Pitchfork

After 1981's Computer World, Kraftwerk were anxious to begin work on their next LP. Perhaps spurred on by the warm reception (after a short of period of inactivity), Ralf Hutter, Florian Schneider, Karl Bartos and Wolfgang Flur set out working on a forthcoming album, to be titled Technopop. Technopop was to feature songs including its title track and "Sex Object", which would later surface on 1986's Electric Café. Its first single was to have been "Tour de France", and that track was in fact released in 1983. However, Technopop was not to be: due to a series of circumstances-- not least of which, Hutter's bicycle accident, which kept him out of serious action for the better part of a year-- the band decided to stretch their deadline, incorporate a few more state-of-1986 recording techniques (including, gasp, sampling) and concentrate their full length ideas on Electric Café. "Tour de France"-- not a particularly classic entry in their singles catalog in the first place-- was left to drift into nothingness, and all was tidily swept under the mouse pad.

But you know Kraftwerk have never been ones to let perfectly customizable data lay unaltered. From the time Hutter and Schneider hooked up in Düsseldorf in the late 60s to their heyday of the late 70s/early 80s and on through their complete catalog reworking (1991's The Mix), Kraftwerk have been a model of efficiently planned obsolescence. Taking a page from fellow tech-freak George Lucas (and Bill Gates for that matter), they don't even want to make their earliest releases available, making sure all client-side installations have been successfully updated to the most recent Kraftwerk sound.

To their credit, Kraftwerk have a knack for emphasizing their best ideas, as almost all of their records from Autobahn until Computer World are dazzling specimens of the single-minded desire to progress, and the synergy of four pretty distinct individuals. What's more, they're pop. Unlike virtually any other band from the first wave of Krautrock, Kraftwerk produced music that worked as both experimental museum piece and a dancefloor (or living room) beacon. They are like the Beatles of electronic music: inspirations to NPR coffee talkers, crusty academic types and regular folks who just want to get robotic every now and again.

So what a disappointment it must seem to witness the band rework "Tour de France" and slap a few new tracks down for their "new" LP, a soundtrack to the annual cycling event. I mean, in this fertile era for electronic music, when so many sounds seem ripe for the next revolution, you would think the godfathers of the genre would be serving up more than leftovers for our digital consumption. In fact, when the three-part "Tour de France" single was released earlier this year, many fans were disappointed: it would take more than modern tweaking to turn its thin melody and almost non-existent lyrical concerns (even for Kraftwerk) into something interesting. Bet step back-- perhaps surprisingly, Kraftwerk still have a few tricks up their sleeves. Their latest LP may not pack the same fortune-telling punch of their classic records, but it is nevertheless a distinctly engaging, sophisticated experience. And I think "sophisticated" is ultimately the perfect word for Kraftwerk, able to forge beautiful, instinctively appealing sounds out of mercilessly mechanical processes.

After the short synth-driven "Prologue", the album begins with the title track, divided into three parts. "Tour de France Etape 1" starts as a fairly quick, light splash of microhouse featuring patented vocoder vocalizations stating the title, and various stages of the actual race. There really isn't a melody per se, except for a recurring synth line sounding not unlike one of the perky jingles used as the soundtrack for your computer booting up. "Etape 2" modifies the texture slightly, with flanged effects panning across the mix and subtle harmony vocals, but otherwise proceeds unchanged; "Etape 3" drops a glittery, arpeggiated synth figure to start, but soon returns to the main theme of the first section. All three pieces are clearly part of one large "Tour de France" mega-mix, and probably work best when you opt to appreciate the small details instead of looking for epiphanies in the beats or hooks.

Things get a lot more active on the second half of the record, as tunes like "Vitamin" and "Aero Dynamik"/"Titanium" sparkle from the ever-pristine Kraftwerk polish. The latter tunes are practically perfect realizations of the power of a minimal, uncluttered mix of activity when you know how to highlight a beat (hint: they do). The calculated resonance of each percussive ping probably deserves its own article in a journal for electronic music, but we're free to just let them go by and by and by. "Vitamin" begins with an extroverted, constantly modulated synth line and fluttery, reverb-drenched chord cluster over which a patented Kraftwerk bot-beat runs its course. Similar to the title suite, the song works its magic via a repetitive power of persuasion, and also similarly features an optimistic, recurring melody.

Perhaps the only really disappointing aspect of Tour de France-- beyond the still-not-that-great version of the title song (which ends the album)-- is that it emits a muted, comfortable aura rather than the immediately striking tone of their classic releases. In the end, that probably won't make much difference in your enjoyment of this music, but if first impressions are very important, it could be a potential turn-off for those expecting a return to Kraftwerk's trailblazing status. Sure, they might not ever be heads of the class again, but when you own the school, smart students will probably listen to what you have to say anyway.