Alright, buckle up. This one’s gonna hit different. Aleph² Studio: The Lost Tapes 1982-1985 by Various is a wild ride through the forgotten corners of German electronic jazz that somehow feels both ancient and futuristic at the same time. It’s like someone dug up a time capsule from an alternate universe where Kraftwerk got drunk with Sun Ra and decided to make music on broken synths they found in a dumpster.
First off, let’s talk about "Von Afrika Nach Grönland." Holy crap, this track slaps harder than it has any right to. You’ve got these glitchy drum machine patterns that sound like they were recorded on a busted tape deck, but somehow it works? The bassline groans like it's pissed off at life, while these weird little synth stabs pop in and out like some dude just randomly pressing keys in a lab. And then there’s this saxophone solo—yeah, you heard me right, a saxophone—that comes screaming in halfway through like it owns the damn place. I don’t know who played it, but whoever did deserves a medal or maybe a restraining order because this thing doesn’t quit. Every time I hear it, I feel like my brain’s being rewired into thinking chaos sounds beautiful.
Then there’s "Necluus," which is basically the opposite vibe but equally nuts. This one starts slow, all moody and atmospheric, like walking into a foggy alley in Berlin at 3 AM. But then BAM—it drops into this pulsating rhythm that feels like your heartbeat syncing up with the apocalypse. There are moments when the track almost falls apart, like the machines can’t keep up with themselves, but instead of ruining it, it makes everything more raw, more real. It’s not polished; it’s alive. Like, if robots could cry, this would be their breakup song.
The rest of the album follows suit—Adrian Mondstein kicks things off with a jazzy intro that tricks you into thinking you’re safe before the chaos unfolds, and Izukuio closes it out with something so experimental it might as well be called “What If Music Had Nightmares?” Honestly, every track here feels like flipping through channels on an old TV set stuck between static and genius.
So yeah, The Lost Tapes isn’t for everyone. If you want your music clean and predictable, go listen to whatever Spotify algorithm nonsense is trending today. But if you’re down for something that challenges your ears and messes with your mind, this is the golden ticket. Germany in the early '80s was clearly a breeding ground for mad scientists disguised as musicians, and Aleph² gave them a playground to lose their minds in.
And honestly? Listening to this makes me wonder how many other lost tapes are sitting in basements somewhere, waiting to blow our collective minds. Or maybe we’re better off not knowing. Either way, crank this sucker loud and let it ruin your expectations of what music should be. Peace out.
