Just in time to blow back the cold autumn winds, Bureau B delivers some serious heat, launching into an incredible reissue initiative, dedicated to the anarchic experimental mavericks, Faust, with three astounding new editions of the band’s legendary 1973 outing Faust IV. One of the defining statements by one of the most important and radical projects to emerge from Germany during the 1970s, within the movement loosely termed as “krautrock” or “kosmische”, if a single album captures the band’s enduring experimental spirit and wry humor - comprising infectious rhythms and grooves, amongst revolutionary approaches to the studio and sonic materiality - this has to be the one. Not only is it legendary on every possible set of terms, it’s easily one of the greatest albums of the 1970s, if not all time.

Of all the creative movements that sprang from the broad, global social and political ferment of the late 1960s and 70s, few were as truly revolutionary as the German movement subsequently referred to as “krautrock” and “kosmische”. Collectively representing one of the most radical bodies of 20th century sound, this movement was not a movement at all, but rather a creative zeitgeist, comprising a loose constellation of artists and bands - often working with little or no awareness of each other - that fused avant-garde approaches with elements of rock, prog, psychedelia, folk, jazz, electronic music, and numerous other touchstones, crystalized into highly individualized forms of countercultural sonority. Difficult to discern and track at the time, with the gift of hindsight, over the past few decades interest has continuously swirled around projects like Kraftwerk, Cluster, Can, Popol Vuh, Agitation Free, Amon Düül, Ash Ra Tempel, Neu!, Tangerine Dream, Guru Guru, Harmonia, and numerous others, but arguably no single band represents the true revolutionary spirit of the German musical underground of this period better than the Wümme based project, Faust, now receiving a dedicated reissue initiative from the venerable Bureau B. Regarded as one of the “originators & central pillars of the Krautrock genre”, noted for their uses of dissonance, improvisation, and experimental electronic approaches that would subsequently influence the inceptions of both ambient and industrial music, Faust was equally among the most principled and anarchic projects within the German scene of the era, working steadily across the 1970s and 80s, producing a small handful of full-lengths that continue to feel vital and groundbreaking today. High among the band’s most celebrated releases is ‘Faust IV’, recorded for the fledgling Virgin Records, and issued in 1973. A wry jab at the recording industry, balancing Faust’s singular approach to experimentalism with infectious grooves and striking melodic sensibilities, it has remained among the most celebrated releases by their original line-up. It’s nothing short of a visionary landmark that feels as fresh and groundbreaking today as when it was released more than half a century ago, rendering a potent gut punch to the heart and mind, and leaving little question why Robert Dimery included it in his book ‘1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die’.

Formed in part at the prompting of the German record producer, journalist, and film critic, Uwe Nettelbeck - equally noted for his work with Anthony Moore and Slapp Happy - in 1971, Faust’s original membership comprised Werner "Zappi" Diermaier, Hans Joachim Irmler, Arnulf Meifert, Jean-Hervé Péron, Rudolf Sosna, and Gunther Wüsthoff. Based at a rural commune in Wümme, despite the band’s unmistakably anarchic approach to sound construction - deploying unconventional objects and electronics alongside more conventional rock instrumentation, and a strong disposition for dissonance, alongside improvisational and experimental approaches - the band quickly signed to Polydor and set to work on their now legendary, self-titled debut, issued later that same year. While gaining a strong following and critical response, the album failed to meet their label’s expectations for sales, setting the writing on the wall. Shedding Arnulf Meifert and settling into the line-up that would define the band over the next few years, the band’s follow-up, ‘So Far’, issued in 1972, while slightly less abrasive than its predecessor, equally failed on commercial terms and found them booted off of Polydor. As it turned out, this was a blessing in disguise. Following a slight period of being adrift, Faust signed to the fledgling English imprint, Virgin Records, and 1973 turned out to be the most prolific year of their career.

Faust’s emergence onto the English market, via their signing to Virgin, was something of a historic event. Not only was their first release with the label, ‘The Faust Tapes’, among the first widespread encounters with the German musical underground for listeners outside of the movement’s home country, but the label embarked on a unique marketing campaign, making the album - a collage of private recordings not originally intended for release - affordable at an incredibly low price, that led to it reportedly selling over 100,000 copies. Shortly after the album’s release, the band embarked upon their now legendary collaboration with Tony Conrad, ‘Outside The Dream Syndicate’ - among the most historically important documents within the canon of experimental music - and then entered the studio to record ‘Faust IV’, the final document of their roughly original line-up, before once again being dropped by their label.

While it is their last full-length with Virgin, in many ways it was intended as the first fully conceived release with the label, presumably setting the stage for an enduring run. Working for the first time outside of their rustic headquarters in Wümme - a former schoolhouse, overflowing with cabling, hand-built electronics, and a host of other instruments - the label set them up at The Manor, Virgin's newly established studio in Oxfordshire, offering them fairly limitless creative freedom. There was only one catch: Virgin wanted a hit. In classical form, the sessions stretched and the budget vanished, as Faust quintessentially formed one of their most striking releases to date: ‘Faust IV’, one part middle finger to the expectations of the establishment, one part creatively visionary, sprawling as an uneven, restless body of sonority across its eight tracks, over two sides.

Within historical context, the recording and release of ‘Faust IV’ lies roughly inside a year or so of Neu!’s self-titled debut and its followup, ‘Neu!2’; Kraftwerk's 'Kraftwerk 2' and 'Ralf & Florian'; Popol Vuh's 'Hosianna Mantra', Can's 'Ege Bamyasi' and 'Future Days', Cluster's 'Cluster II' and 'Zuckerzeit’; Amon Düül's 'Disaster', Ash Ra Tempel's 'Schwingungen'; and numerous other groundbreaking works of what has become known as “krautrock” and “kosmische”. There was clearly something in the air, and this was exactly what Virgin was hoping to capitalize upon when signing Faust. Amusingly, the call for a single was answered by the pointedly titled ‘Krautrock’, a wry distillation of the more superficial aspects associated with the movement - cycling, repetitive grooves and a motorik pulse - sprawling to nearly 12 minutes in length: roughly four times as long as a standard, radio friendly edit at the time. Viewed out of context, the track could easily be mistaken for being a quintessentially definitive track of the genre, and in a way it is, but like so much of what Faust produced there is conflict between meaning and intention, and the aesthetics of sound. Perhaps more pertinently, while the track flirts with the hypnotically infectious, over time it devolves into states of tape manipulation and studio trickery, producing a sense of time bending space that can be seen as a foundational stone within the subsequent development of ambient music.

Much of ‘Faust IV’ progresses and develops on simpler terms, though these kinds of binary conflicts tend to exist across the album as whole, rather than as with the singular track form of ‘Krautrock’. ‘Jennifer’, plays to the pop ballad, albeit in an off-kilter formation, while ‘Just a Second (Starts Like That!)’ unfurls as a minimalist psych jam before fragmenting into competing time signatures and overlapping loops, "Picnic on a Frozen River, the space beautiful of Deuxième Tableux" drifts further into ambient territory, and "Giggy Smile" unfurls into garage-rock territory, filtered through tape echo and distortion. A true product of Faust’s anarchic spirit, despite the industry push and plenty of studio time, the Manor sessions failed to produce enough material for a full LP, pushing the band back into its own archives to flesh out the rest. The result is a brilliant time bending collage on multiple terms - part studio artifact, part sonic salvage, part creative meditation, and part whole-hearted wrench in the cogs - that remains fresh and forward thinking more than half a century after it first emerged. While they did create a mythic, unreleased follow-up for Virgin, ‘Faust IV’ effectively spelled the end for the mainstream recording industry’s ambitions for the band, leading to them being dropped and their fading from view before resurfacing intermittently over the 80s, 90s, and beyond. Every way you look at it, this is the record that cemented the legend that continues to endure.

Remarkably, despite its legendary status within the confines of underground rock, ‘Faust IV’ has remained largely out of print on vinyl since its original release, making Bureau B’s brand new editions that much more urgent and needed. A marvel of Faust’s enduring creative vision, it blows out the scales and is just about as essential as they come.