Showing posts with label Peter Gabriel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Gabriel. Show all posts

19 May 2019

Peter Gabriel - So (1986)



1) Red Rain; 2) Sledgehammer; 3) Don’t Give Up; 4) That Voice Again; 5) Mercy Street; 6) Big Time; 7) We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37); 8) This Is the Picture (Excellent Birds); 9) In Your Eyes

Gabriel lets his pop sensibilities fly free and creates one of the defining albums of the 1980s.


Key tracks: "Red Rain", "Sledgehammer", "In Your Eyes"

The 80s didn’t treat many of the previous decade’s rock stars kindly. Or rather, the rock stars had no clue how to react to the times and repeatedly embarrassed themselves as a result. The advancing studio technology and the increasing scope and capability of synthesizers shaped the sounds of the era and many past giants, nervous of losing their cultural foothold, took the path of lowest effort and let the trends shape them without thinking twice. The result is an embarrassing grey spot in a number of rock history’s classic discographies, which people are either warned about or which fans pretend just don’t plain exist.

Peter Gabriel saw the new technology as an opportunity. His solo career had started out fairly mundane but it had evolved and gained new depths as the albums kept coming. Gabriel is an artist who sees the studio as his favourite instrument: his musical development and a lot of the depths and strengths of his music are integrally tied to advancements in technology unlocking new musical possibilities, sometimes spearheading these advancements himself. He’s an artisan producer just as much as he is a musician and the 1980s came as a blessing to him. The new possibilities served as an inspiration, a way for him to make the music come alive exactly as it appeared in his imagination. And thus, where most of his peers wilted away, Gabriel flourished: this was his playground, not a submission to trends.

So is Gabriel’s version of the ‘80s Pop Album. It’s obviously more accessible than his previous albums: he’s never shied away from a more direct sound (he did start his solo career with “Solsbury Hill”, after all) but So is markably more universally approachable, brushing off the more abstract soundscapes and brimming with choruses that feel instantly at home in stadiums for crowds to connect to. The key difference is that Gabriel has done it in a fashion that emphasises his strengths, rather than hiding them underneath trends. If anything, the central audible theme of the album isn’t the hook-favouring direction but how Gabriel exercises the new freedoms and possibilities he’s found with the new studio technology. Sonically So is just as adventurous as his past albums, but in a different direction: taking the lessons he took from his prior forays into soundtracks, mixing in the world music inspiration he was starting to dwell in and finding a way to bring the absolute best out of every layer and instrument he saw fit to include. The 2002 remaster is even clearer about this: the gorgeous remastering work (which I presume has been kept with subsequent re-releases) helps to push off some of the more dated symptoms of the era and allows the details of the rich arrangements come out more boldly. So is, quite frankly, absolutely golden to listen to in terms of pure sound. The rich sound also helps to underline the sheer amount of talent Gabriel had gathered around him to bring his vision to life, in particular in the rhythm section thanks to Tony Levin’s superbly fluid bass finding the perfect match in Manu Katché’s precise, fill-happy drumwork.
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The ubiquitous “Sledgehammer” is here, obviously - it’s a song that defines the album both in music history as well as conceptually, its punchy groove and shout-out chorus having become Gabriel’s signature song as well as indicator of the album’s approach to production. It’s incredible, really - it’s stacked with one instantly memorable stand-out moment after another, building its intensity until unleashing a finale that bids farewell to the song’s killer chorus completely because it’s found something even bigger. That it’s actually nowhere near the album’s best moment is the real testament to So’s quality: after launching into it early on, following the epic opening statement “Red Rain” that could happily be a signature moment for Gabriel on its own (it’s certainly one of his most awe-inspiring moments, particularly as the choruses take their dramatic flight), So’s tracklist morphs into a borderline arrogant series of dethroning its most famous song. “Don’t Give Up” builds something grand out of the simplest elements and progression, devoting much of its space to the simple magic of Gabriel and Kate Bush’s charisma sparking against eachother in one of the album’s two key guest spots. “That Voice Again” is warm and welcoming with its keyboard-laden soar, Gabriel beckoning with an openly inviting tone that comes off almost shocking after the relative coldness of the preceding albums. “Mercy Street” features one of the album’s most wonderful moments of production, this time married to a deep atmosphere and a majestic tune. “Big Time” is effectively Sledgehammer 2 (including a similar video) and re-uses all its tricks, and while it’s not quite as strong as the original it finds a more urgent, frantic approach that gives it its own voice. And there is “In Your Eyes” - a strong contender for Gabriel’s greatest moment overall. It’s so serene it’s downright disarming and so uplifting that it soothes the soul, Gabriel pleading and praising with such a vulnerable tone that it feels like he’s tapping into some sort of universal connection.

The experimental tone of PG III and IV has largely been pushed to the sidelines, relegated to two songs near the end. Out of these, “We Do What We’re Told” is a bit of a non-event: it’s an effectively atmospheric mantra with a more soundtrack-like feel but its mood isn’t particularly engaging or haunting despite its best wishes, and what you’re left with is the album abruptly slamming down the brakes to hear Gabriel and backing vocalists repeat a few lines over and over again. Gabriel did a lot of soundtrack work across the 1980s and “We Do What We’re Told” feels like a remnant. “This Is the Picture” fares far, far better. So largely defines Gabriel in the 1980s but he kept himself busy dropping a scattering of random songs across various compilations and, yes, soundtracks throughout the decade. These songs had a more neurotic groove to them and “This Is the Picture” falls along that line as it finds Gabriel and Laurie Anderson (the album’s second major guest vocal) trade lines atop a twitching, minimalistic groove that keeps rebuilding itself. It’s still highly at odds with the rest of So, but “We Do What We’re Told” smoothes its entrance (so I guess that’s why it’s there) and the song itself is downright hypnotic: over time it’s become a strange personal favourite that I never quite acknowledge when thinking about the album but find myself entranced by when it does eventually appear.

Where most of his fellow 70s rock figureheads lost themselves in the 1980s, So is, in my opinion, where Peter Gabriel really found himself - where his solo discography really comes to life. That’s not a knock on his previous albums by any means because they are all good (okay, maybe not PG II), but they were audibly restricted by their era’s limitations, particularly as Gabriel got more adventurous. Starting from So, Gabriel finally had the means to reach the full extent of his visions. In no way is sound ever more important than the actual songcraft, but as said before Gabriel is just as much a producer as he is a writer: that rich, highly-detailed and carefully thought-out sound is an integral part of how his songwriting comes to life. And you can hear the difference: So is full of life, ideas and evocative moments of absolute musical genius. At its best moments it radiates a grand sense of wide-eyed wonder that joyously raises the hair on your back with excitement. So is comfortably not only one of Gabriel’s very best, but a landmark album of the 1980s in general.

One final note regarding the tracklist. The original running order in 1986 was compromised by the limitations of the vinyl format and there are probably a number of people to whom it’s more natural that “In Your Eyes” is in the middle of the album. Gabriel fixed this with all subsequent re-releases and it’s honestly such an improvement that the original running order is plain insulting. The two off-beat tracks do not make a convincing closer and the album finishing with “In Your Eyes” is a natural climax point, given both the song’s emotional resonance as well as how it musically builds into an epic finale. It’s one of the best examples of retroactive tracklist amendment, and no one should need to go through the original sequencing anymore.

Rating: 9/10

18 May 2019

Peter Gabriel - Passion: Music for The Last Temptation of Christ (1989)



1) The Feeling Begins; 2) Gethsemane; 3) Of These, Hope; 4) Lazarus Raised; 5) Of These, Hope (Reprise); 6) In Doubt; 7) A Different Drum; 8) Zaar; 9) Troubled; 10) Open; 11) Before Night Falls; 12) With This Love; 13) Sandstorm; 14) Stigmata; 15) Passion; 16) With This Love (Choir); 17) Wall of Breath; 18) The Promise of Shadows; 19) Disturbed; 20) It Is Accomplished; 21) Bread and Wine

Arguably the most prominent display of Gabriel's love for regional world music. The usual film soundtrack caveats apply, but Gabriel at the very least does something unique here in terms of scores.


Key tracks: "Of These, Hope", "A Different Drum", "With This Love"

At one point I made it a point that absolutely, definitely had to own everything officially released by any artist I liked. I’ve long since relaxed my rules, but that period of joyous collection with abandon has led me to some potentially inspiring purchases like this album: a soundtrack to a film I’ve never seen, performed in a style intentionally different to usual sound of the artist.

Passion was Peter Gabriel’s second soundtrack, recorded for Martin Scorcese’s The Last Temptation of Christ, and it was the first to comprise of fully original work (the prior soundtrack to Birdy extensively sampled Gabriel’s past solo albums). As a project it’s incredibly more ambitious than anything Gabriel had done before. The Last Temptation of the Christ is obviously biblical as per its name and Gabriel decided that the score should match its context: using it as a launching pad for his endeavours to raise the profile of world music, he utilised local musicians and area/era-appropriate instruments as much as possible and incorporated melodies and rhythms from local folk songs and hymns into the music. The modern touch is there with Gabriel’s favoured synthesizers showcasing their signature sound across the disc and his regular band members make appearances throughout, but all the modern instruments contribute more to background texture than melody. Passion, in addition, goes further than just the film – the soundtrack was released months later after extensive reworking by Gabriel to expand on the themes he had scored for the film and to make it a more powerful standalone experience. It has the feel of a passion project (appropriately) for Gabriel that he found a change to indulge in with the soundtrack request: that he backed it up with a companion album highlighting the folk music of the region that served as the inspiration says as much. As far as Hollywood film scores go, Passion is quite unique.
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It’s still a film score, though. Film scores, perhaps more than any other type of soundtrack, are made to be hidden in the background, to underline rather than stand out. Gabriel continuing to expand these tracks bears little effect on this apart from a few obvious cases like “A Different Drum” which utilises (wordless) vocals so heavily that it would come across distracting in the film. Whether it does, I don’t know – I still haven’t seen the film, and given I’m not much of a film buff it’s unlikely I will either. That obviously means I lack the context that might be necessary to really unlock the power of the music: the knowledge of the scenes and events they were meant to emphasise, which would then in turn make the music more impactful. But if Gabriel wanted to make this an album more fit for standalone consumption, it’s not particularly great at it outside a few given moments: the powerful “A Different Drum” (which features Gabriel himself the most), the eerie “Of These, Hope” (and in particular its reprise), the triumphant “It Is Accomplished” (which wouldn’t need a lot of extra work to turn into a ‘real’ Gabriel anthem) and “With This Love”, which hosts the most beautiful melody of the album. Most of the album ends up blending together rather more non-descriptively: it’s all excellently atmospheric and mood-setting, but bereft of stand-out moments.

That mood is Passion’s greatest feat. It’s an album with a wonderful soundscape: the atmospheric synthesizer work mingling with the traditional instruments, often gorgeous and haunting on their own, is an enchanting combination. Gabriel’s also a masterful arranger who knows how to utilise rich instrumentations and this is another showcase for his knack. There is a lot to enjoy and admire in Passion’s sound and the 2002 remaster I own further highlights it: like all of the albums in Gabriel’s remaster series at the time, the sound has been updated into pristine perfection. Still, even with its aural charms it doesn’t feel as rewarding as it probably should when looking at the parts it does well. It sounds good but it doesn’t grip, and that’s something I look for in soundtracks when outside their primary context. In conclusion, it is perhaps an album that highlights its creator’s skills than it is one for active listening.

Rating: 6/10