Daryl Hall
Sacred Songs

Syncretism.

Literally, it’s “a Cretan union,” and the term was coined in the early 1st century AD to describe those seemingly bizarre assortments that aimed at achieving common goals. Throughout history, many such alliances have arisen in war, in economics, in politics (read: Berlusconi, Bossi), and of course, in art. Regarding this, there is the pair Daryl Hall/Robert Fripp. The former with one foot in the blues and the other in soul, the latter a commanding leader of one of the most avant-garde and innovative formations in progressive history: King Crimson.

The fact was, Fripp was preparing a trilogy, on which he was working not only as a producer but more or less directly in its realization. The trilogy was comprised of his "Exposure," released in 1979, Peter Gabriel's second solo album released in 1978, and this "Sacred Songs," which was supposed to be released in 1977 but was deemed "decidedly non-commercial" by RCA and wasn't released until 1980. The trilogy was intended to represent what Fripp considered music for the "masses" and to break into the charts and radio, as part of the M.O.R. (Middle Of the Road) trend. None of the three albums, of course, achieved the expected success, marking a failure of the idea, but a determined success in more cultured environments.

Both characters, as can be read in the notes of the CD reissue booklet signed by Fripp himself, brought along their baggage, made not only of musical experience and history but also of musicians. Fripp and his band were coming off Bowie’s "Heroes" sessions in Berlin, and Hall from those with Oates (his historical mate) and the entire former support band of Elton John. One can certainly imagine the thunder and lightning of Philadelphia during that recording period. Nevertheless, the clarity, expressiveness, strength, and elegance of every single gesture can be read in every second of every track, whether Hall expresses himself in biting pop rock or when Fripp sets the "Frippertronics" in motion and his more totalitarian conception of music. The four-handed writing managed to give the work a unique form and substance.

Tracks like the tense and scathing "Something In 4/4 Time" contemptuous of all the record labels demanding easy and accessible songs, the sinuous and intriguing "Babs and Babs", the romantic and reflective "Why Was It So Easy", the fantastic vocal exercise of "Without Tears" on the one side, and the convulsive pursuit of "NYCNY", the ample and free "Urban Landscape" and "The Farther Away I Am" on the other, surrounded by other fragments of pop-rock-soul-progressive and experimentation, make this album a timeless and genuinely unrivaled masterpiece, between Hall’s melodious and precise vocality and the frenzied and wicked guitar intrusions of Fripp, perfectly summarized in the explosive and at times psychedelic acid blues "Survive", a true representational object of soul-prog syncretism.

At the end of it all, Fripp declared he had never worked with such a talented and professional singer, and we believe him.

This album has a huge merit that goes far beyond its intrinsic beauty and its enormous direct musicality: it could be a bridge between two genres that apparently have nothing in common, demonstrating—if there was a need—how Music (this time with a capital letter) isn't a language but THE language. The syncretism mentioned at the beginning is the start, it's the original idea, and the product is the demonstration that perhaps unlikely encounters can generate indisputable Art. And for this, music serves.

Sioulette.