Tangerine Dream's 1982 release "White Eagle" was the first to give Johannes Schmoelling the major compositional credit, shared mostly with Chris Franke, with Edgar Froese taking something a back-seat for once.
The 20-minute major work, `Mojave Plan', starts slowly as a series of loosely structured echoing clanks and electronic wailings until a burst of sequencer-driven percussion ushers in a wash of synthesised string sounds and a strengthening sequencer beat. The opening screams and isolated percussion crashes return throughout the piece, but in a more ordered manner, to decorate a series of delightful synthesiser melodies in a characteristically meticulously constructed number. A synthetic horn line introduces a more melancholy tone for a time, with dancing piano and guitar-like voices circling around it, before a percussion-led descent into sonic chaos throws things out of kilter for a time. It is not long before the drums restore order again, though, and another jolly synthesiser tune introduces another heavy sequencer-drive section. This turns very like "Ricochet", with its potent percussion, heavy beat and reverbed vocal splashes. The constantly changing mix of synthesiser voices, sequenced bass and haunting mellotron tones is classic Tangerine Dream at their very best, complete with huge closing string chords of almost orchestral quality (just about their last ever grand gesture of the old style, as it turned out).
Although rather less than 4 minutes in duration, `Midnight in Tula' is also very reminiscent of "Ricochet" with its massive reverbed sound, and emphasis on rich percussive voices and a fast, driving bass-synth and drum beat, overlaid with vocal stabs and slaps. The following `Convention of the 24' is moodier and more like the band's brooding soundtrack work for "Thief" or "Flashpoint". The lurching sequencer beat, with which it starts, sustains the track for almost a full ten minutes, pausing only briefly for a soft flute-like melody to play out its mournful message in the middle. The main beat rises again amidst a bright guitar voice to join an absolutely cracking rattling percussion figure which hammers its message home in a far from subtle manner, subverting all to its pulse before the end. The peaceful flute voice wins out eventually though, winding the track to a gentle conclusion amidst the singing of a heavenly mellotron choir.
The final 4-and-a-half minute title track plinks and plonks its sequencer-powered path through more dazzling (and resonating) honey-toned synthesiser playing, with more noisy percussion stabs and vocal stutterings and splutterings aplenty. This is all presented in a most exquisite fashion, of course, although to my mind, it seems to be no sooner underway properly than it fades to silence, leaving me at least hankering after more. At just 38 minutes overall, this disc is pitifully short, but the standard of the music-making on it cannot be faulted. Nor can the production quality of this remastered `Definitive Edition', with all of the major sections of `Mojave Plan' properly indexed: highly recommended.