1-0 Reviews

Faust

Albums:

Faust

So Far

The Faust Tapes

Faust IV

71 Minutes of Faust

BBC Sessions +

Links:

Faust: News
Well-organized fan site, with news and updates.

An Incomplete Discography of Faust
Fairly thorough fan site.

Faust

1971

Faust

Personnel:

Werner Diermeier:
drums

Hans-Joachim Irmler:
organ

Gunter Wusthoff:
synthesizer & sax

Rudolf Sosna:
guitar & keyboards

Jean-Herve Peron:
bass

Arnulf Meifert:
drums

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

Faust has never been the kind of record you dissect. There seems to be some kind of plan at work, but not the type of plan left for others to follow. It's not really the type of algorithm that bears any scrutiny; yet here it is 30+ years later, and the blueprint remains intact.

After spending several months in 1970-71 lazing, smoking and existing generally superfluously (on Virgin's check of course), Faust moved their commune to Wümme, western Germany and decided to get serious. By serious, I mean they decided to put to tape the sugarplum visions in their heads (tapped by "journalist"/label scion/full service support system Uwe Nettlebeck) to tape. By sugarplum fairies, I mean acid-damaged prototypes of the New Solution for Music. By music, I mean the notes they played and processed with Kurt Graupner's little black boxes - any resemblance to That Which Had Come Before was not intended. And by Kurt Graupner, I mean the sound wave savior who, perhaps more than any other, was responsible for bringing the group's adventures in hi-fi to acetate.

Representative tracks

Why Don’t You Eat Carrots?: This gets the movement underway with a Knall ('bang', my kliene Kinder). Actually, it’s more like the wake of a small jet, what with the engine roar panned out all over your speakers. In the cockpit, we have “All You Need is Love” and “Satisfaction” blaring, if only to remind you that these guys were at one time human and listening to your music. Upon reaching an altitude of about 120 decibels, our captains decide to let the rather aerodynamic vehicle coast, dropping a vaguely Bill Evans-esque piano interlude before launching a vaguely Zappa-esque groove that features some kind of shinai solo (or maybe one of their homemade synthesizers). I wish I could translate the sheer romantic terror of the thing, but it’s all rather vague.

Meadow Meal: Though the intensity has died down, you’re still in the hall of mirrors. There doesn’t seem to be much reason behind the stuff (other than the "wonderful wooden" variety), and though the by-product may have been skewed art pop along the lines of Throbbing Gristle or Nurse With Wound, the overwhelming vibe here is of playful curiosity rather than oppressive abstraction. After the mystical incantation ("and the guess I get it, and the gate I get it, and the game I get it"), they break into a trashy rock joint, shimmying like Monkees on parade. I suppose they probably couldn’t have kept it down if they’d tried.

Miss Fortune: Probably not Faust’s greatest legacy, but it is a testament to some fairly unadulterated haze-charisma. Recorded live, it consists of two rock-ish-esque (?) instrumentals (filtered through Faust’s little black boxes, of course), and one fantastic piece of prose set to a ghostly backdrop of acoustic guitar and admirably understated shakers. "And at the end, realize that nobody knows if it really happened." And at the end, I say "amen".

So Far

1972

So Far

Personnel:

Werner Diermeier:
drums

Hans-Joachim Irmler:
organ

Gunter Wusthoff:
synthesizer & sax

Rudolf Sosna:
guitar & keyboards

Jean-Herve Peron:
bass

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

So Far was where the press (underground, or whomever it was covering them at the time -- probably just Ian MacDonald) caught up. The band’s first record wasn’t a hit by any stretch, but it was freakish enough to warrant record company meddling the second time around. With a small sect of the world waiting, the band retreated to Wümme again, presumably with the intention of making an album that you could at least play while sober.

Some of the music sounds halfway normal (you know, small-children-in-a-dark-studio-with-bipolar-musos-to-the-tune-of-a-DeVry-commercial normal), and the last tune even tells you how many toes and ears you have! It also asks, "I wonder how long this is gonna last?" and if I didn’t know the original Faust lasted two or three more years, I’d say about 10 minutes. In the end, both history and I were wrong, because this album has outrun all the detox statistics by maintaining a permanent place in the hearts of seemingly normal people everywhere. OK, so it’s probably mostly greasy lo-fi musicians and acidheads, but you know, there are times when it doesn’t pay to know the difference.

Representative tracks

It’s A Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl: The steady tom toms and insistent rhythm guitar don't initially seem to be the work of the voodoo shamans on the last album – or maybe they do, but under pressure perhaps Faust just betray their VU roots more readily (and simultaneously earn their Krautrock merit badges). But where there had been chaos, now there was tranquility; where there had grown paranoia and Dadaism, suddenly spouted mystique and atmosphere. A good start, but stay tuned.

No Harm: Begins with a drawn out crescendo into a horn-driven instrumental. That’s about as much as I can say about it. It’s sort of indistinct, but in the context of the album, and coming from this band, it seems either very campy and strange, or oddly comfortable. In any case, the feeling doesn’t last long, as three minutes in the tune becomes feverish blues-rock, with the phrase "Daddy take the banana, tomorrow is Sunday" repeated ad nauseam. You know Faust, right?

The Faust Tapes

1973

The Faust Tapes

Personnel:

Werner Diermeier:
drums

Hans-Joachim Irmler:
organ

Gunter Wusthoff:
synthesizer & sax

Rudolf Sosna:
guitar & keyboards

Jean-Herve Peron:
bass

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

The Faust Tapes was not actually intended for official release, but was a collection of home recordings made by the band for friends. It was bought cheaply by the then-fledgling Virgin label, and sold for half a pound in English record shops. Incredibly, the album sold 50,000 copies, and for a time, every Tom, Dick and Mumsy was in earshot of real out-there, freakout, 100% mind-bending stuff. Talk about subversive, and the best thing about it is that it still stands up today.

This album, along with their first two official releases, makes a strong argument that rock music needn't require abundant technical proficiency or an arch concept in order to be considered progressive or avant-garde. Ultimately, it may just need a love of music, an open mind, and an eye to the future. Faust had those things in spades.

Representative tracks

The Faust Tapes: The record consists of one track with "26 passages". Some of the passages are short bursts of noise, hyped-up saxes, anarchic drums, or psychedelic echo sessions, but the majority of the music here is something else entirely. Gil Evans inspired noir-jazz, whimsical magical mystery pop, gentle acoustic guitar interludes, garage rock, funky trash RnB, pensive piano solos, found sound, telephone conversations — it's all over the map. It may sound like a lot to take in one sitting, and truthfully, if you have a distaste for experimental music, it may put you off. However, this is, at its core, fun stuff, and is certainly not 'noisy' in the manner of, say, early Boredoms (or even noisier Henry Cow).

Faust IV

1974

Faust IV

Personnel:

Diermeier, Irmler, Wusthoff, Sosna, Peron

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

Faust's final proper release of the 70s finds the band streamlining their sound a bit, though retaining thier maverick spirit.

Today, Faust IV is a favorite of many Faust fans, but at the time it was seen as major step downwards from the frenetic whimsy of the band's early releases. The album largely eschews the cut-and-paste aesthetic of Tapes for a kind of off-center pop sensibility. This isn't exactly radio fare, but is doubtlessly less likely to drive your straight roommate insane than the earlier stuff.

The group abandoned their fabled schoolhouse studio in Wümme for the major league treatment at Virgin, Ltd.'s facilities. Ironically, the quality of the recording is affected very little. It could be that the reaction to this record at the time of its release was due as much to a perceived loss of credibility than to any compromise of the band's sound.

Representative tracks

Krautrock: Churning, tumbling trance rock that coined the term that was henceforth applied (with gross generalization) to a wave of experimental German bands from the early and mid-70s. This one clock in at around 12 minutes, and mines similar territory as countrymen Neu!, with washes of electronic sound thrown into a rhythmic blender, set to a repetitive spin cycle. However, this isn't quite the streamlined ambience of the other band, but rather a boisterous, almost punkish rock mantra. Julian Cope calls it "fuzzy", and that about sums it up.

Picnic on a Frozen River, Deuxieme Tableaux: "Giggy Smile", mistitled. Faux-blues shuffle that is very reminiscent of early Zappa -- almost sincerely jamming down to some pretty ridiculous lyrics. Is it a parody? Can they really play? Do they really want to be Germany's ZZ Top? Anyways, midway through, the whole thing turns into a bouncy, synth-led pop vamp for no other reason than to show you they're still Faust.

71 Minutes of Faust

1996
(from 1971-75)

71 Minutes of Faust

Personnel:

Diermeier, Irmler, Wusthoff, Sosna, Peron

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

Album containing two of the band's unreleased LPs, Return of a Legend (minus one track), and Faust Party 3.

During its brief existence, Faust was remarkably prolific, releasing four albums, and recording much more. The first half of this CD is actually most of the album that was to follow Faust IV, and was released on its own as The Last LP in 1989. The music is similar to IV, with little of the collage-effect of the early albums, instead focusing on longer, often atmospheric pieces of trancerock (if not the more pop-oriented side of the band). Most of this was recorded in a hectic 1973 session at the expense of two of the members' mothers (!).

The second half is comprised of the original Faust party tapes, some of which appeared on the official releases, in various forms, versions, etc. These were from 1971, and are good examples of the group's early style.

Representative tracks

Munic B: Extended trance-rock piece, utilizing electronics and primal propulsion in much the same way as Babaluma-era Can. Faust never had the technical ability of that band, but manage to concoct a similarly otherworldly atmosphere -- guitar lines race relentlessly, a horn bleats Milesesque, and the whole thing gallops into darkness far sooner than you think.

Party 8: Droning distorted guitars introduce a very off-center, electro-powered groove (imagine driving a car with a square wheel, and you're almost there). Anyways, the guitar pushes forward, riffing away, when it all gets smeered by a nasty vinyl rip, and the collage police enter. After a little craziness someone tries to a speech-impaired person not to "retire", and the droning takes up again. Schizo, and would Faust have it any other way?

BBC Sessions +

2001

BBC Sessions +

Personnel:

Diermeier, Irmler, Wusthoff, Sosna, Peron

with
Kurt Graupner:
engineer

BBC Sessions + collects any remaining material not issued on the first three proper Faust studio albums or 71 Minutes, and adds some music in alternate mixes that appeared elsewhere. The disc had previously only been available as part of the absolutely essential Wümme Years box set, but has now been issued separately, I guess for anyone who has all the remastered original albums and yet didn't buy the box. No guilt trip here though, because this album works well on its own, even if you still have no excuse for not owning all the proper albums.

As a whole, this album makes absolutely no sense, pulling elements from several great Faust releases, but seemingly randomly as if the whole thing is just an excuse to cull everything that didn't fit anywhere else. And who knows, maybe that's what it is, but I prefer to think of it as the most recent in a line of efforts to bring out every piece of music from the band's classic era to the fore. Of course, I would strongly urge anyone who hasn't heard the proper albums to check those out well before delving into BBC Sessions +.

Representative tracks

BBC 1.3.73: Containing "The Lurcher," "Kraut Rock" and "Do So," this was put together by the band for broadcast on a BBC radio show. It's not a live Faust performance, and in fact, it contains some previously released material, albeit with alternate mixes. "The Lurcher" is an atypically appropriately titled funk-rock tune, featuring Peron's maxi-bass and some very nice sax work. "Kraut Rock," to my ears, is the same as the first song on Faust IV, though it's mixed slightly differently, perhaps a bit less claustrophobic. "Do So" is an elongated version of the "Stretch Out Time" section of The Faust Tapes.

We Are the Hallo Men: This tune originally appeared on a 1986 release, Munich and Elsewhere, which was later compiled on 71 Minutes. "Hallo Men," however, was left off 71 Minutes due to space considerations, so its tripped-out gutbucket funk was prematurely hidden from the ears of 21st Century fans. Phased mellotron and stream-of-consciousness proclamations give it that extra jais ne se quoi of all the best Faust music.

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