Mythos
Dreamlab

It may seem strange, but if it had found the right channel to capture the wider public’s attention, the German scene of cosmic music could have, at the time, had the same impact and importance as English punk. The premises, after all, were more or less similar: if in the United Kingdom two designers decided to impose a lifestyle and a way of thinking along with music, in Germany it was Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser, an influential talent scout, producer, and music critic, who tried the same thing with his cosmic couriers, all linked to the "Kosmische Musik" sub-label of Ohr, which he controlled. In his case too, the music was supposed to become a vehicle for a specific lifestyle based on transcendental meditation, the systemic use of LSD, and personal devotion to space-time abysses, whose pioneers were him and his wife, Gille Lettmann (also known as Sternenmädchen, or the star girl). Obviously, his project was much less accessible than punk, and faced with all kinds of troubles (from the improper use of more or less official recordings artfully assembled by Kaiser himself - such is the case with the Cosmic Jokers - to the turbulent relationship with German law), Kaiser’s dream shattered within a couple of years.

This album by Mythos, dated 1975, could represent a sort of swan song, nevertheless testifying to the richness of the proposal and its exquisite heterogeneity. Indeed, in the cosmic couriers, influences and sounds from the most disparate were converging, from transcendental electronic music in the style of early Tangerine Dream to funky to psychedelia. Of this multicolored scene, Mythos perhaps represented the component most connected to the symphonic rock of the era, not forgetting a dash of folk-rock. The impression, quite surprising, is that of finding oneself in front of a hypothetical formation of Jethro Tull who, around the time of Aqualung, had decided to incorporate Connie Veit of Gila on guitars and Klaus Schulze for electronic embellishments. The result cannot be described as a rock milestone, but the first two albums by Mythos are still a pleasant and engaging listen.

"Dreamlab," the band's second album, opens with the cosmic "Dedicated to Werner von Braun", six minutes of pulsations for guitar, bass, and cymbals that is halfway between Ash Ra Tempel and Popol Vuh, but it is with the following "Message" that a sort of manifesto of Mythos' sound proposal is reached, with its pros and cons: among the pros, the atmospheric and alienating use of electronics in the first part and the almost aggressive dynamism of the second, more relatable to the canons of prog rock, led by a real flute riff preceded by the group singing a cappella (it seems to echo Embryo). Among the cons, definitely the voice, decidedly weak and, one might say, "beery," and the ordinary lyrics, revolving around the concept of cosmic brotherhood and the idea that our ancestors come from Sirius (sic!). However, the band's compositional skills are not at all despicable, so much so that the following epic "Expeditions" could present itself as the definitive cosmic ballad, with its beautiful use of acoustic guitar and delicate flute and electric guitar solos (if one tries to imagine the piece sung by someone else, it surely adds value).

The album enters more bucolic territories, as evidenced by the brief "Mythalgia", an intervention for guitar, mellotron, flute, and synth that strikingly anticipates certain acoustic passages of Iron Maiden, immediately interrupted by the title track, where the flute marks the steps towards a dizzying psychedelic-funky surge, where the synths gurgle and the group unleashes itself before diving into long passages for guitar, flute, and cymbals with a touch of jazz. Unfortunately, the concluding "Eternity" is, upon closer inspection, also the album's weakest track, closely tied to the Jethro Tull model, overly sung, with only a few "phaser" interventions during production to rekindle some cosmic and psychedelic interest. Nonetheless, it's still an enjoyable piece with some instrumental passages of considerable beauty.

With "Dreamlab," Ralf-Ulrich Kaiser’s adventure in the more cosmic territories of krautrock seems to come to an end, perhaps with a less modern flavor than expected, but still appreciable. Unfortunately, Mythos decided to move forward, venturing into decidedly uninteresting mainstream territories (following, in this, the footsteps of their label mates Wallenstein), thus contributing to putting an end to one of the most astonishing adventures (in every sense of the word) in the history of rock.