Kraftwerk
Autobahn

THE REVIEW

The Kraftwerk, known for their "robotic" music, are usually rarely listened to, and excluding the Tour de France 2004 track, it's hard to hear about them in Italy. However, there is little deep exploration of this genre in the country, and this record is, let's say, the launching pad for the Düsseldorf band.

The title track is undoubtedly the most well-known, with the repeated chorus that will become the trademark of Kraftwerk, and especially the sounds of the autobahn—a baroque representation of noises and sounds that, in a long 22 intense minutes, catapults us into the Kraftwerk universe. It’s a must-listen, just this song alone, for the entire electronic and kraut genre of the period. The second, "Kometenmelodie," composed for the Kohoutek comet, is wonderful. The electronics and its musical power in two parts slowly make us want to be there, on the cover, observing the autobahn and its sounds. Never have Kraftwerk expressed themselves like this. The record then moves on to the last two tracks, "Mitternacht" and "Morgenspaziergang." The former is perhaps the weak point of "Autobahn," while the latter is another manifesto of electronics, spatial noises, and art in finding inspiration in every sound from the keyboards and synthesizers—freer and never as "rock" as in this masterpiece.

After this work that propelled them to success, Kraftwerk released many records, among which the legendary "Trans Europe Express" and the various Tour de France mishaps stand out. However, Kraftwerk are these—the early works were a novelty, a new frontier, cynical and repetitive music that actually conveyed sensations, bringing us to the landscapes of the various songs like poetry written by robots: the highway, the tracks, the mechanisms that gradually intertwine with the landscapes as in "Autobahn." The highway, the wheels, those little details that each of us ignores are greatly used, filled with magic, music that speaks for itself—this is "Autobahn," and this is Kraftwerk. 

Maybe someone will say to me that Kraftwerk are repetitive, that only Germans can listen to such boring music, somewhat like when we were asked to study the great writers and poets. This music needs to be listened to; the sacrifice is non-existent. Stop and hear the electronic noises, so sophisticated yet so wonderfully profound—the tracks, the robots, the highway.