"Third Uncle" Brian Eno's career as pop star, which lasted about as long as a college education, held such promise that I've periodically carried a grudge about the ambientitiousness of what followed and prevailed. Sure, I like
Music for Films. I like
Music for Airports. But I love this early stuff: the mid-'70s wacked-out, always melodic verse-chorus-versus pure pop magic, which he really attacks, bends and mutilates it every which way, just like you're s'posed to. I'm pretty sure that's a manual typewriter on percussion in "True Wheel." The crazy saxophone charts on "Fat Lady of Limbourgh" are as overweeningly plump as promised. And "Third Uncle" rocks like a mother, all tight forward propulsion momentum. Then you start to notice the jokes.
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