There's a fine irony to this book, so let's get it out first: Krautrocksampler is a guide to rare krautrock records that has itself become a rare record. Published in 1995 by Julian Cope — former Teardrop Explodes singer, total eccentric — it has never been reprinted, by the author's choice, and originals now change hands for considerable sums. A book about the hunt for unfindable objects that has itself become an unfindable object. It doesn't get more Groov-illa than that.
It is not a rigorous study, and Cope is the first to admit it: it's a subjective, passionate, over-the-top guide, written by a fan for fans. Nine chapters, a hundred and forty pages, an appendix of "50 Kosmische Classics," and a contagious enthusiasm for Can, Faust, Neu!, Tangerine Dream and the rest. Simon Reynolds likened it to a German Lester Bangs. Imperfect, riddled with typos, occasionally unreliable — but it was the book that first told the English-speaking world this music existed and mattered.
For historical completeness it comes after Stubbs's Future Days, which is the more dependable guide. But for spirit, energy, and the almost fetishistic pleasure of owning it, Krautrocksampler remains an object to hunt for — living proof that sometimes the book about a passion becomes part of the passion itself.
