Marco Salzano

Excellent debut by the group formed by the virtuosic violinist Darryl Way, temporarily escaping the art rock eccentricities of Curved Air, alongside jazz guitarist John Etheridge and young drummer Ian Mosley (yes, the one from Marillion). Produced by Ian McDonald, to whom the poignant adagio for violin that closes the album (McDonald's Lament) is dedicated.

Dark and murky hyperThriller by Bowie-Eno. Schizophrenic and experimental. Underrated.
"There is no hell, there is no shame. It’s today that it happens, the damage is today; now, not tomorrow, it’s happening now. The cold winter bleeds on the beams of Babel. Revolution arrives in the strangest ways. It’s the dirty lesson of the heart, the filthy lesson of the heart that strikes deaf ears. What a fantastic abyss of death. Tell the others!"

From L.A. to Berlin. In a paranoid trance state from cocaine, Bowie (now a gaunt Thin White Duke with a new unhealthy crooner voice) records (without even remembering how) one of his best albums. If the torrid Stay (featuring two monsters like Alomar and Slick) is the apotheosis of his white funk, and Wild is the Wind a tribute to Nina Simone, it's with the title track that Bowie begins to hybridize R&B with electronics, embarking on the Kraftwerkian Autobahn towards new occult sound magics.

Lodger part 2, equally inventive but, without Eno, a bit more conventional, complete with the longed-for hit single: the neotwist Ashes to Ashes, a funeral lullaby for junkie Major Tom with the hissing guitarchitecture of Chuck Hammer. It’s still the best Bowie of the ’80s, who doesn't mix with the "youngsters" of the new wave and anticipates a lot of '90s British pop (you can hear Blur’s Parklife in It’s No Game). A free hand to Fripp’s guitar to brutalize the robotic disco of Fashion.

Built thanks to Brian Eno's Planned Accidents, it’s a Fantastic Voyage from Berlin to NYC (via Istanbul) more wavering than Low and Heroes but with some obscure new wave gems, like African Night Flight (a little ethno-funk jewel), JapRock Red Sails, and the pair Look Back In Anger-DJ that flirt with disco. There’s room for Belew’s incursions (especially in Boys Keep Swingin, with the others swapping instruments) and House (Byzantine violin in the reggae Yassassin).

Now That's an Exit! Produced beautifully. Classic and experimental at the same time. Bowie had often flirted with jazz, but perhaps he had never succeeded so well. Donny McCaslin on sax is exceptional, but drummer Mark Guiliana is an absolute revelation. Favorite track: perhaps Dollar Days, a poignant old-style ballad that wouldn't be out of place on Hunky Dory.

A high-class record this debut from monsieur Dandy Sylvian, quite distant from the icy funk of Japan (only Pulling Punchies—title borrowed from the Heads—recalls it). Already post-rock scenarios, between cold soul and minimal ambient, embrace the singer’s existential reflections. An album to be appreciated for its nuances, a rhythmic hint here (Red Guitar), a melodic progression there (Weathered Wall). Notable guests: Sakamoto, Czukay, Hassel, Wheeler.