

Combining the timeless mythical with Tinseltown's modernity. That title alone conveyed the fantastic and colourful in two everyday words. It was 1971, two years on from their debut album Monster Movie. Years before Joe Strummer said it, Can knew that the future was unwritten. Flushing the listener with potentialities. Kaleidoscopic and ever-shifting, those colours cascade out of the speakers. Can filled German youth's black and white nothing with shades and hues of possibilities. To leave behind a permanently scarred past for the virgin territories of the instant. Intent on a change towards righteousness. In 1968, the core quartet of Holger Czukay, Irmin Schmidt, Michael Karoli and Jaki Liebezeit, along with singer Malcolm Mooney, formed Can. They were born into a colourless vacuum, a void. But the young generation, those born during and just after the war, saw the wrong in that evil cause but there was no righteous one to take its place. They resumed their posts as teachers, doctors and other pseudo-respectables. All those lay-fascists didn't simply spontaneously combust. The dregs of the Nazi-dream still clung to the clifftop by their fingernails. And Adolf Hitler's murderous crusade was no longer their cause. The Swastika no longer adorned the streets, "blood and honour" was no longer the people's creed. With the fall of the Third Reich in 1945, a national uniform was burned.


For over a decade, the nation was defined by Nazism, war, genocide and delusions of superiority. Bombed-out literally, culturally and spiritually, the people were left identity-less. Perfect Sound Forever: Can's Tago Mago CAN
