Faust
So Far

Faust and knowledge.

“I have studied philosophy, law and medicine, and even, unfortunately, theology, from top to bottom with all my strength. And here I am now, poor fool, no wiser than I was before! They call me master, they call me doctor, and already for at least ten years, around and around, going up and down and everywhere, I lead my students by the nose... And still, we cannot know anything!”

Thus begins Johann Faust in the opening monologue of Wolfgang Goethe's work. The old German occultist recognizes the difficulty of having sufficient means to uncover the long-standing mysteries of existence: earthly life is too anchored to its “roots” to allow man to aspire to other types of knowledge.

Faust and knowledge, the eternal aspiration for immortal wisdom.

1971. The scene of German Kraut-Rock. The Germans Faust embody in their name, intent, and musical production the tension of that Faust who has never been abandoned by the German cultural tradition: not only Goethe, but Wagner and Mann also referenced the legendary figure of the doctor through various cultural communication means; they too, among many, and like them the new prophets of late-twentieth-century Kraut-Musik.

It is 1971, through their debut album, which could not have been called anything other than “Faust”, Faust appears as a crushed man, gripped by the awareness of not being able to comprehend the intrinsic meaning of life: “And at the end realize/ That nobody knows/ If it really happened” is a declaration of incapacity to understand and will, the realization of the aporia of contingent means that characterizes man in his continuous quest for knowledge, the end of every illusion of knowledge.

What is the solution? What palliative?

“FAUST: Even Hell has its laws? That’s a good thing. Would there be a way to make a sure pact with you, gentlemen?

MEPHISTOPHELES: What you are promised you will fully enjoy, not one ounce less. But it can't be dealt with in two words, we'll talk about it again shortly; however, for the time being, I earnestly ask you to let me go now.”

The famous deal with the devil. The pact that places in Faust’s hands knowledge and youth, the possibility, in short, of bypassing the earthly limits of mortality.

The light of a compromise in the more mature “So Far” of 1972. Faust stigmatized by Faust, no longer carrying a nihilistic Nietzschean view of existence: through the preliminary notes of the lighthearted “It’s A Rainy Day (Sunshine Girl)”, a carefree invitation to life without any deterrent emerges, a siren with hippy moves finding in common living the motivation for a “limited” existence. The discourse, even clearer through “Mamie Is Blue”, finds its formalization in the masterful finale of the album, where the surreal excursion of “I've Got My Car And My Tv” reaffirms the desire for a return to communion, and equally condemning the sense of individual satisfaction that modern culture has imported, introduces the enlightened and bipartite “Me Lack Space... In The Spirit”, where drawing from the daily sensation of restlessness, the already mentioned invitation to life is reiterated in even more simplistic terms: “Take a peculiar pen and write/ Your own instant/ If somebody talks to you/ Apply for proofs now/ Don’t be satisfied with a lack/ Every time you say goodbye/ You die a little/ Don’t take roots! Don’t retire!”

There’s a bit of Mimnermus, a bit of Boito, a bit of Wagner.

A conceptual complexity that also translates into the versatility of the musical style: the psychedelic soul that pervades all the pieces, so inherent in Faust as to become the principal guise of the enlightened “Kraut-Rock” manifesto a couple of years later, the progressive bends of “Picnic On A Frozen River”, the rock color of “It’s A Rainy Day”, the free-jazz experimentations, the industrial electronic sounds. Kaleidoscopic Faust. A new transition towards the shores of “Faust IV” (apart from the digression of “The Faust Tapes”), the pact with life that does not sell the soul, but enriches it.

Mephistopheles can wait longer.