Faust

Making another meal out of the same ingredients used to make the Steve Stapleton-produced Disconnected, the ever-enduring Krautrock pioneers this time go for something both sharper and more recognizably rock oriented. Where the Nurse With Wound collaboration boiled in the vapour of Faust's atmosphere, Compliqué jets with three percussion-laden jams off the top that act like a search party for a song they never quite find. The second half is more of the same, with Zappi's hard toms punching holes through Jean-Hervé's walls of tremolo, not to mention the accordions and keys and whatever else. One sore thumb of a track comes at the midpoint, "Petit Sons Appétissants," a sound-alike pun on "tasty little sounds" and "children are yummy," that comes across like an unhinged Charles Trenet waltz. The dense cosmic murk that is the closing title track seems to answer the question: what if a shopping cart carrying Tony Iommi was pulled through a black hole? Now you know. It's not the most focused or song-centric album you'll hear this year but it's Faust, and therefore a little complicated.