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Sunday, July 10, 2022

Brian Eno's Another Green World (2009)

I enjoyed Geeta Dayal’s meditation on Brian Eno’s great album, which is pitched well to the mood of the album and indeed to much of his work in the mid-‘70s and beyond. It appears in writing this 33-1/3 book that Dayal even used the Oblique Strategies card deck created by Eno in collaboration with multimedia artist Peter Schmidt. Eno famously used it while working on Another Green World and many others to follow. There’s a chapter where Dayal runs down the album tracks in order, like most of these books from the 33-1/3 series, but otherwise she is floating around Eno’s work and poking at it gently, trying to figure out how it works from the constituent pieces, and it’s somehow a perfect pleasure to read. She has taken great advantage of the many interviews given by Eno and others involved with the album, pulling amazingly on-point quotes from decades of them. She also received email from Robert Fripp, whose voice here is unusually pungent with love and respect. I always forget things like Phil Collins is on the album, or how odd it is that Fripp, late of King Crimson, and Collins, still in Genesis, would sign up at all for an album like this. Part of that is likely due to Eno’s strange charisma, so potent that Bryan Ferry reportedly kicked him out of Roxy Music for drawing too much attention away from him. Not even exiling him to the soundboard in performance could diminish his appeal. I jumped on the Eno bandwagon a little later, with the Bowie/Berlin collaboration, and was in thrall to his projects well into the ‘80s (with some return to strength in the early ‘90s with the Walkabouts track). Another Green World could well be the summit of his otherworldly powers—more like just one peak in a mountain range. But listen to me go on. Dayal has a similar devotion. One thing I like here is that she doesn’t land squarely on Another Green World. She also likes and discusses Discreet Music, released earlier in 1975. And she likes the two Fripp collaborations—(No Pussyfooting) from 1973 and Evening Star from 1975—as well as Eno’s first two solo albums. That’s a pretty good cluster, and she also delves into his influences, such as notably Steve Reich. For once one of these 33-1/3 books seems way, way too short. I wanted more of Dayal’s reflections and quotes from old interviews. There’s a little sentimental charge here too in the way it reminds me of listening to Another Green World and Eno in the ‘70s. The album is made to be listened to in quiet rooms, and it goes crazy places, from pop songs about tying your shoes to vivid jungle and forest scenes. It’s so odd and so perfect in its way it almost feels like a novelty, a precious intricate toy or gift. Honestly, I thought this book had some of that magic too.

In case the library is closed due to pandemic, which is over.

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