Now that's a bandname. See, Deutschland knows how to do it. They've got Rammstein, Schlammpeitziger, Kreidler and To Rococo Rot. The gimmick is unbeatable: you might not feel like pronouncing it, but once you see it in print, you probably won't forget it. What the hell has America ever done that's been worthwhile in the bandname department? Tortoise? Nirvana? The Beach Boys? We can spout off "catchy" mono- and dual-syllabic bandnames for the rest of eternity, but at the end of the day, nothing rolls off the tongue like Einstürzende Neubauten.

In English, Kammerflimmer Kollektief translates to "The Shimmering Collective." Suitable, I suppose. Mäander is 56 minutes of kammerflimmering keyboard and guitar drones, wildly distorted percussion, and tape noise, backed with jagged, mathy rhythms and the occasional sax freakout. Equally rooted in 70's kraut-rock and 90's post-rock, the record plays out like a drug-free instrumental psychedelic jam session.

But Amon Düül II and Labradford aren't the only points of reference here. Mäander, like so many experimental bedroom recordings these days, compresses multiple genres into single tracks. What makes it work are the genres Kammerflimmer choose to explore. "Faller" solders a sparse jazz drum loop to chopped piano pieces that could have been pulled from the Dirty Three's thickening catalog; "Simultan" references Louisville math-rock drumming while a broken sax blurts Coltrane riffs over squalling guitar; "Tuch" combines crackling vinyl samples with minimal trip-hop beats, moaning central European violin passages, and reverbed, midwestern guitar. The concept may not seem revelatory, but the execution is definitely inspired.

Interestingly, Kammerflimmer Kollektief was not originally a Kollektief at all, but rather, one Thomas Weber of Karlsruhe, Germany, a guy whose record collection I'd really like to take a look at. Most of Mäander's material is culled from 12" EPs Weber released for the German-based Payola label between 1996 and 1999. Five new tracks have been added since Kammerflimmer's 1999 expansion to a six-piece ensemble. But the piecemeal fashion in which the record was constructed detracts little from Mäander's overall cohesiveness. The tracks are sequenced so naturally and fluidly that you'd never suspect that many of them were recorded three years apart.

Fleshed out with hazy, organic effects and enough instrumentation to get somebody killed, Mäander has a tremendously calming effect, lulling like a Sobakawa pillow while casually assaulting you with sprained guitar yelps and crooked feedback. Its unpredictable, free-form nature bathes in Road Cone aesthetics, but could converse as easily with Thrill Jockey's roster. For now, though, it's found a home with the up-and-coming Baltimore experimental imprint Temporary Residence. I say, awesome. Any way we can get more cool German bandnames in the record bins is alright by me.

-Ryan Schreiber