Published on 12th February 2018
Novalis – Schmetterlinge
When purchasing a career-spanning box set of a band that you’re not overly familiar with, you have to keep an open mind and expect the unexpected. For me with Schmetterlinge, the gargantuan 15CD/1DVD box set including every studio and live album by German romantic rockers Novalis, the unexpected was finding myself uncontrollably belting out choruses of Manchmal fällt der Regen eben lang and other latter-day pop songs every five minutes or so.
The band, who took their name (and also a lot of their lyrics) from an 18th Century German poet, began life as a symphonic prog act, but the pull of commercialism was too great and by the mid-’80s they were unrecognisable from their former selves; just like a lot of prog acts really. Novalis were quite late to the scene, however, and so were only able to release a couple of truly brilliant progressive albums before their metamorphosis began.
The Schmetterlinge box itself is about an inch deep and would fit snuggly amongst your vinyl collection. Inside is a giant 56-page hardback book which holds all 16-discs neatly and keeps them easily accessible. Also included is a giant black and white poster of the band pictured next to some leaping dolphins, which will – bizarrely enough – make sense later. The book contains an in-depth history of the band with liner notes and song lyrics, with many band photos and poster scans to supplement the material. Unfortunately for English speakers, this is all in German so you might want to revisit your dictionary or your GCSEs. Regrettably, for a box set this size, almost no effort has gone into reproducing the album artwork, so fans will have to make do with the meagre 6cm × 6cm images that contain only the front cover of each album. This is a pity, especially since Novalis, Brandung and Flossenengel all had beautiful gatefold covers that deserve to be rendered in full.
Encouragingly, all fifteen CDs have been newly remastered by Eroc from Brain stablemate Grobschnitt – who are also the subject of a recent career-spanning box set, more on that later. Only being familiar with two Novalis albums previously, it’s difficult to comment what improvement this is over the previous editions. I will say that I chose not to update my edition of Novalis, as I could hear some hiss in the intro of the Eroc remastering of Es färbte sich die Wiese grün. Meanwhile, the new bass on the intro of Sommerabend was enough to get me ripping straight away.
Novalis’s career begins in 1973 with their very own “White Album”; Banished Bridge appeared on shelves with a blank cover only containing the band’s name and the album title. The album itself is a different story, dominated by the sidelong dynamic title track. Although Banished Bridge contains some compelling sections headed by keyboardist Lutz Rahn, the piece feels a little cobbled together without much cohesion. In fact, the entire album sounds distinctly less polished than the band’s later records, from the muddy production to the jejune songwriting as well as the lyrics in English, which the band would eschew from then on. This doesn’t prevent the collection from being enjoyable, with the experimental nine-minute Laughing taking the listener on a bizarre journey where nobody is sure where they’re going.
The band’s self-titled sophomore album would hit the shelves two years later, and it’s clear that the band have sorted themselves out by this point. Singer Jürgen Wenzel had been fired, with bassist Heino Schünzel taking up the singing responsibilities, this time in German. Guitarists Detlef Job and Carlo Karges had also been hired, giving the band a more rounded and versatile sound. Rahn also appears to be more on top of the keyboards. The band had also worked on their instrumentals, with no less than three out of the five tracks here containing no lyrics whatsoever – the other two being 80% instrumental anyway.
The two shorter tracks can be disregarded; the tinny keyboard sound on Sonnengeflecht is the main culprit of why the track gets on my nerves, while Dronsz does simply that: drones. The other three tracks stand around the nine-minute mark, and they are what put Novalis on the map. A fan favourite, Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört begins with some cheesy vocals but soon dips into a dynamic instrumental featuring symphonic passages contrasted with up-tempo rock ‘n’ roll. Impressionen aptly plays out like an actual symphony, featuring beautiful yet rigid themes interspersed with bombastic sections. Rahn’s organ work towards the end of the piece is phenomenal. Lastly, Es färbte sich die Wiese grün brings to life the poet Novalis’s work with aplomb and very tasteful arrangements; perhaps the most elegant piece on the album.
Impressively, the band were able to reach even higher on Sommerabend, which some might see as the band’s Close to the Edge – and not only since the album has a three-song format similar to the Yes masterpiece. The instrumental Aufbruch kicks off the album, and it’s basically Impressionen, Part Zwei: a symphonic instrumental with recurring bombastic themes. It’s a wonderful piece and somewhat heavier than Impressionen but remains a little overshadowed by its predecessor. Wunderschätze gives the listener a second dose of Novalis poetry, rendered perfectly in a blistering progressive rock setting. Drummer Hartwig Biereichel is instrumental, leading the steadily quickening pace perfectly. The exciting three-minute coda is perhaps one of the band’s finest moments.
Surprising then, that the eighteen-minute Sommerabend suite itself is so mellow and relaxing. Showing enormous restraint, the band ventures into space rock territory with this Floydian piece. So slowly does the suite move, it’s actually difficult to see where the pieces fit together, and it comes as quite a surprise when the vocals come in during the seventh minute. Not quite as far out as Floyd, the band expertly tempers the loose feel of space rock by giving the piece an elegant structure to follow, an invisible scaffolding. Even more surprising is the up-tempo Ein neuer Tag section – reminiscent of Love’s Hey Joe – that seemingly flies in the face of the previous twelve minutes’ work; to me it represents the energy and optimism of a new day after a peaceful summer evening. All of this might have been in vain if the band didn’t find a suitable closing to the song, and repeating the themes heard near the start, thus signifying the cycle of days, was an excellent way to do this. A masterpiece.
At this crucial point in the band’s career, Brain thought it wise to release a live document of the band’s work, and Konzerte fits the bill perfectly. Amazingly, they managed to fit over an hour’s worth of audio onto just one LP. Banishing all songs from Banished Bridge, the songs on Seite Eins were from Novalis while Seite Zwei contained songs from Sommerabend, including the full Sommerabend suite. Played with the energy that can only come from live performances, the music is a fantastic artefact of the band at their creative peak. The songs do not differ too radically from their studio versions but Rahn’s and Job’s live solos do take on a life of their own on this record. As a bonus, this CD edition also contains live versions of tracks from the first side of the upcoming Brandung album. The second side can be heard live on the DVD, but we’ll get to that later.
From the first seconds of Brandung, it was clear that the dynamic of the band had changed. Singing duties had shifted from Schünzel to the band’s charismatic new singer Fred Mühlböck on Konzerte, but his presence could truly be noted on the new material he’d had a heavy hand in writing. Irgendwo, irgendwann, with its catchy chorus and pop sensibilities including a breakdown section, became a minor radio hit. Props to the band for managing to sneak a Mellotron onto FM! Wenn nicht mehr Zahlen und Figuren and Astralis both featured Novalis poetry adapted by Mühlböck, but could not sound more different from each other, the first being an acoustic track with classical tendencies, the second being a much longer streamlined prog track. Astralis is interesting, enjoyable yet distinctly inferior to the music on Novalis and Sommerabend. Perhaps it’s the presence of route-one verses and choruses that didn’t exist on their previous albums, perhaps it’s the less creative instrumental. It simply doesn’t work as a follow up to Wunderschätze. And then there’s the side-long suite Sonnenwende, each part of which is individually enjoyable but altogether doesn’t feel like a suite at all, merely a collection of songs. It was clear at this point the band were past their zenith, but fortunately, good times lay ahead.
Brandung was in a sense, the inevitable awkward puberty stage Novalis had to go through to reach their more mainstream accessible side. Their metamorphosis was far from over, but by 1978, they had found a sound they felt confident with. Vielleicht bist du ein Clown? is surprisingly the most fun album in the band’s career, a masterful blend between the extravagances of prog and the accessibility of pop rock. Manchmal fällt der Regen eben lang and Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown? are easily some of the band’s catchiest tunes; the latter is boosted by a Tull-esque flute solo from Mühlböck. Der Geigenspieler on the other hand is a more successful approach than Astralis at blending prog and accessible rock, beginning with a quiet and melancholic section and slowly adding dynamics until the fast-paced finale. Meanwhile Zingaresca and City-Nord add two decent Camel-like rock instrumentals to keep prog fans happy. An absolutely corking album.
What came next, however, was a surprise to everybody. Flossenengel, with its garish cover featuring a whale’s tail, looked just like another trip down pop lane. Surely nobody could have expected it to be a deeply mature prog concept album about a whale named Atlanto that gets captured and put in a zoo, all the while containing themes about the relationship between man and nature? Even after several listens, I still get surprised by just how good this album is. Right from the opening instrumental, featuring several ominous Inception-esque blasts, it’s clear this isn’t going to be average Novalis fare. Im Brunnen der Erde and Brennende Freiheit introduce the concept and the characters in pure symphonic prog style, and there’s no limit to the quality of the writing. Im Netz at eight minutes veers close to Floydian space territory, a Novalis trait not seen since Sommerabend. Flossenengel grounds the album once again with the tasteful sounds of an accordion whilst showcasing Mühlböck’s impressive vocal range.
Over on Side Two, we receive an intermission in the form of Walzer für einen verlorenen Traum, before the gritty blues rock of Sklavenzoo adds some much needed funk to the album. The band haven’t forgotten their pop side however, and the chantable Alle wollen leben manages to lend the album a lead single whilst remaining appropriate in the album running order. It may strike the listener however, that the band frequently make use of the word ‘Lebensraum’ in the song which, according to Collins German Dictionary, can mean ‘habitat’ and not… you know… that other thing. The fast pace of Rückkehr and Ob Tier, ob Mensch, ob Baum provide a suitable finale to what has been a truly epic album. At forty-five minutes, this was the longest album by the band to date, so it’s a lot to take in at first. Repeated spins however ensure the listener that this is indeed a gem.
The turn of the decade reflected the end of an era for the band, a point where they became more focused than ever on writing hit songs; this is the point where most prog fans will rightly tell you to stop listening. Nevertheless, there is joy to be found on the next few albums, if you let go of any notions of Novalis as a progressive band but rather think of them as a pop band with progressive tendencies. Augenblicke is first up, starting with the eerie and melancholic instrumental Danmark reminding us of the band’s Camel-like tendencies. From now on, the instrumentals would no longer be symphonic, rather fleshed out musical ideas with generally tasteful arrangements. This quickly brings us to Ich hab’ noch nicht gelernt zu lieben an undeniably route-one zero creativity pop song that nevertheless has me singing along whenever I hear it. Perhaps this was the band’s goal all along, to find the easiest way of getting people hooked on their music.
Prog influences do show up here and there on the album, such as the Heep-like vocals on the folky Herbstwind; the continued use of prog instruments like the organ, despite this being an ’80s album; and most prominently the use of ⅞ time signature on Sphinx. While the band disappoints with unmemorable tracks like Magie einer Nacht, these are made up for with well-written instrumentals like Cassandra and soft ballads such as Als kleiner Junge and the closing track Begegnungen. It’s a mixed bag, to say the least, but there’s more good than bad here.
Neumond explores similar territory to Augenblicke but with an important difference. Schünzel had recently left the group, leaving a void in the bass department that the band would never permanently fill. Neumond and Sterntaucher will raise eyebrows in the Krautrock community as they contain the collaboration between Novalis and multi-instrumentalist Heinz Fröhling of Schicke Führs Fröhling fame. Fröhling can immediately be heard adding his tasty licks to the opening instrumental Anakonda, but it’s not so easy to hear him elsewhere. A band without a fixed bassist is in dire straits indeed. To show just how dire things were, consider this: one of Neumond’s tracks was called simply Du bist schön. It was never going to be a masterpiece really.
Oft sagt man mehr, wenn man schweigt is Neumond’s very own Ich hab’ noch nicht gelernt zu lieben: utterly banal, entirely simple and yet you’ll hear me singing it if it comes on. How are they able to push these buttons? Highlights include the energetic Frühsport im Sachsenwald, which would work as an excellent running track, the chantable Kein Frieden and the aptly dreamy eight-minute Nachttraum. While the title instrumental Neumond disappoints with its simplicity, Rahn manages to evoke genuine sadness on Blauer Morgen with his masterful keyboards.
On Sterntaucher, the band would take an edgier, arena-rock based approach to their current brand of pop-rock. The album opens with the middle-of-the-road tracks Fährmann and Ich will hier ‘raus; the former sounds like a latter-day Caravan out-take, although the ominous quiet section in the middle was a truly strange step by the band. The power ballad Abschied on the other hand starts to take the band where they want to go. At seven and a half minutes, the more epic ballad Keiner kann gewinnen is somewhat convincing, but upon closer inspection makes up its duration by including lengthy gaps between verse and chorus. The closing Job guitar solo is long overdue. Sterntaucher itself contains some rather cringe-worthy white reggae in the chorus; The Police they are not. The only other track of note is the anti-greed anthem Grenzen (meaning “limits”) which makes the listener sit up by including a couple of lines in English, the band’s first since Banished Bridge. Though a little preachy, it’s much more preferable than the band’s mediocre pop attempts.
The final albums showed the band steadily losing their quality control, and Bumerang was markedly worse than what had come before. Nimm meine Hand opens the album competently with a slow start that builds to a driving beat, supporting straightforward, memorable lyrics. Heard on its own, the dreamy Spazieren im Morgen also has tasteful qualities, such as the beautiful cadence of the flute that brings to mind classics such as I Talk to the Wind. However, the effect is ruined by Torero der Nacht, which I’m going to go out on a limb and say is the band’s worst song by far. Oozing cheese for all four minutes and nineteen seconds of its length, this horrible song evokes and romanticises images of “Disco-Arenas” and “Longdrinks” all with the ghastly protagonist “Torero der Liebe”. It’s horribly dated and shows just how far Novalis had strayed from their progressive roots. At this point, any break from Mühlböck’s cheesy vocals and lyrics is a gasp of fresh air and the thoroughly ’80s instrumental Über Stock und Stein does just the trick. The title track also has some charms to it, with the chantable chorus, but the rest of the album, including the two bouncy forgettable instrumentals Wien and Espresso, fails to impress. Perhaps the only reason you’d listen to this album is for the sound of Rahn’s organ, which does add a touch of nostalgia to the affair.
And then we have Nach uns die Flut: “Flut” translates as “flood”, so sadly the only woodwind you’ll hear is some cheesy pop sax. Mühlböck had called it a day after nearly a decade with the band, but with his departure, the band seemed to go through a huge transformation. With new and distinctly different singer Ernst Herzner, the band seemed to try and make up for charisma they lost with Mühlböck with their music, which took on a supercharged, over-dramatic tone on their final album. It’s still a pop album, but it feels more like “Die Novalis Show”. The album even has a loose concept feel to it, starting with a long instrumental section in Die Show ist aus and finishing with the rock ballad Applaus Applaus and a final flurry from Job on guitar. Everything in between is just mad, quite the opposite of the relatively laid-back Bumerang. Twelve songs are present, and not a single instrumental to be seen, making this quite a lot to take in. Despite the newfound adrenaline, the songs nevertheless remain bland and unmemorable. Job, however, is in top form, and lets forth some Brian May-esque guitar solos on this album, the highlight being on the aptly named …und wenn die Gitarren brennen. On this song and on the drab title track, the band team up with Linda Fabian, whose female vocals take Novalis even further from normality. Perhaps my favourite track is the funky Heute oder nie with quixotic lyrics urging “Anna” to seize the day.
Soon, Novalis was no more. A posthumous live compilation ironically titled Novalis Lebt! was released in 1993 featuring music from concerts taped between 1981-84. Unfortunately for prog fans, this would be a “pop-era only” release, the earliest track on the record being the stomping Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown?. In fact, besides this song and Flossenengel’s cheery Alle wollen leben, the album exclusively features tracks from Augenblicke, Neumond and Sterntaucher, blissfully ignoring Bumerang and Nach uns die Flut altogether. While I was expecting this to be a torturous session, I was quite surprised at how much I enjoyed hearing all those pop songs again, and how well I knew the lyrics. The cheesiness of Ich hab’ noch nicht gelernt zu lieben and Kleinwenig mehr did nothing to hinder my enjoyment this time around. Even the relatively dull Du bist schön receives a new lease of life when performed live. In fact, it’s because of this album that I’ve found myself listening to Fährmann much more often than the vastly more progressive Banished Bridge. There’s something very cathartic about going through so many albums that were seemingly dismal, then to hear them played once again but with so much energy. It sheds a whole new light on the band’s latter-day period. The set is book-ended with the arena anthem Grenzen, which bizarrely enough gives some cohesion to the scattered playlist.
More recently, in 2009, another live album entitled Letztes Konzert 1984 was released, taken from a bootleg concert recording in the band’s hometown of Hamburg. Interestingly, this was originally a 2CD release, but it seems Eroc was able to slim the album’s contents from 83 minutes down to 79 without cropping any of the tracks, probably with some judicious cutting of the audience’s applause. More interestingly still, the title Letztes Konzert doesn’t seem to refer to the band’s last concert ever, rather the last one in 1984, and the final appearance of the familiar Fred Mühlböck. Naturally, the setlist is less cherry-picked and shows a more realistic appearance of the band at that time. While there are many popular crossovers from Lebt! – including another edition of Fährmann, yes! – there are a few important differences in the set. Several tracks from Bumerang are now available to be reassessed including the very concert-friendly Nimm meine Hand, the deliciously flutey Spazieren im Morgen, the ’80s-cop-film-inspired Über Stock und Stein and of course the heavy title track itself. Fortunately, Torero der Nacht cannot Charme his way into this set. Another unexpected decision was the exclusion of Alle wollen Leben in favour of Flossengel’s raucous closing track Rückkehr, which does just feel out of place a little amongst all the pop, but sounds great nonetheless. The biggest and best surprise, of course, is the encore, a medley of Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört and the band’s crossover hit Irgendwo, irgendwann which absolutely brings the house down, bringing the band back to their progressive roots.
And talking of the band’s progressive roots, the first two tracks on the bonus CD, Wait for Me and Changin’ Days, take us right back to the start, featuring murky-sounding demos dated earlier than Banished Bridge. Accordingly, both tracks also have lyrics in English, but they don’t make much sense anyway. Both also have a psychedelic semi-improvised atmosphere and don’t feel quite finished, but are fun nonetheless. Straight after, we are given a shocking injection of hip-hop with the 2006 track Block Rock by Ghostface Killah, which clearly and effectively features a looped sample of Dronsz. I’m not quite sure why the bonus CD would include this work; I’ve never heard of any prog bonus CD featuring a song by another band sampling them. It would be like Queen’s Hot Space including Ice Ice Baby as a bonus. I suppose the producers wanted the listeners to see how Novalis music has remained in modern music. But why choose that one track, when there are many other bands who have sampled Novalis?
Curiously, the producer of Block Rock, which appeared on the album More Fish, was a certain Madlib, who also sampled Dronsz for his own track Interlude 3. This is immediately followed by the real Dronsz played live in 1974 and then by another non-album track A New Beginning, which feels more polished than Wait For Me or Changin’ Days and has a certain Genesis taste to it. After a live version of Inside of Me (Inside of You) from the band’s first album, a glorious early live version of Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört is revealed, here titled Children Of Your Father, replete with almost incomprehensible English lyrics. Sadly, only the first half of the track was recorded. Seeing the band in this embryonic era is certainly fascinating, but it’s a good thing they got out of their English phase sooner rather than later.
Just when you thought you were all done, there’s a DVD to get through as well, and this is where things really get strange. There’s only an hour of material here, but the content covers all eras of the band, building up a picture of Novalis im TV. An all too brief dark concert clip of an extract from Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört is all you get of the band’s early period. To make up for it, the full Sonnenwende suite is shown live from WDR. Not my favourite suite of course, but it’s a great video nonetheless. Mühlböck starts coming to life with Vielleicht bin ich Ein Clown? and Alle wollen leben, which seem more suited to his personality than the prog of yesteryear. It’s invaluable to watch this DVD to comprehend the Austrian singer’s presence in the band and the effect of his charisma on the audience.
The TV appearance of Rückkehr is interrupted by stock footage of whales and an interview where the band discuss the environmental theme of the album, the origins of the band’s name – duh, it’s a German poet, we knew that already – and the merits of having their lyrics in German. The last video drops Mühlböck altogether and shows the band fronted by Ernst Herzner promoting Nach uns die Flut on… a kids show? This Die Spielbude extract shows the band diligently performing the up-tempo …und wenn die Gitarren brennen to a bunch of thoroughly bored pre-teens. Pedro Pascal look-alike Detlef Job seems like he’s having fun, but drummer Hartwig Biereichel seems ready to throw in the towel. Perhaps this is the best representation of just how low the band had sunk. They don’t even play the whole song! As a strange bonus, the disc also features 18 minutes of video from an open-air concert sometime in 1977/78 (even the band aren’t sure!). There is apparently no audio for this video, so instead, other live audio clips are presented alongside, giving a strange disjointed feel to the proceedings. Perhaps the biggest error was placing 1983’s Kleinwenig mehr against this footage, a massive anachronism if there ever was one. You simply can’t hear Wunderschätze too many times though, and it’s a brilliant song to close the DVD and thus the box set with.
Schmetterlinge has been something of a personal journey for me. You cannot go through 16 discs worth of material and not feel some affinity with a band. I fully expected to listen to the latter-day albums once or maybe twice, but have come out appreciating nearly every aspect of the band’s career in one way or another. My German vocabulary has rapidly increased as a result!
It is a shame that the band’s “progressive” side is only present on the minority of these albums, making Schmetterlinge an unlikely contender for many prog fans’ wish lists. There are some obvious flaws with the package too: the lack of any English for international appeal, the relatively scarce bonus tracks, the mismanagement of album artwork. Nevertheless, it is a fantastic set in that it presents this misunderstood group in their entirety, warts and all, which is how they deserve to be assessed. The listener will feel all the richer for sticking it out with them until the end. Novalis may never have been the most technically brilliant or innovative band, but they put every ounce of passion they had into their music and the results were outstanding.
CD 1: Banished Bridge (1973)
01. Banished Bridge (17:12)
02. High Evolution (4:32)
03. Laughing (9:14)
04. Inside Of Me (Inside Of You) (6:39)
Time – 37:34
CD 2: Novalis (1975)
01. Sonnengeflecht (4:08)
02. Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört (9:17)
03. Dronsz (4:57)
04. Impressionen (9:00)
05. Es färbte sich die Wiese grün (8:20)
06. Impressionen [Live in Hagen 1975] (10:36)
Time – 46:15
CD 3: Sommerabend (1976)
01. Aufbruch (9:42)
02. Wunderschätze (10:47)
03. Sommerabend (18:19)
Time – 38:47
CD 4: Konzerte (Live) (1977)
01. Bolero (0:51)
02. Dronsz (1:53)
03. Es färbte sich die Wiese grün (8:51)
04. Impressionen (9:45)
05. Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört (9:13)
06. Wunderschätze (11:25)
07. Sommerabend (18:58)
08. Wenn nicht mehr Zahlen und Figuren (3:31)
09. Astralis (10:11)
10. Irgendwo, irgendwann (4:30)
Time – 79:03
CD 5: Brandung (1977)
01. Irgendwo, irgendwann (4:42)
02. Wenn nicht mehr Zahlen und Figuren (3:09)
03. Astralis (8:58)
04. Brandung (3:44)
05. Feuer bricht in die Zeit (3:46)
06. Sonnenfinsternis (3:01)
07. Dämmerung (5:41)
Time – 32:58
CD 6: Vielleicht bist Du ein Clown? (1978)
01. Der Geigenspieler (8:18)
02. Zingaresca (5:16)
03. Manchmal fällt der Regen eben lang (3:53)
04. Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown? (6:26)
05. City-Nord (6:12)
06. Die Welt wird alt und wieder jung (4:37)
Time – 34:39
CD 7: Flossenengel (1979)
01. Atlanto (4:40)
02. Im Brunnen der Erde (4:28)
03. Brennende Freiheit (2:2)
04. Im Netz (8:11)
05. Flossenengel (3:28)
06. Walzer für einen verlorenen Traum (3:29)
07. Sklavenzoo (5:06)
08. Alle wollen leben (5:07)
09. Rückkehr (6:32)
10. Ob Tier, ob Mensch, ob Baum (1:50)
Time – 45:06
CD 8: Augenblicke (1981)
01. Danmark (3:34)
02. Ich hab’ noch nicht gGelernt zu lieben (3:33)
03. Cassandra (3:28)
04. Herbstwind (4:49)
05. Mit den Zugvögeln (3:17)
06. Sphinx (3:26)
07. Als kleiner Junge (5:19)
08. Magie einer Nacht (3:58)
09. Begegnungen (4:48)
Time – 36:09
CD 9: Neumond (1982)
01. Anakonda (4:04)
02. Oft sagt man mehr, wenn man schweigt (5:14)
03. Frühsport im Sachsenwald (5:51)
04. Du bist schön (4:10)
05. Kein Frieden (3:35)
06. Neumond (3:30)
07. Nachttraum (8:10)
08. Blauer Morgen (4:02)
Time – 38:31
CD 10: Sterntaucher (1983)
01. Fährmann (4:55)
02. Ich will hier ‘raus (4:09)
03. Abschied (3:51)
04. Keiner kann gewinnen (7:39)
05. Kleinwenig mehr (3:4)
06. Sterntaucher (4:38)
07. Grenzen (6:34)
08. Sinus (5:47)
Time – 41:07
CD 11: Bumerang (1984)
01. Nimm meine Hand (4:41)
02. Setz dich zu mir (3:28)
03. Spazieren im Morgen (3:55)
04. Torero der Nacht (4:19)
05. Über Stock und Stein (3:56)
06. Bumerang (4:36)
07. Wien (3:36)
08. Horoskop (3:44)
09. Espresso (3:14)
10. Talisman (3:54)
Time – 39:18
CD 12: Nach uns die Flut (1985)
01. Die Show ist aus (3:44)
02. Im Neonlicht der Nacht (4:10)
03. Drachen im Wind (3:39)
04. Nach uns die Flut (4:22)
04. Wo sind die Sieger am Ende der Nacht (3:53)
05. …und wenn die Gitarren brennen (3:26)
06. Hamburg (Ertrinken möchte ich nicht in dir) (4:49)
07. Heute oder nie (4:01)
08. Gingst vorbei (3:20)
09. 100 Tage und Nächte verloren in Altona (4:05)
10. Wohin willst du gehn (4:19)
11. Applaus Applaus (2:50)
Time – 46:32
CD 13: Novalis Lebt! (1981-84) (1993)
01. Grenzen (6:52)
02. Fährmann (4:51)
03. Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown? (6:41)
04. Danmark (3:31)
05. Kein Frieden (3:29)
06. Herbstwind (5:19)
07. Frühsport im Sachsenwald (5:52)
08. Du bist schön (3:57)
09. Cassandra (3:28)
10. Neumond (3:28)
11. Ich will hier ‘raus (3:57)
12. Ich hab’ noch nicht gelernt zu lieben (4:03)
13. Mit den Zugvögeln (3:25)
14. Alle wollen leben (4:54)
15. Kleinwenig mehr (3:19)
16. Sterntaucher (5:37)
17. Grenzen (2:47)
Time – 75:24
CD 14: Letztes Konzert (1984) (2009)
01. Kein Frieden (3:28)
02. Ich hab’ noch nicht gelernt zu lieben (4:07)
03. Cassandra (3:31)
04. Spazieren im Morgen (3:59)
05. Nimm meine Hand (4:30)
06. Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown? (6:38)
07. Über Stock und Stein (4:04)
08. Bumerang (4:50)
09. Mit den Zugvögeln (3:42)
10. Ansage (0:23)
11. Rückkehr (7:48)
12. Fährmann (4:39)
13. Kleinwenig mehr (3:15)
14. Sterntaucher (5:30)
15. Grenzen (7:07)
16. Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört/Irgendwo, irgendwann (11:37)
Time – 79:00
CD 15: Schmetterlinge
01. Wait For Me (11:35)
02. Changin’ Days (7:29)
03. Block Rock [by Ghostface Killah] (2:29)
04. Dronsz [Live] (3:17)
05. A New Beginning [Live] (7:10)
06. Inside of Me (Inside of You) [Live] (7:12)
07. Children of Your Father [Live] (4:55)
Time – 44:03
01. Wer Schmetterlinge lachen hört (4:01)
02. Sonnenwende (17:55)
03. Vielleicht bin ich ein Clown (5:06)
04. Alle wollen leben (5:28)
05. Rückkehr (7:21)
06. …und wenn die Gitarren brennen (2:42)
07. Open Air 1977/78 (18:06)
Time – 60:38
Total Time: 12:55:06
Lutz Rahn – Keyboards
Detlef Job – Guitar & Vocals
Hartwig Biereichel – Drums
Fred Mühlböck – Vocals & Flute
Heino Schünzel – Bass & Vocals
Jürgen Wentzel – Vocals & Acoustic Guitar (Banished Bridge)
Carlo Karges – Guitar & Keyboards (Novalis)
Heinz Fröhling – Bass (Neumond & Sterntaucher)
Manfred Seegers – Saxophone (Kleinwenig Mehr)
“Thissy” Thiers – Bass (Bumerang)
Ernst Herzner – Vocals (Nach Uns Die Flut)
Hinrich Schneider – Bass (Nach Uns Die Flut)
Linda Fabian – Vocals (Nach Uns Die Flut)
Christoph Busse – Vocals (Nach Uns Die Flut)
Heli Schneider – Bass & Vocals (Letztes Konzert 1984)
Manfred Lappé – Guitar (Wait For Me & Changin’ Days)
Record Label: Vertigo/Capitol (Universal Music Germany)
Country of Origin: Germany
Date of Release: 31st March 2017
Novalis – Band History (in German)