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Collateral Damage: Tony Herrington on the soul of electronic dance music

March 2014

Reasserting the roots of Kraftwerk’s sound in African-American R&B and jazz reveals how the soul of electronic dance music is being throttled by the dead hand of the culture industry. By Tony Herrington

In January, David Toop gave a talk at London’s Science Museum in which he made the startling assertion that Kraftwerk were Dusseldorf’s answer to The Isley Brothers. Rather than a frivolous provocation by a bored theorist, this represented a rare return to a subject David once made his own, critiquing existing orthodoxies on the historical give and take of African-American and European popular musics, remaking connections that have been ignored for various nefarious reasons (or just through sheer ignorance) by critics and academics alike; or that have been written out of history altogether for being too damn inconvenient or messy.

David’s talk was partly prompted by a Facebook post by Kirk Degiorgio, which bemoaned the fact that the African-American contribution to Kraftwerk’s sound has been routinely sidelined by three decades of rhetoric proclaiming them der Patenonkels of techno and electro. As anyone familiar with the two interviews with Kirk published in The Wire (way back in issues 160 and 214), this is a bone of contention he has been gnawing away at for some time.

As far as Kirk is concerned, the origins of techno and electro and all the musics that flow from them lie in the synthesized basslines, applied rhythmic technologies and Afrofuturist concepts developed in the early 1970s – pre-Autobahn, pre-Radio Activity – by such African-American visionaries as Herbie Hancock, George Duke, Bernie Worrell and Stevie Wonder, which Juan Atkins et al then took to the next level. Previously he has come up with ingenious theories, rooted in a class analyses of the catastrophic socio-economic conditions that prevailed in the handful of African-American run US cities in the 70s and 80s, to explain why early Detroit techno is infected by white electro pop tropes seemingly picked up from over exposure to Depeche Mode and Thomas Dolby. Now he looks to be getting down to the serious business of recalibrating those tropes’ respective source as African-American by proxy.

On Facebook, Kirk mentioned The Isleys in relation to Kraftwerk, and in his talk, David took up the idea and ran with it, expanding the argument to include the impact of progressive African-American jazz on the Dusseldorf mensch-machines.

But Kraftwerk as the German Isleys makes sudden sense to me, on both formal and musicological levels. Old song forms retrofitted with new technologies: that sounds like what Kraftwerk did and what African-American popular music had been doing since the get go. Think of the transition from country blues in the 30s to electric blues in the 50s: the same songs only now technologized. Then think about what Kraftwerk did two decades later to Chuck Berry’s automotorik R&B. The source code of “Autobahn” is routinely located in the music of The Beach Boys. Fine, but then analyse the source of The Beach Boys’ sound, which according to Brian Wilson himself, was an attempt to rewire 50s inner city African-American doo-wop and R&B for the car and beach culture of 60s California.

The Isleys began their remarkable 60 year career as a doo-wop group in 1954, a year before the official birth of rock ’n’ roll, then moved through the eras of R&B, soul, funk, disco, electro, house, new jack swing and on and on right up to the present moment of Auto-tuned MOBO. As far as lengthy careers go, they have around 15 years on their Deutsche doppelgangers. But play Radio-Activity back to back with Tour De France Soundtracks: as with The Isleys, and virtually every other African-American R&B act that has stayed the course, the songs remain the same; it’s the upgrades in the technology that catch the imagination.

During his talk David cued up The Isleys’ “Highways Of My Life” and Kraftwerk’s “Tanzmusik” and played them back simultaneously to make a mischevious-serious point about shared musical roots. In an even more inspired moment, he dropped The Isley’s 1969 “Vacuum Cleaner” (“My love is like a vacuum cleaner/It keeps pulling me in”) as an example of the kind of techno-eroticism that had long been a part of the imagery of African-American R&B and would become such a key Kraftwerk trope.

But the progressive jazz influences on Tone Float by the pre-Kraftwerk Organisation and the first two Kraftwerk albums proper are there for all to hear, in particular the Afrodelic sounds-in-space odysseys developed in the mid-late 60s by The Art Ensemble Of Chicago and Pharaoh Sanders, as well as the monolithic one chord vamping plus freak out soloing interspersed with passages of pure tone float that characterised Miles Davis’s late 60s groups, and which Miles adapted from James Brown and Sly Stone. Like Miles, Kraftwerk’s genius partly resided in their preternatural ability to instantly detect, absorb and repurpose minute but significant shifts in the fundamental stuff of African-American popular music, which is to say rhythms and technology. And the tight-but-loose percussive rhythms on those first two Kraftwerk records, which were then quantized on Ralf Und Florian to establish the rhythmic grid Kraftwerk would utilise for the rest of their career, sound exactly like those laid down on Bitches Brew and Miles Davis At Fillmore fractionally earlier by Jack DeJohnette, who we may have to now retroactively acknowledge as one of the founding fathers of motorik.

Was this one of the reasons those records were mysteriously excluded from 2009’s otherwise comprehensive repacking of the Kraftwerk catalogue, a project overseen by the group itself? Maybe white critics and fans with either cloth ears or clandestine agendas or axes to grind aren’t the only ones looking to wipe the slate clean of anything that will get in the way of maintaining Kraftwerk’s cult status as the Mitteleuropa ground zero of electronic dance music.

Such talk is guaranteed to get the trolls clambering out of their holes. When Kirk Degiorgio dissed Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire in relation to the more complex rhythmatics of house, techno and electro in the second of those two Wire interviews, an irate reader laid into him on the next issue’s Letters page: “TG were utilising sequenced rhythms… a full ten years before Degiorgio’s heroes in dance music,” spat Tim Jones from Manchester, which was a particulaly sobering example of the kind of aggressive reactionary historical revisionism that has been brought to bear on the origins of electronic dance music from the other side of the tracks, and now I think about it, I can’t believe we actually published it without comment. Meanwhile, laissez-faire postmodernists will dismiss it all as essentialist and atavistic.

But consider this: in 2014, post-techno electronic dance music is increasingly being annexed to the whitest ever white worlds of stadium rock, post-industrial culture and sound art, a deleterious process that further isolates it from its origins in postwar African-American culture. For one thing, you can’t actually dance to much of this stuff anymore. The act and art of dancing have been rendered null and void by the music’s devolution into Skrillex-like festival bangers or liminal electronica. This is significant because dancing, in case anyone needed reminding, was once a key function of the music, a crucial component in a dynamic and inclusive feedback loop. Taking it out of that loop has implications for the music’s social dynamic and by extension its racial, sexual and economic dynamics too. Likewise, electronic dance music’s migration into museums and gallery spaces (Kraftwerk’s most recent venues of choice) is detaching it from the vernacular of pop culture itself. Instead, it is channeled into petit bourgeois notions of what constitutes serious art (ironically, or maybe not, David Toop’s talk took place in a museum gallery in advance of a performance of Kraftwerk’s music rescored for classical ensemble). This in turn prescribes the terms and conditions in which audiences might react and respond to it, devolving it into a highbrow, non-participatory spectator sport; even worse, it predetermines the kinds of individuals that might constitute those audiences, actively excluding all Others.

In the midst of all this, and as critics and producers continue to cite Kraftwerk and their industrial progeny as electronic dance music’s ne plus ultra, the need to state the uncomfortable historical facts of the matter, to redraw a more complex lineage that goes back to the revolutionary technological progressions that swept through African-American music on the cusp of the 70s, feels more necessary, not to say liberating, than ever.


This to not put too fine a point on is at best revisionist at worst inherently racist nonsense. Racist nonsense because in the manner of many a self-appointed white spokesmen for afro Caribbean culture the author makes all the usual white colonial mistakes based on the premise of there being some primordial ‘other’ inherent in blackness.

Rather than seeing all culture and music in particular as a process of cross fertilisation between people of all races and cultures be they black, white, brown etc etc. it tries to locate some essentialist rhythmic purity within black culture no doubt originating in those complex polyrthymns heard around the camp fire.

In this context the article trips over itself in trying to argue that the black man did it first and then the white man took it (why not just say pinched it) and diminished its essence till oh la it ends up in the gallery. Let’s forget the traditions of dance stretching back decades in Europe let’s forget black and white musicians working together such as Wonder and Tonto – no instead lets locate innovation in the black and derivation in the white.
The underlying and insidious colonialism of this misguided and inherently racist ‘otherness’ underpins not only this article but the whole generation of veneration around roots music, the willingness to forgive Rastafarianism its inherent sexism and Babylonian bollocks not to mention bedrooms full of pasty white boys copying rap moves and licks in some nightmare update of the minstrel show.

Roger Bottomly

Articles like this pretty much put a point on why I've let my subscription to Wire lapse. This article is so tortured and grasping it reads like something written by a second-year who had never thought about racial issues in music writing for their student newspaper. It also displays the same level of apparent unfamiliarity with the scene.

Just to pick one piece.

"For one thing, you can’t actually dance to much of this stuff anymore. The act and art of dancing have been rendered null and void by the music’s devolution into Skrillex-like festival bangers or liminal electronica."

Nobody who has any exposure to today's dance music scene could possibly write this. We just had (to live through) a deep-house revival.

This particular line reads like 'I wish dance music was the same as when I was 20' or 'I have no idea what I'm talking about, but this Skrillex guy seems to be getting a lot of press - that must be what's going on now'.

As for the larger questions of race in modern dance music, it's pretty weird that we have a whole article supposedly about that which doesn't mention the rise of Footwork or Trap in recent times.
Or the fact that Miles was getting deep into Stockhausen in the late 60s/early 70s.

i agreedisagree. "Jein" to say it in german. The thing is that Kraftwerk did everything they could to NOT produce anything blues related - because this white rock music trying to pretend it is blues is a scam, a thievery. because rock was more and more a spectacular lie that fed on blues (and i would easyly argue that blues was already dead because of this). Then of course they used rythms and technology. This is where i find it a little too easy to consider that EVERYTHING that is rythm/tech has a debt to R&B. When Can where rooting themselves clearly on James Brown, Kraftwerk did not.
See the (very little) european rythmic tradition :
Varese ionisation has a debt to black music (or try to answer the question balck music raise in the white soul), but certainly not to R&B. It was actually an attempt to put rythm in white music without trying to play "jazz" (my interpretation). And i think Kraftwerk did something similar. they did not deny their black influence but they tried to lay out the foundation of a GERMAN rythm music that is totally rooted in postwar germany, a german music that would have no relation what so ever with german history (romanticism and all what lead to nazism). the point was not being white or black but being german in a time where people were ashamed to be. This "german-non-traditional-non-folk" music had to be technological. economic miracle, ruhrgebiet all that stuff... ANd maybe some afro-miles-davies-Motown-Stax roots are there, why not, but that was NOT what they wanted to achieve. and i find it rather a little over the top thoerician academic like to go from vaccum cleaner to the techno-eros of Kraftwerk. Kraftwerk as a techno-eros and it is very very different. it is quite humoristic, based on dullness, boring landscape, beautifull ennui/fatigue... i do not think they ever tried neither to be "purely white" (or to hide anything in their rerelease, common!). nonsense. they were trying to save the german soul by recreating it from scratch (and yes "from scratch" does NOT exist, there of course comes influences they had). Neubauten did the same (and they were still big fans of Lee Perry).

"Rather than seeing all culture and music in particular as a process of cross fertilisation between people of all races and cultures be they black, white, brown etc etc. it tries to locate some essentialist rhythmic purity within black culture no doubt originating in those complex polyrthymns heard around the camp fire."

actually Roger, it is "I" who have long accepted this cross-fertilisation and am simply frustrated when I come across biographies/articles that completely omit the importance of lesser-known but equally important influences from Black American music.

it's not a 'purist' crusade as you have misinterpreted - more a simple redressing the balance.


But it IS essentialist, isn't it? The boundaries between genres can be drawn wherever anyone who wants to draw one chooses. So when and where was techno born? Was it with the Belleville Three? Or was it with the ideas they owed to Kraftwerk, the City of Detroit, Herbie Hancock? Was it with the early synthesists and computer musicians? And so on.

As for all dance music now either being stadium rock and narcoleptic house, give me a break.

"Racist nonsense because in the manner of many a self-appointed white spokesmen for afro Caribbean culture..."

if you're gonna bitch about racism, at least get your facts right--the isleys aren't from the caribbean, they are from NEW JERSEY. "african-american" refers to people with african heritage born in the UNITED STATES, not the caribbean. most african-americans have roots in the south of the usa, not the caribbean--we have a different history that is quite well documented (or you could just watch "roots.")


"We just had (to live through) a deep-house revival."
sure, but is that what's getting booked for these massive festivals? i think your "we" = the underground--who weren't going to the edm-fest anyway.


"actually Roger, it is "I" who have long accepted this cross-fertilisation and am simply frustrated when I come across biographies/articles that completely omit the importance of lesser-known but equally important influences from Black American music."

to further bolster kirk's point, african-american music is NOT generally treated equally to its euro-american cousin. look at the "music" section in any major newspaper--euro-based music is "music" whereas afro-based music is often "pop music" or some other delineation--does that seem equal to you?

Time to weigh in with some responses.

First, to be called a racist by the likes of Roger Bottomly is indeed a badge of honour I will wear with pride. He probably thinks his comments are progressive, but they reveal him to be the kind of white man (I'm assuming he is white just as he assumes that I am) who is terrified by the implications of what he hears in black music, because it confronts him with a reality he dare not face. This is implicit in all his comments then made explicit in his bizarre invocation of European dance music (what, like the waltz and the paso doble?), his dismissal of roots reggae's political agenda as sexist and Babylonian bollocks, and finally in the nightmare vision of white supremacists everywhere of white youth being infected by black culture.

Guillaume's comments actually support my points rather than contradict them. The problem is that Kraftwerk were retroactively configured as the fount for the subsequent iterations of the black music they took from in order to forge a music that owned nothing to their parents' generation (a generation which damned African-American culture as degenerate), and then became so wrapped up in their own myth that they started perpetuating this distorted notion themselves. Kraftwerk may have been attempting to realise a music fit for the postwar industrial landscapes of the Ruhr valley, and in this they initially acknowledged their debt to the way The Stooges attempted on Funhouse to do the same thing for the postwar industrial landscapes of the American Midwest. But as Iggy Pop has clearly stated, the models for Funhouse were John Coltrane and James Brown. We also need to be wary of this other cliche, that German rock of the 60s and 70s was an attempt to break with blues-derived forms. The blues is not just about a particular chord sequence, it is, as Amiri Baraka, Larry Neal and others have made clear, a philosophical condition that lies at the root of all African-American popular music, from R&B to hiphop, from James Brown to John Coltrane.

Finally, I'm not talking about ALL dance music, obviously, but post-techno electronic dance music, the stuff that is routinely cited as the progeny of Kraftwerk - so not all the current house and garage derivatives which are descended from disco, and not all the jungle/grime/dubstep derivatives (aka the Hardcore Continuum if yr a follower of Simon Reynolds) which are descended from UK breakbeat culture which was a synthesis of US rap and Jamaican sound system culture. Analyse the rhythms in all these musics and the differences are clear. Rhythm is the foundation of all African-American music (just as it was the foundation of the radical break 20th century composition made with the classical canon back in the day - just ask Stravinsky and Debussy, or Aaron Copland - and this rhythmic break was fascilitated in no small part by the example of jazz). That's not an essentialist statement but one based in musicological fact (though I'm happy to be called an essentialist when what holds all these assumptions in place is a racist system that is, as all racist systems are, deeply essentialist itself. Fight fire with fire and by any means necessary).

The rhythms of techno and electro and their derivatives are rooted in R&B and funk. They are R&B and funk technolgized. More than that, these musics marked the most profound attempt to stage a philosophical discussion on the nature of black US identity after the end of the world (cf Sun Ra and Public Enemy) via pop culture since P-funk, which in turn was the most radical since the cosmic jazz of the 60s. So techno and electro in their own time were the blackest of black musics, including hiphop. And it is this music which Kraftwerk have been so lazily and retroactively cited as the forefathers of, and which now is being cut off from its true origins and meaning and milieu by the likes of EDM and liminal electronica. When Afrika Bambaataa had his famous epiphany listening to "Trans-Europe Express", the one that led to "Planet Rock", he wasn't hearing anything he didn't already know, he was, to paraphrase Sun Ra, hearing it refracted through a dream that black music had dreamt long ago. If you can get to that then you might just be getting on the right track to seeing and hearing things as the really are.

David Toop's most inspired contribution to rock criticism was his 'two tabs and a synthesiser' review of a Model 500 track back in '87.

From there, it was an easy step to Fingers Inc and everything that followed - for which I'll be eternally grateful.

Derrick May was wrong! Techno is the sound of George Clinton in an elevator on his own! Seriously though, why is there no mention of latin american music and the huge influence that had on electro and techno? Why do you avoid discussing the records that Kraftwerk made that are most relevant to this; Trans Europe Express, the Robots, the Computer World LP? At times it seems like you are making out that Kraftwerk are an r'n'b/funk band and their music was just just a logical iteration in its development, but surely you don't really think that. I'd agree that the influence of African American music on them is rarely discussed, but why not limit your argument to that and give some more convincing examples rather than red herrings like the jazz influence of their earlier albums or the beach boys?

Sorry but there really is no scuh thing as black music -

Racism functions by identifying an “other” distinct from the self indeed the self is all but defined in relation or opposition to this “other”. The “other” becomes the inverse of everything one perceives within oneself and difference is accentuated wherever possible both physically and culturally. So for the racist the “other” is darkest black in relation to his pure whiteness, or dirty in contrast to his cleanliness and so on. The “other” is in this equation normally perceived as lesser indeed in the case of Jews in Nazi ideology and slaves under colonialism as sub human and thus the barbaric treatment of the “other” is justified even, normalised. The plantation owner returns from beating a slave to death in the field to gently cradle his daughter on his knee.
Another form of exploitation of the “other” seeks to use the “other” not so much physically though unpaid labour but culturally. In this context the “other” is identified as different by virtue of being a chronologically earlier version of man. Enter the noble savage, untainted by the ways of modernity, closer to the roots or essence of being, the noble savage is a darker, stronger more dynamic being, a primitive with high sex drive and well-endowed physique. Such noble savages are fawned over by white sports commentators as they punch each other stupid in the heavy weight boxing ring or by white middle class (by birth or education) writers in the genre of popular music. In both cases difference is not only accentuated but fetishitsied and indeed encouraged. The black man is identified as somehow more rhythmic; the true source of all earthy beat driven soulful music. The black man is the source of the blues; of unqualified and heart felt emotion. No pastiche, no over intellectualising just down and dirty.
It is in this context that Tony Herrington makes his analysis and in his own way adds to the ongoing racism and exploitation that feeds of a manufactured difference. This has been going on since the days of Alan Lomax who sought out the most exploited and then encouraged the continuation of a form of music - the blues which within the community in which it had originated was already on the wane. Blind black men were hauled out of obscurity to play for white audiences and so it went on through the twentieth century with white men painting their faces black or the two lads from Dartford borrowing the licks and lips of black men – all the while feeding off this manufactured difference and doing nothing meaningful to improve the lot of those they exploited. By keeping the dark “other” poor and exploited the unscrupulous white musician and writer can keep a reservoir from which to draw; portraying the fetishized darkness to a white audience within the safety of a white music industry.


Why does Tony Herrington hate galleries so much?

I'm tempted to ignore that utterly bizarre and perplexing comment by Ro-Bot, I've had my say after all, but sometimes you've just got to respond, you can't let that kind of stuff go by unchallenged. So again Ro-Bot repeats the mistake Roger Bottomly made (or are they one and the same?): in making what they think is a progressive post-racial statement (I assume that's what they think it is) they reveal the multiple deep and distorted prejudices in their own thought patterns. The Other I invoked at the end of the essay wasn't about race, it was about class, if that wasn't obvious, and in answer to Tabitha's question - thanks to the petit bourgeois conditions they set up, so-called liberal cultural institutions exclude by class rather than race or gender, though I am sure they are good at that too. But to get back to Ro-Bot, at which point did I fetishize, as they put it, black music as primitive and dirty? Is that what Ro-Bot thinks it is? Is that why they think white listeners think so highly of it? I happen to think it has provided us with the most intellectually advanced art of the 20th and 21st centuries, if that wasn't already obvious. What are we dealing with here? A white supremacist provocateur in disguise? Assuming they are just very confused, Ro-Bot really needs to go away and read some Amiri Baraka, Larry Neal, AB Spellman, Greg Tate, Nelson George, etc, etc, etc, African-American thinkers who allegorised or made metaphors out of the very profound and complex rhythmic concepts (again, why do you think black rhythm is primitive and dirty?) and the blues (ditto?) to get to the core of the African-American condition. If Ro-bot doesn't like the actuality of black music, if he thinks it is demeaning to talk about it, if he thinks it is primitive and dirty and uptight white folks are just fetishizing it for that reason, and if all that confronts him with something that makes him very uncomfortable, that, frankly, is his problem.

Ro-Bot perhaps over states his case but his (?) analysis is far from perplexing, the 'other' having been popularised by Lacan, Foucault etc as a way of understanding the mechanisms of knowledge and power. I imagine Tony views himself as running against the grain of the establishment and orthodoxy so to find himself accused of in effect being an instrument of cultural repression must be pretty galling though his recourse to suggesting that his critics are "terrified" or made ""uncomfortable" by what they hear in black music seems a rather weak response.

Everyone on this comment thread has totally lost the plot and as usual is just using it to show off what they studied at university. Tedious bores. Well done Eric, you know Lacan and Foucault. So what! Correct me if I'm wrong but wasn't Tony Herrington's article simply an attempt to emphasise the black roots of techno? How can that be culturally repressive? Get back on message or go away. Idiots.

Just cos Lacan and Foucault said something doesn't make it so.

"Just cos Lacan and Foucault said something doesn't make it so" indeed not though might take their theory over the half baked tosh what one normally reads in thr Wire anyday.....

"Derrick May was wrong! Techno is the sound of George Clinton in an elevator on his own!"

Isn't the point that techno has become the sound of Kraftwerk in an elevator on their own?

Just been listening to Ohm Sweet Ohm - boy dog that funk influence! Tony is right about Noise of Art though - that really is tepid techno....

it is quite understandable that Europeans try to deny the predominantly black, primarily African and Afro-American foundation of modern pop and dance music.

Europeans come from cultures which spent 1000 years condemning rhythm based music as "animalistic" and "primitive", "characteristic of the lower classes", in pursuit of cerebral harmonies, "music of the spheres". Cultures in which the only respectable form of dancing was as spectacle rather than participatory communal activity; cultures where music is to be enjoyed sitting down, in quiet contemplation; cultures where hip movements were, and still are, considered lewd, disgusting, and offensive. But now, 100 years since the arrival of jazz, white people find themselves in a world dominated by rhythmic music made for social dancing -- of course they would try to claim that these cultures are also, EQUALLY theirs as much as it is African derived.

Especially modern Germany: there was no German youth culture to speak of in the post-war eras, as Deutschland imported everything from jazz to rock to disco, until the largely ignored at home Kraut Rock movement gave birth, almost accidentally, to Kraftwerk's elektro-pop. Now Germans want to lay claim to techno culture as, if not entirely, as much theirs as belonging to anyone else.

I live in Germany, play often in German clubs, tour often within the country, and talk often to German clubbers. The view that techno is predominantly European, and have nearly NOTHING to do with Africa, is prevalent. Only the serious heads who know a bit about music and the world will acknowledge the deep and direct connection of hypnotic, trance inducing rhythms and prolonged social dancing, to African cultures. Only people who know a bit about history realizes that these things were not allowed to flourish in Europe, but rather discouraged and looked down upon, until the arrival of African American music during the 20th Century.

My perspective on all this is neutral, or at least much more neutral than blacks or whites, because i come from the Far East, removed from both the historical racial dynamics and baggage of the western world, as well as hearing modern music with fresh ears, with an unbiased point of view, having grown up without any scene affiliations.

I had read the original article numerous times with great interest and spent much time ruminating on it, and recalling Kubin's response; always lacking time to formulate a proper rejoinder. Perhaps there is none. I think a quote from Autechre comes closest, in which it was rightly asserted that any funk band yielded far more complexities in structure than their own compositions ("We Control the Dice" I think it was).
My reaction at the time centered on the elemental aspects of rhythm--can a machine swing? Can it shade the downbeat and ripple in unpredictable ways, a few ms ahead or behind the beat? Of course, Kraftwerk often had humans hitting drum pads, but my impression was always metronomic. One gets sucked in by the tractor beam.
As a listener, I focus on these things, and wonder why I am often incapable of stopping a Funkadelic record, or why I will play a Sly Stone selection 20 times in succession.

DJ Zhao, thank you for your Congolese comps--very well-assembled.

And does the machine have a soul? Listening to Basic Channel and some R&S with Paul St Hilaire; the potential for sentient inaccuracies is palpable.

KRAFTWERK one of the best bands of all time

and im not saying this because im from germany. I hate german music.

But KRAFTWERK is a phenomenon. When i was a teen in the early 2000s i was a NEPTUNES fan and bought every cd of them and even when they produced BRITNEY SPEARS album BRITNEY i bought this album because of their production credits

and believe me or not but every time i listen to one of those neptune productions i recognize KRAFTWERK SOUNDS!

and PHARELL himself said that KRAFTWERK was a band which inspired him a lot

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