Can - veird, vonderful, wisionary music

I recall the hours I spent in the Eighties listening to the weird and delightful sounds of Can, a visionary band from the late Sixties and early Seventies. Alas, their albums went the way of all vinyl, and I am pleased to see that Can’s brilliant music has recently been made available on iTunes. I immediately picked up my three favorite albums, Monster Movie, Tago Mago, and Future Days. (Ege Bamyasi, from the same period as Tago Mago, is also highly recommended, and the band’s most accessible album.)

Here are a few thoughts about Can and what their music has meant. The band was remarkable is several respects. While they started out as a psychodelic product of the late Sixties with strong echos of the Velvet Underground, they quickly broke new ground. Two of their four core members had studied with Stockhausen and Ligeti, and were “serious” modern classical musicians and composers (Holger Czukay and Irmin Schmidt). After a trip to NYC, they decided that rock music provided the more interesting field for artistic expression, and they formed Can (originally known as “The Can”). This doesn’t mean that you will hear twelve-tone counterpoints, but there are certainly passages that defy conventional tonality and that are experimental. Another remarkable aspect of their music is that it is largely improvisational, an influence of the modern “new” jazz their drummer Jaki Liebezeit had played. Yet the music is disciplined and minimalist. This improvisational quality is particularly apparent in Can’s two vocalists, Malcolm Mooney and Damo Suzuki (the NYC band Mooney Suzuki is named in tribute to them). And that brings up the next remarkable thing about Can: The extraordinary influence they have exerted on progressive, avant-garde, experimental, and ambient music (Wikipedia lists some of the many acts who have cited Can as their influence). Two more remarkable things about Can: Their music changed from album to album. By the time of Future Days, they were exploring electronic and ambient soundscapes that would not become part of the mainstream until twenty years later. And Can’s musicianship was just astonishing. Their drummer, Jaki Liebezeit must be one of the all time great drummers and if you are into that sort of thing, you will get endless pleasure from hearing him lay down steady and irresistible grooves, along with Czukay, the bassist. The other band members, including guitarist Michael Karoli (who was Czukay’s guitar student before he was invited to joint the band), are equally amazing, and while the music is often weird and far-out it is deeply satisfying and beautiful (after you develop a taste for it). Until the mid-seventies, Can recorded all their music on a two-track tape recorder in a room the walls of which were hung with dozens of old mattresses. No multitracking.

There is also the most delightful folklore surrounding Can, most of it probably apocryphal. Like the story that when the band recorded their mind-blowing classic Yoo Doo Right (you can hear a ten-minute excerpt on youtube), the clock in the studio would stop whenever Karoli stopped playing and would start again as he started. The track represents another of Can’s innovation: it’s probably the first track edited down from a longer improvisational session. 10 hours of a mad groove compressed into 19 minutes, the length of one side of vinyl. (Yoo Doo Right is on Monster Movie, and has been covered several times, if you’ll believe it.) The original singer, Malcom Mooney, a sculptor from New York, left the band in 1970 on the advice of his doctors, who feared an impairment of his mental health if he continued to play with Can.

Anyway, here is to the grandfathers of prog, ambient, trance/house, and several other genres. If you’ll give Can a listen, you won’t believe how cutting-edge the music still sounds, after nearly forty years.

Some youtube can weirdness:
Mother Sky
Spoon (their one mildly successful, almost commercial track)
Moonshake (almost a pop song; from Future Days)
Short version of Halleluhwah (from Tago Mago - it’s over 18 minutes on the album)

Give a shout if you are a Can fan, too. :slight_smile:

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Well now,

A blast from the past if ever there was one.

I would not consider myself a fan as such but a great friend of mine back in the Seventies was a huge fan and those You Tube clips brought a lot of memories back. I had not really thought about Can for many years but I can see the Blooms point about the breadth of their influence on so many for so long. Very interesting listening after all these years.

Now I gotta find me some Hatfield and the North…there was a band and a half :wink:

Slan,
D.

Wow, I had not heard of Can before, but listening now, I can definitely hear
the influence on other bands. The White Stripes certainly listened to them.
(Good grief, as the Wiki link says, even Kanye West sampled them.)

Plenty on the youtubes, if it helps.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=KGjRhhggSFo

You guys are introducing me to some interesting music.

Here you go: Hatfield and the North. (A bit too prog for me, too straight faced, if you know what I mean.)

Glad to see though that at least someone has heard of Can. :slight_smile:

Now I gotta find me some Hatfield and the North…there was a band and a half

Hehe I was big time into those, Rotters Club and all that. Still have the LPs Saw them a number of times. Listened a lot to that Canterbury scene music, Caravan, Matching Mole, Robert Wyatt, Egg etc.


You beat me to it.

Last night I also downloaded Ege Bamyasi and Soon over Babalooma, which I hadn’t heard much previously. It has a track that in 1974 (!) perfectly lays out the blueprint for the techno beat (except that it’s a human drummer, not a drum machine).

Ege Bamyasi might be the place to start if anyone wants to take the plunge.

I want to like them, but must admit it’s not for me. When I first started reading the thread, for one moment I thought we were going to talk about Canned Heat. Guess I’m just too old for this other stuff. The 70s were a bizarre musical period for me and the 80s brought a baby, with no time for music. I missed all this. (During the early 70s I went on a completely twisted musical journey into Andy Williams shudder, Frank Sinatra, Gabor Szabo, and other oddities for a person in her early 20s at that time. The mid 70s brought me the Amazing Rhythm Aces and Dan Fogelberg, however, so it wasn’t a completely lost decade.)

Susan

It’s funny how Mao’s Little Red Book, the Fifth Column, and stuff like that were cultural staples in the Seventies and have now completely disappeared. You tell the young people of today that, and they stare at you blankly. I doubt they remember who Mao was.

I don’t remember anything between '67 and '92

I wonder what ever happened to Hawkwind?

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It was all down hill after M. Moorcock left.

The last album I bought was Damnation Alley, after that, I was unable to find anything else.

To make a long story short..

I was in the Stadium in Dublin, waiting to hear The Heat and this skinny starving POS, gets up in front of the Mic and sez..the usual..hello, hello, hello…

A wit in the crowd said..“Jayzuz Bob..you’ve lost some weight”

One of those times when ye gotta be there..

Slan,
D. :slight_smile:

I did not listen to music in the 80’s. For some reason. Something about diapers, maybe, I think.

No, not entirely true. My honeymoon was in August 1984. Something possessed my husband to buy the Michael Jackson Thriller cd…cd? No. Must’ve been a cassette. Anyway, in the throes of early marital bliss I tolerated his playing it from Annapolis to Québec. Yep.


amended to add: Once, during the 80’s, I toyed with the notion of being cool and cutting edge and bought an album recommended I can’t remember where. I can’t even remember what the group was called, but I think they’re from Iceland and have a name like Weür Kooler*…or something. That’s not it. It’s in the car, but I lost the cd cover. It doesn’t say anything on the cd itself–it’s just grey, and has a line drawing of what appears to be a Close Encounters Alien fetus (I think with wings.)
I haven’t listened to it in forever. See, I realized (what I’d long suspected,)–that I’m a dork and why fight it.

*Sigur Ros? Does that sound right?

70s… I was listening/playing Tull-I can still play this on piano, and I still love it all, it’s hard to pick just one, so I’ll pick two-

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Gonhi1GMszk&feature=related

I played this one for my brother’s wedding-it was the processional

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=YbuD75727Uw&feature=related

and Bo Hansson-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZKJ5APDP1E&feature=related

and Canned Heat-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OrljWGIHB7c

Well, you didn’t miss much!

amended to add: Once, during the 80’s, I toyed with the notion of being cool and cutting edge and bought an album recommended I can’t remember where. I can’t even remember what the group was called, but I think they’re from Iceland and have a name like Weür Kooler*…or something. That’s not it. It’s in the car, but I lost the cd cover. It doesn’t say anything on the cd itself–it’s just grey, and has a line drawing of what appears to be a Close Encounters Alien fetus (I think with wings.)
I haven’t listened to it in forever. See, I realized (what I’d long suspected,)–that I’m a dork and why fight it.

*Sigur Ros? Does that sound right?

Sounds right enough to find them on the web: YouTube has a few cuts, including this one with a video about homophobia that seems quaint and bit simple although it’s only 7 years old. I like the sound well enough, though, while in a patient mood. They use tin whistle on occasion, it seems.

Oh goodness, Jethro Tull. I am not (very) ashamed to admit that I listened to them a lot, too. The later stuff, I guess, particularly The Minstrel in the Gallery, Aqualung (of course), and Songs From the Wood. But my all-time favorite Jethro Tull album is Thick as a Brick. The original LP cover, which I cherished (I know, I know), might still be sitting in a moldy basement somewhere in Europe, appreciating.

The legends worded in the ancient tribal hymn lie cradled in the seagull’s call.
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist’s fall.
The poet and the wise man stand behind the gun
and signal for the crack of dawn.
Light the sun.



But where the hell was Biggles
When you needed him last Saturday?
And where are all the sportsmen
Who always pulled you through?
They’re all resting down in Cornwall
Writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
Of the Boy Scout Manual

Of course…
So you ride yourselves over the fields
And you make all your animals deals
And you wise men don’t know how it feels
To be thick as a brick

That’s all frou-frou compared with Can, though.