Marking
it’s 45th anniversary this month is the seventh studio album from
Kraftwerk, The Man-Machine, which was originally released in May of
1978. It would complete the dehumanization process which had begun with
Autobahn and crystallize the band’s image is musical “robots”,
precisely crafting the future of techno-pop music for generations to
come.
While the band’s previous album, Trans Europe Express, did a
lot to streamline and perfect the pulsing electronic rhythms which had
been evolving throughout their previous two albums, particularly with
its groundbreaking title track and their expanded use of step sequencers
and automated rhythms, Man-Machine took those techniques to their
logical conclusion. They enabled the group to achieve a kind of stately
exactitude which had a transcendent quality, ushering the listener into
an alternate mechanical universe. It was like they’d finally
manifested the true “soul” of the automaton and, not only made it live
and breath, but also imbued it with the uncanny ability to bust a
remarkably funky move! The entire album was bursting with a syncopated
dance-ability which had been bubbling up in past releases, but which was
now the dominant force. The opening track in particular, The Robots,
announced itself with such bass shaking authority that it sent listeners
cranking their volume to fully exploit its shuddering groove.
When
I first bought the album, sometime around 1979/80, I brought it over to
my friend’s place because he had a proper hi-fi stereo system. He
aptly pointed out to me how perfect it sounded, with no sense of
acoustics from the natural world. It sounded completely synthetic,
though not at all “plastic” or phony. It was like hearing sound
directly for the first time, like it was being transmitted to your brain
with no interference from the atmosphere, like you were hard-wired. It
was pure and pristine and unaffected. That made it stand out from any
other record I had in my collection, electronic or otherwise. The
uncompromising elegance and precision that was in place throughout every
track put it in a category all its own. There was nothing else that
came close to it.
That distinctiveness carried through to the
artwork and even the promotion of the album, where Kraftwerk had
commissioned the creation of mannequins to be made in their exact
likeness. This allowed them to host two synchronized release events,
one in London and one in NYC, where the former was attended by the group
themselves and the latter was attended by their mannequins. In later
years, they would be evolved to become actual physical robots and then
3D computer generated avatars. Artwork for the cover was produced by
Karl Klefisch, based on the work of the Russian suprematist El Lissitzky
– the words "Inspired by El Lissitzky" are noted on the cover. The back
cover image is an adaptation of a graphic from Lissitzky's book for
children About Two Squares: A Suprematist Tale of Two Squares in Six
Constructions. The image of the band in their coordinated attire also
set a precedent for the group, who would hence-forth always adopt
coordination in their outfits, especially for live presentations.
Strangely,
the album did not sell well when it was initially released, but it
proved to be a sleeper. In the UK, it took until 1982 for it to chart
high enough to become the group’s 2nd best selling record behind
Autobahn. Two singles where released from the album with The Model,
again, becoming a sleeper hit in the early 1980s. It’s like it took a
few years for the world to catch up with Kraftwerk and figure out how
far ahead of the game they were. Of course, the release of Computer
World finally reinforced their visionary comprehension of where
electronic music could go and there’s NOTHING in that world today which
hasn’t built on Kraftwerk’s foundations. The Man-Machine is still my
favorite album from them and its pristine songs hold up time and time
again.
