Record #887: Brian Eno & Kevin Shields – The Weight of History / Only Once Away My Son (2018)

Very few musicians have chased the sonic concept of pure texture with as much steadfastness and fearlessness as Brian Eno. Both as a musician and producer, he is responsible for some of the most gorgeous soundscapes put to tape, practically inventing the idea of ambient music and bringing those lessons into both art punk and more mainstream pop.

But very near the top of list who might give him a run for his money is Kevin Shields, the mastermind behind My Bloody Valentine and an aural savant so consumed by his pursuit of sonic bliss that it borders on pathological (let’s be honest, it’s probably a few steps past that line).

So the mere thought of them joining forces was enough for me to purchase this without hearing a second of it—and of course, it paid off.

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Record #752: David Bowie – Lodger (1979)

I received a great kindness the other day.

Some months back, my friend Billy commented on one of my posts about David Bowie and we got to talking about his Berlin Trilogy. I mentioned that I had never been able to find a copy of Lodger, the third (and perhaps oddest) in the run and put the conversation out of my mind.

But not Billy.

A few days ago, he showed up at my wife’s shop with a copy for her to give me. That is generous enough, but it went even deeper. As it turns out, many years ago, he had given away his record collection when he came to faith, and when he found out that I was missing this record, he tracked down the friend to whom he had gifted his records so that he could fill the gap in my collection.

That’s a rare gift, and in most cases, the music itself would be overshadowed by that generosity. But Lodger is just as odd and meandering as the tale that brought it to me.

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Record #121: David Bowie – Low (1977)

low

The way the story goes, after years of commercial success and a crippling drug addiction, Bowie left L.A. and moved to Berlin to get clean and make weird music with Brian Eno (the three albums would come to be called the Berlin Trilogy).
And in the face of Young Americans and Station to Stations’ plastic soul, Low is entirely unprecedented and off-kilter.
On Low, The Man Who Fell to Earth strips off any pretense of humanity and indulges in the song of his people. Synthesizers beep and blip in jarring patterns, angular guitars stab jaggedly, and Bowie sings multitrackedly with himself, all Bowies singing with an exaggerated vibrato that swells and crescendos in inhuman rhythms (see: “Sound and Vision”).
Brian Eno’s presence is strongly felt, whether in his contributions or in his influence on Bowie. The songs on side one are avant-garde free-for-alls with obtuse arrangements free of the tyranny of the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus structure, where side two is filled with “more” experimental, mostly voiceless, electronic pieces.
The most notable of these pieces is the eastern-tinged droning “Warzsawa,” with a theme written by a four year old and a vocal segment featuring one hundred and ten David Bowies. There’s also the electronic wash of “Art Decade,” the minimalist staccato pound of “Weeping Wall”, and the ambient “Subterraneans,” all of which were described by Bowie as attempts to show the despair of a post-war Europe (which might explain why my wife asked, “Why’s David Bowie so sad?”).
Combined with the angular chaos of the first side (which, amazingly, was made while he was getting OFF of cocaine), side two creates a record that, while critically acclaimed, was clearly NOT David Bowie as usual. In fact, my old roommate once told me that Low was the only David Bowie album he liked, to which I responded, “then you don’t like David Bowie.”

Record #71: Brian Eno – Ambient 1: Music for Airports (1978)

There are a handful of records that I put on if I just want to drown in texture, without being barraged by coherent lyrics or rhythms. Those records are Victorialand by Cocteau Twins, In a Silent Way by Miles Davis, Loveless by My Bloody Valentine, and this, Brian Eno’s first effort of creating ambient music that is, as he says, “as ignorable as it is interesting.”

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