01	Paperhouse						07:28
	02	Mushroom						04:03
	03	Oh Yeah						07:24
	04	Halleluhwah						18:28
	05	Aumgn						17:33
	06	Peking O						11:38
	07	Bring Me Coffee or Tea						06:45

Spoon (CD 006/7)
Germany 1971

Holger Czukay, bass;
Michael Karoli, guitar;
Jaki Liebezeit, drums;
Irmin Schmidt: keyboards;
Damo Suzuki, vocals

Bob Eichler:
When the local Borders bookstore opened, I was surprised to find a bunch of Can CDs in their music section. I didn't know much about the band, but figured I should buy a couple albums while I had the chance. My first impression of Tago Mago: imagine drum lines so rock steady and repetitive that they become hypnotic, over which a Japanese vocalist mumbles, sings and screams indecipherable lyrics in accented English and the guitar and organ play psychedelic jams that sound halfway between the Doors and some of Zappa's weirder stuff. On paper, that doesn't sound too enticing, but somehow it works to create some interesting prog rock.
As the album winds on, it moves from the jam/groove style further and further into psychedelic freak-out territory. By the time it gets to the seventeen minute "Aumgn", the disc has pretty much entered the realm that clears parties and makes people wonder about your sanity for listening to it. After that track and "Peking O", the music starts to drift back towards normal (or at least as close as this band gets to normal), with the closing "Bring Me Coffee or Tea" being almost catchy. Or maybe it just sounds that way after listening to the previous two tracks.
This definitely isn't an album for everybody, but if you enjoy the more experimental edges of prog and can handle repetitive grooves and flat-out weirdness, you might want to give this disc a try. My only real complaint about this CD is that the sound quality is kind of crappy - tinny, scratchy sounding and slightly distorted during the loud parts. I'm not sure if it's supposed to sound that way, or if I just got a bad pressing.

Dominique Leone:
Double LP (single CD) effort from legendary German prog group. This album, their first with Japanese street-singer Damo Suzuki, sounds a little dated today, but nonetheless makes clear the band_s strengths. Half of the album is made up of typical Can "songs": metronomic grooves, trance-like repetition of motives, impressionistic harmonic tendencies, extremely tight ensemble. The other half is sound experiments largely comprised of odd synthesizer-effects and way too much echo. Some of this album compares with early, experimental Pink Floyd, but Can_s drummer is a lot better (read: funkier). Be prepared to hook up the old Lava Lamp for this one.

Joe McGlinchey:
A monster double-album from Can, this is often cited as their greatest work. Side One is probably the best, with all the recognizable Can trademarks: Damo Suzuki's vocals, which shift from soft mumbles to aggressive outbursts without warning; Jaki Liebezeit's mantric drumming; Holger Czukay's production manipulations (e.g. the backwards vocals and opening sound effects on "Oh Yeah"). From there, the band loosens up, getting increasingly demented so that by side three, as Irmin Schmidt's slowed-down cries punctuate "Augmn," you are wondering just what the hell you are listening to. Luckily, the band ends on a comparatively more straightforward note with "Bring Me Coffee or Tea." Tago Mago is not the most succinct of Can albums, and I personally prefer the next two, Ege Bamyasi and Future Days, which are compositionally just as good and more refined. Still, if you want a pretty comprehensive idea of what the band at their strongest were capable of doing, this makes a good starting point, especially considering the bargain of a single CD price.




Can - Tago Mago

Member: Thekouderwunz - 02/28/03

Oh how different the world of popular music would be without the group called Can. Originally a quartet from Germany, augmented by the loony bird, American-born Malcolm Mooney (until his erratic behavior earned him the boot after the band's first album.) The band's fortunes would change when the band added Japanese vocalist, Damo Suzuki to the mix, and where all of the bands most important material was to be recorded.

Cited by many outside of the prog world to have been a seminal influence, bands like Public Image Limited, Roxy Music, The Fall, Joy Divison, Siuoxsie and The Banshees, The Cure to name a few were taken aback by a band that really had no contemporaries, the closest bands in resemblance was Frank Zappa's Mother's Of Invention (circa Uncle Meat) or Velvet Underground and even these guys were a bit different from Can.

From the Fripp-like guitar licks of Michael Karoli, to the creepy, ambient washes of Irmin Schmidt's synthesizers, the bouncy repetitiveness of Holger Czukay's fuzz bass, and the polyrhythmic drumming of Jaki Liebiezeit, Can funked up shit like no other of the time. With a band of such pedigree, Can chose to take the dissonance of Pink Floyd's early experimentation period, and add a "soulful" quality to it. All came to fruition on the band's third album, Tago Mago.

Originally a double album (one CD), the band's experimentation mixed with the band's druggy funk beats, laid a new foundation to people whom otherwise thought of the band's two primary influences (Zappa and Velvet Underground) to be too overbearing to be taken serious. The opener is trip happy "Paperhouse", followed by "Mushroom" which therin segues into one of the band's opuses, "Oh Yeah" (It's one of the few things that the producers of The Supernatural Fairy Tales box set got right, when they included this song).

The fourth track, not wanting to call it a song is the drug induced psychedelia, "Aumgn", which is basically the band, making noodling noises underneath Damo's chanting, very creepy and it builds up to some great percussive work by Jaki. Powerful stuff for the faint of heart. The last two songs, "Peking O" and "Bring Me Coffee or Tea" continue with the band's exterminations, but the damage is done.

Some might have legitimate gripes about Faust, Neu!, Amon Duul 2, but Can was still a few league ahead of their peers and this album define the whole genre of Kraut-rock. Light years ahead of everyone in music at the time, Can were the forebearers to the post punk movement.

Charles





Tago Mago
Date of Release 1971

With the band in full artistic flower and Suzuki's sometimes moody, sometimes frenetic speak/sing/shrieking in full effect, Can released not merely one of the best Krautrock albums of all time, but one of the best albums ever, period. Tago Mago is that rarity of the early '70s, a double album without a wasted note, ranging from sweetly gentle float to full-on monster grooves. "Paperhouse" starts things brilliantly, beginning with a low-key chime and beat, before amping up into a rumbling roll in the midsection, then calming down again before one last blast. Both "Mushroom" and "Oh Yeah," the latter with Schmidt filling out the quicker pace with nicely spooky keyboards, continue the fine vibe. After that, though, come the huge highlights — three long examples of Can at its absolute best. "Halleluwah" — featuring the Liebezeit/Czukay rhythm section pounding out a monster trance/funk beat; Karoli's and Schmidt's always impressive fills and leads; and Suzuki's slow-building ranting above everything — is 19 minutes of pure genius. The near-rhythmless flow of "Aumgn" is equally mind-blowing, with swaths of sound from all the members floating from speaker to speaker in an ever-evolving wash, leading up to a final jam. "Peking O" continues that same sort of feeling, but with a touch more focus, throwing in everything from Chinese-inspired melodies and jazzy piano breaks to cheap organ rhythm boxes and near babbling from Suzuki along the way. "Bring Me Coffee or Tea" wraps things up as a fine, fun little coda to a landmark record. — Ned Raggett


Can - Producer
Irmin Schmidt - Keyboards, Vocals
Holger Czukay - Bass, Engineer, Editing
Michael Karoli - Guitar, Violin
Damo Suzuki - Vocals
Jaki Liebezeit - Drums

1998 CD Mute 69054
1971 CD Restless 71444
1971 LP United Artists 60009/0
1971 Mute 87006
CS Spoon 71444-4
1995 CD Mute 87006
2002 LP Mute 9054