Setting out to listen to this release, I kept in mind A.J. Kaufmann’s excellent debut album, Second Hand Man, which was not only packed to the brim with great original songs and influences—including Dylan—but was also brilliantly produced. Naturally, I was very curious to see what this artist had to offer this time after joining forces with his partner under the banner of Sauer Adler.
Revelation consists of nine tracks (one composition appears in two versions), taking the listener on a journey that lasts roughly three-quarters of an hour. Categorizing this music poses quite a challenge, which I see as a major plus, as I dislike anything that fits neatly into a formulaic box. Having previously listened to a few standalone tracks out of context and considering the somewhat psychedelic cover art, I expected something more or less anchored in krautrock. However, after listening thoroughly to the whole thing, I realized there isn't actually that much German experimental music here—at least not to the extent I had anticipated. There are no wild trips in the style of Neu! or Holger Czukay-style experiments from Can. Among contemporary acts, something much closer to krautrock would be, for example, the ephemeral and now-defunct project by barefoot Steven Wilson—I.E.M. (Incredible Expanding Mindfuck).
That said... if you break down the Kaufmann/Wojaczek compositions into fine pieces, their vibe, a certain rebellious edge, and their approach to songwriting and recording very much align with the 1970s music of our western neighbors. There are nods to Rousseau (and not just in the titles; cf. "Flower In Asphalt"), Birth Control, shorter-form Eloy, and even lesser-known British bands like Ramases or Curved Air—though it lacks such an elaborate array of instruments, strings, and a prominent lead female voice. On the other hand, a track like "Bokonon" could easily pass for a lost-and-found Beatles song. And that is by no means a criticism—let him who has never listened to or been inspired by the Fab Four cast the first stone. The same can be said for the next song, "Axon." Generally, three-quarters of the album is filled with compositions that don't exceed three or four minutes. Quite simply, they are pretty, neat, somewhat frugally recorded songs dominated by keyboards, acoustic guitar, and vocals.
Standing out interestingly from the rest are the somewhat swaggering, pub-flavored "Wormhole Blues" and "Acid Queen." The latter sounds as if it were plucked straight from A.J. Kaufmann’s solo record Second Hand Man. "In the Silence of the Morning Sunrise"—I presume the title's similarity to Agitation Free is no coincidence. And indeed, while immersing oneself in the sounds of Revelation, it's impossible to escape an encounter with krautrock. Nonetheless, "Lüü" should have reason to be proud, while remaining aware of how this four-decade-old music still resonates with contemporary artists.
Standing out from the rest of the release is what might be my favorite track—"Gray City." Distorted vocals, simple keyboards backed by a rhythm pattern, plus poignant lyrics. It sounds like something right out of The Legendary Pink Dots' repertoire. Yet it’s not just about my personal association or comparison, as the composition, though brief, stands firmly on its own. After "Gray City," we are greeted by "Get High and See," an eleven-minute-plus suite split into five non-overlapping sections. It is the most complex track, but also the most aggressive and pleasantly over-engineered, once again—through its rebellious spirit—wonderfully referencing the German avant-garde of the seventies and early eighties, as well as what Frank Zappa or Don Glen Vliet ("Captain Beefheart") spent their entire lives searching for. Distinctive harmonies, vocal playfulness, and downright gritty, somewhat garage-like guitar tones, especially in the final section.
To top it off, we get the somewhat oriental and electronic "Ascension / Vikings of the Sunrise." Although the track features very cool lyrics, in my humble opinion, it would have worked just as well as a purely instrumental piece. The melody it's built upon reminds me strongly of something, though I can't quite place it right now. And perhaps it's just my illusion, but I get the impression that the first half of Revelation leans more toward song structure, whereas the second half, starting roughly around "Gray City," shifts toward instrumental experimentation—retaining lyrics, but pushing the vocals slightly into the background. The album concludes with a demo version of "Flower in Asphalt," which sounds completely different from the final version that opens the record.
Sauer Adler's Revelation is undoubtedly an intriguing album, but due to its digital-only distribution and niche nature, it is the kind of record that one might not just pass by indifferently, but simply miss altogether. I don't want to sound dogmatic, but I strongly encourage you to take the time to explore what this duo—now a trio—has to offer. Compared to other works produced by A.J. Kaufmann, Sauer Adler's debut album might not completely blow you away, but it offers plenty of listening pleasure and subtle details to uncover. Every listener will surely find something for themselves, and their associations might lean in a slightly different direction. What's more, Revelation serves as an intriguing prologue to the EP released a few months later and their brand-new material. Authenticity and interesting references—often drawn from their own inspirations—are the undeniable highlights of this release. I am convinced, if not certain, that their upcoming records—which I eagerly await—will be even better.
-- Łukasz Modrzejewski, ArtRock.PL, 2013/12/10.
