Innholdsfortegnelse for April 2017 i UNCUT

“Keeps spiders in her pocket/Collects fly-wings in a jar…” THERE are some musicians who quietly get on with their work, and there are others who can somehow turn the business of making music into a heroic adventure, a physical exploration as much as a sonic one. They can be the source of some great stories and Björk, our cover star this month, is no exception. Anohni, for instance, has a good tale about recording Volta with her in New York, where the singer suddenly decided the whole operation should decamp to Jamaica for a few weeks. She tells of how Björk went swimming out to sea one night. “I was so nervous about it,” Anohni remembers. “Her friend said, ‘Don’t worry, she does this all the time!’ I marvelled at…

“The drinking and smoking helped me get enthused about the songs again” “I THINK it’s all to do with getting older,” says James Mercer, addressing his latter tendency to revisit the past through song. “There’s a certain fondness with which I seem to be remembering certain parts of my life. Things used to seem so miserable – and while you’re a teenager, it sucks – but now I look back and think it wasn’t so bad. This might be the most nostalgic record I’ve ever made.” Mercer, who turned 46 over Christmas, is talking about Heartworms, the fifth studio effort from The Shins, the Grammy-winning band he’s been fronting, give or take the odd hiatus, for the past two decades. It’s an album brimming with busy electronica and layered meta-pop,…

“IF it is a protest record, it would be a protest record against human beings at their very core,” Benjamin John Power tells Uncut , the sometime Fuck Button chewing over World Eater, his third album as Blanck Mass. It is his musical response to the 360-degree grimness of 2016; a cut-and-paste howl of apocalyptic rhythms and mangled voices interspersed with moments of sublime, melodic clarity – mass murder on the dancefloor, if you will. “There’s a lot of me and some ambient recordings of a local choir,” explains Worcester-raised Power. “My favourite field recordings on the record are the drumkit being pushed down the stairs accompanied by my underwater screaming at the beginning of ‘Minnesota’, leading into hydrophone recordings both from…

COCO Hames spent nearly 10 years fronting the Nashville garage-pop trio The Ettes, who released five albums and quietly dissolved in the early 2010s. When she began writing her first solo album, she only knew it had to sound very different. “I wanted to get away from my beloved Nuggets and Pebbles and all those garage cuts that I love so much. And I didn’t miss writing those Ettes songs over and over. It was very formulaic – and I can say that, because I wrote them!” Coco Hames reveals a songwriter with remarkable range and reach, from the gentle Appalachian lilt of “Tennessee Hollow” to the torch-song testifying of “I Do Love You”. The latter was written, she explains,…

8/10 SPOON’S distinct identity, a deft balance of concision, swagger, vulnerability and taut grooves, coalesced on 2001’s Girls Can Tell. The following year, Austin-based co-founders Britt Daniel and Jim Eno perfected their recipe with the following year’s minimalist masterpiece Kill The Moonlight, an album that still sounds radical a decade and a half later. After four more beguiling and nervy albums, Daniel and Eno have made another sonic shift as bold and striking as the Girls-Kill segue, but in this case the transition is expansive rather than reductive. 2014’s They Want My Soul – satisfying if unsurprising – was the first to feature co-producer Dave Fridmann, yet it’s on Hot Thoughts that his influence is felt strongest, with Spoon’s standard instrumentation manipulated in a manner analogous to David Bowie, Brian…

8/10 ON the final song of their last studio album, Munki, Jim and William Reid articulated a number of pressing concerns regarding their immediate situation. “I Hate Rock’n’Roll” captured the Mary Chain at breaking point, jaded with the record industry, their own place within it and with one another. “I hate rock’n’roll,” sang William caustically. “I hate it ’cos it fucks with my soul.” This was 1998, 14 years after the band’s uncompromising debut single, “Upside Down”. The hullabaloo of those early years – the riots, the hair, Psychocandy – had steadily given way to something that, by the late ’90s, looked like a regular career. Even the Reids’ infernal squabbling had been upstaged by the Gallaghers. Dispirited, the band broke up three months after Munki was released. Happily, Jim…

8/10 IF punk’s not dead in 2017, it’s because the term today has come to refer not so much to a sound as to a network – an underground community of DIY venues, cottage-industry labels and political activists, bonded by ethics, philosophy and a protest stance. Indeed, it feels significant that many of the world’s best contemporary punk group shun genre formalism in favour of chasing their own distinct sound. To that list, you can add Sheer Mag. A relatively young five-piece from Philadelphia, they draw inspiration from the strains of 1970s rock’n’roll that the first wave of punk threatened to wash away: the gleaming hooks of power-pop groups like Cheap Trick, and the burly riffing of hard-rock classicists like Thin Lizzy, Lynyrd Skynyrd and ZZ Top. Often, steals from…

8/10 EVEN among the most dedicated collectors, Marvin Gardens are a rare prize. The San Francisco quintet released just one EP (limited to 100 pressings on their own pop-up label) during their short lifespan. They auditioned for Warner Bros, played the hippest clubs in the Bay Area and opened for some of the biggest names of the late’60s, yet fate ensured they came to nothing. Quite how they never made it is something of a mystery, certainly judging by the power of this belated compilation. 1968 gathers up the four EP tracks, recorded in the summer of that year, plus demos and a live show from the Matrix, Jefferson Airplane’s favourite hangout. The key to Marvin Gardens’ sound was 21-year-old singer/guitarist Carol Duke, a big-lunged Texan, raised in Bakersfield, whose…

“There was freedom… we could do what we wanted”ROGER GLOVER WHEN Deep Purple sets to work, they do so guided by the Horse’s Eye. Last summer, the band began writing material for their 20th and possibly final studio album, inFinite . They assembled first for a week in Portugal to blow out the cobwebs, and then for a longer session in Germany at the facility they own there: gear storage, soundstages for production rehearsal, practice rooms. “We turn up at the rehearsal room every day at noon and have a cup of tea,” says singer Ian Gillan. “Talk about family, new car, dog, football… then get into the studio and start jamming. Stop at 3pm for another cup of tea. Everything gets recorded. We go off into the wilderness –…

ROGER GLOVER: “The words fait accompli come to mind. Our managers Tony Edwards and John Coletta were very involved with EMI. We had some success and they announced one day at a group meeting that they were forming a record company. But they didn’t say they were, they said, ‘You are.’ Oh, right. They said it’s going to be called Purple Records, and be one of EMI’s roster. You think to yourself, ‘It’s nice to think success is changing things.’ “I can see some good things. But looking back at it years later, it was their label, not ours and they got a world-famous band to sign to it for nothing. We owned maybe 25 per cent, which turned out to be 25 per cent of…

DOUG Weston’s adventurous streak extended to his funny bone. The Troubadour had a reputation for booking emerging and often controversial comic talent that other clubs were reluctant to hire, including Richard Pryor, George Carlin and Lord Buckley. Weston gave Lenny Bruce a platform when the comic was facing charges for obscenity and possession of narcotics. He was arrested the day after his Troub show on October 22, 1962, charged with violating California’s obscenity law for uttering the word ‘schmuck’. The case ended the following year in a mistrial. Stoner duo Cheech and Chong were discovered in 1970 by Lou Adler during a hoot night, and Steve Martin was a regular in the bar in the glory days. He arrived as a banjo player and left as a comic star. Opening…

IN the entity that is The Pretenders, my job is to make it sound good on the road, that’s always been the best bit. It doesn’t matter whether I’m on the album or not. You can’t really explain a time signature to Chrissie, she’s not musical in that way, she just knows what sounds right. Her instincts are always fantastic, she delegates brilliantly, and so we construct the sound that we make just by turning up. We’re a rock band, she’s the best there is, and that’s who I like to work with. Everything’s been going well on the Stevie [Nicks] tour, but what I’ve noticed is how great Chrissie is. I’ve never seen her happier. She can be a really cutting, hardassed person, but that’s who she is, that’s…

“There’s not a lot of graft, some songs might take more arranging than others, but not a lot. The most difficult part is me…” “I HAVE a folder of songs sitting behind my desk,” says Alison Krauss, discussing the possibility of another Union Station album six years after their last. “It sits back there like a spider, and I can’t wait to get back in there with them. It’s impossible for it not to happen!” The bluegrass singer, violinist and 27-time Grammy Award winner is today looking back, however, over the three decades of music she’s made solo, with Union Station and with collaborators such as Robert Plant and Gillian Welch. The Illinois-born Krauss has just released her fifth solo album, Windy City, a surprisingly sweeping and dense set of…

Pickett turns his son onto coke, between beatings with a baseball bat IN OCTOBER 1967, the month of Otis Redding’s untimely death, Wilson Pickett was very possibly the biggest soul star on the planet. Having served a hair-raising apprenticeship on the chitlin’ circuit, the success of “In The Midnight Hour”, “Mustang Sally”, “Land Of 1000 Dances” and other classic soul sides, cut for Atlantic at Stax Studios in Memphis, had made him a huge commercial draw. He was “living large”, boasting a boat with ‘Wicked Pickett’ branded on the prow and a $40,000 Rolls-Royce. The following year, his version of “Hey Jude”, recorded with Duane Allman at FAME in Muscle Shoals, was an epochal moment in Southern rock and soul. This solid biography captures the pulsing joy and real significance…

AN EMBATTLED music business has clung to improving sales for vinyl records these past few years, and 2016 was no different. 13.1 million records were sold in the US last year, up 10 per cent on 2015, while the numbers in the UK went up a hefty 53 per cent – a 25-year high, apparently. People, it seems, still desire cherishable, statement music products, and no-one has understood that more than Jack White, vinyl auteur and entrepreneur, whose Third Man operation has lavishly pandered to collectors since 2009. Glow in the dark vinyl? 8” records? 13” records? Discs filled with rose petals? White gets format fetishists better than anyone. He also, it transpires, understands that the actual creation of a vinyl record is worth fetishising, both as a conceptual art…

“Overindulgent? It’s pretty indulgent playing with that size an orchestra in the first place” AS Procul Harum celebrate their 50th anniversary by playing the Royal Festival Hall accompanied by a full orchestra and the English Chamber Choir, Gary Brooker recalls the first time the band played with a symphony orchestra. “I think we first did it in 1969 in Stratford in Canada,” says Brooker, Procol’s founder and frontman. “It was a new approach. I don’t think any rock band had done anything like that, so there was no template to follow. “Later that year I saw Deep Purple performing with an orchestra at the Royal Albert Hall and I was interested to see how they approached it. With Deep Purple, it was a battle between rock and classical, whereas for…

 8/10 Chateau Marmont is for Cocker, “ a comfortable venue for a nervous breakdown” HOTELS have long been an essential component of rock’n’roll decadence, and few have such an impressive history of decadence as the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood. It’s where Led Zeppelin drove their Harley-Davidsons through the lobby, where John Belushi overdosed, where Roman Polanski took up residence with Sharon Tate, and where James Dean auditioned for Rebel Without A Cause. But, for Jarvis Cocker, this hotel is less a home for TV-trashing debauchery, and more a place for quiet introspection. “A comfortable venue for a nervous breakdown/A front-row seat for a psychic shakedown,” he whispers on the opening track of this album about the Chateau Marmont. “Is there anything sadder than a hotel room that’s never…

8/10 THE title of Marling’s new album – which loosely translates as ‘Always A Woman’ – is taken from Virgil’s The Aeneid: “Varium et mutabile semper femina”; “A woman is an ever fickle and changeable thing”. It’s a crude but apt summation of Marling’s determination as an artist to present a moving target. Semper Femina is her sixth album in nine years, the kind of old-school work ethic which complements an equally old-school creative sensibility. Having emerged in the slipstream of Mumford & Sons and Noah & The Whale, she long ago freed herself from the entanglements of any scene, other than perhaps an attachment to the golden age of Laurel Canyon’s music makers. At 27, Marling has assembled a unified and impressive body of work, making subtle adjustments with…

8/10 BRENT Cobb hasn’t followed the most obvious path to a solo career. Leaving his native Georgia for Los Angeles a decade ago, he was back within months, having recorded an album that nobody bought (No Place Left To Leave) and endured a pretty miserable time. His next stop was Nashville, where he became a songwriter on Music Row, writing for Luke Bryan, Kenny Chesney, Little Big Town and more. An invite to appear on last year’s Southern Family, a multi-handed project produced by cousin Dave Cobb – starring the likes of Jason Isbell, Shooter Jennings and Brandy Clark – took him in a whole other direction. This, in turn, has led to the Cobbs reuniting for Shine On Rainy Day, a belated second solo effort that feels like the…

8/10 THE most recent Sleaford Mods single “TCR” had a rather unexpected promotional platform. In early September, the band’s singer Jason Williamson was suspended from membership of the Labour party for “abuse” (specifically for a tweet in which he called MP Dan Jarvis a “posing cunt”), which resulted in his appearance on Channel 4 News. There was a video clip, and an interview during which he had a finger wagged at him somewhat by presenter Matt Frei. Taking the admonition on the chin, Williamson explained his position. People come to Sleaford Mods, he explained, for a mixture of rough jokes and rough language. Personally, he hoped for a better world, as envisioned by Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. To the New Statesman, he expounded further: “We need to change the fabric…

8/10 IN the early 1960s, Gayle Dean Wardlow had a serious record collecting habit. He was particularly interested in the development of the Delta blues. At weekends, he would walk the streets of Mississippi Delta towns with a record under his arm, and when he chanced upon someone of the appropriate age, he would mention Charley Patton or Blind Lemon Jefferson. Wardlow’s persistence offered him an invaluable insight into the development of the genre, as recounted in his book, Chasin’ That Devil Music. Only once did Wardlow’s efforts cross over into actually recording the music himself. In July 1967, he was patrolling the streets of Sumner, Mississippi, when a man of a certain age emerged from a Chinese grocery. “I walked up to him,” recalls Wardlow, “and I said, ‘I…

AT TIMES during the 1960s and early ’70s, the wellspring of creativity emanating from Doug Weston’s Troubadour club appeared unstoppable. Music seemed to flow unceasingly. One night in 1970, long after Jo Mama, a local band formed by guitarist Danny Kortchmar, had finished their set and the audience had departed, the Troubadour served up a private encore. “Joni Mitchell was there,” says Kortchmar. “We were all pals. She said, ‘Oh, Kootch, let me play you my new song.’ She got onstage, sat down at the piano, and played ‘The Last Time I Saw Richard’. I remember Dan Hicks sitting way at the back by himself, listening to this, agog. We all were. Stuff like that would happen all the time at the Troubadour. People would exchange ideas, or showcase new…

It’s profoundly moving to see this figure back onstage and in his element ON the banks of Lake Wendouree, where the Olympic rowing events were held in 1956, Ballarat has obligingly turned on a stunning mild summer day and the sun, a few hours off setting, still has a slight sting in its rays. An easy 90-minute drive north-west from Melbourne, Ballarat’s proximity to the metropolis ensures that it rarely hosts its own large-scale shows by touring artists. Nick Cave has never performed in Ballarat, and the decision to do so is reflective of the deep musical relationship that has developed between Cave and his right-hand man, multi-instrumentalist Warren Ellis. Ballarat is Ellis’ hometown, and his family still live in the modest weatherboard house where he grew up. Cave, too,…

Jawbone is an intense and close-up depiction of a scarred individual going about his business JAWBONE There is a scene late on in Jawbone where Jimmy McCabe, a former youth boxing champion fallen on hard times, articulates his deepest anxieties. “I’m a fighter,” he says, “but I can’t fight this.” By “this” he means alcoholism, but he could equally be talking about any of the other troubles that gnaw away at him during director Thomas Q Napper’s impressive, if bleak, debut. Jimmy is played by Johnny Harris, who also wrote the script. Jimmy appears in every scene – a hornet’s nest of rage and self-loathing. When a meeting with officials to discuss his housing situation goes badly wrong, it takes three cops to subdue him. Jimmy finds some…

BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB CRITERION COLLECTION 7/10 Wim Wenders’ 1999 Cuban music doc updated. By Stephen Deusner THE Cuba presented in Wim Wenders’ 1999 documentary Buena Vista Social Club is a very different Cuba than the one that exists in 2017. The last year has brought a wave of cultural and political upheavals, starting with a landmark concert by The Rolling Stones, a visit by Barack Obama (the first sitting President to visit the island in nearly a century), and an official easing of diplomatic relations with the US. In November 2016, Fidel Castro died at 90 years old, as though officially marking the end of a transition for the country. Those events and their effects provide a dramatically new context in which to view this ambitious film,…

LIVING WITH LATE NEIL OK, so I’ll take the bait thrown by Gordon Findlay in Feedback [Uncut, March] re: Neil Young’s Peace Trail. There have been so many twists and turns as Neil Young’s sometimes grouchy, often highly politicised and occasionally wilfully introspective recent catalogue has grown and grown into one of the most fascinating late-era periods for any of the artists lauded by both Uncut’s writers and readers. Not necessarily always the best in terms of final product but, generally, you still reach out to see what’s coming next. Interest is always piqued. Peace Trail is another one of those records, a typical late-era Neil Young record. It shares several (now familiar) traits with older siblings from earlier this decade: Le Noise, the two versions of A Letter Home…

1 GRANDADDY The Boat Is In The Barn “I hope Grandaddy fans like this, as it really is a lot about them, even more so than it is about me,” Jason Lytle told Uncut last month, and this preview of the band’s comeback LP proves as much: a distinctively homemade, wonky lushness predominates, very much of a piece with Grandaddy’s classic turn-of-the-millennium albums. 2 LAETITIA SADIER SOURCE ENSEMBLE Undying Love For Humanity Another old favourite revisiting formative sounds, as Laetitia Sadier swings back towards the complex, jazzy space-age pop that defined her band Stereolab in the late ’90s. Sadier talks about the records that changed her life on page 122. 3 CRAIG FINN Preludes Finn’s solo records might sound more eclectic – the stadium motorik of “Preludes” is closer to…

ANY record that features appearances from Yoko Ono, Phil Oakey, the cowboy from the Village People and John Lennon’s organ must have a good story attached to it. And sure enough, the way The Moonlandingz’ seasoned keyboardist Adrian Flanagan describes the making of his latest band’s rambunctious debut, Interplanetary Class Classics , you’re amazed he can remember any of the details. “We’d start at midday and finish after midnight. Towards the end of the night the ’neuf-du-Pape would come out – and everything else – and that’s when it would go a bit Lord Of The Flies ,” he says of last summer’s sessions at Sean Lennon’s upstate New York studio, where Flanagan played The Beatles’ Farfisa. “There’s nothing better…

IT’S only been 18 months since the UK release of debut Listen To Formation, Look For The Signs , but Nadia Reid has come a long way in a very short time. Exquisite new album Preservation bears the emotional imprint of that chapter in her life. “Between albums one and two there was a lot of growth,” says the New Zealand singer-songwriter. “I almost feel like my mid-twenties crisis came a little earlier than expected: who am I in the world and so on? And dealing with this mental health stuff that creative people are more prone to. I just started to sit with it and accept that I’m this kind of sensitive, up-and-down creature.” Reid also reveals that the aptly titled…

“I WAS once told that we were the ‘Coldplay of the Bristol noise scene’,” says Spectres’ frontman Joe Hatt. “We do get people who vocally hate us for some of our ‘pranks’, but there’s always a lot more to them than merely trying to score cheap notoriety.” Hatt is referring to Spectres’ predilection for stunts – whether protesting against Record Store Day or creating fake Spotify adverts – but Hatt makes no apologies for using the platform of the band to get across a wider message about the music industry, as well as making great music. Condition , Spectres’ latest album, is a subtly disorientating affair. “I think this record is more oppressive than the first, not through noise or aggression, but through disorientation via tension,” says…

“Most everybody that I know, you could say they’re fatally flawed in one way or another” ELLIOTT SMITH THE man America’s Entertainment Weekly calls a “sedate Beck impersonator” smiles ruefully. “My dad was a preacher,” he says, “then he went to Vietnam and now he’s a psychiatrist. He’s actually had a very colourful life, probably more so than mine.” Fair enough. But if Elliott Smith can’t quite match the eccentric career trajectory of his father, his uncompromised progress from lo-fi troubadour to cabaret turn at the Oscars is certainly one of rock’s more unlikely recent tales. It goes like this: Elliott is born 28 years ago into a family of musicians and preachers in an offshoot of the Mormon church. His parents break up and for a while he lives…

8/10 AS a solo artist, George Harrison’s big mistake was his first; putting out an album that he was never able to better. All Things Must Pass (November 1970) looms over the rest of his output like a beautifully chiselled monolith that he could never emulate, and against which all subsequent LPs were measured and found wanting. It’s arguably an unfair judgment. All Things… arrived as an unexpected cornucopia from a man customarily allotted just the one ‘George song’ per Beatles album (a source of chagrin for Harrison, whose attitude to his former band was rarely warm), and who had been storing up songs. Though two sides of its three LPs were jams, its other four boasted a potent mix of romantic and spiritual numbers, including a brace of tunes…

Restoration Ruin ATLANTIC, 1968 A fascinating piece of juvenilia which pitches the 22-year-old Jarrett as an acoustic singer-songwriter. Backed by a string quartet, overdubbing himself on guitars, bass, percussion, saxes and recorder and singing in a nasal whine, Jarrett recalls the whimsy of Paul Simon (“Sioux City Sue New”), Dylan-ish folk-rock (“All Right”) and the folk-jazz of Nick Drake (“For You And Me”). 7/10 Belonging ECM, 1974 The first of Jarrett’s four albums with his so-called “European quartet” – bassist Palle Danielsson, drummer Jon Christensen and star saxophonist Jan Garbarek – is a joyous session that sparkles with inventiveness and enthusiasm throughout, from the laid-back funk of “Long As You Know You’re Living Yours” to the jabbering “The Windup”. 9/10 The Köln Concert ECM, 1975 Given a small, out-of-tune baby…

 WE’RE in what I call the ‘end of an era’ era for music,” says Chrissie Hynde, as soon as we sit down in the subterranean bar of a west London hotel. “I love it, because I like change and I thrive on surprises. For the past 15 years, I started to think, ‘Well, it’s over for bands’, and that was depressing because I love bands. But I don’t care anymore – I’ve been reeling, and now I’m sitting back waiting for the show to start.” “I puke on the Grammy culture. I loathe it” CHRISSIE HYNDE Since her teenage days in Akron, Ohio, right through The Pretenders to the present day, Hynde has been first and foremost a rock fan. In her 2015 memoir, Reckless, she writes evocatively of seeing…

ONE of Stephin Merritt’s earliest memories is of living in Upstate New York during the late ’60s with his mother and their cat, named Dionysus. “My mother tells me, though I don’t remember directly, that I used to lock Dionysus in my toy box,” recalls Merritt today. “So Dionysus and I had a highly contentious relationship. But what I do remember is Dionysus running away. Dionysus got out on the back balcony and we saw him jumping from roof to roof. In my memory of this, I am above the railings – where really I was three years old and I would have been below the railings. So already I am a questionable narrator.” Dionysus’s fleet-footed exit across the rooftops of Syracuse is recounted on 50 Song Memoir, Merritt’s latest…

“I’VE always been quite happy with the band just being this little thing in the mid-’60s,” says The Creation’s guitarist and main songwriter, Eddie Phillips. “We got into flower-power stuff by the end, and I always thought The Creation was a bit like a flower – we came out, bloomed and then it went.” The band began as beat group The Mark Four, with a residency in Germany and gigs with pre-Who combo The High Numbers. Throughout these formative years, Phillips was experimenting with feedback and using a violin bow on his Gibson hollow-body to the delight of audiences and the disgust of engineers. “I’ve always enjoyed Eddie’s playing,” says The Mark Four’s John Dalton, later to join The Kinks. “[Producer] Shel Talmy summed it up by saying ‘Eddie Phillips…

Collins’ voice, though she’s 81, retains its unfussy authority THERE’S a distinctly regal air to Shirley Collins as she sits – scarfed, elegant, serene – at the centre of a half-moon of musicians. Quite right, too. As the English singer and song collector Sam Lee informs the audience, “Shirley has been like a North Star to me, a musical and spiritual grandmother.” It seems only fitting that this show at Celtic Connections provides a trysting point for friends, old and new, to pay court to a folk queen. The first half of the evening doesn’t feature Collins at all, but spotlights a cast of celebrants marking her unquantifiable influence on UK and US folk. Following a rousing entree from banjoist Dave Arthur and fiddler Pete Cooper, Lee provides deeper context,…

JAKI LIEBEZEIT Can drummer and prolific collaborator (1938-2017) ‘‘WE were trying to find our own way,” Jaki Liebezeit once told the BBC, discussing the rise of Can and other German bands of the late ’60s, who began dispensing with prescriptive rock‘n’roll. “We thought like artists. Imagine a painter saying, ‘I can’t suddenly paint like Andy Warhol or like Jackson Pollock, so I have to find something else, something original.’ It takes a while, but it is possible to find.” As the backbone of Can, Liebezeit was a drummer of phenomenal ability, a master of rigour and invention whose unerring precision and subtle rhythmic shifts helped root the more experimental fancies of his bandmates. His locked grooves were as crucial to hypnotic epics like “Yoo Doo Right” and “Halleluhwah”…