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Double LP version. With synthesizers, rhythm computers, and human metronomes turned to a gallop, these electronic innovators set modernity to a motorik beat, and Bureau B’s second trip into Silberland cuts right to the thrust of the genre. The set begins with the propulsive opener from Harald Grosskopf’s 1986 LP Oceanheart, in which pristine sequences play in counterpoint atop a mechanical kick, hurtling forward until the rest of the kit catches up. Live drums take center stage for Cluster’s feverish “Prothese” and the time travelling “Elektroklang” by Conrad Schnitzler. You offer astral ascension on “Son Of A True Star”, weaving proggy square waves and pulsating arps around an irresistible shuffle from mysterious percussionist Lhan Gopal (Grosskopf in disguise), before the optimistic “Für Dich” fuses classic kosmische chords with Thomas Dinger’s pummeling beat. Asmus Tietchens’s detuned keys and drum machine samba are imbued with a punk spirit shared by Moebius Plank Neumeier’s discordant jazz-tanz jam “Search Zero”. “Beat For Ikutaro”, plucked from a mid-80s demo tape by Camouflage keyboardist Heiko Maile, swerves into icy electroid territories. The cassette energy continues with the mechanized boogie of Lapre’s “Flokati”, a funkier take on the style in wonderful contrast with Adelbert Von Deyen’s breakneck, straight shooting “Time Machine”, a massively motorik night drive. Günter Schickert takes you inside the fuel pump on the weird and watery “Puls”, while the charmingly disruptive Faust complete the pitstop via the blasted blues of “Juggernaut”. Moebius & Plank return sans Neumeier for the deep and dubby “Feedback 66”, all murmured vocals and surging pedals powered by a seismic bassline from Holger Czukay. You move through the airy tones of Roedelius and arrive at the high-tension electronics of Serge Blenner’s “Phonique”. Moebius & Beerbohm’s “Subito” follows in a flurry of tribal drumming, guttural distortion and corrosive drone, a synthesized translation of punk spirit which mellows into the soft-focus serenade of Tyndall’s “Wolkenlos”, a thrilling contradiction of pastoral motifs and breathless tempo. Pyrolator’s 1981 creation “180°” maintains the lightening pace, lurching forward in bursts of chaotic drum programming and sampler abuse, sending you spinning out into the strange beauty of Die Partei’s “Guten Morgen In Köln”. Enmeshing fragments of musique concrète and yearning guitar with throbbing sequences and a rigid rhythm grid, the duo signpost a melodic destination finally delivered by Streetmark keyboardist Dorothea Raukes under her Deutsche Wertabeit alias. A fitting finale, “Auf Engelsflügeln” radiates human warmth and cosmic wonder, serving electronic emotion from start to finish.