Welcome to Postmodern Accident. As a publishing entity, we did next to nothing this year and now the year's over. We love blogging soooo much.
THE MUSIC OF 2009
It's telling that of Pitchfork's Top 50 Albums of 2009 so far, I only own two. The first, I bought two weeks ago. The other, I bought months ago but have never bothered to listen to it. Meanwhile, I have five albums in their honorable mentions list, some of which I really like and may rank high on my own personal countdown. So if this isn't a sign of my tastes diverging from that of the kids nowadays, I'm not sure what is. I did next to nothing this year and now the year's over. I love approaching 40 soooo much.
The striking thing for me is that for some reason I think 2009 has been a good music year—much better than 2008, which I whined about here. Thus I feel compelled to talk about some of my favorite releases. I don't know if it will be a top 15 again, or maybe a top 10, or even an 8, but it will be typically postmodern and generally out of fashion, so stay tuned, if anyone at all is still even paying attention to this blog.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Sunday, August 09, 2009
The Pomax hiatus is ending soon.
Welcome to Postmodern Accident. I didn't mean to leave it lingering listlessly after two epic posts about 30-year-old bands, but hey, what exactly have I missed in the meantime?
I suppose I should have mentioned the Throbbing Gristle show. Oh, wait... I'll get me coat.
I suppose I should have mentioned the Throbbing Gristle show. Oh, wait... I'll get me coat.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Sounds of the Universe
Welcome to Postmodern Accident. Or maybe I should say Post-Emo Precedent, because this week’s postmodern topic is Depeche Mode. That’s right, Depeche Mode: the terminally unhip synth-pop band that was barely relevant even in the ‘80s outside a circle of black-clad introverted art girls and their gay-but-not-out boyfriends.
Pushing my obvious sarcasm aside, let’s start by venting.
DEPECHE MODE IS NOT STRICTLY AN “80s BAND”
Notice how nobody calls U2 an ‘80s band? Regardless of when a band gets started, successive decades of consistent and boundary-pushing work have a way of liberating them from time while individualizing them from their peers. More importantly, if a band single-handedly gives birth to a number of (admittedly terrible) subgenres, they become something other than pop-purveyors defined by a single moment in time.
But even on the simplest terms, technically Depeche Mode had their greatest commercial successes after the 80’s, including their most successful album, Violator, and its most successful single, “Enjoy the Silence.” The band has had five albums since then, all of which debuted near the top of the album charts, and all of which spawned successful Hot 100 singles, including “I Feel You,” “Barrel of a Gun,” “It’s No Good,” “Dream On,” and “Precious.”
DEPECHE MODE IS NOT STRICTLY A SYNTH-POP BAND
They are postmodern musicians in the truest sense; they incorporate other styles into their sound, which is a futuristic hodgepodge of everything nostalgic and influential to them. They did this with goth and industrial. They did it with arena rock and dance music. They did it with grunge and gospel. They did it with country and electronica. They’ve had elements of lounge, show-tune balladry, blues, and even jazz. So why are so many of their so-called fans stuck on their simplest productions?
A lot of fans—especially those based in Europe and South America—seem to be deeply invested in the clubbier side of Depeche Mode. They enjoy trance and house and weird cross-bred fusions of the two like “futurepop,” on which Depeche Mode undoubtedly had some influence but to which they never directly contributed. For example, they’ve never done a straight up dance record, and after their Vince Clarke-authored debut album, they’ve never really done pure synth music, either. By album #2 (the transitional A Broken Frame), they already started incorporating found sounds and weird slow tempos that threatened to tear the otherwise simplistic music apart. In the long run, Depeche Mode may not have set out to make progressive synth rock, but that’s essentially what they accomplished. How else can one explain such signature tracks as “Pipeline,” “Blasphemous Rumours,” “Stripped,” “Clean,” or “In Your Room”?
And now I move on to the heart of this article, and the reason why I brought up Depeche Mode in the first place. Last night, I was browsing blogs and music sites, looking for reviews of the new Depeche Mode album, Sounds of the Universe. It leaked to the internet last week (perhaps unfinished?) and the fan community is reacting. After a few minutes of scanning some additional reactions today, I sent my friend and fellow DM fan (hi, Cybil!) an e-mail that said:
“I've read a ton of reviews of this album and they all say the same thing.
Worst Depeche Mode album ever, no songs, some interesting sounds, no
songs, waste of time, no songs, Dave is a horrible songwriter, no
songs, etc. It's a bit overwhelming. I have not yet seen one positive review of the record.”
So now that I have presented all the facts, I have an admission to make. In a moment of desperate frustration after reading the relentless onslaught, not knowing how to react to all these flitty narrow-minded naysayers, I launched a bit-torrent application and downloaded the album. I am NOT condoning the leak nor do I support the free distribution of an artist’s music unless of course an artist wants it that way… but in my defense, I have already purchased and paid for the album via the iTunes Pass option (a great new marketing scheme for fans that is completely baffling to everyone else on earth, apparently). Now I am going to take the opportunity to turn a seemingly-illegal download into an attempt to counter some of the negative coverage the album has garnered since its leak. After all, I have a minor background in music criticism and I’ve written reviews from promotional copies before; I fail to see how this is any different.
Here it is, folks: Sounds of the Universe is without question the best Depeche Mode record since Ultra. I know I can’t see straight when it comes to my love for that record, so it is probably even the best since Songs of Faith and Devotion. And I’m not just saying this to be contrary to the popular reaction. If I genuinely agreed with what all the early reviewers are saying, I simply wouldn’t be writing this right now.
DEPECHE MODE FANS ARE CLEARLY ON CRACK
My initial reaction to the album was one of shock, for two very distinct reasons. I haven’t been surprised by the sound of a Depeche Mode record since the first time I heard “Barrel of a Gun” (and really, that song was completely within the realm of expectation). But this entire record surprises me. Twenty years on from Violator, Depeche Mode should be phoning it in. (Remember what U2 did a few years back?) I would have never expected to see so much progression from this band in decade #3 of their career. Dave Gahan and Martin Gore are really bringing out the best in one another now, and undoubtedly at the root of such potent creativity lies an incredible friendship. They are really combining their voices and their styles much more than ever before (going so far as to electronically merge their vocals at key moments on the album), sending Depeche Mode to completely new places. (For the record, I still have no idea what Andrew Fletcher does.)
That initial shock has faded with repeated listenings. The other element of my shock, which continues to grow, is one of utter disbelief: how do fans all around the world think this is bad?!?
The epic opening track, “In Chains,” has one of those killer choruses that seems to come out of nowhere, and the way it is artfully woven throughout the song indicates to me that Martin Gore is drawing from the same songwriting well that produced “World in My Eyes.”
“Hole to Feed” features a jaunty rhythm and a unique sound (including counterpoint vocals throughout) that are all the more impressive when you learn, as I did a few minutes ago, that this is a Dave Gahan composition. Like the previous album’s “Suffer Well” but not as familiar sounding, it’s an absolute killer.
Next up, the somewhat undeniable “Wrong” sounded fresh upon its debut as a single a few months back and it sounds even stronger in the context of the album. Though I initially found it anemic, I’ve grown to recognize how its repetitions sharpen its attack and its flourishes of analog synthesizer really represent the album well. It’s also matched by one of the best Depeche Mode videos ever produced, perhaps because they opted to stray outside of familiar Anton Corbijn territory. The band’s presence in the finished film is so understated that it makes the song feel even more like a signature track of theirs; with no obvious need to push the song with starpower, the song’s sound and message efficiently stand on their own… with a little cinematic help, of course.
The next few tracks establish the warmer and more overtly melodic central section of the album, with “Fragile Tension” boasting one of Gahan’s all-time best vocal performances against a backdrop of rolling synths and (wow!), a lot of guitar. The fact that I didn’t even notice the guitar upon initial listenings is a testament to the overall production of the album (by Ben Hillier), which betters his work on Playing the Angel in every possible way. The swaggering “Little Soul” is pure duet, but feels a bit heavier on Martin content and as such demonstrates so many of Depeche Mode’s disparate non-rock influences all at once; it’s a smooth, recognizable concoction that is both noirish and comforting at the same time. “In Sympathy” is the closest the album comes to the kind of synth-pop that most Depeche Mode fans apparently want, lying somewhere between “Halo” and “Lilian” and featuring the kind of anthemic-but-humble chorus that makes the band inimitable. The pure electro-pop of “Peace” continues in the same vein, bastardizing the typical cliché of heavy-handed rock by turning its message inward: “Peace will come… to me.” It is the only other obvious single contender on the album.
The pleading ballad “Come Back” initially gained some exposure from an internet broadcast showing the guys playing the song live in the studio. It’s absolutely worth watching and showcases another Gahan composition:
The studio version of the track sounds nothing like this, instead sounding a little more like Playing the Angel’s fairly generic “I Want It All.” This makes me think that Gahan and his co-writers, Christian Eigner and Andrew Phillpott, don’t write with arrangement in mind, and that perhaps dressing up the songs with Depcche Mode’s stereotypically lush arrangement doesn’t serve them the way that a spare accompaniment might; this is a minor quibble, however.
After the vaguely French-sounding instrumental “Spacewalker,” the album continues with the gentle “Perfect,” showcasing Gore’s writing at the top of its game. Though lyrically he continues to run with the trial metaphor that he introduced on “Condemnation” a decade and a half ago, here it is exemplary of how roots music has saturated most aspects of Depeche Mode’s sound rather than feeding stylistic exercises as it once did. The soaring chorus here is striking, and could lend the song to single material.
“Miles Away / The Truth Is” is the last of Gahan’s three contributions, and like the other tracks he delivers, it mirrors his input on the previous album. This one is a low-key rocker that isn’t far from “Nothing’s Impossible.”
“Jezebel,” the lone Martin vocal track on the album, is one of the best latter-day solo Gore contributions, with a better sound—a torch singer on a space station—than he’s had so far this decade. I would pay for an entire album of material like this from him, instead of another collection of misfired covers.
The sinister “Corrupt” ends things on a devilish note, driven by the same sort of rock crunch that propelled “I Feel You” but toned down to match the serpentine aura of their version of “Dirt” by the Stooges.
In the end, with so many fully developed songs, it becomes clear that Playing the Angel was merely a transition into the new age of Depeche Mode’s craft. Though the new record follows the same template almost exactly, its greater success stems from a clearer sense of purpose. After all, just look at the title… Just as Music for the Masses stepped up the band’s stadium palatability and Songs of Faith and Devotion pulled the band’s spirituality out of ironic territory, Sounds of the Universe states its intention and direction up front.
Pushing my obvious sarcasm aside, let’s start by venting.
DEPECHE MODE IS NOT STRICTLY AN “80s BAND”
Notice how nobody calls U2 an ‘80s band? Regardless of when a band gets started, successive decades of consistent and boundary-pushing work have a way of liberating them from time while individualizing them from their peers. More importantly, if a band single-handedly gives birth to a number of (admittedly terrible) subgenres, they become something other than pop-purveyors defined by a single moment in time.
But even on the simplest terms, technically Depeche Mode had their greatest commercial successes after the 80’s, including their most successful album, Violator, and its most successful single, “Enjoy the Silence.” The band has had five albums since then, all of which debuted near the top of the album charts, and all of which spawned successful Hot 100 singles, including “I Feel You,” “Barrel of a Gun,” “It’s No Good,” “Dream On,” and “Precious.”
DEPECHE MODE IS NOT STRICTLY A SYNTH-POP BAND
They are postmodern musicians in the truest sense; they incorporate other styles into their sound, which is a futuristic hodgepodge of everything nostalgic and influential to them. They did this with goth and industrial. They did it with arena rock and dance music. They did it with grunge and gospel. They did it with country and electronica. They’ve had elements of lounge, show-tune balladry, blues, and even jazz. So why are so many of their so-called fans stuck on their simplest productions?
A lot of fans—especially those based in Europe and South America—seem to be deeply invested in the clubbier side of Depeche Mode. They enjoy trance and house and weird cross-bred fusions of the two like “futurepop,” on which Depeche Mode undoubtedly had some influence but to which they never directly contributed. For example, they’ve never done a straight up dance record, and after their Vince Clarke-authored debut album, they’ve never really done pure synth music, either. By album #2 (the transitional A Broken Frame), they already started incorporating found sounds and weird slow tempos that threatened to tear the otherwise simplistic music apart. In the long run, Depeche Mode may not have set out to make progressive synth rock, but that’s essentially what they accomplished. How else can one explain such signature tracks as “Pipeline,” “Blasphemous Rumours,” “Stripped,” “Clean,” or “In Your Room”?
And now I move on to the heart of this article, and the reason why I brought up Depeche Mode in the first place. Last night, I was browsing blogs and music sites, looking for reviews of the new Depeche Mode album, Sounds of the Universe. It leaked to the internet last week (perhaps unfinished?) and the fan community is reacting. After a few minutes of scanning some additional reactions today, I sent my friend and fellow DM fan (hi, Cybil!) an e-mail that said:
“I've read a ton of reviews of this album and they all say the same thing.
Worst Depeche Mode album ever, no songs, some interesting sounds, no
songs, waste of time, no songs, Dave is a horrible songwriter, no
songs, etc. It's a bit overwhelming. I have not yet seen one positive review of the record.”
So now that I have presented all the facts, I have an admission to make. In a moment of desperate frustration after reading the relentless onslaught, not knowing how to react to all these flitty narrow-minded naysayers, I launched a bit-torrent application and downloaded the album. I am NOT condoning the leak nor do I support the free distribution of an artist’s music unless of course an artist wants it that way… but in my defense, I have already purchased and paid for the album via the iTunes Pass option (a great new marketing scheme for fans that is completely baffling to everyone else on earth, apparently). Now I am going to take the opportunity to turn a seemingly-illegal download into an attempt to counter some of the negative coverage the album has garnered since its leak. After all, I have a minor background in music criticism and I’ve written reviews from promotional copies before; I fail to see how this is any different.
Here it is, folks: Sounds of the Universe is without question the best Depeche Mode record since Ultra. I know I can’t see straight when it comes to my love for that record, so it is probably even the best since Songs of Faith and Devotion. And I’m not just saying this to be contrary to the popular reaction. If I genuinely agreed with what all the early reviewers are saying, I simply wouldn’t be writing this right now.
DEPECHE MODE FANS ARE CLEARLY ON CRACK
My initial reaction to the album was one of shock, for two very distinct reasons. I haven’t been surprised by the sound of a Depeche Mode record since the first time I heard “Barrel of a Gun” (and really, that song was completely within the realm of expectation). But this entire record surprises me. Twenty years on from Violator, Depeche Mode should be phoning it in. (Remember what U2 did a few years back?) I would have never expected to see so much progression from this band in decade #3 of their career. Dave Gahan and Martin Gore are really bringing out the best in one another now, and undoubtedly at the root of such potent creativity lies an incredible friendship. They are really combining their voices and their styles much more than ever before (going so far as to electronically merge their vocals at key moments on the album), sending Depeche Mode to completely new places. (For the record, I still have no idea what Andrew Fletcher does.)
That initial shock has faded with repeated listenings. The other element of my shock, which continues to grow, is one of utter disbelief: how do fans all around the world think this is bad?!?
The epic opening track, “In Chains,” has one of those killer choruses that seems to come out of nowhere, and the way it is artfully woven throughout the song indicates to me that Martin Gore is drawing from the same songwriting well that produced “World in My Eyes.”
“Hole to Feed” features a jaunty rhythm and a unique sound (including counterpoint vocals throughout) that are all the more impressive when you learn, as I did a few minutes ago, that this is a Dave Gahan composition. Like the previous album’s “Suffer Well” but not as familiar sounding, it’s an absolute killer.
Next up, the somewhat undeniable “Wrong” sounded fresh upon its debut as a single a few months back and it sounds even stronger in the context of the album. Though I initially found it anemic, I’ve grown to recognize how its repetitions sharpen its attack and its flourishes of analog synthesizer really represent the album well. It’s also matched by one of the best Depeche Mode videos ever produced, perhaps because they opted to stray outside of familiar Anton Corbijn territory. The band’s presence in the finished film is so understated that it makes the song feel even more like a signature track of theirs; with no obvious need to push the song with starpower, the song’s sound and message efficiently stand on their own… with a little cinematic help, of course.
The next few tracks establish the warmer and more overtly melodic central section of the album, with “Fragile Tension” boasting one of Gahan’s all-time best vocal performances against a backdrop of rolling synths and (wow!), a lot of guitar. The fact that I didn’t even notice the guitar upon initial listenings is a testament to the overall production of the album (by Ben Hillier), which betters his work on Playing the Angel in every possible way. The swaggering “Little Soul” is pure duet, but feels a bit heavier on Martin content and as such demonstrates so many of Depeche Mode’s disparate non-rock influences all at once; it’s a smooth, recognizable concoction that is both noirish and comforting at the same time. “In Sympathy” is the closest the album comes to the kind of synth-pop that most Depeche Mode fans apparently want, lying somewhere between “Halo” and “Lilian” and featuring the kind of anthemic-but-humble chorus that makes the band inimitable. The pure electro-pop of “Peace” continues in the same vein, bastardizing the typical cliché of heavy-handed rock by turning its message inward: “Peace will come… to me.” It is the only other obvious single contender on the album.
The pleading ballad “Come Back” initially gained some exposure from an internet broadcast showing the guys playing the song live in the studio. It’s absolutely worth watching and showcases another Gahan composition:
The studio version of the track sounds nothing like this, instead sounding a little more like Playing the Angel’s fairly generic “I Want It All.” This makes me think that Gahan and his co-writers, Christian Eigner and Andrew Phillpott, don’t write with arrangement in mind, and that perhaps dressing up the songs with Depcche Mode’s stereotypically lush arrangement doesn’t serve them the way that a spare accompaniment might; this is a minor quibble, however.
After the vaguely French-sounding instrumental “Spacewalker,” the album continues with the gentle “Perfect,” showcasing Gore’s writing at the top of its game. Though lyrically he continues to run with the trial metaphor that he introduced on “Condemnation” a decade and a half ago, here it is exemplary of how roots music has saturated most aspects of Depeche Mode’s sound rather than feeding stylistic exercises as it once did. The soaring chorus here is striking, and could lend the song to single material.
“Miles Away / The Truth Is” is the last of Gahan’s three contributions, and like the other tracks he delivers, it mirrors his input on the previous album. This one is a low-key rocker that isn’t far from “Nothing’s Impossible.”
“Jezebel,” the lone Martin vocal track on the album, is one of the best latter-day solo Gore contributions, with a better sound—a torch singer on a space station—than he’s had so far this decade. I would pay for an entire album of material like this from him, instead of another collection of misfired covers.
The sinister “Corrupt” ends things on a devilish note, driven by the same sort of rock crunch that propelled “I Feel You” but toned down to match the serpentine aura of their version of “Dirt” by the Stooges.
In the end, with so many fully developed songs, it becomes clear that Playing the Angel was merely a transition into the new age of Depeche Mode’s craft. Though the new record follows the same template almost exactly, its greater success stems from a clearer sense of purpose. After all, just look at the title… Just as Music for the Masses stepped up the band’s stadium palatability and Songs of Faith and Devotion pulled the band’s spirituality out of ironic territory, Sounds of the Universe states its intention and direction up front.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
My moment of surrender...
Welcome to Postmodern Accident. Welcome to 2009. Welcome to my bashful confession.
I FELL OFF THE WAGON
The U2 wagon, that is... After declaring War upon these bombastic Boys for the better part of the millennium, they started working with Eno again, commissioned Anton Corbijn to churn out heaps of visual product faster than Vicky Pollard can churn out illegitimate chav babies, and Adam Clayton graduated to "silver fox" status. So how was I to resist?
THEY FELL OFF THE BANDWAGON
Supposedly the almost-excellent No Line on the Horizon is already underperforming, especially when compared to the huge immediate success of its predecessor, 2004's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Why haven't all these corporate analysts figured out yet that the major difference so far is that U2 garnered a blow-out iTunes campaign for the last one? Isn't it pretty obvious to those industry types by now that iTunes can spin straw into gold?
WE DIDN'T GET ON OUR BOOTS
Okay, maybe not the only difference. (Lukewarm) lead single "Get on Your Boots" has deservedly underperformed, especially when compared to previous leads... "Vertigo." "Beautiful Day." "Discothèque." Whether one cared for them or not (for me: eh, nay, yay, in that order), it's hard not to see those songs as major entries to the U2 canon. But the new song has that glaring sound of an old band trying far too desperately to sound hip. When it conjures up memories of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire," you know there's an obvious problem.
I'll admit the slightly Middle Eastern tinge appealed to me at first (hello, Brian) but something kept nagging at me, and like thousands of others, I quickly realized what it was—its overt familiarity. Please see the following:
ALL THAT THEY COULD LEAVE BEHIND
So with all this evidence brought forth, why on earth did I submit? It sounds as if I'm making fairly strong arguments for the continued irrelevance of U2 in the 21st century.
Well, shucks. I'm only human.
My love/hate relationship with U2 (and that thing called Bono) is well-documented in my life, not least of which is the time I traded in 8 of their CDs for $40 to buy two used sport coats. Mostly, as much as I loved their continued experimentation throughout the '90s, I grew tired of them... and THEN they had the nerve to release two overhyped, overly safe records in a row. I didn't even pick up HTDAAB until last year, out of some misplaced sense of curiosity after the awesome reissues of their early '80s records. (And you know what? That record is *much* better than the previous one.)
The media covering No Line on the Horizon prior to its release repeatedly confirmed that U2 had begun experimenting again, with the right architects on the job to make it happen... Brian Eno and, to a lesser degree, Daniel Lanois. So despite the weak single, I felt obligated to give it a shot. And it's true -- the band seems to have finally left behind the need to leave behind what made them interesting in the first place. Does that make sense?
The title track rocks hard; Bono's performance here is astonishing. Truly, it's the best thing they've released since Achtung Baby. The third track, "Moment of Surrender," sounds like a soul-baring gospel song from outer space. It's magical, and not by coincidence a little bit like a track from Eno's 2005 record Another Day on Earth. "Fez: Being Born" is the most hallucinatory, atmospheric piece they've recorded this decade—and possibly since The Unforgettable Fire. Most importantly, there isn't a hint of bland balladry on the album until the 9th track, which at least showcases Bono's rich lower register (I have to admit, he's in fine form throughout the whole damn album). Ultimately, though it doesn't break any new ground (beneath her feet) for U2, No Line on the Horizon does carry its creators' greatest strengths from one interesting moment to another, reminding those of us who'd given up how we'd gotten hooked in the first place.
I FELL OFF THE WAGON
The U2 wagon, that is... After declaring War upon these bombastic Boys for the better part of the millennium, they started working with Eno again, commissioned Anton Corbijn to churn out heaps of visual product faster than Vicky Pollard can churn out illegitimate chav babies, and Adam Clayton graduated to "silver fox" status. So how was I to resist?
THEY FELL OFF THE BANDWAGON
Supposedly the almost-excellent No Line on the Horizon is already underperforming, especially when compared to the huge immediate success of its predecessor, 2004's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Why haven't all these corporate analysts figured out yet that the major difference so far is that U2 garnered a blow-out iTunes campaign for the last one? Isn't it pretty obvious to those industry types by now that iTunes can spin straw into gold?
WE DIDN'T GET ON OUR BOOTS
Okay, maybe not the only difference. (Lukewarm) lead single "Get on Your Boots" has deservedly underperformed, especially when compared to previous leads... "Vertigo." "Beautiful Day." "Discothèque." Whether one cared for them or not (for me: eh, nay, yay, in that order), it's hard not to see those songs as major entries to the U2 canon. But the new song has that glaring sound of an old band trying far too desperately to sound hip. When it conjures up memories of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire," you know there's an obvious problem.
I'll admit the slightly Middle Eastern tinge appealed to me at first (hello, Brian) but something kept nagging at me, and like thousands of others, I quickly realized what it was—its overt familiarity. Please see the following:
80's
70's
60's
ALL THAT THEY COULD LEAVE BEHIND
So with all this evidence brought forth, why on earth did I submit? It sounds as if I'm making fairly strong arguments for the continued irrelevance of U2 in the 21st century.
Well, shucks. I'm only human.
My love/hate relationship with U2 (and that thing called Bono) is well-documented in my life, not least of which is the time I traded in 8 of their CDs for $40 to buy two used sport coats. Mostly, as much as I loved their continued experimentation throughout the '90s, I grew tired of them... and THEN they had the nerve to release two overhyped, overly safe records in a row. I didn't even pick up HTDAAB until last year, out of some misplaced sense of curiosity after the awesome reissues of their early '80s records. (And you know what? That record is *much* better than the previous one.)
The media covering No Line on the Horizon prior to its release repeatedly confirmed that U2 had begun experimenting again, with the right architects on the job to make it happen... Brian Eno and, to a lesser degree, Daniel Lanois. So despite the weak single, I felt obligated to give it a shot. And it's true -- the band seems to have finally left behind the need to leave behind what made them interesting in the first place. Does that make sense?
The title track rocks hard; Bono's performance here is astonishing. Truly, it's the best thing they've released since Achtung Baby. The third track, "Moment of Surrender," sounds like a soul-baring gospel song from outer space. It's magical, and not by coincidence a little bit like a track from Eno's 2005 record Another Day on Earth. "Fez: Being Born" is the most hallucinatory, atmospheric piece they've recorded this decade—and possibly since The Unforgettable Fire. Most importantly, there isn't a hint of bland balladry on the album until the 9th track, which at least showcases Bono's rich lower register (I have to admit, he's in fine form throughout the whole damn album). Ultimately, though it doesn't break any new ground (beneath her feet) for U2, No Line on the Horizon does carry its creators' greatest strengths from one interesting moment to another, reminding those of us who'd given up how we'd gotten hooked in the first place.
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