...but of course, I'd prefer to stay in a listen to the latest John Foxx album!
Here's what my pen said after two plays of
META25CD - Disk I - Sound Tiny. Coloured. Movies
Having recently presented Jarre with a Lifetime Achievement Award and confessing that Foxx hated the Frenchman for his accomplishments in 1976, the opening strand of DNA is aptly titled.
'Maybe Tomorrow' (for Foxx own talents have yet to be commercially honoured) starts off immediately in the JMJ groove prepared by Kurfurstendamm and Looped Los Angeles, albeit punctuated by more bleeps and swirling string pieces than either of these soundtracks. Its fast for Foxx, pulsating and immediately catchy. Takes its cue from Trans Europe Express and mid-era Kraftwerk, but it also hints at some of the experimental rhythms Foxx composed during his Nation 12 period of relative anonymity in the earliest 90s. Which I guess lets him off...
Kaiyagura on the otherhand is a contrapunctal drifting piano piece. Quite beautiful. Simple and effectively calm-inducing. Full of ghosts and tiny fish.
City of Mirage hums its way into focus like a glimmer in the desert, a sequel to the wonderful Skyscraper - one of his finest pieces. CoM has a gentle but imposing majesty and carries you along with it. Thoroughly engaging and absorbing, and comes across as the most visual piece so far. Now I feel the lure of the accompanying DvD and look forward to Tezka's interpretation of this piece. Or was the music pulled together for the film? Resonant and ethereal. Almost choral in its structure. Haunting, yet absent voices. Fragments of Glass shimmer in the symmetry. A delightful piece.
Foxx brings the beat back in as Flightpath Tegel taxis onto the runway. Instantly familiar and with a strong hook, this will stand out as one of the most accessible instrumentals Foxx has yet released. Strident, heroic and easy. Rich with confidence and assuredness, and bursting with powerful dance-ability, this is the TV commercial he has always threatened to deliver. Yet you sense a nonchalant shrug, as if he could turn these things out in his sleep. And therein lies my problem with this kind of superficial synth-pop element that is creeping into to this chapter. It just lacks individuality and is too comfortable on the surface of the sea.
Thank heavens then that Foxx is a multicellular organism, and with a sigh of relief we glide back beneath the waves. This is where he blooms. It is in the ocean that he can breathe, more comfortable under the water than cruising on top of it. SInce first joining forces with sound engineer Steve d'Agostino, Foxx has become ever more experimental and diverse. Violet Bloom takes his sequence map in yet another direction and promises most for the future. Drones, echoes of engines, whispering voices. Splinters, cracks and fluid turbulence. Roses bloom in the mirror dust, and the tidal stream comes lifting us. Soundbites, heavily treated. Non-words. Memories. Footsteps and crackles.
Phantom Lover is an interruption. Cleverly placed, too - as if we have suddenly tuned in to a European radio station transmitting Radio Activity and Tangerine Dreams. Despite an ill-fitting title, its a charming chariascuro of light and volume, photography and watercolour. Quite deliciously weaves its way between all and everything.
A pleasant, refreshing and thought-provoking interlude. Where was I? Ah yes, I remember. Those derelict factories and empty hills. Distant skylines, chimneys and matchstick people. An earlier man walked this path, his memory blurred and shattered, his future behind him, lost in the warehouse. Holding hands and looking to the hand-held sky. Foxx first wrote of his Secret Life in 1981, and there is a biography of thirty years in these next two pieces. From the album of this name released twelve months ago, Part 2 has become my favourite piece, and again here it fits well and picks up the dreams of arriving. A hugely powerful presence. The listener, forward. Ominous and foreboding. The Quiet Man emergent. Chau gongs, black copper oxide. Intense. Bellini and Puccini, waltzing with Oppenheimer in the ever present hum of a distant machine. Melody is lonely, despairing and painfully beautiful. The sinister drone builds an atmosphere that evokes an intermittent spirituality against which the piano is crystallised. A battle of mistrust between tam tams and keys. Backwards treatment of sharp notes. Defiant. This is Foxx walking free, looking down and looking back. Experimental again, enjoying the freedom to reflect and inspire.
And so to next. Currently working with minimalist composer Rueben Garcia and avant-garde pianist Harold Budd, Foxx is in his ethereal element on Over The Mirage. He's back on the ocean, but this time drifting on its stillness, gliding blissfully through the gaps and relationships between music and silence, between self-indulgence and assured confidence.
His destination may be unknown, but the journey still holds many adventures to be observed from both the more familiar windows of a car and the mid-point of a grand and winding river.
DNA bases pair up with each other. Film and music. Acid and peppermints. Composition and freedom. Electronic and psychedelic. Digital and analogue. Painting and piano. Past and future. Foxx has always replicated and diversified, a genome taking care to ensure that each cellular organism contains at its core an exact copy of the hereditary text and grammar of the original cell. Sound and motion. Genetic makeup / Burton' s tailoring. Flicker down metabolic pathways...
The scent of eau de cologne, and the taste of tin.
Stand out tracks (for there must be those)
City of Mirage
Violet Bloom
A Secret Life 2 and 7
Listeners who like this album might also enjoy
Translucence and Drift Music
A Secret Life
Mirrorball
Tiny Colour Movies
The Garden
The Pleasures of Electricity
Cathedral Oceans 1 - 3
Shifting City
Metamatic
etcetra
