Written by Fense

The problem with history is that those in charge often write it—the focus is unfairly swayed toward major conflicts, wars, and… yep… those in charge. See the pattern? That’s what makes a history book like Howard Zinn’s People’s History Of The United States so good—it looks at history from a different perspective. And that’s what you get in the early moments of Kraftwerk And The Digital Revolution.

For example, history covers wars but rarely covers the post-war reconstruction, or the temperament of citizens in a post-war nation. The Digital Revolution may begin in 1960s Germany, but the film goes on to discuss the youth counter-culture and how their vision of government and their parents and grandparents was one of cautious skepticism—these were, after all, the people who had casually stood by, if not actively supported, German Nazism during the 30s and 40s (as noted in the film). In many ways, the youth movement mirrored the free love of the sixties in the US, though the reasons were obviously different.

I must digress from the topic at hand for a moment to discuss the title of this film. It is good in one respect and poor in another. It is good as noting Kraftwerk’s name evokes one to pick up the film for a further glance and it is poor in that the entire first half of the film truly surrounds The Electronic Revolution. And at a full three hours, that’s enough to be a documentary in itself. Back to the film.

From the clash of the mentality of elders and the energized youth came a unique musical movement that, both initially and surprisingly, began with jazz and classical. (For you readers not fond of jazz, I would make the argument that you simply have not exposed yourself to enough styles of jazz to find one worthy of self-notoriety.) Of course, it wasn’t any style of jazz; it was the more avant garde German free jazz.

And from this style of free jazz birthed the electronica that spawned Kraftwerk. And added to it were elemental forms of visual arts, classical music, and various other “scenes” that erupted throughout Germany at the time. The film goes into all of this in great detail; in fact, there is so much detail that the documentary (as noted previously) is three hours long.

But contrary to such films, Kraftwerk And The Electronic Revolution never seems to bore. For such a long work, the film is not surprisingly in-depth, but it is quite entertaining, especially to one who enjoys electronic music and can appreciate a film on its birth.

I recognized several artists in the first half–The Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Kluster, Neu, etc–so, now I also have several new albums to add to my shopping list. And, of course, there’s Kraftwerk.

The second half of the film focuses primarily on Kraftwerk and the music they went on to inspire. Like the first half, the documentary goes into great detail surrounding the group’s releases, from the widely hailed Autobahn to the gripping Trans-Europe Express–the latter finds abundant praise from several noted critics, despite the album being initially poorly received upon original release.

From the brisk near hour-long overview of Kraftwerk’s career comes a much more brief conclusion of the music they inspired, from masters like Bowie and Eno to the soon-to-come New Wave and techno. No matter how you look at it, Kraftwerk’s legacy is one of a kind. And, despite it’s intense three-hour length, Kraftwerk and the Electronic Revolution is a documentary any music fan can appreciate.

Kraftwerk And The Electronic Revolution is available now from MVD Entertainment Group.