The nineties turned out to be a fairly challenging decade for Einstürzende Neubaten. Not only were they destined to lose two members (Mark Chung and FM Einheit); they had also lost the ability to truly shock their audiences with sound. By 1991, creating instruments out of bits of sheet metal and shopping carts and pressure zone microphones and so forth, while still far from a mainstream pursuit, was an accepted and understandable artistic process. More significantly, EN had been recognized as serious musicians, rather than dismissed as a bunch of nutters pounding on sheet metal. They had effectively become a "brand" unto themselves, and unless they did something truly extreme -- descending into sheer Merzbow-style noise, perhaps, or carving flutes from corpses' femurs during performances -- they were in mild danger of becoming formulaic.

Although you may think you know what to expect from Einstürzende Neubaten -- and even if you own most of their nineties output -- Strategies Against Architecture III offers plenty of surprises. It is a thoughtful collection, clearly assembled with the group's fans in mind; rather than culling the majority of its tracks from EN's commercially-released records, it consists largely of oddities, unreleased tracks and alternate versions. It's an effective overview -- the listener will hear a number of familiar songs, and will get a pretty thorough impression of the EN sound -- but it's also more than a document for newcomers and convenience-lovers.

The group's diverse sound is well-represented on the two disc set. Pieces range from gentle, cabaret-friendly pop, such as the orchestral "The Garden", the duet "Blume", featuring Diana Orlof, and an alternate version of 1999's "Silence is Sexy" (Blixa Bargeld can be quite a crooner when he wants to), to more works like "Redukt" (a live version that builds on the original's impressive energy) and an extended version of "Was Ist Ist". Comparatively conventional tracks, like "Alles Was Irgendwie Nützt" and "Die Interimsliebenden", mix unexpectedly well with oddities like the guitar-and-gong installation piece "Zentrifuge", spoken-German-and-sound-effects sequences such as "Der Leere Raum", and spontaneous compositions like the moody, anguished "I Wish This Would Be Your Color".

Some of the best material here is culled from work EN did in the early nineties for Canadian dance company La La La Human Steps. There's a little of everything in this material, from the aforementioned "Blume" to the disturbing moody ambience of "Wüste". Particularly impressive is "Open Fire", a melodic, dancefloor-friendly piece that sounds a bit like Renegade Soundwave, at the absolute top of their form, jamming in a room full of wind chimes, scrap metal, pianos and music boxes. It even includes a sample of EN's N. U. Unruh describing the La La La Human Steps troupe in action; "They look like flying fish," he says. I wish I could have seen the dance piece that "Open Fire" accompanied.

Still, perhaps the best thing about Strategies Against Architecture III is the "extended band photo" that fills its gatefold; populated by the musicians and their offspring, it is -- like the 115 liner note photos -- a timely reminder that this music, however mechanical, was made by living, breathing humans who ate and drank and slept and had sex, just like the rest of us. In these days of samples and programmed beats, that's a daring admission.