Visage
Visage

A somewhat underrated album that has always remained under a veil of "underground" and mystery, "Visage," the debut album of the eponymous group, embodies the essence of the English new romantic movement that in 1980 (the year of its release) was reaching its peak not only in cultured musical circles but also (incredibly) in dance halls, dethroning disco music with its irresistible decadence and modernity—a genre guilty of being merely a rotten remnant of the '70s, dead and buried for eternity. German electronics from Kraftwerk had already been reimagined and "anglicized" by Bowie and Eno right in Berlin, technology was advancing by leaps and bounds, the history of rock was at a new turning point and a new period of experimentation. The stage was set: Ultravox, Japan, Roxy Music, OMD, and Joy Division were already at work. The deeds of new romanticism are narrated not only from a sound perspective but also from a visual one, and in this lies its entire beauty and modernity that only people like Oscar Wilde managed to foresee so far in advance. The visual aspect, which was previously a simple and pure appearance, was elevated to the status of substance; rather, the form was even elevated to the levels of substance, and the packaging began to be valued almost as much as the content. All of this was the genesis and ruin of the '80s but also a massive revolution that was affecting every media field, especially music.

The story of Visage begins in a London club, "Blitz," where the city's new romantic scene was concentrated. Dyed hair, extravagant hairstyles, very particular clothes, class, European elegance, decadence, aestheticism, and dandyism were the main characteristics of a place where it seemed at the same time you were going back a century and were more advanced than everyone else. The owner was an eccentric named Steve Strange. A man who one day recruited a group of musicians (including some of his illustrious clients, the singer and keyboardist of Ultravox, respectively Midge Ure and Billy Currie) to form a music group that would immortalize the new romantic scene of Blitz on vinyl. What emerged was an album with strong connotations and certainly a milestone of new wave. From the decadent cover to the last track, the album retains a deliberately experimental, aesthetic, dandy spirit to the nth degree, nostalgic and avant-garde. The journey into transgression and ambiguity begins with the four-on-the-floor beat of "Visage," the operatic opening, which ranges between hypnotic beats, a penetrating bass line, distorted guitars, and synthetic wails. The rhythm continues with "Blocks on Blocks," featuring Ure and Strange's voices in all their class and coldness, used almost like hammers, surrounded by even more pronounced vocoder and synths. In the instrumental "The Dancer," electronics replace acoustics, although a sax surprisingly emerges from the layered synths. Synthetic strings complete a track that aims to be a lively jazz, contributing to recreating that artifice which is the essence of the dandy and the Blitz clientele. The swinging rhythm that actually exists only in a flow of electrons continues in the even faster "Tar," the first single with vaguely carefree hues that actually prepares for the most significant bang of the album (and most successful single), which will remain in music history. It will be sampled and remixed thousands of times, rightly elevating it to the emblem of a generation of elegant young people suspended between two eras and global new romanticism. "Fade to Grey" is indeed this and much more. From that synthetic fog, electronic percussion rises, then from the impenetrable mist suddenly emerges an infernal, gloomy, black-and-white harmony, and a voice rises from the city's fumes, to whisper "We fade to grey." The second side of the record does not fail to amaze. It starts with "Malpaso Man," which is perhaps slightly below the average qualitative level of the album, but despite this, remains quite high. Those dissonant and distorted harmonies nonetheless manage to fascinate and maintain the atmosphere. Then a slap hits you right in the face, reminding you that the dream is not at all over: introduced by the sound of a music box and tubular bells comes the sublime "Mind of a Toy," adorned with all the elegance and opulence that Strange and company seemed capable of imagining. And so, nocturnal and fascinating like the moon, that childish melody flows that strikes the heart and imprisons it in its narcotic and hallucinogenic smoke. The fairy tale ends with the last notes of a music box. Suddenly you find yourself amid the military and tight rhythms (complete with Russian choruses) of Moscow's night in the instrumental "Moon over Moscow." The last sung track is also a play on words, "Visa-age," as if to underline the arrival of an era (a spot-on prediction) where money would mean much, like the image. The closure of the dream and the night of transgression and sin is entrusted to "The Steps," as dark and mysterious as only the streets of Victorian London could be at night.

This is undoubtedly a record with the right qualities that a classy person seeks and should not miss. It's 40 minutes that are worth spending to experience that European charm in a tie, top hat, and walking cane that fascinates so many. Perhaps on an armchair with a cup of hot tea in hand.