The artistic trajectory of Mike Oldfield certainly has some affinity with that of Arthur Rimbaud. Both precociously talented, they had two exceptional mentors who, sensing their potential, initiated them into the secrets of their art.

The way Kevin Ayers (former bassist and founding member of the Soft Machine, a reference band for the so-called "Canterbury scene" and later himself one of the key figures in the British progressive and psychedelic movement) "took care" of the teenage Mike (hired as guitarist in his solo masterpiece "Shooting at the Moon") recalls that of the poet Paul Verlaine (an "heretical" member of the "school of the Parnassians" and, over time, an absolute protagonist of French symbolism and decadentism) who, at least initially, acted as a Virgil to the young Arthur on his journey into the unknown.

The two young men learned much from their respective masters and soon developed their own very personal style. The "seer" Rimbaud reached his creative peak by soaring to the unexplored heights of the "Illuminations", while Oldfield, not yet twenty, recorded his masterpiece, "Tubular Bells".

The newly born Virgin label gave Mike the opportunity to "realize" his enlightenment: an almost entirely instrumental album composed of a single long song divided into two distinctly separate parts. Oldfield played entirely by himself the approximately 28(!) instruments that made up his opus and, thanks to meticulous studio work of track layering, "Tubular Bells" came to life.

Balancing an immense variety of musical genres (psychedelic music, progressive, ambient, folk, rock, classical music), the first part manages to explore in different directions, alluding to, intertwining, resuming, and developing melodies that would make the fortune of any film that used them as a soundtrack (as indeed was the case: the initial piano theme was that of the famous film "The Exorcist").

About two-thirds through the track, a massive guitar riff repeated in loop becomes the sonic backdrop on which the various instruments "parade" one by one, performing the same sweet melody, a textbook example of grace combined with beauty. Introduced by a master of ceremonies voice announcing their names, the last "guests" to appear are the tubular bells. Shortly after, the piece fades into an atmosphere of ecstatic contemplation.

The second part of "Tubular Bells", at least for the first third, follows a more "coherent" continuum that unfolds like a fresh and soft pastoral that in a spring morning leads us into a lush birch grove. The tension gradually rises, and the melody becomes akin to an ancient Celtic march: we are in the sacred and unexplored area of the forest. At the peak of the esoteric energy that surrounds us, a grotesque and disorienting werewolf makes its entrance, assembling its song with caveman grunts (complete with howling) and chasing us in a compelling progressive unison. Just as it is about to seize us, we magically manage to soar into the night sky, where we float along with organ sighs and pure guitar breezes. However, Oldfield was a man of effervescent humour: the finale of "Tubular Bells" is entrusted to the Popeye theme tune played on guitar in a joyful crescendo.

A pioneering and fundamental album in the history of rock, Mike Oldfield achieved the miracle of bridging various musical genres in an ever-transforming amalgam and, in doing so, managed to give a highly accessible sound and appeal to an album that, given its revolutionary nature and experimentation, risked being the purview of only "insiders".

At the beginning of the review, we talked about the convergences between the careers of Mike Oldfield and Arthur Rimbaud, but there are also discrepancies.

Accessibility is one of these: if Mike sold millions and millions of copies and immediately "broke through" even at a popular level, Arthur achieved rightful and full recognition only after his death, having been almost completely ignored by the "great" public during his life, totally unprepared for his visionary language and beyond all schemes.

Not only that, while the French poet deemed his artistic trajectory concluded at about 21 years old (going on to become a merchant in Africa), the English musician is still active (although after "Tubular Bells" and a couple of other excellent albums, his creative vein progressively faded).

Finally, I believe, but this is my very personal opinion, that Rimbaud's impact on future literature has been nonetheless greater than Oldfield's in the musical field: the French poet was, in my opinion, one of the very few artists in history to truly go "Beyond" (like Proust in prose or Kubrick in cinema).

However, Mike and Arthur both symbolize how, sometimes, to create new paths, the talent of a "virgin", courageous, reckless, receptive, and irredeemably rebellious mind is needed.

"I say that you have to be a seer, make yourself a seer. The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, immense, and reasoned derangement of all the senses" (A. Rimbaud Letter of the Seer, 1871)

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