To delete the milk and honey out of precisely planed-and-plain sunshine pop that ‘Klingklangs’ does not date these balmy techtopians as incuriously antiseptic. Rather, their consoles console because of the sheer, sporting ingenuousness with which they tinker and accept the foregone conclusion of the systemworld’s co-opted lifebeat; and here Kraftwerk are most sincere. “Numbers” and the last few tuneless tracks dull before dying, yet by making their subject the objects of their music, the band stays hungrier and more felt than real automatons like ‘N Sync, or The Country Bears.
Rating: B+
