In our particular reality, in this particular timeline, we’ll never know how Wolfgang Riechmann’s career would have turned out had he not been stabbed to death in 1978. Wolfgang Riechmann — who was in a band with Neu!’s Michael Rother and Kraftwerk’s Wolfgang Flür, the drummer that Ralph and Florian fucked over and turned into a hippy by being wankers. Wolfgang Riechmann — who was blessed from birth with the greatest name available, ‘Wolfgang’ meaning not ‘a gang of wolves’ but ‘wandering wolf,’ which is awesome. Wolfgang Riechmann — who made this lovely little bit of early synth pop before popping off his mortal coil. Would he have gone to shit in the 80s like all his contemporaries? Maybe. Probably. Maybe not though, which is sad. We can only guess what he would have done, which is what I’ll do in a bit (guess).
Finished just before that tragic stabbing incident in 1978 but released three weeks after — not because he was stabbed but because that was when it was due out (that’s what’s tragic about it, you see?) — Wunderbar (which means literally ‘a wonderful bar,’ like Club Tropicana or any bar located on a beach pretty much, like the one in Lethal Weapon… one of the Lethal Weapon movies [2? Not sure*]) is a very palatable drop of ambienty, poppy, German-y late-70s synthesizer music. It’s enjoyable, it’s playful (that’s maybe why it’s enjoyable), it’s fairly light (weight not luminescence) as far as one can prescribe a weight to sound, and it’s pleasant. And actually, I think pleasant is a really good word to describe it all. And simple. Pleasant and simple. That’s it, lightly fizzing languorous sines with minimal soft bass notes and the occasional airy taste of the one-finger keyboard solo lingering on the nose.
There’s stuff on here that you’ll most probably like if you enjoy late-70s Kraftwerk. In fact, something like the fifth track, “Himmelblau” — if you like Kraftwerk and you don’t like that, then I’d say that was odd and maybe you’re in denial. What I’m saying is it sounds exactly like Kraftwerk. Except the vocal that comes in halfway through that sort of sounds like he’s taking the piss a bit going lalala la la lala la la. Apart from that, it’s just like Kraftwerk.
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See? And I also reckon he must have been watching some John Carpenter flicks because “Silberland” is straight-up JC. A heartbeat bassline** with inquisitive mystery synths sliding about the place***. A feeling of impending plot, like something is probably going to happen and it’s probably going to be a bit tense. It’s verging on being tense, y’know? That kind of thing.
This sort of ambient synth pop seems to be experiencing a mini-renaissance at the moment; recently, I was at an Oneohtrix Point Never show, sold out and packed to the gills with people digging the electric seagull soundscapes, so the reissue on Bureau B last year seems like a timely reminder that the Düsseldorf lot totally nailed it in the 70s. I wonder if Riechmann himself would be selling out shows these days had he not been knifed. He might be, but following the template of his contemporaries, he’d probably be doing it as part of a disappointing supergroup reunion à la Harmonia. Or maybe he’d be producing U2 albums. It’s all speculation anyway, but in all likelihood we would have probably got another two decent albums out of him.
Shame, but at least we got this one, and this one is lovely.
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* Actually starting to think now that it’s not a Lethal Weapon movie I’m thinking of at all, and maybe it’s one of the FX: The Art of Illusion movies (1 or 2). Or another movie altogether.
** As in a bassline like a heartbeat not the bassline from the bucolic police romance television series Heartbeat starring Nick Berry.
***Although weirdly, Nick Berry is a bit like an inquisitive mystery synth himself in Heartbeat, sliding about the place. Just a thought. Oh god, all this will mean nothing to Americans will it.
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