Can's 'Future Days', particularly in its 'Remastered Version', is a masterclass in hypnotic, minimalist groove. This wasn't rock as we knew it; it was an oceanic drift, propelled by Jaki Liebezeit’s relentless motorik beat and Holger Czukay’s spectral bass. It felt like electronic music before electronics dominated, a textural soundscape that drew you in with its subtle, evolving patterns. A krautrock cornerstone, still sounding otherworldly.
from “11 Cuts So Deep, They'll Crack the Pavement: Essential Sonic Excavations” →
Can's 1973 opus is an exercise in atmospheric propulsion. Damo Suzuki's vocals drift like a specter over the band's signature hypnotic rhythms and abstract textures. This wasn't about conventional song structures; it was about building sonic landscapes through improvisation and meticulous tape editing. The sound is organic, almost primordial, a testament to what could be achieved with analog equipment when minds were truly unfettered by commercial expectation.
from “10 Deep Cuts From the Analog Age That Demand Your Attention” →
Can’s *Future Days* (1973, remastered) is the blueprint for hypnotic, minimalist groove. That motorik beat and the atmospheric textures are being ghosted into the chillest electronic B-sides and even ambient interludes from idol groups. It’s about creating sustained mood, a feeling of effortless propulsion without any overt drama. This is the background hum that makes your favorite track feel more profound than it actually is. Genius.
from “7 Deep Cuts Your Faves Are Sampling (You Just Don't Know It Yet)” →
