What happens when a hard rock band gives up powerful riffs to embrace electronics?
The Notwist raced through the '90s at full speed; on average, they released an album every two years, incorporating as much guitar ferocity and Generation X dissatisfaction as possible.
In fact, their musical turning point began with Shrink, an album in which elements (until then) alien to the band's sound were introduced, even branching into free jazz.
The fury of the German quartet softened to such an extent that the emotions with which the songs were infused managed to emerge with greater pathos.
It is precisely in 2002 that they released their masterpiece par excellence: Neon Golden.
Despite the radical change, their formula of "better to remove than to weigh down" continues to make the sound intimate and accessible.
The guitars are composed, not dominating but complementing the subtle voice of Markus Acher splendidly, right from the opening One Step Inside Doesn’t Mean You Understand. The instrument finds more space and depth in the title track Neon Golden and in One With The Freaks.
This latter gem also finds a place in the soundtrack of the movie L'amico di famiglia (Sorrentino), in an anguishing finale. One With The Freaks showcases depth and frenzy at the same time, a search for humanity in a circus of illusions and disillusions.
The more artificial vein of the project is left to the rhythm of Pick Up The Phone (a successful single), which as usual displays the plurality of intent.
The two sides are represented by coldness and lyrics, seemingly centered on a failed relationship. After repeatedly absorbing the album, I can state from my perspective that the message carries a more universal than romantic nature.
There is alienation from reality and resentment. There is everything with which we are imbued.
Cold electronics and existential dilemma. The two sides that the Notwist have managed to blend with class.
The ending Consequence summarizes and amplifies this sensation, the mood silently explodes with the words “I’m not in this movie, I’m not in this song”. It underscores the consequences of actions, and the piece feels like a litany, an acceptance of loss with a smile and awareness.
In reality, there's nothing to smile about, the melancholy is abundant in this instance that closes the shutters and hands the Notwist their rightful reward.
“Leave me paralyzed, love”
"The Notwist produce songs through the successive addition of parts and fragments carefully sought out, among samples and real guitars, managing to synthesize a totally original form."
"An intimate, delicate album, turned in on itself, that spins on itself, talking about rooms from which one will never leave."
The way in which these ten tracks fuse completely opposite genres is simply astounding.
"This Room," the track we all would have expected from Yorke and company if in 2000 they hadn’t ventured into the experimentation of "Kid A."