The Solo Path of Michael Rother

By Robert Ham I Mar. 27, 2019

The entirety of Solo provides a deluxe reminder of Michael Rother’s impact on modern music.
(Photo: Max Zerrahn)

Though his résumé includes a long and varied solo career, Michael Rother’s work often has been discussed in relation to the more famous ensembles and performers he’s collaborated with. He counts early membership in electronic pioneers Kraftwerk; krautrock duo Neu!, his band with drummer Klaus Dinger; and Harmonia, a collaboration with the members of Cluster and, for a single 1976 session, Brian Eno.

Starting the following year, Rother went marching down paths of his own creation, propelling his motorik rhythms and atmospheric melodies toward mesmerizing boundaries.

Now, Rother’s legacy is getting a proper spotlight turn with the release of Solo, a six-disc box set that compiles the first four LPs that he issued under his own name, as well as a collection of movie soundtrack work and an EP of live material and remixes. It’s a welcome addition to the krautrock canon, but it’s also best consumed in small doses. That might run counter to the binge-listening approach that most luxe releases like this encourage. But heard in quick succession, these albums start to blur together, melting into one long hypnotic, pulsating beat and pealing guitar solo.

Rother landed on the aesthetic sprawled out across the set during his tenure in Neu!, one that he attempts slight variations of throughout the box set’s albums. He occasionally messes with the formula, as on “KM 10,” from 1979’s Katzenmusik, which features an extended intro of squiggling guitar lines, or the pensive opening chords of “Erlkönig,” found on 1982’s Fernwärme. Eventually, though, the chugging drums, provided throughout by Can member Jaki Liebezeit, fade into the mix like a horse at full gallop, just cresting the horizon.

That’s what makes Soundtracks, a disc that includes Rother’s scores for a pair of 2015 films, such a welcome addition to Solo. The hypnotic qualities of his work still are present, but are being used for dramatic effect, via arpeggiated strings and some buzzing synth drones. Even without the filmic visuals, the tension and release—especially in the four sections meant to accompany the crime drama The Robbers—is immediately palpable.

The nuances and emotional fluctuations of each of the studio albums included, though, are best appreciated on an individual basis. All the better to help draw out those splendid moments when Rother adjusts or abandons his formula.

Katzenmusik offers the broadest scope with its occasional formless interludes, skittering, almost disco-like beats and “KM 11,” a mist-covered solo guitar piece. But throughout his first four solo ventures, there are moments that slip away from what’s expected. Liebezeit is given room to show off his remarkable skills on “Zeni,” from Rother’s 1977 debut, Flammende Herzen. The drummer rolls and tumbles steadily through the track, like a pilot sending his prop plane through a bank of storm clouds.

The entirety of Solo also provides a deluxe reminder of Rother’s impact on modern experimental and alternative music. The unyielding beats and psychedelic overtones were borrowed en masse by ‘90s group Stereolab on its early recordings, and the legacy continues with more contemporary artists like LCD Soundsystem and Cut Copy. The Live And Remixes disc finds Rother connected directly with the younger set. One live track is a recording of Hallogallo 2010, his project with former Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley and guitarist Aaron Mullen, who both lean into a clenched, medium-tempo grind. And one of the remixes finds Rother smoothing out the jagged edges of a track by British post-punks Boxed In.

The set also serves as a reminder that Rother’s work didn’t exist in a vacuum. His German contemporaries, like Can and Cluster, were aiming to achieve the same ecstatic effects through repetition. The difference is that those groups also veered into far choppier waters of experimentation and discordance. Rother never seemed to want to be anything else but infinitely listenable. And for the most part, that’s what Solo is, imminently listenable. DB