Diggin' In Mizo's Crates: Can "Future Days" (1973)

For those of you that are familiar with the weekly Sabbath Sessions mix (posted right here every Sunday!) you’ve probably picked up on my partner Mizo & I’s differing tastes in sounds. We unite in the realms of jazz, electronic and hiphop but where I find my ears rooted in the foundational sounds of the sampling aesthetic Mizo grew up on the more classic rock oriented frequencies. Of course our journeys through the auditory waves have traversed many styles and if the Sabbath Sessions are any indication we certainly can’t be pinned down to specific boxes.

In an effort to curb our severe addiction to vinyl we started trading records for the other to digest and explore. The stack I have at the moment came from him upon my request to broaden my “rock” horizons and introduce me to some grooves in that vein that he thought I’d appreciate. And fittingly enough, to follow up last week's Paternoster review, the first joint I pulled out of the pile he supplied me with was Future Days by the German based band Can. 

Their previous effort, Ege Bamyasi, was really my only awareness of the group and even that was only through seeing the cover via assorted coverage of crate digging over the years. An infamous sample well, it’s a joint I’ve never come across but always keeping my eyes peeled for. When Mizo told me he was blessing me with a joint by them I was excited to begin my journey with their grooves.

As I’ve let this album play over the course of the last couple weeks, returning it to my turntable regularly as well as giving it time in the car and in my headphones, I’ve found it to be mesmerizing and hard to pin down. It doesn't strike me as a traditionally classic “rock” album in the least. It is clearly rooted in many styles which probably aids my appreciation of it. While I’m no expert on good and bad rock (I like Limp Bizkit and KoRn - run for the hills y’all), what I’m seeking in any music is energy, exploration and joy. Future Days captures all three.

Music that doesn’t restrain itself to traditional structures will always be my jam. Why aim to cram everything into a happy little box of three and a half minutes (radio play) with the typical verse, hook, verse, hook, verse, hook predictability. There is a space for this and I ceased to bash commercially minded music while in college - as I delve deeper down the rabbit whole of music I find myself invigorated by those who shed any preconceived notions and let the music be the guide. I find that energy present throughout this album.

A simple perusal of Can’s wiki page informs us that they were influenced by a diverse array of styles when they came together and it shows. Part of my enjoyment of this album has to be it’s whimsical nature that feels very indebted to Jazz, especially the Jazz that was happening in this era. There are hints of multiple Miles projects here, along with other fusion minded groups like Weather Report and Return to Forever. The music is alive and filled with growth and light. There is no sense of withholding as they play these four tunes.

As they let the music develop, we the listener are blessed with grooves and segues that allow the tracks to transform. This is music to journey with. Don’t just think you are gonna put this record on and go about your day. It will grab you. It will hold you. It will inspire connection with the ether and bring you into the present. This band is transmitting tones from other worlds. It’s a trip not to be ignored or missed.

The rhythm is always important to me when I’m diving into an album. That steady beat that can mesmerize and enliven is a must. Jaki Liebezeit does phenomenal work here. He allows us to be lulled into submission as he keeps things wholly unexpected. A word of advice to all you up and coming crate diggers out there - whenever a record has a percussionist credited, jump on it! What my ears have come to understand is that there is a difference between drumming and percussion. Percussion leaves room for interpretation and experimentation. What I hear from percussion is a deeper respect for rhythm and sound, not locked into a drum kit and tradition but rather improvised instruments and patterns. Liebezeit delivers on this idea.

Much like a DJ set, this playing with the idea of rhythm opens up what can go over top of the beat. And the rest of the band embraces this philosophy. They dabble in sound effects, and stretch the limits of what their instruments are capable of. All of it comes together in a wonderful stew of sound, ebbing and flowing like waves and tides. Just when you think the track is over it jumps back out at you with a blast of intensity typically prescribed in the rock realm.

This amalgamation of instruments working in concert to provide a greater sonic exterior is exactly what music is all about. While solo work holds its own charms, the interplay between all involved here is where the magic happens. The tracks don’t really feel separate, and while there are overarching themes that tie each one into the greater whole, this doesn’t get stale or feel rote. It’s a magic trick of experience and skill with their respective instruments that they can maintain these vibes and yet allow this suite of jams to be rooted and singular simultaneously.

As I entered this album I wasn’t expecting anything. Well maybe some breaks. And truth be told it didn’t grab me on the first listen. Perhaps even on the tenth. But I kept returning to it, digesting it and exploring it. There is a heady element to what is happening here. This music is uplifting. It’s filled with soul and life. There is no end to what you might hear the more you sit with it and allow it to engulf your presence. Play it loud. Play it in the car. Play it while you cook. Play it while you meditate. Just play it.