Sand
Golem

"According to many, the Golem is an imaginary figure from Jewish mythology and medieval folklore. The term probably derives from the Hebrew word 'gelem,' which means 'raw material' or 'embryo,' a term found in the Bible (Old Testament, Psalm 139:16) to indicate the 'formless mass' that Jews associate with Adam before a soul was infused into him. In modern Hebrew, golem also means robot" Wikipedia

Johannes Vester and the Papenburg brothers, Uli and Ludwig, enter the Berlin temple of Klaus Schulze with their shapeless and lifeless "monster" in hand and come out of the Delta Acoustic laboratory with their "Golem"... alive and animated.

It is 1974 and much of the so-called Krautrock is already public domain, with some like Kraftwerk on the rise, and others like Faust collapsing around their own masterpieces... in between, a cosmic expanse that our heroes begin to traverse on board their "Helicopter." Vester's litanies unravel in the electric flow of a high-voltage cable, and his chants seem to originate from a distant past to teleport us into a futuristic reality governed by the cold binary system of machines, for which the "sermons" of Pink/Roger Waters are now choked in the throat; the "No Future" of Johnny "Rotten" Lydon has become real, and the enslaved work exists at the service of Technology, and the mantric wails of Efrim "Silver Mount Zion" Menuck are just a faded and unknown face on an old photograph. Time and space no longer have any value and even the "Old Loggerhead" (Old Sea Turtle) seems to have thoughts emerging directly from the depths of the Cosmos, dancing in circles inside neurons, diligently aligned, with a falling and perpetual motion.

When all this ends and "When The May Rain Comes" arrives, I am literally amazed by the sweet and tender melancholy of Vester's voice singing about the May drizzle falling on our heads, trying to wash away the armor of metal and circuits we have (allowed to be) built around us, like the tears of a Great Cosmic Mother falling to revive her children lost in technological oblivion. But the "enemy" is around the corner, and immediately the martial advance of the machines is faced with tribal fury in an epic and, at the same time, utterly unserious clash, like in a theatrical-circus-like representation of epic deeds of challenge between dragons and knights. The jester-like humor of "On The Corner" seems almost like a foreshadowing, a prediction... and indeed, here comes "Sarah", which re-ingests us into the bowels of a black hole, and the circuits of the machines assume a tentacular and relentless form creeping back under our skin, taking possession of nerves and muscles, and guiding us once again through our muffled, emotionless journey through the great and cold Technological Cosmos.

The Ancestral Man comes back to life, but it is no longer human life... it's Cyborg.