He created techno by accident, and he's still a bit bemused by it all
In December 1981, Manuel Göttsching was due to fly from his native Berlin to Hamburg. In need of some music for his Walkman, he decided to record an idea that he was working on. Thirty-two years later, the reverberations of his work in Studio Roma that Saturday evening are still being felt. In terms of modern dance music's DNA, the hour-long piece that he produced, E2-E4, is as important as any disco, funk or Kraftwerk record. Recorded in one take, with Göttsching improvising keyboards and noodly guitar over its insistent synthesizer patterns and metallic percussion – a process made possible by the recent advent of the sequencer – E2-E4 distilled the classical minimalism of Terry Riley and Steve Reich into a groove that became a Paradise Garage anthem. In 1989, it was rebooted by Italians Sueño Latino as a rave era chill-out classic.
E2-E4 remains as influential today, its sparse, hypnotic repetition echoing through the minimal techno moves of Basic Channel and Ricardo Villalobos, while its proto-Balearic reverie has inspired LCD Soundsystem and cosmic disco producers such as Lindstrøm. Yet Göttsching himself – who plays London's Oval Space this week alongside deep house producer Henrik Schwarz, his first show in the capital since selling out the Royal Albert Hall in 2000 – is still surprised by his status as a techno godfather. Growing up, he loved the machine-like funk of James Brown and, visiting New York, he fell for the Latin rhythms that clearly influenced E2-E4, but this one-time Krautrock pioneer – he led the 70s band, Ash Ra Tempel – is a serious, avant garde musician.
"When I found out E2-E4 was played in clubs, I couldn't imagine people dancing to it," he says. "There's not a strong bass drum and the rhythm is very subtle. I took ideas from dance music, but my composing goes more into the minimalist style of Steve Reich, Philip Glass. It could be played with an orchestra." He reminds us that when E2-E4 was finally released in 1984, at the height of synth-pop, the critics hated it. "The first German critique called it complete 'muzak' and said that I'd missed every development in electronic music and I didn't know anything."
At 61, and now a grand old man of German culture (as well as making music, he runs the production company, CV Films; his wife is the documentary film-maker Ilona Ziok), Göttsching is not one for obedient crowd-pleasing. His Oval Space set won't reprise "the hit"; instead, he will play a selection of his material, including synthesizer music from that period when the Krautrock generation, including members of Can, Neu! and Cluster, began to explore electronics.
Göttsching remembers the 1960s as a heady time, as German youth tried to make a new culture, one distinct from both Anglophone rock and the country's Nazi past. "There was no real business structure so this was all very experimental music." Ash Ra Tempel were certainly out there. In 1972, Göttsching even recorded an album with LSD evangelist Timothy Leary. Having escaped from prison in the US, the countercultural icon had travelled, via Algeria, to Switzerland. There, Ash Ra Tempel recorded Seven Up, with Leary on vocals. Göttsching was apprehensive about this "guru", but was charmed by a "smart guy, who liked drinking, good food, driving his Porsche. He had a beautiful [singing] voice."
Göttsching himself was never particularly into drugs. Instead, ambient electronics and minimalist guitar (his style, some suggest, influenced U2's The Edge) were his path to a higher state of consciousness. "There were drugs around. But, for me, I cannot say that they were important. I tried this and that, but I decided music was a drug."
But what of those getting high off Göttsching's supply? Given his influence, both direct and indirect, on so much of what is happening in modern music, we asked him to give us his verdict on some of those following in the footsteps of E2-E4.'
A Göttsching Going On: How does Manuel rate his musical descendants? We played him a few e2-e4-influenced tracks to find out
Ricardo Villalobos – Fizheuer Zieheuer
A 40-minute minimal techno classic
"In my understanding, it's not minimal music in its classical sense. I would call this 'slow-motion' style, extremely time-stretched music. You may like it or not."
Oneohtrix Point Never – Sleep Dealer
Leftfield, loop-based experimentation
"He supported me in 2010 in Paris, and played interesting sounds with an old vintage keyboard."
James Holden – Renata (Daphni Mix)
Tripped-out future garage odyssey
"Builds with great variety. I like it."
The Field – Over The Ice
Dreamily, dramatically manipulated loops
"To not become boring, sequenced loops have to treated carefully, either changing the loop often or its sound and tonality, as on E2-E4. I don't hear much fluid, gradual manipulation here."
Prins Thomas – Göettsching
Cosmic disco producer pays tribute
"I felt honoured. It nicely recalls my use of melodic echoes and delays."
LCD Soundsystem – 45:33
Inspired by Göttsching, who was upset that its initial artwork mimicked E2-E4
"Musically, there is nothing related to E2-E4 – it's just a 'megamix' of his work."
Manuel Göttsching plays Need2Soul at Oval Space, E2, Thu
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