A: Amon Duul

A: Amon Duul

Krautrock is as good as people say it is. It served a great purpose in the development of music: a simple, motorik beat repeats ad nauseum while minimalist melody unfolds over top, for often a 10+ minute duration of the songs. And apart from that, some of this stuff was just plain great – just try to not love Can’s “Oh Yeah” at about the half-way point. Without krautrock, most electronic music wouldn’t exist and, for that alone, respect is due. Yeah, sometimes the ideas formed didn’t seem to go anywhere. (Example: you can fault Can on some the second half of Tago Mago in the wrong frame of mind.) But, in the right mood, it’s some of the best stuff you’ve ever heard – stretched out minimalism that’s both disorienting and occasionally transcendent.

More than any of their contemporaries, Amon Duul are recognized as the forefathers of the whole krautrock movement. They originally consisted of, what I assume to be, hippie commune burnouts in late 60’s Germany, making appropriately stretched-out and red-eyed rock music on their debut Psychedelic Underground. At the time, psychedelia was just blossoming, but their take on the scene was distinct, unusual, occasionally terrifying/uplifting and incredible. Most popular rock music at the time (Beatles, Stones, Who, etc.) borrowed heavily from American foundations, whereas Amon Duul and the burgeoning krautrock scene favored something unearthly and individual – (poorly recorded) drum circle focused freakouts (try “Ein Wunderhubsches Madchen Traumt Von Sandosa” with time/patience), confounding tape experiments or baroque musings. For my money, Psychedelic Underground may have kick started the krautrock movement, but Amon Duul didn’t move in a different or more exciting direction until they became Amon Duul II.

Amon Duul II’s configuration dropped (some of) the hippie commune vibe for more straight forward rock tropes and way higher production values. Granted, we’re not talking three chord pop songs, but the guitar and therefore song composition began to become more of a focal point. Both Phallus Dei and Yeti are high points for this, balancing experimentation with tunefulness, particularly Dei’s title track and Yeti’s “Soap Shop Rock”, “Archangels Thunderbird” and, even if it’s short, “The Return of Reubezahl”. Amon Duul began to approach a way further out version of Yes. Their turn into songwriting yielded occasional singing that was (and is) pretty embarrassing, but they still honed their flourishing improvisational chops. Particularly on Yeti, my favorite Amon Duul record by a narrow margin, they sound tight as hell on “Yeti (improvisation)”. But listen to the drums – it’s not a krautrock song by definition – they’re playing rock music here.

Unfortunately, in the mid-70’s, Amon Duul took an ill-advised plunge into mainstream songwriting territory, but for a short while there, they were able to balance joyful improvisational power with exuberant songwriting. Thankfully, we have a few records left of the magic: a band that masterfully could span the divide of improv and composition.

Check out: Yeti, Psychedelic Underground, and Phallus Dei.