Germans make things tougher than they need to be, but I think it’s because they like the challenge.
Look at their language, filled with 21-letter words with sometimes complex, existential meanings. Even simple words are a mouthful: The German word for OK is Einverstanden. I wonder — does anyone ever win a German spelling bee? Do they ever end?
Now in its 25th year of existence, German band The Notwist, a foursome from Weilheim in Oberbayern (even the town names are elaborate), started as a metal band but would become the godfathers of electronic-indie postrock. Its 2002 album Neon Golden was as influential as they come, opening the doors for bands such as Postal Service and Passion Pit. But instead of expounding on its achievement, Notwist went six years before releasing the uneven The Devil, You + Me and now, another half-dozen years later, returns with Close to the Glass. Recently signed to Sub-Pop, Notwist is making a play for relevance again, and while Glass makes some inventive noise, it doesn’t do it often enough.
With disjointed beeps and clamorous percussion, tracks “Signals” and “Close to the Glass” set an early tone of experimentation, even though Markus Acher’s vocals come across bland and uninspired. Acher, who with brother Michael founded the band in 1989, clearly enjoys the music more than the lyrics (as is the postrock way), as the words in these opening songs feel more a chore than an accoutrement.
But then “Kong” follows, a pop gem allowing the album to properly unfold (it’s a slam-dunk opening track, why it’s not is odd). It’s classic Notwist, which I can understand is not what the band wants to do, but perhaps it’s what it should do. “Casino” falls into this same verve, and really, and album of 10 songs such as these two would make for an instant classic. The subtle acoustic guitar throughout “Casino” provides healing comfort in a song about failing relationships. Top-rate stuff.
What follows is not a matter of ingenuity, but of not knowing when to stop. “7 Hour Drive” has Notwist in shoegaze mode with an inviting starting guitar fuzz which becomes a tad annoying by song’s end. The jejune “Run Run Run” apes Thom Yorke’s solo efforts to tepid results (and really, how good is Thom Yorke’s solo work to begin with? Yes, I said it). “Lineri” is nine minutes of indulgence and drudgery, like telling a long story where the ending includes the phrase “and then nothing happened.”
Who knows, I could be off on this and in two years the world be writing about Close to the Glass as a lesson in perseverance, the opening shot in “shoegaze postrock electronica minimalism.” I doubt it. If Notwist embraced its past more (a past that already peered into the future), Glass would be an album we would talk about for years.
But I get it, that would be too easy. What’s the German word for challenge?
Herausforderung
Yep, that sounds about right.
