Brian Eno
Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy)

THE REVIEW

This album, perhaps, even more than Before and After Science, Eno is a genius, the destructive/constructive power is something exceptional.

The record opens with "Burning Airlines Give You So Much More" and it is a breath of pure and crystalline air at 100%, after a few seconds of strumming the drums mark the martial time with a bittersweet piano in the background, all accompanied by Eno's extraordinary voice, and then the piano becomes stronger and sharply chisels the diamond that coats the music with a multitude of facets that would seem randomly made. And during all this, columns of synths (I believe this is the instrument) rise majestically and unstoppably into the invisible sky and then disappear with a quick but progressive fade effect to the hearing and sight. During the song, there are also moans coming from the sewer, but we silence anyone in the sewers by stomping on the manhole cover and resonating our joyful bursts of vitality.

And it's love at first listen.

Okay, let's move on to the second track, "Back in Judy's Jungle," I don't know if I will succeed... I'll try. A child taps the drumsticks on the drum after which Eno's voice becomes the protagonist, the drums continue incessantly like a sexual machine, and one enjoys it. The childish veil of naivety constituted by the voice and various whistles is swept away by an imposing synthesizer that initially goes against the stream but then gives in to the irresistible melody. And we see all these characters (both human and not) making up the song going away hopping arm in arm along their own path.

Third song: "The Fat Lady of Limbourg". The synthesizer intones dark, sad, and soulless bass tones, on which Eno slowly and epically declares something in English (which I do not understand, so you'll have to deal with it), the trumpets come in from the sides, Eno continues with his simple warbles interspersed by a robotic and foreign voice.

I am tired, experiencing all these emotions and describing them all at once is extremely exhausting.

Fourth track: "Mother Whale Eyeless" which so far is my least favorite. A bass plays and the notes are surrounded by little circles that spin ever upward, noises (evidently someone is being punished in the other room with whips), Eno emerges again from the door with his undulating voice and the real song starts, but it is too cheerful and predictable. The previous atmospheres resume. And again the merry tune returns, but the guitar becomes more present, then the rhythm changes and a female choir accompanied by an organ sings with violaceous voices, it almost seems that Eno has modified his voice, but I am not sure. The singer resumes with the happy music and the guitar becomes more daring, the sticks strike the drums, the cymbals, and everything fades again.

I'm scared, it's one o'clock at night, the TV is off and so it can't keep me company because the remote doesn't work anymore and the only available channel is 5, then mom told me she heard a noise on the balcony, a car screech almost gave me a heart attack and I imagine a deformed alien wolf head suddenly but slowly poking out from behind the shape of my bed's duvet. Have you ever seen John Carpenter's movie "The Thing"? If you haven't seen it, well, don't. I put my headphones back on to feel safer.

I have a crazy urge to keep talking to you about this album, but I'm exhausted.

You know... earlier I had a moment of something I don't know how to name, I wanted to do something shameful and incomprehensible. I was out of my mind and was listening to "Back in Judy's Jungle." It's such a complex thing that there is no word to describe what I felt. Every time I think about it, my mind is invaded, if only for this, the review would already be finished.

I need a doctor, something to vent on, please editors publish it for me, I'm desperate, this thing is eating me inside and psychologists don't take it seriously.

This album contains something primitively and insanely brilliant, stupid but crazy. Most of the songs are based on perverse and obsessive rhythms, at times almost schizoid and hopping. Not advised for those with heart conditions.

With this album, I am trying to exorcise my mental problem.

I wonder how Mr. Brian Eno could conceive all this without going out of his mind or severely stressed. Just listen to "Third Uncle" to realize it; I came to think it was a creation of my brain, something non-existent, that the incendiary guitar at 1:35 was impossible. And the concluding "Taking Tiger Mountain" seems like a mockery to me.

I recommend anyone who hasn't listened to it to do so.

I'm sending this "review" without rereading it, and I thank the creators of this site for giving me the opportunity to express myself.

I believe... yes, I think I'll go rest.