of transcendence, so to speak. It’ll put you on the road without really suggesting a direction, but this is no spineless New Age ambient wallpaper; Echo will assert itself on a regular basis to give your mind something unexpected to work with. 

The minimalist, minor-key repetitions have the same moody trance-inducing quality of Cluster and Eno, but with an acid rock foundation rather than an ambient synth framework. Einladung (Invitation) is all about guitars and drums.. and water, and drawn-out flange sweeps. If I say the word ‘cave’, am I forcing my authority on the chaotic freedom of your mind’s drift, man? 

It’s sometimes hauntingly beautiful, too, and surprisingly powerful. 

And it gets funky like only Krautrock can, taking all of the acid dance freakout fun of Velvet Underground meets swinging London meets Haight-Ashbury and turning it into a cosmic party cruise attended by Teutonic stewardesses. And then Carlos Castaneda appears, with pre-electric Marc Bolan as his spirit guide, and everything disappears into the forest primeval. And you’re STILL only on the second song, Das Echo Der Gegenwart (The Echo Of The Present). Lucky for us, the present was 1972, which was a far more timeless present than our current future, which so much more quickly slips into the past. 

If you haven’t given up by the point that Das Echo Der Zeit (The Echo Of Time) arrives, you’re in for a Throbbing Gristle of a treat. Never has there been such difficulty telling novelty from consistency. Baby voices and more layered, echoed guitars. Native chanting and drumming. Comus enters a chrysalis and emerges as Aphrodite’s Child. All of the seats were occupied (by layers of echoing sound). 

To be fair, the musicians are pretty tight for all of their looseness, and the sections and transitions possess a lot more dynamic discipline and distinctiveness that it seems. This stands out from a slew of psychedelic-era concept albums that amount to little more than throwing sounds at the wall to see if anything sticks. Speaking of which… I hate to make enemies, but I’d rather hear the 43 minutes of Das Echo Der Zukunft (The Echo Of The Future) once a week for the rest of my life than EVER hear Tubular Bells again. 

Das Echo Der Vergangenheit (Echo of the Past) is probably my least favorite, due to the disjointed a cappella / spoken section – but it may be your MOST favorite, especially if you have a fondness for RIO and / or experimental composers of the Charles Dodge variety. It’s certainly not out of character with the rest of the album, at any rate. And the symphonic conclusion threatens to take us out on a surprisingly Alpine soundtrack note, until the shimmering and ringing drones of pure ambient bliss soothe our eternal night of lucid discovery gently back into the sunlit sleep of waking. 

Rare, beautiful, weird, and utterly immersive in a very unique way… James Lee……….. 

Achim Reichel’s second album from 1972 is a double released the year after “The Green Journey”. This isn’t as good in my opinion and despite the fact there are a lot of guests helping out it doesn’t feel like it. It’s not really that samey and repetitive (although there is that) but it does have the same mood and vibe throughout. It’s somewhat spacey with acoustic and electric guitars leading the way with percussion. There are vocals at times including Klaus Schulze of all people. We get clarinet, sax, jew harp, orchestration and samples. “The Green Journey” was love at first listen while this one is less dynamic and more hypnotic and trippy. 
We get five long tracks over two albums resulting in over an hour and twenty minutes of music. I’ll use the English song titles. “Invitation” opens with sounds that pulse and echo as picked guitar helps out. Strummed guitar joins in before 1 ½ minutes. It builds some. This is good. A calm 5 ½ minutes in with liquid sounds, vocal expressions and other psychedelic meanderings. The guitar is back after 6 ½ minutes as a dark atmosphere comes in. Strings 8 minutes in as orchestral sounds follow. A beat 10 minutes in with eerie spacey sounds. Dissonant sax joins in as the tempo picks up. Guitar too. Great sound before 17 ½ minutes as the guitar rips it up. It’s haunting before 19 minutes as it calms right down. 

“The Echo of The Presence” has these mellow sounds that echo as vocal melodies join in and percussion follows. It picks up with strummed guitar and intricate sounds. Vocals before 4 minutes. It settles after 6 minutes as the vocals continue. It’s spacey too. Vocals stop around 8 minutes as the sound settles back eventually. Spacey sounds pulse to end it. “The Echo Of Time” opens with children talking and their voices echo then the music takes over with guitar out front. Percussion joins in and vocals arrive after 4 minutes. A change 6 ½ minutes in as heavier guitar with twittering sounds and drums take over. The guitar starts to solo over top. Strummed guitar follows. A calm with guitar 9 minutes in. It turns spacey and haunting 11 ½ minutes in with children’s voices too. 

“The Echo Of The Future” has these sparse sounds that come and go then it starts to pick up before 2 minutes. It settles back before 6 minutes with vocal melodies as the guitars are strummed and picked then it picks back up again. A calm before 7 ½ minutes as spoken words and vocal melodies take over. The guitars and percussion join in as the vocals continue and then the vocals stop as music continues. A haunting calm before 13 ½ minutes. “The Echo Of The Past” ends it. This is a bizarre tune as we get lots of vocal expressions where they are the focus. It’s especially strange before 6 minutes with all these vocal sounds. It turns spacey late which I like better. 

A solid 4 stars and a must for Krautrock fans out there. Listen to the echo…… by Mellotron Storm………. 

Krautrock is a strange little subgenre in the world of progressive rock. I am utterly amazed at how varied it is. Bands have distinctly different approaches leading to their strange tripped out worlds. With Can the focus is on the rhythm and percussion, with Agitation Free on the electronic effects and percussion, with Amon Duul II the pummeling bass, hypnotic guitar and crazy vocal antics. Despite all these different strategies the final outcome must be spacey, psychedelic and tripped out. No one achieved that better than A.R. & MACHINES in my opinion. True I have not experienced every single Krautrock band at this point but I have at least sampled quite a few and fully dived into countless others and as of this day no one takes me to Strawberry Fields more than this band led by the former German pop star turned tripmeister extraordinaire. 
On the first album “Die grüne Reise - The Green Journey” the band already succeeded in making one of the trippiest albums I had ever heard but they still included some of the pop song structures from the Rattles days and twisted and echoed them into a somewhat familiar trippiness. On ECHO they let all that go and focus on the most surreal soundscapes they can muster up. Many of the same sound effects can be found on this second release. There are echos and feedback, vocal craziness and pleasant melodies, loops and insanity galore, however these five tracks are long sprawling epics that have distinct segments that morph into one another. 

The long list of instruments come and go as they please. Often they are on the playground together doing their thing in total unity and then one might just drop out and then another join in. It’s all very random but at times very disciplined. Have I mentioned this is turned up to 11 on the trippiness scale? At times this reminds me of proto-psybient like the Shpongle of the 70s. If you like trance inducing soundscapes then check this out. If you can’t deal with repetitive almost drone-like at times instruments pummeling notes into strange patterns then you probably should look somewhere else, but I on the other hand find this hypnotizing and finding myself wanting to listen to this while watching “Alice In Wonderland” on a 3-D TV……by siLLy puPPy………. 

The ambitious follow-up to his playful “Die Grüne Reise” (1971) stretched Achim Reichel’s echo-guitar technique almost to its breaking point, and might have the same effect on the patience of any listener with a low attention span. The guitarist would later say the debut album represented his “künstlerische pubertät” (“artistic puberty”, translating from his own web site). Which would make this one his creative coming of age, marking a dramatic leap to conceptual maturity from the goofy avant-pop exuberance of the first AR&M experiment. 
The music this time was allowed more room to breathe, in longer instrumental workouts evolving over each side of the original twin-LP (to date, and somewhat amazingly, never officially released on compact disc). The rock 'n’ roll energy of the earlier record was muted here in favor of a richer, more adventurous sound, still urgently rhythmic but enhanced by the occasional lush orchestral arrangement, and by contributions from a small battalion of collaborators, including percussionist Hans 'Flipper’ Lampe of LA DÜSSELDORF fame: another link in the six-degree web of Krautrock separation. 

Anyone expecting self-restraint or structure is encouraged to look elsewhere. It requires a long habit of passive concentration (not an oxymoron, for Krautrockers) to fully appreciate the slowly unfolding cycles of melodic arpeggios, superficially resembling the knotted synths and sequencers of early Virgin-era TANGERINE DREAM but performed on guitars, with a more human touch. The arrangement of music was tightly controlled throughout, but like all great cosmic voyages expressed a fearless resolve to embrace unknown vistas and infinite horizons. 

Each side of vinyl, after the twenty-minute “Einladung” (Invitation), was given a suitably portentous title: “The Echo of the Presence”; “The Echo of the Future”, and so forth, all with elaborate sub-chapters hard to pinpoint within the continuous flow of music. But it’s the last side of LP2, “The Echo of the Past”, that pushes the album close to five-star territory, in another wild, ZAPPA-influenced kitchen-sink collage, hypnotic and hilarious at the same time. 

The effect of this final track is like being mesmerized by a clever circus clown, and at first exposure I found myself laughing as hard as I was listening, reminded (in a good way) of THE BEATLES and their notorious “Revolution 9”, albeit assembled with discipline and wit. 

The same comparison probably crossed Reichel’s mind, too. In an unconscious reflection of the album’s title, his career to that point had closely 'echoed’ the Fab Four, dating back to his stint with The Rattles at the Star-Club in Hamburg. Much like The Beatles during their more exploratory later years, Reichel in his Krautrock prime still had the heart of a pop star, but the head of…well, a Head…… by Neu!mann…………… 

Line-up / Musicians 

- Achim Reichel / guitar, vocals 
- Arthur Carstens / jews harp 
- Dicky Tarrach / drums 
- Hans Lampe / percussion 
- Helmuth Franke / guitar 
- Jochen Petersen / saxophone 
- Kalle Trapp / percussion 
- Klaus Schulze / vocals 
- Lemmy Lembrecht / drums, percussion 
- Matti Klatt / vocals 
- Norbert Jacobsen / clarinet 
- Peter Becker / sirenes 
- Rolf Köhler / percussion 
- Peter Hecht / orchestral arrangements 
- Frank Dostal / lyrics 


Einladung (Invitation) (20:15) 
A1 a. Einladung (Invitation)
A2 b. Zu Neuen Abenteuern (To New Adventures)
A3 c. Im Zauberwald Der 7 Sinne (In The Magic Forest Of The 7 Senses)
A4 d. Im Irrgarten Des Geistes (In The Labyrinth Of The Mind)
A5 e. Beim Waltzer Der Triebe (At The Waltz Of The Inclinations)
A6 f. Unter Dem Schwarz-Grün-Roten Banner (Under The Black-Green-Red Banner)
A7 g. Internationalhymne (International Anthem)
Das Echo Der Gegenwart (The Echo Of The Presence) (10:01) 
B1 a. Erwachen Am Ufer (Awakening On The Shore)
B2 b. Vor Dem Haus Am Fuße Des Wachsenden Berges (In Front Of The House At The Growing Mountain)
B3 c. Signale (Signals)
B4 d. Wissen Ist Frühling Im Herbst (Knowledge Is Spring In Autumn)
B5 e. Eisen-Laura Mit Der Lyra (Iron-Laura With The Lyra)
Das Echo Der Zeit (The Echo Of Time) (12:55) 
B6 f. Ich Staune (I Am Astonished)
B7 g. Auf Dem Schlitten (On The Sledge)
B8 h. Ins Echo Der Zeit (To The Echo Of Time)
B9 i. Regenbögen Hinab (Down The Rainbows)
B10 j. Durch Fühlbares, Meßbares Nichts (Through Feelable, Measurable Nothing)
B11 k. Ewiger Abschied Auf Lila Glut (Eternal Farewell On Lilac Ardour)
Das Echo Der Zukunft (The Echo Of The Future) (18:02) 
C1 a. Ahnungen (Suspisions)
C2 b. Beim Tanz Der Elektrischen Winde (At The Dance Of The Electrical Winds)   
C3 c. Vor Der Geburt Der Neuen Dimension (Before The Birth Of A New Dimension)
C4 d. Interstellare Kommunikationen (Interstellar Communications)
C5 e. Das Öffnen Des Großen Torres (The Opening Of The Big Gate)
C6 f. Der Traum Vom Gleichgewicht (The Dream Of Balance)
Das Echo Der Vergangenheit (The Echo Of The Past) (19:25) 
D1 a. Erinnerungen An Übermorgen (Memories Of The Day After Tomorrow)
D2 b. Ad Libido
D3 c. Ego Lego
D4 d. Brennt Wie Ein Licht Am Ende Des Tunnels (Burns Like A Light At The End Of A Tunnel) 

johnkatsmc5, welcome music..







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