Kreidler, the German trio around Thomas Klein, Alexander Paulick and Andreas Reihse, releases on 15 May 2026 via Bureau B its ninth studio album “Schemes”: a reorientation in which the band shifts the motoric groove towards lighter, more ambient terrain without losing character for a single moment.
Where predecessor “Twists (A Visitor Arrives)” in 2024 received a 9 from this editorial, and where bassist Alexander Paulick shortly afterwards, in conversation with Maxazine, strongly criticised what he called the ‘perfect mediocrity’ of AI-generated music, “Schemes” now unfolds as the musical piece of evidence for that critique. This is an album that nowhere calculates an algorithm. It breathes, it shifts, it leaves space, it takes risks.
After three decades in the Düsseldorf tradition of Kraftwerk, NEU! and La Düsseldorf, Kreidler has built a recognisable sonic signature: tight live drums, fretless bass and synth layers that interlock. “Schemes” does not break with that, but stretches the texture apart. The band recorded in Berlin, in another Baustelle studio, and used found objects on site, including a large steel oil tank, for rhythmic colour. Field recordings seep into the mix, and meandering synth work replaces the forward-driving motion of earlier work. The result does not sound like a change of direction, but like a band recalibrating its own device. This is a record that demands good playback. On decent speakers, preferably with a warm vintage amplifier, every living room turns into a small concert hall. Turn up the bass, feel what happens, and you will discover that the supposed calm contains constant movement. The production is transparent without becoming sterile: every string strike, every synth pattern, every piece of outdoor noise finds its own position in the stereo image.
That “Marble Upset” was chosen as the first single says something about the band’s confidence. You can dance to it, in a polyester suit, white shirt and shiny black pointed shoes, carried by an almost cinematic, insistent beat and rhythmic accents that lean towards ambient textures. The closing tones sound like an arcade cabinet from the Space Invaders era. A great adventure as a calling card. Kreidler also shows a rare talent on this record for titles that already sound half-formed before you have even heard them. “Snowflakes” is the first proof. It feels almost playful by Kreidler’s standards; the title works hypnotically: you can almost see the snowflakes drifting in your mind while an organic layer of texture floats above a breakable beat.
“Fenix”, with Argentine guest vocalist Leo García, is the most unusual track on the record. García’s voice is not placed on top of the music but fully woven into the mix: you hear fragments that recall the polyphony of I Muvrini, then Mongolian throat singing, then a propeller plane struggling to take off. It is a gateway sign to the wondrous world Kreidler inhabits, a world you can lose yourself in if you allow it. The melancholic peak is called “The distance between you”. The fretless bass draws a line that feels almost yearning, a basic rhythm slips underneath it, and the plucked sounds would not be out of place on an early 1980s Nina Hagen record. It lasts nearly six minutes, and you wish it were twelve.
Closer “Tar” once again shows that talent for titling. The track follows exactly the sticky, slow, unstoppable loop that tar suggests: things are rattled, iron is scraped, and a synthetic choir echoes through the mix like a distant afterglow of 10cc’s “I’m Not In Love”. The comparison is sonically nonsensical. But anyone thinking of the experimental drive with which 10cc pushed studio boundaries in the Strawberry Studios era will suddenly realise the family is smaller than expected.
A critical note is hard to find on this album. “Schemes” holds you from beginning to end, adventurous and tense in the way a good thriller becomes a page-turner. Those looking to nitpick might argue that the ten tracks together lack a single binding thread. But that is precisely the point: the album is called “Schemes” in the plural.
Why “Schemes” matters. This could well be the strongest album in the Kreidler catalogue. The band sticks to its earlier promise: keep experimenting, avoid averaging out, and do not settle in the middle. That they still sound this unforced after thirty years is rare. A 10 remains reserved for records that prove their timelessness over the years. With “Schemes”, Kreidler opens the path to a promising future: with boldness and musicality, they have shifted their course and, in their wilfulness, taken the top prize. (9/10) (Bureau B)

