A documentary film by José Zegarra Holder and Adele Schmidt
Produced by Zeitgeist Media LLC
Featuring: Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Hans-Joachim Roedelius, A.R. & Machines, Agitation Free, Embryo, Nektar. Special appearance: Alan and Steve Freeman.
Total time: 122 min.
The third installment of Adele Schmidt and José Zegarra Holder’s labour of love on the German progressive music scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s comes almost exactly four years after its predecessor, Krautrock 2. The release – eagerly awaited by those who have been following Adele and José’s Romantic Warriors documentary series since its 2015 debut – was delayed by a combination of the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic and a seemingly intractable tangle of legal and other issues. Indeed, the absence of the music of some major bands and artists points to the difficulties encountered by the filmmakers in their endeavour.
Though for the most part dedicated to the Berlin scene – in particular the ground-breaking progressive electronic artists of the “Berlin school” – the film also includes a number of bands and solo artists from other German cities. In fact, the sizeable segment dedicated to the Berlin scene is bookended by sections dedicated to bands whose roots lie elsewhere, but which were included in this third episode because of their affinity with Berlin-based artists. This is the case of Achim Reichel and his project A.R. & Machines (from Hamburg), quintessential cult band Embryo (from Munich), and Anglo-American outfit Nektar, who also began their career in Hamburg.
Compared to the other films in the Krautrock trilogy, Krautrock 3 may come across as somewhat more technical. Indeed, the content of Krautrock 3 resembles its stunning cover, designed by the filmmakers’ daughter, Paloma Zegarra Schmidt, in elegant hues of orange and tan on a black background: somewhat austere yet intricate, with a complex intersection of musical and personal relationships unfolding over decades. This time around there are no expansive views of modern audiences enjoying a weekend of live music in some bucolic forested area. The camera does rarely linger on outdoor spaces (a notable exception being the section about Hans-Joachim Roedelius, Cluster and Harmonia), lending the film an intimate but overall slightly claustrophobic look.
The cover artwork clearly hints at the film’s main thrust – the development of progressive electronic music (often referred to as kosmische Musik, a term coined by Edgar Froese in the early 1970s) in West Berlin, a city whose unique characteristics provided fertile ground to all art forms. While in the 1920s Berlin had been a byword for vice and decadence as much as artistic creativity, in the late 1960s the western half of the divided city was a defiantly libertarian haven that not only allowed unlimited night life, but also offered shelter to draft dodgers. Interestingly, much of the commentary about Berlin – supported by extensive video recordings from that era – comes from the members of a non-Berlin band, the highly politicized Floh de Cologne (featured in the very first Krautrock film). Their recollections bring to life the city’s gritty vibrancy, embodied by the over-the-top antics of Ton Steine Scherben – a militant anarchist outfit originally from West Berlin.
The central part of the film is dominated by the two extensive sections about Tangerine Dream and Klaus Schulze – pioneers of electronic music whose influence has extended well beyond the borders of Germany. The story of Tangerine Dream unfolds through the recollections of guitarist Jerome Froese, Edgar Froese’s son, and keyboardist Johannes Schmoelling, who joined the band in the late 70s – tracing the evolution of the band from a Pink Floyd-inspired outfit to an award-winning, movie-soundtrack juggernaut. Somewhat oddly, though, Tangerine Dream’s decades-long story ends abruptly with Froese’s death in 2015: no mention whatsoever is made of the band’s current incarnation. Klaus Schulze’s traiblazing career and his major role in the development of modern electronic music are also illustrated through the words of some of his collaborators, in particular drummer Harald Grosskopf (formerly with Wallenstein and Ashra).
Purveyors of hypnotic, guitar- and organ-heavy music, Agitation Free create a link between two of the most distinctive musical components of the Krautrock scene – electronic experimentation and the influence of what is now termed “world music”. Though the fascination for India by seminal British rock artists is quite well-documented, Krautrock bands’ intimate contacts with the music of the Middle East, Africa, India and other parts of Asia come across as a more authentic, less trend-driven experience. European-style psychedelia and electronics and the centuries-old musical traditions of those far-flung, often hard to reach parts of the world are revealed to be almost uncannily compatible. In particular, Embryo – a band with its origins in jazz rather than rock – have based their whole career on the constant exploration of sounds outside Europe’s “comfort zone”, embarking on risky field trips as documented in the 1980 film Vagabunden Karawane.
The choice of ending the film (and thus the whole trilogy) with Nektar might appear slightly controversial, especially as the band – now led by the only remaining founding member, Derek “Mo” Moore – have long left their Krautrock roots behind, and embraced a more “mainstream” prog sound. However, it should be remembered that Krautrock (as well as early Pink Floyd) was a major influence on Nektar’s musical output before their split in the late 1970s.
As in the previous two instalments of the series, British brothers and supreme prog connoisseurs Alan and Steve Freeman (of Ultima Thule Records fame) provide plenty of invaluable background information. Markus Reuter – a native German known to many as a member of Tony Levin’s Stick Men – also expounds on his direct experience of the Berlin scene and the influence it had on his own musical journey.
In the six years elapsed between the release of the first Krautrock film and this final episode, many of the protagonists of the original scene have passed away – which adds a layer of poignancy to the trilogy. Two particularly moving moments In Krautrock 3 touch on the often complicated relationship between parents and children. Jerome Froese’s sadness while briefly relating his father’s illness and death lurks beneath his matter-of-fact tone, while Marja Burchard’s solicitous presence beside her father Christian, Embryo’s founder (who died in 2018), feels warm and reassuring. In any case, it is heartwarming to see some of Krautrock’s “elder statesmen” still very much engaged in music-making, introducing a whole new generation of listeners to the rich bounty of that unparalleled historical period.
All in all, Krautrock 3 provides a fitting conclusion to a truly monumental achievement, very far from being a mere nostalgia trip to please a small contingent of stalwart fans. It is to be hoped that this trilogy will raise awareness of the wide variety of progressive and experimental music coming from Germany in those intense years, and the different ways in which many modern artists were inspired by it.
Links:
Fire of Unknown Origin 