These were part of the totally confused early-1980's Cologne "Neue Deutsche Welle" scene, interconnected with Dunkelziffer and SYPH. The sole document of their existence was the 12" EP known as "4 Bytes" - a little gem, in which Bit's offered a typically Can inspired music. This CD has that, plus a whole load of bonus tracks, some in the spirit of the original record: Home-Run, Ladykill and Can Beee, all suitably wacked-out twisted Can like stuff. Some of the other tracks I could have done without (more punky or more techno stuff), but I'm finicky you know!

This album has grown very familiar as I have been attempting to find the time to review it for some time now. Sat in front of the TV the night before we civilized British celebrate the burning of another human being in effigy (4/11/03), waiting for CSI: MIAMI to deliver heinous crime direct to my living room, an advert came on with a cool deep rhythm. Seemed familiar. No wonder - it was either the opening track from this album or a colour-bleached facsimile (things always sound weaker on the tube - perhaps diluted to pour easier into the progressively vegitated cerebellum). The track had become so indelibly imprinted upon me - long ponderings on how to describe it in this review.

This is not a one dimensional album. For although the tempo stays pretty much the same throughout (with the possible exception of the oddly commercial "Speed"), their approach changes throughout, and you find the album is separated into several 'sections', the enjoyably lacksidasical atmosphere rolling from focused spatial workouts, through an assortment of recognizable genres, to a CAN-like sprawling workout.

The first couple of tracks are perhaps the roughest and less Prog-tinted than those further on. That opener - the comparison came to me - sounds very much like something from a PIL session, if one had existed, between the first album and "Metal Box" - very live ambience (you can almost sense a large empty room within the sound), determined relentless rhythm along with silly voices and squeaky toys. The second piece too could have been from "Metal Box" - back when there was a sense of excitement to the music, together with the chance that at any point where 'professionalism' might melt away and the session collapse into a less than harmonic mess.

The third piece shows it's CAN roots more obviously, assimilating a more acceptable sound with 'Prog' guitar squigglery. The fourth piece departs even further from the PIL ref. with a kinda hard groove Blues. The drummer punches through this laid back album with a rock-solid-steady approach, sounding as crisp and determined as a teeth-gritted MARTIN ATKINS. And while there are few percussive fireworks, it's compensated by the sheer limpet unwillingness to fade into the background.

The references so far on this review might suggest a much harder album than it actually is. In truth this is a nice, laid-back, easy listening journey. But it lack of hazy directionless self-indulgence manages to create a deceptive divide between the full-beam, wired group and their lulled and entranced audience.

"Speed" could almost be JAN HAMMER diluted into brisk breezy happy optimism. Pert little keyboards suggest the wallpaper music which seemed so 'In' during the 80's - soundtrack music from those Brat Pack movies about tedious love lives, dancing, partying, getting into financial difficulties, coming to terms with friends dying and other things which you might empathise with more were the actors not so bloody annoying, and so far outside most people's social experience as to appear like some experiment gone wrong.

There are moments where CAN-like improvs seem to appear - someone tries a groove, the others lock in and the entire thing takes on a trancy, non-vocal mantra like feel - chanting for the hands. A female voice, so fragile it could be sucked back into the vacuum of space-time and erased from memory plays in the dusty corners of the studio, mouse-timid yet driven to deliver whatever message it carries. These tracks fade in and out - suggesting high points from long-drawn-out sessions. And while the ham-fisted fades give it a rough and ragged feel, it's nice to know such solid music has an intrinsic scruffiness.

Eclectic in approach, they absorb Dub, Reggae, Blues, Progressive Rock, 80's Pop Rock and a myriad other styles into something which sits outside the mainstream, maybe even outside those who consider themselves 'Outside The Mainstream'. Both acceptable yet obscure? Extreme MOR harcore easy listening?

Originally reviewed for Metamorphic Journeyman.