"La Freiheit des Geistes", a collaborative album by Tom Dokoupil and Walter Dahn under the moniker "Die Partei", emerged in 1981 with a fusion of Kraut electronica and early NDW vibes. Fast forward 43 years, their latest release "Celaviemachinery" reflects a refreshed sound rooted in their artistic origins. With dreamy landscapes and nods to influential records, the album is not just a homage but a testament to compositional beauty, inviting listeners into hypnotic experiences across its twelve tracks, reaffirming Die Partei's enduring significance in contemporary electronic music. In 1981 a curious record appeared on the "1000 Augen" label, its cover graced with the image of Arno Breker's statue "The Great Torchbearer". The album was "La Freiheit des Geistes", a collaboration between Wirtschaftswunder guitarist Tom Dokoupil and the multitalented artist (and a student of Beuys) Walter Dahn, collectively known as "Die Partei". The music they produced in the course of a week-long session oated enchantingly in the ether, between worlds. On the one hand, there are clear traces of 1970s and early 1980s Kraut electronica, echoes of Cluster or Neu! and an af nity to Manuel GAttsching and Michael Rother. Saxophones, mellotrons and analogue synthesizers disappear through sequencer trails, dotted with "Star Trek" references and guitar samples. On the other hand, there is a certain edginess which is not so far removed from the hectic nature of early NDW (German New Wave) as it emerged in the Federal Republic aEUR" and, in anticipation of future electronica, a compositional rigour associated with the likes of Thomas Fehlmann and 90s techno. Now, some 43 years later, "Die Partei" are back. Dokoupil and Dahn spent a little longer working on the new album: a full two years. "Celaviemachinery" is an apposite title for a machine of sentimentality such as this. Thoroughly refreshed in terms of sound, Die Partei are clearly speaking to the 21st century, but even more so "Mouchette" on the cover transports us back to a world in which European art was still wild. "Celaviemachinery" opens with a dreamy soundtrack to a return journey. "La Freiheit des Geistes" began with a "Guten Morgen in KAln" and ended with "Nord-SA1/4d-Fahrt". Here, the direction is reversed as we embark on a "SA1/4d-Nord-Fahrt". Back we go, pulsating pleasantly, the old beatbox on the luggage rack ceding centre stage to the musical landscapes passing by the window. Time and again, old vinyl friends appear eetingly on the horizon. Could that be Harald Grosskopf? That looks like Tyndall's "Traumland" and, even if Walter Dahn never tires of citing "Ralf & Florian" as the most important record in the Kraftwerk catalogue, tracks like "Domino" or the title track itself are audibly reminiscent thereof. A genuine remake pops up in the form of "Untitled Filmstill": this is what "India" would have sounded like if Roxy Music had been a German band. "Celaviemachinery" is far more than an exercise in borrowing, however, the album lives primarily through its compositional beauty. The elegaic luxury of "Here come the warm jets" or "Autoselbstfahrer", which revolves gleefully on its own axis, the ominously fraught "Nacht zum Tag" or the conciliatory melancholy of the nal piece "Heb mich auf". It all amounts to a beautiful experience, inviting the listener to dive into twelve short hypnosis sessions (over and over). Anyone familiar with Dokoupil and Dahn's machineries will understand how lucky we are to have Die Partei with us again. It just so happens that they are always right.

1 Süd-Nord-Fahrt
2 Auf Und Ab
3 Die Drei
4 Here Come the Warm Jets
5 Domino
6 Heisenberg
7 Celaviemachinery
8 Salz Und Gold
9 Nacht Zum Tag
10 Untitled Filmstill
11 Autoselbstfahrer
12 Heb Mich Auf