Kadavar have always been sonic shapeshifters. Once Berlin’s riff-slinging retro rockers with a Sabbathian swagger and vintage psych-rock pulse, the trio have spent the last decade steadily outgrowing their stoner-rock roots. But with I Just Want To Be A Sound, they do not just step outside the mould. They obliterate it.
Kadavar – I Just Want To Be A Sound
Release Date: Out Now
Words: Ash Nash
I Just Want To Be A Sound is not a rock record in any traditional sense. It is a full-body reset. A quietly radical, electronic rebirth that ditches distortion pedals for introspection and trades riffs for resonance. And it’s bloody brilliant.
Opening with the hypnotic title track, the album gently unfolds like a message in a bottle from deep space. “I just want to be a sound / I go up, I go down,” sings Lupus Lindemann with a softness that sounds almost weightless, floating over shimmering synths and warm ambient swells.
That kind of anthem is a mantra, that quiet declaration of freedom, of striking and beautiful impermanence.
Hysteria creeps in next, full of jittery tension and analogue anxiety. Minimalist electronics twitch and pulse like nerves misfiring while the rhythm pushes forward with an uneasy urgency. It is both claustrophobic and strangely comforting, like watching the sunrise after a sleepless night.
By the time Regeneration kicks in, the direction is clear. This is Kadavar reprogramming their DNA, tapping into a cosmic Krautrock pulse that echoes the motorik drive of Neu! and the synth haze of Tangerine Dream, but always filtered through their unmistakable sonic lens.
It is an evolution in real-time, and it is mesmerising.
Let Me Be A Shadow slows things down again, offering something ghostly and cinematic. A sigh of a song that lingers in the corners of the room. Meanwhile, Sunday Mornings is a proper standout, dripping with lo-fi melancholy and that post-party quiet where everything feels more fragile.
It is a track that does not try to impress, and that is exactly why it hits so hard.
Scar On My Guitar is the closest nod to their past. Think desert blues rather than doom riffs, with fuzz toned down to a haunted hum. It is a tune heavy with reflection as if sifting through old photographs and finding ghosts in the grain.
And then there is Strange Thoughts, a woozy, dreamlike instrumental that feels like it’s playing through a submarine radio from a distant planet. This is weird in all the right ways. Truth brings us back to something more grounded, built on hypnotic repetition and trance-like simplicity, while Star flickers with icy calm, like watching distant lights blink from an orbital station.
The closing track, Until The End, is an emotional full stop. A soft, slow-burning piece that feels like a farewell letter sealed with stardust. It is beautiful, and it lingers long after it ends.
Released on Hamburg’s Clouds Hill, Germany’s analogue temple of sound, you can feel the warmth and intention baked into every moment. This is not just a record. It is an experience.
Available on limited rosé vinyl (yes, it’s as lush as it sounds), CD, and digital, it’s the kind of album you will want to own, hold, and return to in quiet moments.
Kadavar are not chasing trends. They are not trying to recreate past glories. With I Just Want To Be A Sound, they are doing something much braver: letting go. Floating forward. Becoming something new.
This is not a reinvention. It is a rebirth, and for those willing to follow them into the ether, it is nothing short of magic.
A late-night listen. A headphones-on drift. A beautiful, shimmering testament to change, space, and sonic soul-searching.
