j o e

After Ege Bamyasi, Can delivered one of their best albums, and my own personal favorite. You will invariably find descriptors like "spacy" and "airy" in reviews of this one, and the levels of undisturbed calm and bliss to be found here make it an inevitability. In staunch contrast to the wired "Pinch" which opened up their last album, the title track that begins this effort is like walking along a beach with waves of liquid trazodone lapping under your feet. Sedated Damo Suzuki croons muffled vocals and Jaki Liebezeit provides a gentle, calypso shuffle sliding against a mincing generator rhythm and Schmidt's barely audible polyphonic synths. The music softly builds in volume to a melodic climax, then cedes into the distance. "Spray" picks up the pace and edge, with much of the track given to the inimitable chunk-chunk interlocking of Czukay's bass and Liebezeit's daunting polyrhythmic activity, combined with the psychedelic squiggles of Schmidt's organ. Yet the overall nature remains open and expansive. Despite its title, "Moonshake" actually provides a brief, earthier break, with beat and vocals largely harkening back to the band's previous two albums. But before they allow you to get too used to it, the band soon catapults you back into the clouds with "Bel Air." This relaxed epic, one of the band's truly finest moments, always reminded me somewhat of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" in the way it takes it time and simply explores. The piece always struck me as classically structured, having a basic sonata form resemblance. We might call the exposition section the main theme in C Major that opens the album, countered about 4:30 minutes in by a second C Minor theme. Perhaps a foreshadowing, as this theme goes on, the reigns loosen considerably. We might broadly cast Suzuki's re-entrance around 10:15 as the opening of a development section, with the original vocal theme getting messed around with (e.g., played against static chords rather than its original descending pattern). Then, the music blasts off, getting progressively more intense and abstract, before simply going supernova around the late 17-minute mark. From here, we have an instrumental recapitulation of the original music of the exposition. I'm sure I'm probably inaccurate in my understanding of how this piece doesn't adhere to the form, but in any case, it's a neat thing to argue and discuss. But in any case, both the band's musicianship and their sense of construction is certainly in peak shape with this album. The sound is mature and focused, the production well-balanced so that you can hear the contributions of each participant pretty clearly, even when they are low in the mix. People talk about the rush of skydiving...as for me, I'll just put on Future Days. An atypical entry in the band's catalog, yes, but one of their master strokes. review by Joe McGlinchey — 2-18-04 —

m a t t

Can was always tinkering with their sound, and Future Days is a significant departure from Ege Bamyasi. In terms of quality, though, I think it is nearly as great. The smoothing of Tago Mago's edges that began on the previous album was completed here. Future Days is a lush, dreamy excursion of gently pulsing rhythms and a myriad of other-worldly keyboard textures and synthesized sounds. The music lacks the nervous energy of the band's previous albums, and thus the usefulness of vocalist Damo Suzuki is diminished; his contributions to Future Days are limited. I realize that I'm repeating these sentiments in every review, but this music sounds totally contemporary to me and I remain astonished that it was released when it was (1973). In this album I hear the kernels of a host of electronic music styles that wouldn't proliferate until nearly 20 years later, as well as the beginnings of post-rock. The album is comprised of three lengthy pieces and "Moonshake," which is as close as you get to a conventional pop song from this era of Can. Despite the fact that all of the three longer tracks do similar things, the sequencing is very effective and I wouldn't think of listening to these songs in any other order. The title track sets the course: the beat is an intricate shuffle now, not an assault like it could be on Tago Mago, and after the passing of some sound effects the listener is slowly lifted up into space by the coalescing melodies. Suzuki contributes some wispy vocals and away we go. Turbulence is encountered on "Spray," as the tempo quickens and the beat morphs into a fascinating polyrhythmic web. The slightly dissonant organ riffs add to the precarious atmosphere. A pulsing bass eventually rights the ship and stability is restored. The catchy "Moonshake" is the party on whatever moon the journey ends, and then "Bel Air" — an elegant multi-part 20-minute track — starts the slow descent back to earth. In a way, Future Days is a Krautrock Dark Side of the Moon. I highly recommend it. review by Matt P. — 6-1-05 —

n i c k

"Lush" and "melodic" are two words most people don't associate with Can. However, on the album "Future Days", lush and melodic seems to be the main aesthetic. No, Can have not turned into the Beach Boys; Jaki Liebezeit's circular rhythms and Holger Czukay's ping pong bass lines are still present, but the sense of frenzy heard on previous albums such as Tago Mago has been muted. Can never stopped experimenting, mind you, but on Future Days they are experimenting with something different. The title track begins with the sounds of burbling water and synthesized wind, and an assortment of odd noises recalling the sound of an extraterrestrial beach. At about the two minute point, a sauntering groove fades in. If much of Can's music seemed more improvised in the past, this track already displays a definite sense of premeditation, having something of an arrangement, and a more "typical" song structure. Also telling is the fact that Damo Suzuki seems more interested in melodies this time around instead of the shrieking vocalizations of before. "Spray" is a track in a style that is more typical of Can with its looser groove and structure; yet still, the moments of tension are kept to a minimum. Instead of exploding, "Spray" simmers. "Moondance", the shortest number here, is a mid-tempo, pop-like number, recalling "One More Night" from Ege Bamyasi. Nice but not significant. "Bel Air" is Can's strongest answer to those critics (usually symphonic prog fans) who feel their music is too noisy and formless. The nineteen minute "Bel Air" nevertheless has a great form, with Can's trance-inducing rhythms formed into discreet sections. The balance of the improvisational and composed elements is spledid, and while the track takes off towards the heavens, it is still tethered to terra firma. Repetition and variety work in harmony as well, so even as the listener is left hypnotized, s/he is not left bored. As far as Can's "classic" albums go, Future Days does not contain the sprawling, demented brilliance of Tago Mago, but its focus and cohesive nature make it a more fulfilling album. The beginning of relax-core, perhaps? review by Nick Paluzzi — 2-4-04 —