Originally published in 2000, and re-issued in the wake of his litigation with former band 'mates'(term used very loosely), "Kraftwerk: I Was A Robot" is a quite remarkable memoir that's roughly equal parts autobiography and critical analysis of his work with famous ex-employers from WOLFGANG FLUR, who was of course one quarter of the world's most influential electronic band from 1973 - 1987.
Indeed, what may well be the biggest surprise of all to those of us who always believed Kraftwerk to be as icy and precise as humans as their glacially perfect music suggested, is that electronic percussonist Flur comes across as a wholly warm, approachable and passionate individual who loves life, romance, nature and music to the nth degree. He is the very antithesis of the emotion-free 'man machine' image that Kraftwerk cultivated to perfection during their creative heyday of the 1970s and '80s and is never less than frank, open and honest as he tells his story (roughly) chronologically, while finding the space for numerous personal asides along the way. His style is literate enough, but conversational and his recollections are never less than engaging, occasionally bordering on outrageous.
Not that Kraftwerk's story is exactly a 24-7 orgiastic experience to rival the likes of Keith Richards, Lemmy or even Peter Doherty, but it does nonetheless have its' fair share of thrills and spills, and while the band's obsession with technological expertise informs the pioneering growth of their music to a degree, they weren't (especially in the case of the author and Karl Bartos) exactly slow on the uptake where hedonism and the opposite sex were concerned either. Actually, most of Flur's best anecdotes come from the band's extensive touring during the years 1975 - 1981. I won't spoil them for you, but certainly Wolfgang's sexual encounters in both LA and - of all places - communist era Budapest (circa 1981) make memorable reading, as do his descriptions of the group's partying at their Berger Allee flat/ HQ in Dusseldorf. For all the clinical precision of their music, once you've read this material you'll never think of Kraftwerk as asexual eunuchs/ robots ever again, that's for sure.
Flur's recollections of his early life are equally fascinating. We read of a boy with normal interests from a relatively affectionate family (save for an austere Father who would never give Wolfgang the love he desperately required) who experiences the normal teenage urges. He goes on to join a shit-hot Beatles covers band and later becomes a Mod before plying the fringes of the surprisingly creative German prog-rock scene in the late '60s and early '70s, still looking curiously like a ringer for Keith Moon as he plays drums in his early bands Fruit And The Spirits Of Sound in the book's extensive photographic section. We also learn of how Wolfgang was recruited into Kraftwerk by the band's founding duo Florian Schnieder and Ralf Hutter while still working in an architect's office and of how he pioneered the world's first electronic drumpad: an invention which would later prove a serious bone of legal contention between the author and Messrs. Hutter and Schneider.
|
Indeed, such is the extent of the author and his previous colleagues/ employers' estrangement in the years following Flur's departure from Kraftwerk in 1987 that I would seriously suggest to anyone wanting to preserve their belief in the band as a quartet in perfect harmony not to read "I Was A Robot". Because, if you choose to, whatever respect you may previously have harboured for Messrs. Hutter and Schneider as humans as well as pioneering electronic musicians will quickly evaporate. Hutter's feverish obsession with competitive cycling to the detriment of his band is galling enough, but nevertheless his prerogative. The conniving way he and Schnieder effectively run a Stalinistic campaign to literally remove all traces of both Flur and Bartos from the band's history, is however enough to make any long term Kraftwerk fan's blood boil, and their subsequent attempts to muzzle Wolfgang through legal threats border on megalomania. That they should besmirch their own magnificent musical reputation is horrific, but that Flur responds with such dignity and moves ahead to make his own fascinating electro-pop records with Yamo nonetheless provides us with a happy ending.
"Kraftwerk: I Was A Robot", then, is a gripping tome that balances the factual and anecdotal pretty much to perfection. It's a credit to Wolfgang Flur's tenacity, spirit and determination that he overcame the legal ramifications to get his book published at all, and his story is one that hooks you in right from the start. He is the robot who rebelled out of necessity and he's come in from the mechanised cold of his past with heart and soul intact. Respect and admiration are due.
|
