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.