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 Brixton Carling Accademy, London (GB) 20.03.2004 |
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Expectations are running
high outside the venue formerly known as Brixton Academy,
now suspiciously re-baptised Carling Academy, for what is a
considerably late show for the UK standards. The crowd
gathered for the midnight show has formed an unbelievably
long queue. Minor
celebrities sneak through the back door, surrounded by
whispers: "Was that Frank Skinner?" "Yes, I saw him too
‚..." All our great
expectations are soon to be fully met and overcome by a
performance even greater than all possible expectations.
Half Mensch half Machine KRAFTWERK start the show
in an impressive red and black scenario. Despite the colours
combined together might suggest alcoves and boudoir, the
actual effect is very different: the stage looks cool,
symmetric and very compact. The German ‚"musical
workers", as they like defining themselves, elegantly
dominate the stage with their characteristic, almost
ethereal detachment, while the words Mensch / Machine flash on screen in a
hammering sequence. It is a beautiful, pure execution. The
red suddenly melts into green and we're soon transported
into a world of tablets and vitamins, a man-made artificial
supply of energy, which leads us to the epic Tour de
France. Motionless, the neat,
efficient-looking artists stand in front of their
sophisticated machines, while at their back images of
cyclists create visual dynamism through their moving bodies,
their muscles in tension, their nerves in suspension. The
soundtrack made of cardiovascular vibrations, breathing and
heartbeats combines beautifully with the elegance of the
athletes controlling their own complex machines - a mixture
of bodies and bicycles. I found myself thinking that this is
one of the nearest encounters I have ever had in my life
with artistic perfection: the harmony of sound and visual is
so impactful I am overwhelmed. The screen paints itself
lilac for a few seconds, while KRAFTWERK remain crystallized
in their electronic stage perfection. Time for the glorious
Autobahn: images of motorways
move smoothly on the screen, celebrating velocity through
sounds of cars, engines and horns: man, the visionary
craftsman, and machine conquer the asphalt together. Equally
glorious, if slightly pop over-friendly, Model comes next, seductively
accompanied on screen by an old fashioned parade of retro
beauties. An almost nostalgic interest for the symmetric
order advocated by the Bauhaus and a 'futurist' passion for
the dynamic body and its interaction with the machine
pervade the entire show. More epic sound-cavalcades follow:
with Radioactivity and Trans Europe
Express the audience gets more
and more enthusiastic. It is not until the end that the
Teutonic knights of Electronica leave room on stage for
their sinister doppelganger / robots. This doesn't come as a
surprise for anybody in the audience, but watching the
dummies playing their noise-machines creates all the same an
eerie atmosphere. An almost religious, mystic feeling fills
the venue: the audience seems to be devotedly praying to the
church of sound, to the gods of technology, for the future
of men. The men ultimately replace the robots on stage with
KRAFTWERK re-appearing in black bodysuits criss-crossed with
glowing green stripes. It is the Menschen, in guise of
machines, who finally bid us goodbye, to the sound of
Music non Stop,
to remind us that music is an 'unfinishing' work in
progress, in constant evolution. Debora Q |
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