Brian Eno
Discreet Music

Months ago in a used vinyl shop, I found myself holding Discreet Music which, based on the facts, is the album I've listened to the most in my life. The back of the album featured an unsettling dedication: "To Cinzia, a discreet album for a Discreet girl. April 1984."

I imagined this guy, dressed like an eighties commercial for De Longhi's Sfornatutto, who instead of going for Madonna and Phil Collins, let himself be captivated by this title to do the unexpected. Admirable.

Admirable that the guy went searching for cacophonous dedications, wooing a discreet girl not in the Markovian-algorithmic sense (something presumably more interesting to Eno than to Cinzia's admirer) but really in its discreet sense as in discretion. I don't even want to know what the guy had to hide, to aim directly at discretion as an additional element. The truth is he just wanted to show off. I know it. I feel it. He didn’t even know how Discreet Music sounded and if he had known, there he would go, diving onto the Flashdance OST.

Discreet Music operates on a discreetly pentatonic solution hinted at in a reduced version within “Evening Star” by Eno & Fripp, and subsequently replayed for a straight half-hour. The solution mentioned above, played with an EMS, was stuck by Eno into a pair of Revox that went round and round and in my mind, Cinzia was dressed as a geisha with shoulder pads and teased hair, listening to this record while making uramaki, wondering: "What the hell kind of record did he give me?".
The b-side is an ambient reinterpretation of Pachelbel's Canon in D Major, often used at weddings (every now and then I offer the discreet alternative to the usual poorly-played organ, but they all tell me I'm the antichrist). The album was released by Obscure Records, a label created by Eno, and I recommend you go read the titles: each more beautiful than the last.

I should tell the story of Brian immobilized in bed, and in the end, these are things you might already know and can find in other texts. In the end, it is... in essence.
Discreet Music, in its structure, might remind you of Satie's Gnossiennes. Another masterpiece of the genre is Music for Airports with Wyatt brushing those keys and bless them all. Ah, when they tell you it's new age music, strike with little discretion.

Anyway, if this record with the discreet dedication was found in a bin for 15 euros, between Beyond the Wall by Barbarossa and a house compilation, it seems that between Cinzia and the eighties guy, things didn't go according to the most rosy and discreet predictions. Obviously, for discretion, I preferred to leave it there.