gtaylor@lasspvax.UUCP (Greg Taylor) (08/21/84)
Hi. With the coming of fall, the paper I write for is
back in circulation in central NY. I thought that I'd post the
weekly review column (since I'm wp-ing it on the vax anyhow) when
I think of it. I've already mentioned the David Sylvian album,
but it bears another pointer.
David Sylvian's first solo release _B_r_i_l_l_i_a_n_t _T_r_e_e_s
comes with quite a pedigree. As a founding member of Japan,
Sylvian presided over their transformation from third-string
Bowie clones to one of the truly absorbing bands working the
territory first opened by Bryan Ferry. Unlike Roxy Music,
who pretty much abandoned experimentation in favour of an
emphasis on emotion as style, Japan's work is increasingly
concerned with style as the external sign of an internal
choice, rather than an end in itself. By their final studio
outing _T_h_e _T_i_n _D_r_u_m, they had found a strategy that married
the potentialities of electronic instruments (the album was
awash in synthesizers in the clever disguise of wood and
brass), Sylvian's Ferrylike crooning, and an eastern hybrid
of funk and enka rhythms.
As a solo artist, Sylvian gives this restless urge to
recombination full reign. The results are impressive, not
least in terms of his ability to gather an impressive set of
sidemen from nearly everywhere, and to produce the sort of
album that Japan should have made. Joining Sylvian on this
record are trumpeter Jon Hassel, Holger Czukay from the Ger-
man band Can (whose work remains ahead of its time _s_t_i_l_l),
and Riuchi Sakamoto. The music that emerges is as eclectic
as such a lineup would suggest, but still tightly focused on
Sylvian's sense of craft. His songs in some way parallel his
choice of collaborators: they are extended bits of reverie
which often make their mark without reference to the _a_b_a_c_a_b
construction of the current pop song.
Each of the sidemen on the album bring a unique sense
of their own strengths as well. Riuchi Sakamoto is perhaps
the most crucial person in defining the sound of the album.
The lush orchestral washes of synthesizer used in his
soundtrack to _M_e_r_r_y _C_h_r_i_s_t_m_a_s, _M_r. _L_a_w_r_e_n_c_e (which he co-
starred in, along with David Bowie) are in abundance, and
both the voice and soloists are seen in sharp relief to
Sakamoto's synthesizer and piano work. Jon Hassel, whose
high-tech primitive trumpet is best known from his colla-
borations with Brian Eno is the "second voice" throughout
much of the album--the dense, choral, and non-western sound
that becomes the sign of the return to source that Sylvian
spends so much of the album singing about. Holger Czukay's
scratchy dictaphone recordings of his own French Horn play-
ing, along with various unnamed ethnic singers are normally
a sort of comical anomaly in his strange collaged recordings
(the most recent of which featured a rock version of "The
East is Red")--the evidence of a genuine eccentric at work.
In this album, they are strangely in place. In addition, one
gets to hear him play the guitar--which is what he origi-
nally did. He has not forgotten how, as his ringing rhythm
in "Red Guitar" so aptly demonstrates. about three fifths of
Japan show up here and there (most notably in the most
Japan-like dance number on the record "Pulling Punches"), ad
one is almost led to wonder whether or not some of the
tracks were at some point destined for some unfinished pro-
ject. If so, that project has become a thoughtful bit of
brilliance because Sylvian is not afraid to take a risk or
two, and certain enough of what he wants to produce an album
of controlled beauty.
If David Sylvian's music is the auditory equivalent of
an oriental feast (where the plates are as beautiful as the
food is delicious), then the Lyres' _O_n _F_y_r_e is the ultimate
cheeseburger with a side of fries and a tall, cool one. As
such, it is a bit of a reviewer's dilemma: we are interested
in approaches we can talk about, discuss, and place in some
proper context. The greatest compliment I can pay _t_h_i_s lit-
tle gem is to avoid that almost entirely. The good
cheeseburger, like good sushi, has its place. You should
send in your old copies of the latest Human League and Wang
Chung releases to be ground up and recycled into copies of
this one.
Boston label Ace of Hearts is making a bit of a reputa-
tion for itself as a producer of great American garage bands
in the finest sixties tradition (check out Ace of Hearts'
_o_t_h_e_r attraction the Neats for more corraboration). Produced
out the ashes of the seminal Boston punk outfit DMZ, found-
ing member J. Connoly knows the knack of the true party
record (that should actually be spelled _p_a_a_a_a_a_r_t_y, I sup-
pose): Lots of great old covers, no instrumental virtuosity
to keep the solo breaks longer than hook length, the sort of
revved-up Vox combo organ that would-be revivers like Joe
"King" Carrasco only got to sound tweety at best (this is a
_q_u_i_n_t_e_s_s_i_n_a_l combo organ record, my friends), and sense
enough in songwriting, performance, and production to _l_e_a_v_e
_a _g_o_o_d _t_h_i_n_g _a_l_o_n_e.
Their recent single "Help You Ann" (which got a lot of
favorable airplay on the college circuit) is included, along
with some fine versions of a few Ray Davies tunes. This
record is a breath of fresh air in an American market glut-
ted with "the _X-_i_s_h revival" of one sort or another. Real
playing, real energy, and real passion. You should have had
this record _b_e_f_o_r_e you started throwing all those summer
parties. It is not too late, though: those cold entertaining
evenings could gladly use a little heat and light of this
sort.