We were overdue to check in on Krautrock's unwitting supergroup, the Cosmic Jokers. But we weren't gonna do it without first going *deep* on Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser and Gille Lettmann.

At various times visionary, provocateur, entrepreneur, programmer, pamphleteer, carnival barker, and snake oil salesman, Kaiser was an essential figure in the Krautrock project. His life-partner-in-crime, Gille, brought a Star-Maiden's magic dust--and some wicked vocals--to the many delicious records Kaiser's Ohr, Pilz, and Cosmic Couriers labels issued in the early 1970s.

The Jokers releases were peak Kaiser-Lettmann material, recorded over a series of acid parties in Dieter Dierks' studios and released (so the story goes) without most of the players' knowledge or consent. We *love* these records and are grateful for the deception ... even if the resulting lawsuits ended Rolf and Gille's careers in the biz.

Come along as we survey the trippiest corners of the cosmos, with Krautrock's Power Couple as our guides. This was a fun one!

Took a minute but we're back with a vengeance and a heaping helping of Synthy Berliner Klaus Schulze!

We gushed about Klaus's drumming in our Tangerine Dream and Ash Ra Tempel episodes. Funny thing, though: Klaus's FIFTY-PLUS-YEAR career as a solo artist was a largely drums-free endeavor. Starting with 1972's Irrlicht, which he hacked together with a wonky amp, broken organ, some delay effects and a taped orchestral rehearsal, Klaus Schulze set aside conventional rock forms and committed himself to revolutionizing popular music.

By the time he recorded Moondawn in '76, Klaus had gathered an impressive rack of electronics—most recently and notably Florian Fricke's prized Moog III synthesizer. With "the Big Moog" in tow, Klaus delivered ... 50? 80? 100? let's just call it a TRUCKLOAD of electronic LPs. Along the way, he assumed the title of Godfather of Techno. This was certainly well-earned.

Join us as we rock out and/or ask hard questions about Schulze and his groundbreaking records Irrlicht and Moondawn!

Today we accept a listener's invite up to Hamburg, for a visit with A.R. + Machines.

Achim Reichel grew up near the docks, listening to sea shanties. He found work at the Star-Club waiting tables, but soon enough he was on its stage playing with the Rattles—and running with Lennon & McCartney.

Come 1971 he ditched his bandmates for a tape machine. Krautrock followed. Turns out Achim was just passing through on his way to other sounds and traditions. But this green leg of his musical journey was rich and rewarding, even if it took 20 years for critics and listeners to get it.

Join us as we tell the story of A.R. + Machines!