Einstürzende Neubauten
Silence Is Sexy

THE REVIEW

Twenty years of concerts, self-destruction, noise, records, art rock, social consciousness, energy, and whatnot, this is the New Buildings that Collapse of Blixa Bargeld. The flag bearers of German industrial rock, companions of Nick Cave in many infernal journeys, they face the new millennium with the double album Silence Is Sexy.

It is disorienting and wonderful to find them elegant and rarefied in the elegiac minimalism of Sabrina, a poignant and delicate love song dominated by bass and toms. Then follows the title track for a full six minutes among matches, cigarettes, whispers, small melodies, almost total silences, bass drum hits, whistles, and finally the concert audience screaming "Silence Is Sexy": quite amusing and antithetical but more fooling around than song. Very convincing, however, are the following In Circles and Newtons Gravitätlichkeit: the former is fascinating in its circular nature, although it loses itself a bit in unnecessary cacophonies, and the latter is an irresistible techno-swing with a menacing pace. Then the continuous tempo changes in Zampano are fantastic, which is a reactive industrial like few others. The rhythm falls again in the sentimental and monotonous Heaven is Made of Honey, notable, however, is the mini-reading Beauty, a decadent and ironic interlude recited by Blixa.

From here on, a record that is a monument, not a scratch among the pieces: all coherently beautiful and powerful. Whether it's the heavy electro-blues of Die Befindlichkeit des Landes or the sonic terrorism disguised as tango with sinuous strings in Musetango, it doesn't matter. What matters is that Einstürzende Neubauten still seem to be in a sort of creative ecstasy that should make many contemporary bands angry (first among them the increasingly dull Sonic Youth). The conclusion of CD 1 is left to Total Eclipse of the Sun, as after a sort of circular journey we find ourselves facing a symphonic piece that brings us back to the delicate atmospheres of the initial Sabrina and perhaps even sublimates them.

The second disc is instead a single enormous suite between very wicked industrial and ambient, eighteen minutes of an impossible fusion of sonic attacks and silence. This Pelikanol is epic, even if attention sometimes wanes.

And for God's sake, not every day do albums of such sonic and moral grandeur come out!