Plank wasn’t just a producer, he was an enabler â a man who saw potential in the band that perhaps they didn’t even see in themselves. He helped them to streamline their ideas, to focus on rhythm and repetition, to distil the essence of their sound into something that was both accessible and groundbreaking. And he did it all in a studio that was housed in an old farmhouse in the German countryside, surrounded by fields and trees and the distant hum of traffic on the autobahn.
As I drive along the A555, I can’t help but think about the journey that Kraftwerk took, both literally and metaphorically, when they created Autobahn. They were a band in transition, moving away from their experimental roots towards a more polished, electronic sound. They were also a band on the move, constantly travelling between cities and countries, soaking up influences and ideas along the way.
And as I listen to the song itself, with its pulsing bass line and hypnotic synth chords, I can feel the sense of momentum and possibility that must have driven them forward. It’s a song that captures the spirit of the open road, the thrill of exploration, the joy of movement. It’s a song that invites you to join them on their journey, to experience the freedom and exhilaration of the autobahn for yourself.
So as I drive along the highway, with the wind in my hair and the music in my ears, I can’t help but feel a sense of connection to Kraftwerk and their iconic road trip. I may not be in a vintage T-Bird or a Cadillac, but I am in a humble Volkswagen, following in the footsteps of musical pioneers. And as the road stretches out before me, I know that the journey is just beginning. Autobahn beckons, and I am ready to answer its call.
Despite the lack of recognition in their hometown, Kraftwerk’s influence on music and culture is undeniable. Their pioneering use of electronic instruments and innovative approach to music production has inspired countless artists across various genres. From hip-hop to techno, their impact can be heard in the music of artists around the world.
So, while Düsseldorf may not have a bustling Kraftwerk museum or a dedicated tour, the legacy of the band lives on in the music they created and the artists they influenced. And perhaps, in the end, that is the most important tribute to their groundbreaking work.
For Autobahn, Plank would drive his 16-track mobile recording truck to Kling Klang, park in the yard outside and run wires from his mixing desk directly into the building.
The site of the Kling Klang studio ⦠âI suppose itâs entirely possible that this isnât even a Kraftwerk reference at all and simply a traffic cone.â Photograph: Tim Jonze/The Guardian
A motorbike outside Kling Klang studioMintropstraÃe 16, Düsseldorf
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Head to MintropstraÃe 16 today and there are no plaques commemorating the impact of Kling Klang. Instead there is a yellow and beige tiled building with fading signage for electrician services Elektro Müller GmbH. Walk through the entrance and you come to a plant-filled courtyard and another Elektro Müller sign above the door where the band once entered. The only nod to Kraftwerk is an extremely niche one â an orange traffic cone, as featured on the sleeves of their debut album, sits on the steps outside. I suppose itâs entirely possible that this isnât even a Kraftwerk reference at all and simply a traffic cone.
Back on the street an emergency vehicleâs siren builds then fades. A motorbike rider lets his engine rip. But the area is largely unremarkable. The only trace of Kraftwerk Iâve seen so far on this whole trip has been in a Cologne brauhaus stuffed with vintage music contraptions â put a euro in the slot and you can watch a duo of accordion and tuba-playing puppets perform the bandâs biggest hit The Model. Fun, of course, but not the most towering of tributes to the godfathers of dance music.
It doesnât seem right that our autobahn journey should end here. For a start, Iâve barely been on the autobahn. The A555 was a rather unspectacular piece of road whose entire length could be driven in 15 minutes. Thatâs not even enough time to play the song in full. Bonn, Cologne and Düsseldorf are all so close that each leg has barely begun when itâs time to pull off the road â and thatâs just not how a record as expansive as Autobahn feels.
A quote by Flür sparks inspiration. He described Autobahn as âthe musical description of a car journey from Düsseldorf to Hamburg, if you know the route, youâll recognise the sounds: the mechanical sounds represent the Ruhr valley, the conveyor belts of the mining towns of Bottrop and Castrop-Rauxel. Then you have the stretch through the rural Munsterland, where the countryside is symbolised by the flute and the song is completely different in feel.â
I set the satnav for Bottrop â A52, A3, A42 â in the hope of hearing the sounds of industry. But it is a mining city no longer â Prosper-Haniel was the last coal mine in the whole of Germany to shut when it closed its doors in 2018. Instead, the nearby Volkspark rests in almost complete silence, stirred no longer by the noise of 20th-century industrial Europe.
A grand memorial to Germanyâs industrial heritage ⦠LWL Industrial Museum Zollern. Photograph: Tim Jonze/The Guardian
Striking a mining bucketLWL Industrial Museum Zollern, Dortmund
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Rusting bucket ⦠âI realise I can make my own industrial sounds by banging my fingers on its shell.â Photograph: The Guardian
Instead I move on to Castrop-Rauxel near Dortmund, and the next best thing to industry: the LWL Industrial Museum Zollern. This former coal mine is an exquisitely grand memorial to Germanyâs industrial heritage â with its stained-glass art nouveau entrance, climbable pithead frame and vast engine hall. Itâs quiet here, too. But while examining a rusting sinking bucket outside, I realise I can make my own industrial sounds by banging my fingers on its shell. The noise sounds instantly familiar â it reminds me of the wobbly bass notes that appear over the songâs grinding rhythm around the nine-minute mark. Creating music out of the everyday: it feels like a very Kraftwerkian thing to do.
To get back on to the autobahn for my final four-hour drive to Hamburg I check the road signs for the iconic blue and white autobahn sign. Itâs the same sign that features on the Autobahn album sleeve â although this was not the albumâs original artwork. For its initial German release the band used a painting created especially for them by their trusted artistic adviser Emil Schult. The poet and painter was a star pupil of the legendary German Fluxus artist Joseph Beuys who had been professor of monumental sculpture at the Dusseldorf Academy of Art before a sit-in protest he was leading resulted in him being escorted from the building by police and subsequently fired.
A âtotal work of artâ ⦠Kraftwerk on the Autobahn albumâs inner sleeve. Photograph: Franz Perc/Alamy
Featuring a photograph of the band members on the dashboard and the same sun and mountains imagery that he would later reuse for the bandâs 3D film, Schultâs painting is simultaneously childlike and loaded with reference points. Was the VW Beetle in which the viewer was situated driving towards a bright future? And was the Mercedes â a favourite vehicle for Nazi party members â travelling in the other direction supposed to signify the countryâs past disappearing into the distance?
The sleeve united Kraftwerkâs visual and musical ideas and was the first step in a lifelong ambition of theirs to make a gesamtkunstwerk, or âtotal work of artâ. This idea â that various artforms should all be utilised to create an even greater whole â has been a key theme running through German culture from Wagner to the Bauhaus. And it reached its pinnacle in Kraftwerkâs world when, in 2012, they played a series of shows at New Yorkâs Museum of Modern Art, during which viewers watched specially made films through 3D glasses.
As the sun dips below the horizon, I turn up the volume and let the beat propel me towards the shimmering lights of Hamburg. The autobahn stretches out ahead of me, a ribbon of freedom cutting through the German landscape. And as I drive on, I can’t help but feel the connection to Kraftwerk and their groundbreaking album. The autobahn is not just a road, but a symbol of innovation, progress, and the enduring power of music to transport us to new realms of experience.
No puedo evitar recordar cuando Schneider afirmó una vez que la banda tocaba más rápido si habían viajado al concierto por la autopista. Subo el volumen y dejo que el ritmo me lleve hacia las luces brillantes de Hamburgo.
La autopista alemana me ha llevado desde el lugar de nacimiento de Beethoven en Bonn hasta el lugar de nacimiento de los Beatles en Hamburgo. Uniendo estos dos lugares está la historia de uno de los grandes estallidos ruidosos de la música, con réplicas que todavía se sienten.
Andy McCluskey de Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark dice que el lanzamiento de Autobahn fue como la noticia de la muerte de JFK: todos recuerdan dónde estaban cuando lo escucharon por primera vez. En su caso, estaba en su bañera escuchando una pequeña radio transistor. Un año después de su lanzamiento, se encontró en el concierto de la banda en Liverpool, con solo 16 años y pensando: “Quiero hacer esto”.
Alemania de repente estaba en el mapa musical. David Bowie, que solía viajar por la autopista mientras escuchaba el disco, se mudó a Berlín y pasó a hacer Low, “Heroes” y Lodger, influenciados electrónicamente. Brian Eno se trasladó al pueblo rural de Forst para grabar con la influyente banda de vanguardia Harmonia. Conny Plank se convirtió en un destacado productor de música pop electrónica, trabajando con artistas como Ultravox, DAF y Eurythmics.
El mundo tardó un tiempo en ponerse al día; pasarían otros tres años antes de que llegara el próximo lanzamiento igualmente sísmico en la música electrónica en forma de I Feel Love de Donna Summer y Giorgio Moroder. Con el tiempo, la canción se convirtió en un trampolín para innumerables géneros, desde la nueva ola hasta la electrónica. Juan Atkins lo acreditó como parte de su viaje hacia el pionero del techno. Underworld y Stereolab son solo dos de los artistas que lo han sampleado.
Autobahn hizo más que influir en la dirección del pop. Hablando con Uncut en 2017, Flür dijo que la canción le había dado a la Alemania de posguerra algo que necesitaba desesperadamente: “Algo positivo y juvenil, que nos liberó del hedor del pasado”.
Apago la autopista por última vez, llevo mi coche a su destino final y apago el motor. Seguir los caminos que una vez tomó Kraftwerk ha sido emocionante, y educativo. Pero solo puede enseñarte tanto sobre su música. Todos podemos seguir las señales azules y blancas hacia la próxima ciudad, pero solo algunos conocen el camino hacia el futuro.