Hunters and collectors all come out at night.

In word and deed.

But why the rush to judge­ment on Land­ed? Two albums after the depar­ture of CAN’s native shaman Damo Suzu­ki, CAN evolved into man machines, refin­ing their entranc­ing psy­che­delia with stereo fix­es. Can the crit­i­cism reduced to a ques­tion of nov­el­ty that favors the organ­ic and roman­tic over the cal­cu­lat­ed advances the band made in this period?

Maybe Land­ed is a water­shed moment for CAN for all the wrong rea­sons. Hol­ger Czukay engi­neered the record on a 16 track, a first for the band, giv­ing their mul­ti­lay­ered ideas and com­po­si­tions more sep­a­ra­tion and clar­i­ty. Few bands can boast as much musi­co­log­i­cal sophis­ti­ca­tion as CAN, but it’s not until Land­ed that their tech­nol­o­gy catch­es up with their abilities.

As CAN’s sto­ry unfolds in their per­for­mance DVD, the images of each mem­ber in gar­gan­tu­an head­phones are reas­sur­ing and dis­ori­ent­ing: astro­nauts need their space­suits to live, don’t they?

CAN — “Red Hot Indians”