About This Item
Vinyl LP pressing. Originally released in 1973. There's something perversely fabulous about the thought of this warped masterwork wandering into 60,000 unsuspecting British homes in 1973. Faust's second-and-a-half album hit the shops to celebrate their signing to the nascent Virgin Records, who were looking to take advantage of the zeitgeist for German music at that time. Undeterred by the fact the band's unwillingness to engage with the commercial landscape had seen them dropped from Polydor, Branson and co. Cooked up a suitably spectacular marketing strategy, selling the LP for 49p, the bargain price of a single. What was lurking within the grooves was a condensed collage of outtakes, oddities, sketches and samples previously known to the band's nearest and dearest as The Faust Party Tapes - and how you wish you'd been to those parties. Cacophonous keys and roaring drones splinter into a deranged hybrid of tumbling toms and yelping vocals; committed experimentalism which in no way prepares you for the beautiful ballad which follows. Armed with acoustic guitar, playful piano and panning vocals, Faust fashion a pastoral idyll imbued with the most profound yearning. InchFlashback CarusoInch brims with Byrds-ian jangle and Syd's psychedelia, it's non-sensical English lending the piece a Confucian lyricism perfect for expanded minds. Sliced and spliced between TV snippets, dissonant trumpet and the sound of someone pissing, the utterly freaky fuzz-rock of InchJ'ai Mal Aux DentsInch sounds positively radio-friendly, far less far out than if it were encountered alone. Compared to the non-musical madness beside it, this thrash-jazz trance dance makes perfect sense, as does the corrosive breakbeat of InchTwo Drums, Bass, OrganInch, a mutant funk workout which rivals Can in an all-German dance off. The progressive and symphonic InchDr. SchwittersInch, dissected by fragments o
