3 out of 5

It’s really hard to get a read on Einstürzende Neubauten, which is, perhaps, part of their intended effect.  Its certainly an odd feeling, though, on an album like Tabula Rosa – blank slate, a funny name given how I’m about to describe this – how all of the pieces seem to fit together on one level but then every song somehow also feels like you’re starting over.  There’s a distancing sensation, a juxtaposition of Blixa Bargeld’s volatile, unsteady vocals on opener Die Interimsliebenden and the precision of the clanks and bleeps (another juxtaposition, or “organic” metallic sounds and computerized ones) which serve as the music; the sing-song of followup Zebulon which leads into the creepily recited poetry of Blume.  Tabula Rosa toys with the stops and starts, the music maintaining its somewhat cold vibe but alternating between more ambient / ethereal tracks and beat-based ones, until the unleashed nature of the opener is reflected in the two-part closer
Headcleaner.

An expected result of walling off the music as such – the lack of reliance on hooks or sustained beats, the deconstruction of whatever momentum the previous song had achieved – is, logically, to make the album a bit harder to get in to.  Your ears tune in to the interesting sounds, but your brain may take a few spins to know what to make of it.

The cornucopia of infested fruit on the cover is a fitting image – a flush mix, left out in the open for deconstruction – though the album is much better than that comparison makes it sound.  Tabula Rosa is a great batch of songs and sounds, somewhat purposefully stitched together for a rather divisive listening experience.