Specially for Kraftwerk’s appearance at Tribal Gathering ’97 where they finally performed (there were negotiations a year before but it fell apart) in front of 35 thousand people, the Muzik magazine published a funny journal charting the preparation for an open rave by one of the founders of the Dusseldorf band, Ralf Hutter.
He could actually have written this great piece of self-mockery, pointing out the band’s scientific snobbism, their passion for bicycles and great devotion to their ideals if it hadn’t been for its inclusion of the names of non-existing band members, allusions to Being and Time and the last name of an unknown poet :)
Weather: Gloomy. Drunk nine cups of coffee this morning before breakfast, and then undertook a 39-mile bicycle ride around the Eidsbach industrial region which surrounds our home town. I resolved to return next week and record the sound of an arc-welding machine I overheard en route. We are to rehearse this week for the concert we are playing on Saturday in a small English hamlet called Luton.
Weather: Gloomy. We have made some alterations to the set list we drew up last month for this concert. We shall still play Autobahn and Tour De France, but Florian has insisted we replace The Model with a song called C’mon feel the Noize by a band called Slade. He seems to think it will appeal to the British sense of humour. I am inclined to disagree. I hope we do not to come to blows about this one. Cycled 94 miles this evening.
Weather: Gloomy. Drank 18 pints of coffee this afternoon as we rehearsed for the forthcoming concert. Ulrich was experiencing some technical difficulties with his keyboards. I suggested he could stoke it up with more coal before igniting the engine. But he laughed and added, “You fool Ralf! Do you think we still use all those outdated synthesisers! This one is powered by gasoline!” Drank 55 litres of coffee this evening and spent most of the night cycling to my Uncle’s Darmstadt.
Weather: Gloomy. Today we embarked on a 24-hour crash-preparation for our concert in England. This involved cycling, drinking coffee and debating the political theories of Lenin. Florian suddenly taken to combing his hair to the left, rather than to the right. This does no augur well for Saturday.
Weather: Gloomy. We are on the plane to English. Johann is beginning to irritate me. He has insisted on bringing three Moogs, a Korg, 18 Theremins, seven pocket calculators, and, shockingly an electric guitar. I quizzed him about the guitar and he replied that he intended to burn in onstage as a protest against the imperialistic hegemony of six-stringed instruments in modern music. I called hi a dolt, turned and continued reading Heidegger’s Theory and Forms. Drank 43 cups of coffee on the flight.
Weather: Gloomy. We were met in Luton by a man who refered to me a “Herr Ubergruppen Techno Fuhrer”. I did not understand what he meant. We cycled to the site which was, disappointingly, only 30 miles from our hotel. Later, in preparation for our concert, we relaxed by sitting in our rooms studying the later works of Marx and several novels by Ulf Auerbaum. Drank 14 gallons of coffee.
Weather: Gloomy. I am despair. Our concert was awful. The moment we stepped onstage, people cheered, screamed and roared with delight. Some even started dancing. And, most hideously of all, they all stood up. They do not understand how much thought does into our music. How rude. I shall never come to play a concert in this country every again. Not for another 15 years at least.