Pitchfork

Naming your group in tribute of your musical heroes is typically an activity reserved for cover bands, not a collective trying to forge its own identity. I'm almost inclined to think that Kraftwelt chose their moniker to confuse a buying public curious about the Germanic roots of '80s electro hip- hop. I can just hear the in- store conversations: "What are they called? Uhh.. Kraft... something. Oh yeah, here we are." Then Kraftwelt make a little bank and the confused consumer, hearing the expected cold, inhuman beats but none of the structural genius of the techno pioneers, wonders what all the fuss is about.

Retroish consists of eleven overlong, sequenced pieces which sound as if they were all composed on the 808 drum machine and the 303 synth. Nothing wrong with using vintage equipment, of course, but it's usually a good idea to try and wring something new from it, and these songs are as predictable as the fall television schedule. Each instrumental is made up of the same components: a weak 4/4 bass thud, a pinched, Casio- sounding high hat, something akin to a mellow snare, and two sequenced, lock- step melody lines. Each song begins with one of these elements, and the rest fall in one by one. Eventually, the full piece repeats itself for a few bars before the various parts drop away for a bit and then everything comes together again in the end. Dynamic range is zilch. The pace never varies. And the formula is applied invariably to eleven songs that average about six minutes apiece. It gets old.

There's nothing offensive about it, mind you, and generally, the melodies are pleasant enough with a modicum of catchiness. But Kraftwelt is something like Mouse On Mars completely bereft of any of interesting textures, curious sounds, or sophisticated rhythm structures. That is to say, they're rather boring.