Einstürzende Neubauten – Rampen (apm: alien pop music)

Potomak

I’ve been a fan of Einstürzende Neubauten since the ’80s, seen the amphetamine-fuelled destruction of yore break apart to let in lots of melodic tinkerings.

Each subsequent album teetering between this rough’n’smooth threshold, the best a balancing act between; and this latest sparsely packaged artefact, revisiting that Zickzack spidery black text and that ever-present dancing primitive swamped here by an acidic yellow, harbours some seriously lovely junkyard / alt-pop moments.

Straight off, the first two tracks are flipping ace; that blunt patter of plastic tubes on “Wie Lange Noch” gives me a distinctive nod to years gone by, reconnecting me in part to a mellowed-out “Ich Bin’s”, complete with a sparking zip-wire sizzle that nestles nicely between Blixa Bargeld’s anchoring voice. A voice that has only got better with the passing of time, and one that still hooks you into the frame with its restless intelligence.

Closely following on, the percussively daggered beast that is “Ist Ist” is a true album standout, exploding in some impressive throat violence and clattering metallics. For here on in the album opens up to let in some gorgeous songsmithery, the type the group have been finely tuning ever since Ende Neu’s “The Garden”.

“Pestalozzi”’s catchy hook in particular elevating the bland observational everyday to an artform; then much later “Planet Umbra”s’ soft jiving equilibrium delivering one of Neubauten’s best earworms to date. Tracks dirtied up with plenty of industrialised subtly; and I’ve got to say as a EN fanboy, this is a satisfying ride — nothing drags or falls foul of its invention, but glows in your mind like an aperture hungry for more.

The swan-like glide of “Es Könnte Sein”‘s texturally smothered whisper, building up to swollen tides of controlled chaos and robotic-like repeats. The quiet creep of “Before I Go” introspectively itching an OCD need – something I’m certainly afflicted with. The later tracks losing themselves to a more experimental verve, incised by a salty improvised slant.

The dark fruit of “Ick Wees Nich (Noch Nich)” bringing on “DNS-Wasserturm” comparisons. The waltzing whir-chunked hex of “Trilobiten” all picked-string flamenco circling barefoot to smacked wooden spiralling tensions. A beautifully dark intoxicated flavour like some weirded-out distillation of “Salamandrina” that slips easily into the levitating eeriness of “Gesundbrunnen” — a finale that spectres in compressor-curled drill and an “Armenia”-like scream thrown to a harmonious chorus.

Rampen is a delight that keeps giving and one that gets me wanting to re-visit everything they’ve ever done.

-Michael Rodham-Heaps-