Barnes & Noble
A live album from a group of guys prone to having robots replace them onstage during concerts -- with no discernible downturn in action -- might seem like a bit of a stretch. But this chronicle of Kraftwerk's 2005 world tour -- culled from stops on three continents -- is thoroughly engaging when considered as a chronicle of the band's 30-year run. Interestingly, while the 22 pieces presented here were created entirely on computers (the four members man laptops onstage), there's a palpable evolution in the grooves of Minimum Maximum, from the vigorous retooling of "Autobahn" to the additional layer of languor appended to "The Model." It would be stretching things to suggest that there's considerable improvisation going on, but these takes on "Trans Europe Express" and "Man-Machine" differ enough in their rhythmic tension to make it clear that, at the very least, there's some reprogramming going on between concerts. The excision of the visuals so important to the live Kraftwerk experience is something of a letdown, but considered on its own terms, eyes closed in a darkened room, Minimum Maximum envelops with the same machine-age assurance Kraftwerk mastered ages ago. There's even -- in the form of "Pocket Calculator" -- some fodder for your next dance party. Who could ask for more? David Sprague
All Music Guide
For rock bands, hauling gear across countries and continents has not changed a great deal in the past several decades. The same can't be said for Kraftwerk. Grappling with sensitive cables and other technical gadgets in extreme climates has become a thing of the past. For them, everything has become easier to manage and transport, so it's natural that they'd become more enthusiastic about touring. Recorded during the group's 2004 journey through Europe, Japan, and the U.S., Minimum-Maximum is a two-disc representation of their revitalized live show. Visuals are such a crucial aspect of their performances that the set will naturally fall short of making you feel as if you are there -- whether it's Moscow, Warsaw, Budapest, or San Francisco -- while in your car or living room. More crucially, who really knows exactly how much live manipulation is going on with the elements of each track? Whatever the case, it all sounds good -- sharp, vibrant, alive. The original arrangements are often altered slightly, the tracks are tactfully sequenced, and the crowd noise is kept to a minimum (either near the close of a track or in recognition of one as it begins), so the release is sort of a glorified greatest-hits collection. Along with some wise selections from 2003's Tour de France Soundtracks, there's plenty of the expected classic material, all of which has given life to so much industrial, dance, and rap music. (You could, in fact, walk into the average techno club or turn on a mainstream radio station the week this was released and hear traces of Kraftwerk in one form or another.) "Radioactivity" and "The Robots," two of the more altered tracks, contain the greatest thrills; the former's permafrost placidity spirals into a frictionless dancefloor charge, while the latter is more muscular than ever, acknowledging advancements made by acolytes Model 500 and Underground Resistance. Andy Kellman