Electronic Meditation / Alpha Centauri

Psychedelic music spawned so many fragmented genres of rock in the late 60s, it's easy to forget that at one point, most of the bands were trying to accomplish the same, basic thing: To change the world with music. Failing that, they might have settled for freaking themselves out, but exploration into the unknown was the key. Peace and love? Sure, sometimes. Surreal visions of the beyond? Check. Crazy backwards guitar solos? Extra nice. This kind of faith in a better tomorrow through experimentation (or at least the aping of experimentation, in the hopes of stumbling over a little second-hand wisdom) is one of the aspects of late-60s music culture that makes it so unique, and consequently why, in many ways, it was the last time rock was free of its own self-conscious ambition.

American and British bands were quick to establish national schools of psychedelia, but continental European bands evolved differently. Countries like Germany and Sweden, far from the epicenters of pop and rock flourish, got their news via weekend radio shows and imported LPs. German guitarist Edgar Froese, playing with a beat combo The Ones, had already formed a long-distance attachment to Jimi Hendrix when he met Salvador Dali, and was inspired to form the earliest version of Tangerine Dream (named after a lyric in The Beatles' "Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds") in 1967. Froese met Berlin club owner Conrad Schnitzler, himself a student of avant-garde sculpture and music (via his former teacher Karlheinz Stockhausen), and later, drummer Klaus Schulze. Along with organist Jimmy Jackson, they formed the version of TD that produced their first LP, Electronic Meditation.

TD oozes their way out of the gate with the primordial muck of "Genesis": A short, but telling introduction to a world apart from your mom's wholesome rock and roll. Fuzzy guitar flutter and Schulze's rin-tin-tinny cymbal rattle the stage clear for Schnitzler's basso profundo cello moan. That moan, for better or for worse, is the "melody" here, and I suppose that makes the quivering electro-effects a counterpoint. Flautist Thomas Keyserling (uncredited on the original release) bubbles here and offers a glissando there; at the height of synergetic convergence, Shulze drops a caveman stomp on the toms. If this was hippie music, it was borne of the most sincerely gone magick available.

The two epics (a compositional preference Froese never abandoned) are "Cold Smoke" and "Journey Through A Burning Brain", both of which sound much more in tune with music Shulze and Schnitzler would go on to create than anything TD became famous for. In fact, parts of "Journey" remind me of each of Schnitzler's Kluster LPs, with unidentified sound effects and a hard-line approach to free improvisation: Any melodies are purely coincidental, and should not detract from the generally horrific vibe. The band does lapse into prototypical krautrock beat-mantra midway through, but makes sure to mix in sufficiently atonal flute soloing, and Froese's boundless, rhythmless guitar stylings. "Cold Smoke" begins with a different strategy, one much closer to what most folks think of when TD is mentioned: Keyboard-dominated atmospherics. That strategy lasts for exactly one minute before Shulze's cymbals rip apart the solemn organ chords; the organ tries to come back, and Shulze destroys it again. In the end, things end up fairly similar to the previous tune, though the seeds of a gentler TD have been planted.

"Ashes to Ashes" takes the organ from "Cold Smoke" and adds some Doors-ish cocktail-rock drumming, and of course, more free guitar and flute. On Electronic Meditation, this tune is as close to rock as the group played, and in places is not unlike concurrent Grateful Dead (or more accurately, Amon Duul II). "Resurrection" tidies up the biblical concept with church organ and a backwards sermon (devilish!), and a return of the gooey acid-ballet of the opening song (hereby allowing TD to corner the market on psychedelic, freeform biblical concept albums from Germany). It was a far cry from the mystical impressionism of their mid-70s LPs (with only Froese remaining from this trio), and anyone who thinks the band is good for little more than New Age background moods will be surprised by this music.

Shulze left the band before Electronic Meditation was released, and Schnitzler stayed on only long enough to see the induction of 16-year old drummer Chris Franke into the band. Schnitzler's replacement was the rambunctious organist Steve Shroyder (himself a member for only one album). The trio of Froese, Franke and Shroyder (along with two guest musicians) recorded TD's second record, Alpha Centauri, and had little difficulty living up to the freaky promise of the Dream's debut. Pieces like "Sunrise In the Third System" (an organ-led mystic processional) and the single (!) "Ultima Thule Part 1" (with a very non-TD rock thud) proved the band were learning how to pour maximum mood into more compact structures.

That said, the centerpiece is the massive title-track: Not only does this piece take up the bulk of Alpha Centauri, it's an almost perfect summation of everything they'd accomplished up to that point. Beginning with distant flute, and gigantic cymbal swells, the track (like many before) takes a while to get off the ground, but when Froese's brand new VCS3 synthesizer makes with the siren calls, the outer limits are within reach. Even at this early point, Froese was fascinated with the possibility of the synthesizer, though he hadn't quite mastered its range. Flautist Udo Dennebourg plays a starring role for much of the piece, adding melodic, if flighty, direction to an otherwise malleable form. Dennebourg begins announcing something at the close of the piece, and wordless, choral backing vocals deliver the dark finale.

Each of these records (as well as 1972's Zeit and 1973's Atem) were originally released on Ralf-Ulrich Kaiser's legendary Ohr imprint, also home to the first recordings of Ash Ra Temple, Popol Vuh and Amon Duul. Over the years, Tangerine Dream has undergone a number of personnel changes, and Froese gradually transformed the chaotic Technicolor of his band's first recordings into an altogether different trip. However, as products of the psychedelic era (and the budding German experimental rock scene later dubbed "krautrock"), these albums are fine nuggets indeed, even if the best was yet to come.