It feels very strange to discover a band through a cover artist and have no idea how the originals sounded until many months later. That was the case for me almost two decades ago while listening to Señor Coconut (another German musician) covering the band I saw at Place des Arts on Monday night, Kraftwerk. I grew so accustomed to the Latin-rhythm versions that it took me a long while to actually appreciate the original works of the German band.
I was very excited to finally see them live, and what I heard on March 10th felt beyond music. The band crafted an excellent immersive experience that bridged the mechanical nature of their music with the organic reality of the artists behind the sound. The stage was minimalistic but striking. Each of the four members stood behind illuminated podiums, framed by futuristic visuals that shifted between retro graphics and sharp, digital projections.
The band’s signature clean, precise, and robotic aesthetic permeated the whole show, elevated by immersive visuals that complemented the sonic landscapes of each track. Led string lights, digital suits that they wore and had illuminated the majority of the time, and animations that projected on the stage they were in as well as on the background created a layered visual experience, blurring the line between human and machine, between creation and creator and ultimately, between spectator and spectacle.
The night opened with Numbers, Computer World, and Computer World 2, immediately pulling the audience into Kraftwerk’s world; we were already captive, and the bobbing heads and tapping feet attested to the fact that we were all synced to whatever was happening on stage. The pulsing beats and sharp visuals transported me and kept my attention throughout the 2 hours of the show.
What was perhaps most compelling about the show was the undeniable human element. Despite their robotic persona, Kraftwerk’s performance was far from sterile. The live vocal elements, delivered in multiple languages (mainly French, English, and German) by the only original member left, Ralf Hütter, added warmth and a lot of depth.
The organic nature of the show also came through in its imperfections. During Trans-Europe Express, there were a few false starts, and one of the members accidentally left the stage early. Rather than disrupting the experience, these moments added a layer of authenticity and reminded us that behind the machines outlined by led lights stood real people, still subject to the unpredictabilities of live performance.
The setlist was a well-crafted journey through Kraftwerk’s influential catalog. Tracks like Spacelab, Autobahn, and Tour de France were sonic road trips, their visuals stretching across the stage like endless highways, non-stop stamina and cosmic views. Radioactivity took on a somber tone, with its haunting message about nuclear power still resonating today. And then there were moments of pure joy, like Neon Lights and The Model, where the visuals felt playful, immersive and sensual, matching the music’s melodic elegance and topics.
The encore added to the show’s thematic depth. The Robots was both playful and profound, featuring life-size robotic versions of the band members, a visual pun on their decades-long exploration of technology and identity. The final stretch, with songs I hadn’t heard before, Planet of Visions and Musique Non Stop built the energy to a climactic finish, with rhythmic beats that to my ears sounded timeless.
At the end, when going back to my car and meditating on the hour drive back home, the concert brought up a deeper reflection in me, one that has come up a couple of times before in this blog: when does a band stop being the same band? With only one original member present, Kraftwerk’s performance raised this question once again. Is it the individuals on stage who define the band, or is it the music itself that transcends its creators? It’s a question that feels especially poignant in the context of Kraftwerk, whose aesthetic has always been about dissolving individual identity into a collective machine-like precision. Perhaps, much like classical compositions outliving their composers, the German band’s music exists beyond the individuals who created it. The experience that unfolded on stage certainly didn’t give much room to who was playing, but it was all about the music and all that accompanied it.
What’s certain is that in an industry that at times seems obsessed with novelty, Kraftwerk’s embrace of their legacy felt like a statement. They didn’t need to prove relevance by chasing trends. Their music, with its prophetic vision of technology and society, is as relevant today as it was decades ago. I can envision a future where the works will be played live at many venues just like we play Mozart or Gershwin.
This performance reminded me that music, even when rooted in machines, knobs and controllers, is inherently human. The technology, the visuals, the precise beats, all of it, was shaped by human hands, thoughts, reflections and emotions. For me, for whom it was the first time seeing them live, it wasn’t just a show; it was an exploration of our relationship with technology in music, day to day, and in the hands of the powerful. Ultimately, a reflection on how we shape our machines and how, in turn, they shape us.
Overall, it was a masterful homage to their legacy, an unforgettable experience, one that proved that even the most mechanical rhythms can pulse with undeniable life.
Review – Ricardo D. Flores
Photos – Ryan Rumpel
