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A) The Blue Fairy always forgets to wear underwear under her skirt when she leaves the house.
B) My sister gives it away like Bordeaux mixture on vines.
C) There was a time when Peter Gabriel released an album of new material on average every two years.
Only one of these statements is true, and there seems to be no doubt that it is the second one. Actually, my sister is a fictional character just like the Blue Fairy, so by elimination, the most incredible statement, the third one, turns out to be true.
Those who listen to Gabriel know well that his pace has long been "leeeeggermente" slower, and they suffer for it. And things have not improved lately. After the release of "Up," I remember reading somewhere some of his considerations that already then sounded to me like famous last words, something like: "I wrote a lot of music for the album, much of it remained in the drawer, meaning that "Up" will soon have a little brother."...indeed.
Below you will find some of my personal impressions of the second album released in that fortunate period, the album inexplicably titled "2," and so another duplicate will further fatten the belly of this site. Patience, forgive me! Or don’t, and then may all the wine in your cellar spoil, leaving you only with the fizzy Bonarda that your better half loves, but you can’t even stomach with a plunger.
Well.
I was talking about "2." In the opinions I've read here and elsewhere, there always emerges a reason why it can't be considered at the level of the next two albums, and most of the time it's due to Gabriel's lack of clarity of ideas that you feel when listening to the album.
I confess to having a soft spot for this neither fish nor flesh Gabriel. This album has a sound that's very particular to me, a particularity that I can't attribute to anything specific.
There are no sounds extracted by going around junkyards smashing old CRT television screens or blowing into rusty pipes, there isn't the superbattery of the third album. There is something, however, several ingredients, perhaps a bit of melancholy, perhaps something else, I’m not even sure myself, that makes it feel so particular to me.
My first listen to "2" dates back several years, but I still clearly have present the sensations it gave me. Its purchase was very troubled, it took several months in which I mulled over it many times, on one hand, there was the disappointment for the singles of "Us" just released then, terrible (in my opinion), on the other hand, I was attracted by the fantastic Hipgnosis studio cover, and I knew that I had never gone wrong trusting that an album with a nice cover contained good music. In the end, I bought it, and that day I brought home a good deal of expectations too.
These last ones had a short life, the guitar riff of "On the Air" took care of sweeping them all away in one fell swoop and putting me instantly on the pristine path of the unknown. Probably, I didn't expect from him such a "call a spade a spade, call wine wine" rock.
It must be said that when Gabriel puts his mind to going mad, he succeeds very well. His masterful proof in the matter is available to all fans of madness: Peter Gabriel 3, but even in this honest work, you can find some proofs of high school. "On the Air" is one of these.
Hearing him in the guise of one of his thousand alter egos shouting at kids raised on steaks, warning them that he has the power and that he is proud to be loud, is priceless. For everything else, you can turn to the bank counters of Tonino, with Michelino and Pippo acting as tellers.
During the first listen of the album, many other things pleasantly surprised me: the piano scale that intersperses the verses of do-it-yourself, the keyboard riff, the melody, and the evocative vocal interpretation of "White Shadow," the wacky "Wonderful Day In A One-Way World": "there is no respect for superman in a supermarket", what a world! Then the bass and the again disturbed Gabriel of Exposure, the beauty of "Flotsam And Jetsam," which the author provided as an example to a journalist to show it wasn't true he didn't write love songs, and the splendid "Indigo" and "Home Sweet Home." That particularity in the sound I mentioned earlier, I also feel it in the tracks I like less ("Animal Magic" and "Perspective"), so I always listen to the whole album with pleasure.
In my opinion, it represents together with "3" and "4" the best of solo Gabriel.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
01 On The Air (05:30)
Built in the belly of junk by the river my cabin stands
Made from the trash I dug out 'the heap, with my own fair hands
Every night, I'm back at the shack and I'm sure no one is there
I'm putting the aerial up, so I can go out on the air
On the air
On the air
On the air
Every morning I'm out at dawn with the dwarfs and the tramp
For a silent communion lit from above by the sodium lamps
Everyone I meet on the street acts as if I wasn't there
But they're all going to know who I am 'cos I can go out on the air
On the air
On the air
On the air
Leaving the car down leafy lane
Turning out Tarzan for my Jungle Jane
anyone at all
From Captain Zero and his brand of superhero
standing by a call
Oh it's not easy
No it's not easy
Making real friends
Don't give me your steak-reared milkboys, milkboys
Half alive on empty white noise, white noise
I got power, I'm proud to be loud; my signal goes out clear
I want everybody to know that Mozo is here
On the air
On the air
On the air
02 Perspective (03:23)
I need perspective 'cos I'm facing the wall
I need perspective 'cos I'm not that tall
I need perspective heard the trumpet call
Don't trust my eyes want to know where things fall
I need perspective party time for the newly wed
I need perspective colours ran as the images bled
I need perspective like confetti on the flower bed
Don't trust my eyes priest crying he's got fire in his head
Oh Gaia, if that's your name
treat you like dirt, but I don't want to blame
Oh Gaia, the wind heats the fire and blows the ash away
I need perspective sitting in a long long hall
I need perspective staring at the white white wall
I need perspective waiting for the phone to call
Don't trust my eyes there's one thing I've got to tell you all
I need perspective to see through red red skies
I need perspective to carry merchandise
I need perspective I don't trust my eyes
Don't trust my eyes and I don't like surprise
Oh Gaia, etc
I used to be industrial giant
sitting in a garden full of chemical plant
trying very hard to get you off my mind
acting like any man
taking you for everything I can
just the same, the same as all my kind
-- so blind
I need perspective
04 D.I.Y. (02:37)
D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y.
Don't tell me what I will do, 'cos I won't
Don't tell me to believe in you, 'cos I don't
Be on your guard, bitter, hostile and hard
Don't risk affection
Like flesh to the bone in the no-go zone
You're still looking for the resurrection
Come up to me with your "What did you say?"
and I'll tell you straight in the eye
Hey!
D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y.
Do it yourself
Everyone want to be what he not, what he not
Nobody happy with what he got, what he got
You function like a dummy with a new ventriloquist
Can you say you're not being yourself?
Hanging like a thriller on the final twist
Is it true you're getting stuck on the shelf?
Come up to me with your "What did you say?"
and I'll tell you straight in the eye
Hey!
D.I.Y. (do it yourself)
D.I.Y. (do it yourself)
D.I.Y. (do it yourself)
D.I.Y. (do it yourself)
When things get so big, I don't trust them at all
You want some control -- you've got to keep it small
Hey!
D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y.
D.I.Y. D.I.Y. D.I.Y.
05 Mother Of Violence (03:10)
Walking the street with her naked feet
So full of rhythm but I can't find the beat
Snapping her heels clicking her toes
Everybody knows just where she goes
Fear, fear -- she's the mother of violence
making me tense to watch the way she breed
Fear, she's the mother of violence
you know self-defense is all you need
it's getting hard to breathe
It's getting so hard to believe
to believe in anything at all
Mouth all dry eyes blood shot
data stored in microdot
Kicking the cloud with my moccasin shoes
T.V. dinner, T.V. news
Fear, fear -- she's the mother of violence
don't make any sense to watch the way she breed
Fear, she's the mother of violence
making me tense to watch the way she feed
The only way you know she's there
Is the subtle flavour in the air
Getting hard to breathe
hard to believe in anything at all
but fear
07 White Shadow (05:14)
Ten coaches roll into the dust
Chrome windows turned to rust
'Hand on inside they know they must
Hanging on the green backed words "In God we trust"
No one knew if the spirit died
All wrapped to go like Kentucky Fried
Tring to read the flight of birds
Low on fuel, getting low on words
and she comes out like a white shadow
she comes out like a white shadow
Each one drawn to empty spaces
Outsiders, borderline cases
It's hard to tell black from white
When you wake up in the middle of the night
Weighed down by the absence of sound
Broken now by the cry of a hound
Looking for movement withing the haze
Light can be deceptive with her rays
and she comes out like a white sadow
and she comes out like a white shadow
she comes out like a white shadow
10 Exposure (04:12)
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Space is what I need it's what I feed on
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Exposure
Out in the open
Exposure
11 Flotsam And Jetsam (02:17)
Doing nothing, stuck in the mud, just pumping the blood.
The water level's getting low, something ugly's going to show.
If only I could touch you, I guess you'd be alarmed.
If only I could touch you, I don't mean you no harm.
If only I could touch you, like the wind can touch the sail,
If only I could touch you, darling, now that words have failed.
Oh, flotsam still afloat,
Oh, jetsam thrown out of the boat.
Oh love, my love, nothing here is what it seems.
We both know it; Christ, you show it...
Oh, oh my love.
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Other reviews
By Roby86
One of the most underrated works of the former Genesis leader.
A brilliant piece where voice and saxophone duet wonderfully, giving the whole a truly moving atmosphere.
