Blau

Though superficially similar to its immediate predecessor, *Rot*, Conrad Schnitzler’s 1974 release *Blau* is entirely its own beast. Like *Rot*, it consists of two monumental excursions into abstract electronic music, conveyed to the listener in a cryptic monochromatic package with a one-word title. But where *Rot* was austere, demanding, and harsh almost to the point of belligerence, *Blau* is immersive, subtle, and even sometimes calming, giving the listener space to explore its sonic textures. It opens with “Die Rebellen Haben Sich in Den Bergen Verstekt,” a simmering assemblage of metallic sounds that creeps along like the soundtrack to a sinister dream, all tension and no release. This is followed by “Jupiter,” an arrhythmic expanse of screeches and burbles that sounds like a transmission from an alien intelligence. The 2012 reissue of *Blau* on Bureau B includes six relatively brief bonus tracks, experiments in mood and texture that may remind some listeners of a more somber, technology-obsessed version of the electronic portraiture attempted by Brian Eno on releases like *Music for Films*.