—Andrew R. Iliff

Couch

Profane

(Matador)

Couch are German, and they play rock music, and they don’t sing. This is not an altogether surprising combination of characteristics—Germany, after all, has a long and proud tradition of instrumental rock acts dating back to Can and Neu (and earlier, you could always argue, to Stockhausen, etc.). The instrumental rock genre itself, if there is one, has seen a recent renaissance with bands like Man or Astroman?, Don Caballero, Mogwai, and Trans Am. Couch fits right in. (Note: I don’t know no German, so I let the often hilariously inaccurate Babelfish translate titles for me.)

I can guess that the chiaroscurist contrast of beatific cover (an image of a pretty park with some distant peoploids in a pool) and judgmental album title means that Couch intend to say something while not actually saying anything (like Godspeed You Black Emperor!, but with less scrutable liner notes). What it is, though, I don’t know, and titles like “12 is only 4” (“12 sind nur 4”) and “Colour” (“Farbe”) don’t help. What’s obvious, though, is that Profane is some of the most beautiful German intrumental rock music to appear in America in a long time.