Boyd Rice And Friends
Music, Martinis And Misanthropy

The controversial Boyd Rice still sparks discussion today, even though he has "retired" to a decidedly more subdued artistic life: just visit his official site and you'll find a logo beyond doubt—an ouroboros encircling a rune.

No surprise there, given his past and current associations. From Death in June to all the various side collaborators of David Tibet and Tony Wakeford's projects, Rice has been a cornerstone of the right-wing ambient-folk scene. Between runes and political prophecies, Reich nostalgia and revisionism, he undoubtedly pursued difficult artistic choices with determination, surviving the controversies and establishing himself as a substantial figure of reference.

Moreover, not many know that the famous Mute Records (home to Depeche Mode and Moby) reissued his entire discography some time ago. A sign that those in the industry have made fairly unbiased assessments.

So... the album I'm talking about is, in my opinion, an excellent example of what Boyd Rice was capable of, during a phase of his career when the entire aforementioned music movement was at the peak of its notoriety. At that time, he was focusing almost intimately on his favorite themes: the History and future of civilization. "Music, Martinis and misanthropy" became a manifesto of Rice thought, dipping the brush into the sensations and emotions that had already characterized the discography of friends Patrick Leagas and Tony Wakeford, as well as the more mocking Stapleton and Tibet of the project Current 93. With a minimalist musical approach, now purely folk, now more martial, now also ambient, Rice stages his sermons in a low, confident voice, reciting an ideological fabric that at times—though sociopolitical—is cloaked in oneiric and romantic gleams.

Intense the revisionist controversy, intense the atmosphere suggesting unsettling visions of death as the greatest common denominator in the history of civilization. The crystalline and melancholic guitars only rise in the closing breaths of strong declarations of "creed" before being swallowed by silence. Subdued keyboards support the words and tragic songs of friend Rose McDowell, already an ethereal and gothic presence on many Current 93 albums. And then distant orchestras evoke recent History as in a slow-motion dream.

The misanthropy highlighted in the title emerges at times, but it is predominantly a spirit of calm inner energy mixed with a kind of visionary limbo where ghosts and premonitions materialize. The beautiful "Disneyland can wait" is a significant piece in this regard. But "As for the fools" and "History lesson" also perfectly capture the dominant mood of the work, alternating with more traditional and predictable folk moments (I'd rather be your enemy) and those minimalist (Shadows of the night).

In short... not a work for all tastes that should be listened to without too many preconceived notions. Obviously more accessible in its sound value when one refrains from translating the lyrics.... but frankly (right-wing or not), it's a real shame to separate the two, because here the music is integral to the lyrical content and only by immersing oneself 100% into the various tracks can one grasp the coherence and artistic and intellectual cohesion of a man who through music truly expressed all of himself.