Amon Düül was originally the house band of a radical political commune in Munich, Germany (formed in 1967) that embraced a communtarian spirit when it came to band membership. A core group of the more competent musicians split off to form a band based on a more conventional strategy of vetting band members and Amon Düül II was born.
After signing with United Artists in 1969 the band recorded several LPs mixing German and English lyrics, and psychedelic and progressive rock. Renate Knaup provides distinctive female vocals and the quality is pretty consistently good across their albums during this period (Original band Amon Düül itself is another matter).
After 1975 they moved to what was intended to be a more commercial sound, though that didn't seem to have the intended result outside of Germany (and maybe not even there).
A recent discussion of Pink Floyd and space rock led to a mention of Amon Düül II, and the comparison is valid (up to a point). The Best Of The UA Years 1969 - 1974 is a very nicely programmed best-of that will provide all needed reference points.
One of those "import" bands that I never really heard on the radio, nor had exposure to through adventurously inclined friends. Will I find something to dig this time? Who can say?
ReplyDeleteYes, it's bitte schön, meine süß Apfelstrudel! to Psychfan for making this a Teutonic week to remember at th' Insel au' Schaum©!
ReplyDeletehttps://www.mediafire.com/file/qtikf9q26ma44uy/@m0n+Düül+II.rar/file
Thanks PF!! Totally Kosmiche!
ReplyDeleteinteresting how people tend to dismiss original ''Amon Duul''with out the II personally I find them a hoot kinda like the first ''Red Crayola'' lp lots of weird percussion and sounds made by (non) musicians aquired taste I recon a taste https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAfXqfZeJ6k
ReplyDeleteAll three of their albums were recorded in a single all-night session by the non-musician members of the commune, hence the general scorn (particularly from the AD II people, who were mostly miffed that the no-talents got a recording deal before they did). But, yes, I agree that dismissing them out of hand is a bit rash - Paradiswärts*, for example, does have its appealing moments.
Delete_____
*Sometimes brilliantly translated in a venereal-type way as "Paradise Warts". (It should be "Paradiseward", "Towards Paradise" or "Paradise Bound".)
Early Punk also had an idealistic "anyone can do it" attitude and it's true that this will inevitably result in occasional brilliance. It's also inevitable that much of the time the results will be disappointing or worse. I tend to prefer tighter structure but I'm aware that this could be a blind spot.
ReplyDeleteThanks for that, Psychfan – culling the goodies from the UA material is as good a best-of as anybody could wish for. For anyone who’s puzzled, intrigued or merely curious to learn more about this kosmik krüü, there's a good interview on the Web with John Weinzierl, who, together with Chris Karrer, was the band’s musical driving force. He has quite a few interesting things to say, including this, which neatly takes us back to where this whole now-weeklong Krautfest am Foam started:
ReplyDelete"I think the only albums I ever really bought in my life were Sgt Pepper and Piper at the Gates of Dawn."
https://www.furious.com/perfect/amonduulii.html
For anyone who wants to explore beyond Psychfan’s krazy kompilation , here are a few tips ’n’ tricks for extended listening pleasure . You can safely pass over the first album (Phallus Dei) . It was shoddily recorded and most of the best songs appear, sounding much meatier, on Live in London anyway. The second, third and fourth albums - Yeti, Tanz der Lemminge/Dance of the Lemmings and Carnival in Babylon (1971-’72) are very much of a piece, built around what Weinzierl in that interview calls “multi-part suites” - informed as much by classical music (I even hear the influence of Uncle Joe Brahms in many of the chord progressions and transitions) as by rawk ’n’ roll or other “head music” that was swirling around in the red-Leb fug of the early ’70s. If, however, you prefer your Düüls with a somewhat more conventional, song-based bent, then you’ll be better catered for by the fifth and sixth albums, Wolf City and Vive la Trance. The albums that came after that (Hijack and beyond) have little to recommend them. They were pretty much treading Wasser by then.
Hope this hilfs.
Sidebar: The Night a Callow Teen Commüüned With the Düüls
ReplyDeleteDateline: The Stoneground, Manchester (England), 1973. I was all of 16. Clad in a ketchup-stained cheesecloth shirt and an oversized patchouli-sodden RAF greatcoat (that’s the Royal Air Force, not the Red Army Faction, which admittedly would have been more event-appropriate), and with my best gal by my side, I ventured into the legendary – it had been open for all of six months already - Stoneground for the first time. Imagine a long, low sleazedive with black-painted walls, UV lights, and a carpeted floor that bounced and squelched as you walked across it. Bad beer abounded and, inexplicably, there was a long queue for dollops of radioactive-green curry, apparently made from the carcasses of various unidentified mammal species, to be slopped onto the plastic plates of the unwary (I had been warned). Dope was in the air, acid tabs were in many a Lee-jean back pocket, and the liquid wheel whirled in slow motion on the back wall. After a support act so bad I was tempted to try the curry, the Düüls loped onto the stage. My memory is that there were so many of them they made the Neville Brothers look like a meat-and-potatoes three piece, but there were probably only six or seven on stage at any one time. This was only my second proper “heavy” gig, after seeing Black Sabbath the year before. And it was quite the experience. Renate Knaup-Krötenschwantz (= "Toad's Dick), the singer, wearing a long Wicked Witch of the West chartreuse frock and looking, as she so often did, as if someone had just punched her in the mouth, shrieked the night away like a lysergic Valkyrie (although all the “songs”, such as they were, were allegedly in English), while ring modulators throbbed up a Sturm and many, many overdriven guitars clanged with a Drang that Tony Iommi could only dream of ever managing. It was, viewed with objective hindsight, probably a disgraceful mess of a performance, but you know what? It was bang-on perfect for the time and the place and to serve as the soundtrack for my own transition from zitty teen to discerning (if still confused) adult. The mighty Düüls worked their München mojo on me that night, and I’ve refused to hear a word against them ever since.
Is it too late to ask which one's Amon?
ReplyDeleteYes, I'm afraid it is, Shug.
DeleteSECURITY!!
"Düül-ing Amons" was right there for a title.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately I am right here.
DeleteOr what about Rod Stewart's crack at the Krautrock songbook, " Never a Düül Moment"?
ReplyDeleteHis swing band arrangement of Can's "Father Cannot Yell" is scrumptious.
Yes. And Paulie's "nod to Krautrock" on the Magical Mystery Tour ep, Füül On The Hill, was one of the more successful tracks.
Delete... and leave us not forget the Paddyrock equivalent, spearheaded by Amon Andrüüz!
DeleteI'm surprised to see no mention yet of Brian Püül and the Tremeloes and their "Suddenlich Du Liebst Mich". Although it was Elvis, as always, who set the ball rolling with "Don't Be Crüül",
Delete... and Rock A Hüüla Baby.
Delete"Farquhar Throckmorton III, dis is your life".
ReplyDelete"Shiftin' whisprin' sands" over a motorik beat and great clanging gongs. And recorder.
ReplyDeletethanks for the düül.
ReplyDeletefor me german rock music started with Udo:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJ2QENfYKMM