MUSIK FÜR ALLE

Anima-Sound was one of many also-rans in the Krautrock derbies of the early 1970s, in retrospect galloping so far in a contrary direction they were never seen again. Actually that's not entirely true: at this late writing percussionist Limpe Fuchs maintains a vital presence on the outer edge of Germany's avant-garde musical art circuit. The goal, in her own words, has always been to capture "the resonance of the location where the performance takes place".

And not only the location, but the specific time as well: a key to understanding this relic from 1971, obscure even to Krautrock treasure hunters. Of course it wasn't really Krautrock, and in truth isn't much of a treasure either. The group's second LP, named with utopian wishful thinking "Music For Everybody", is less structured and even more lo-fi than the duo's ramshackle 1971 debut ("Stürmischer Himmel"). It might have been intended as a crude audio-vérité transcript of a typical Anima-Sound gig, with Limpe hitting anything within reach, and husband Paul blatting away on an ersatz collection of homemade horn devices.

Each half of the original vinyl is a complete track, sounding almost identical to its flipside. The inscrutably titled "N Da Da Uum Da" (my thoughts exactly, after first hearing it) is a time-capsule model of post-'60s free expression. Ditto "Tractor Go Go Go", named in honor of the barnstorming hippie performance vehicle which held their makeshift stage, all their instruments, and several sheep.

The album is only a very minor slice of a much larger musical history. Thankfully, the Berlin-based film and music label Play Loud! has announced plans to re-release the entire catalogue of Anima, Anima-Sound, and Limpe Fuchs: a massive discography that extends far beyond the limits of even these extensive Archives. The name of the label itself is an invitation: play this album loud enough, and it almost begins to make a perfectly warped sort of historical sense.

[ Collector's addendum: an even less inhibited portrait of Paul and Limpe Fuchs can be found in the semi-exploitation 1970 documentary film "Wunderland der Liebe: Der Große Deutsche Sexreport" (aka "Sex Freedom in Germany", directed by Dieter Geissler). No, I haven't seen it myself, except for a brief excerpt of the Anima-Sound duo in concert: Paul in flowing white robes and Limpe buck-naked, completely slathered in black paint. One first-hand reviewer called it a "howlingly inept celluloid nutbar", which is just another way of saying you probably had to be there to appreciate it..."the resonance of the location", so forth]