Peter Gabriel.
Before 1980’s Peter Gabriel (thoroughly engrossing review already available) and after his solo breakout album Peter Gabriel in 1977, comes Peter Gabriel’s Peter Gabriel; also not to be confused with 1982’s Peter Gabriel. On this, the second of four eponymous albums, the artist (whose name I seem to have forgotten) takes his sound toward that of catchy rock-pop with the likes of the percussion heavy “On the Air”, the technical “DIY” and the funky “Perspective”. Respite is offered through the tender piano ballad “Mother of Violence”, whereupon Gabriel argues that the root of violence is fear, in a far more concise way than Yoda ever could; as well as the tragically poetic ballad “Home Sweet Home” that tells the heartbreaking story of a man who finds a girl, has a son and gets married, before their poverty causes his wife to commit suicide with their child, he gambles the insurance money and ironically wins, enabling him to live in an idyllic country house. The topics of environmentalism (“Perspective”), acceptance of death (“Indigo”), originality (“DIY”) and musical artistry (“On the Air”) add a certain thought-provoking gravity to a wonderfully enjoyable record. Who needs Genesis?
David Gilmour.
Following the release of The Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here and Animals between 1973 and 1977 and a year before The Wall in 1979, David Gilmour attempts to escape from the shadow of Pink Floyd with his solo, debut self-titled album. This sense of claustrophobia caused by the rock and roll lifestyle Gilmour had been trapped in since the rise of Pink Floyd, as well as Roger Waters steering of the band’s direction, is felt throughout the album; tracks such as “I Can’t Breathe” and “No Way” featuring thinly veiled swipes at the Floyd frontman. On an album of mostly decent progressive, bluesy rock songs, the only one likely to be remembered is the whaling guitar and classic rock of “There’s No Way Out of Here”; although not written by Gilmour, the lyrics reflect the sentiment of the rest of the album in their depiction of isolation and disillusionment. Some allusions to later Pink Floyd releases (think The Division Bell) warrant David Gilmour worthy of a listen, but it struggles the reach the heights of his preceding albums released with Floyd.
Équinoxe.
Optimism in the dawn of a new scientific age. New discoveries breed wonder, but also scepticism and trepidation. The latest journey into the unknown reveals an extra terrestrial; friendly in nature, the explorers are able to communicate. Having learnt from this being they begin experimentation and quickly evolve technologically, which is not without danger. Upon rediscovering the being, it reveals itself to not be as docile as initially thought. An 8-bit, Street Fighter-style battle ensues, the alien eventually succumbing to the now superior technology of the adventurers. Though they emerge victorious, their joy is short lived as they contemplate the consequences of the power they now possess; a civil war on their home planet threatens. In order to save their species from mutually assured annihilation, they destroy their new equipment, along with their chances of returning home, in a bittersweet moment of reflection: their kin are saved but at the cost of their own lives. At least that’s my interpretation of Jean Michel Jarre’s ambient, electronic Équinoxe. A quite remarkable album.
More Songs About Buildings and Food.
Talking Heads’ second album, following on from 1977’s Talking Heads ‘77, has first time Heads’ collaborator and producer Brian Eno’s fingerprints all over it. Evolving from the previous record’s arty new wave roots, Eno introduces a certain danceability to More Songs About Buildings and Food, revealing a funky, infectiously energetic side to the Heads. David Byrne’s lyrics, delivered in his unique stuttered style, are often indecipherable, an opinion acknowledged by the man himself on “Artists Only”, though the themes of love and relationships are relatively obvious. “Found a Job” depicts a bickering a couple who, having agreed that there’s never anything good on TV, create their own show as an outlet for their creativity, saving their relationship; Byrne’s pitiable state on “I’m Not in Love” leaves him questioning whether love truly exists before asserting that it will eventually become useless and extinct; while the final track, “The Big Country”, reveals the love, not of a person, but of an environment, as Byrne, a resident of New York City and unable to understand the appeal of country living, declares the Big Apple is where he belongs. More Songs, unlike other albums that start strongly and fade away, starts well and only gets better, with arguably its better songs, “Stay Hungry”, “Take Me to the River” and “The Big Country”, ending the record. High recommend.
Hemispheres.
Where to start? The beginning, I suppose. The opening track, “Cygnus X-1 Book II: Hemispheres”, is an epic spectacle of fluid genres that epitomises prog Rush. Comprising six distinct chapters, the song continues the tale of Cygnus (the protagonist from the closing track of Rush’s previous release A Farewell to Kings) as they arrive on Earth and, confused by the warring gods Apollo and Dionysus and their followers, is declared the god of balance after ending the conflict between wisdom and love, between heart and mind. “Circumstances”, though somewhat forgettable instrumentally, lyrically is a touching expression of Neil Peart’s isolation, frustration and disillusionment; catchy chorus too. Further fighting rages on “The Trees”, as the maples believe themselves to be oppressed by the lofty oaks stealing the sunlight, while the belligerent oaks don’t see this disparity; I can’t help thinking there may be a metaphor somewhere in there. The closing track, “La Villa Strangiato”, begins in a minimal fashion with a classical Spanish guitar, gradually building, Peart’s drums not too flashy but deceptively complex, until the trio’s shackles are eventually released with full face melting power in a sheer wondrous prog instrumental (Rush’s first) tour de force. Symbolism, duality and prog rock. Mint.
Back to the Culture 