So Far

So Far, so far out. By 1972, Faust had already dismantled the concept of a rock album. With their self-titled debut, they tore through convention with tape edits, abstract structures, and a scathing collage of cultural detritus. Its successor, recorded just six months later, was not a retreat from that radicalism, but its evolution. Instead of challenging form through outright fragmentation, the band now disguised their subversion in structures that almost, almost, resemble songs. But don’t be fooled. This is still Faust: unpredictable, subversive, and unbound by convention. Taken as a whole, So Far is less a linear progression from Faust’s debut than a sideways leap into a parallel sonic dimension. Where the first album exploded rock from the inside out, So Far rearranges the wreckage into strange new shapes. There’s a sly humour here too, buried under the fuzz and tape edits, a knowing wink that these sonic detours aren’t acts of nihilism, but of creation. Faust were building something. What, exactly, remains elusive, and still utterly intoxicating.

A1 It’s A Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl 7:27
A2 On The Way To Abamäe 2:40
A3 No Harm 10:17
B1 So Far 6:20
B2 Mamie Is Blue 5:59
B3 I’ve Got My Car And My TV 3:45
B4 Picnic On A Frozen River 0:37
B5 Me Lack Space … 0:47
B6 …In The Spirit 2:11