Kreidler:
ABC:
Bureau B:
Out Now:
CD/download:
★★★★★★★☆☆☆
Blazing a trail in a land of itchy, twitchy progressive electronica (and there's a lot of it about) is Kreidler who are celebrating two decades of existence with this engaging six-track album. Sharing their name with the celebrated race-winning German motorcycle firm of the seventies, this Kreidler has another quality in common with the bike firm - precision engineering, reliable and a consummate performance.
Much like its predecessor Den, only better, the lumbering almost sexy languidness of ABC is infectious. Opening salvos Nino and Alphabet set the tone with minimal mesmerising rhythms and shimmering synths, even some brief spoken-word passages and flatulent bass emittance most often suited to '90s club-culture, rather than cosmopolitan European analog/digital experimentation.
The beats are ramped up even more for Modul, the most danceable motorik portion of the album, while Ceramic could be an out-take from Cabaret Voltaire's The Crackdown-era. Each track builds into a climax of sorts, without the need for guitar solos or vocal histrionics, before concluding with an element of serenity and a confident intake of breath, ready for the next piece. Like other Bureau B acts such as Solyst and Roedelius, Kreidler's machines are relied upon to generate emotions without irksome motifs or provincial pretence.
ABC:
Bureau B:
Out Now:
CD/download:
★★★★★★★☆☆☆
Blazing a trail in a land of itchy, twitchy progressive electronica (and there's a lot of it about) is Kreidler who are celebrating two decades of existence with this engaging six-track album. Sharing their name with the celebrated race-winning German motorcycle firm of the seventies, this Kreidler has another quality in common with the bike firm - precision engineering, reliable and a consummate performance.
Much like its predecessor Den, only better, the lumbering almost sexy languidness of ABC is infectious. Opening salvos Nino and Alphabet set the tone with minimal mesmerising rhythms and shimmering synths, even some brief spoken-word passages and flatulent bass emittance most often suited to '90s club-culture, rather than cosmopolitan European analog/digital experimentation.
The beats are ramped up even more for Modul, the most danceable motorik portion of the album, while Ceramic could be an out-take from Cabaret Voltaire's The Crackdown-era. Each track builds into a climax of sorts, without the need for guitar solos or vocal histrionics, before concluding with an element of serenity and a confident intake of breath, ready for the next piece. Like other Bureau B acts such as Solyst and Roedelius, Kreidler's machines are relied upon to generate emotions without irksome motifs or provincial pretence.