john cale, nico, kevin ayres, eno

...after saying his good riddances to the velvets john got euroavant with nico and garage skrunchy with the stooges, producing two of the finest wax from that period, he decided to give pop-singer-song-writer grooves a whirl...recording the tracks a few days after writing them he kept the original ideas fresh and eclectic, not moldy and homogenized like a lot of that 'talented artiste' mob were becoming back at the tail end of the swinging 60s...a bit of cod reggae and some country give a couple hints at some of the trends that would crop up in the rock and pop merging of the seventies (that cover image is kind of precient krautrock visual)...didn't set the popworld on fire but listening in the next century see's this sounding remarkably up-to-date...more than one young cat would love to get hold of the recording equipment and studio baffle to recreate whats happening here...

...marble index and desertshore with extras (demos/alt.vers) is just what a cat needs to journey outer-spaceways into serious hepper most euro avantsville way beyond the known dullest nothiness of the peripheral usual...anyways a cats checks this double coaster, whether it be as vast vistas of bleak desolation or havens of hope and beginnings these are cool trance vehicles for leaving time behind and entering a different area of being that don't open up too often...droning folk noise from dimensions unknown to most, only the select few shall ever venture near to where this sound emenates but they can revive the livin dream many fear may be crushed by the relentless onslaught of twenty first century amerikkkan empiracal machine that imposes demands from free thinking layabouts worldwide with its constant mediababble of 'doubletalk' and poisonous drugs peddled through dupes who know not what the master holds in store for their carcass of indifference...so in the end all that is desired to be known is when the janitor of lunacy comes to visit on the lawns of dawn a cat must withdraw to the dusty garrett, close the crushed velvet drape, prepare the leaf and sail forth on harmoniums agogo to a place of frozen warnings far beyond the borderline where the roses in the snow appear near the desertshore...

...icy cold and lonesome, dwelling in the outer reaches way beyond the mortal definitions of existance, from the darkest past to the uncertain future nico inhabits a time and place not on any map or in a time period known to the keepers of chronology...drifting on the ether, motionlessly sailing through celestial winds under the watchful eye of the guardians of chaos nico speaks from the temporal gap that runs between dreamtime and the unconcsious, the hazy untouchable landscapes that few ever glimpse let alone wander freely and unperturbed...nicos everpresent harmonium is backed by phil manzanera/eno/john cale so a fine stew of ever unfolding avant noise is effortlessly swirling with squeaks, croaks and moans all meandering through, weaving hypnotic patterns from the netherworld...the last in a loose trilogy that began with marble index and desertshore a few years earlier all truly beautiful albums that continue to offer new ways of thinking, ways of viewing the familiar from unfamiliar positions, late night listening indeed...

...the avant euro wing of the velvets and the poesy from the soft machine plus chart visitor (w/roxy music) all get together at the rainbow in old london town to make there presence known and sell some wares (they're all on island records)...the LP was released a month after the gig and for that time that was quick, almost like picking it up as a souvenir...eno kicks things off with a couple of wobbly poprock tunes followed by john cales singular take on 'heartbreak hotel' whilst nico brings the side to a close with her version of 'the end', the jimbo morrison song from the first doors album...side two belongs to kevin, it was supposed to be his evening with island records holding out most hope that he'd be the money spinner, with five groovy decadent ditties...overall its a cool look at these refugees from the nether-popworld who were all looking for some kind of way forward, from the past into the light...

...the year is one thousand, nine hundred and seventy four and we see kevin getting funky on a few of these tracks, complete with club femme vocals grooving the air molecules in the background...this was new record co. tactics at work, the idea being to try and shift a few units of their new 'underground' signing, it was seemingly a fancy notion to take kevin away from 'decadent-beatnik-in-garret', banish ethereal longings of the lounging lord byron on a mediterranean beach sipping from a large and majestic glass of absynth and get some pop parade action with him...didn't work, the entire concept of kevin as pop star is flawed from the very outset not least because kevs a singular artist, appealing as he does to a certain type of head, a cat not generally mixed up with the day to day runnings of cuboid living...side two sees a long track divided into sections of trancing bliss with nico trading off on vox...this is horizontal hep reefer grooves of the highest order...nicely nice...

...when eno parted company from roxy music it was basically the end of that combo from a future rocking point of view...they may have gone on to sell a stack of wax but was it any good, worthwhile hearin? the answers got to be a BIG-FAT-NO, blander and blander lounge crooning and anemic disco not fit for any heads consumption...this wax is just one example of how enos self confessed nonmusician noise was way out in front of his former colleagues...mixing in some dollops of primo soft machine/some solo style kevin ayres absinthe vocalization on some glam looking pop all smeared with his squiggly moogy-woogy noodling...an excellent start to the next thirty years of recording (though a cats on his own when it comes to some of that ambient stuff, thats another deal completely)...

...second go round for eno in his quest for pop stardom, although this would be pop stardom in some parallel world because even though these tunes are very accesible their avant streak is going to leave them just outside the pop sphere in the mid '74 times, when by now glam has been codified and the winners seem to be the sweet and bowie so no need for eno because the dame himself, the old chameleon of pop has the avant-pop star gig sewn up...most of this is highly amusing off centre clever pop with nice instrumental interplay bopping about in the mix, happy visions of syd barrett arise occasionally giving a cat to wondering about roxy music spearheaded by syd and eno with brian ferry as a teacher back in newcastle...again this wax reminds one of earlier underground pop doodlers soft machine, theres a most enchanting/disturbing quirky village atmosphere permeating the vibes, a place where nothing is as it seems, weird reflections that alter landscapes so each footstep is an unwitting adventure into the heart of otherness, a place where everything is understood by the initiated without communication in normal channels, telepathic signals from a reality just under the horizon...guests include robert wyatt/phil manzanera/portsmouth sinphonia, a nice little mix of sideways lookin talent...