Come back soon to hear tracks from the new complete Listen Now album
Go here to buy the new Listen Now album with 3 bonus tracks
Ian Birch,
Melody Maker, October 29th 1977
"NEVER forget, that Revenger and Reporter begin with the same letter." So announces Lemmy Caution in Alphaville, one of the most stunning fantasy films ever made. Caution, an American detective, is sent to Alphaville, city of the future, to destroy its heartless computer-controlled civilisation. It's a place where "inhabitants have become slaves of electronic probabilities, tranquilisers come with very hotel room and the eternal present reign." The movie is a amazingly elegant combination of documentary, modern myth and pop art.
Now I'm not claiming that 'Listen Now' tries to vinylise Alphaville (the ever fashionable compass point of Orwells 1984 is probably more appropriate) but it does have a similar effect. Beautifully refined, intricate and deceptively distanced with a unified concept (to use a now debased word in its best sense) underlying the whole. Don't turn off because you've not so far encountered terms like "aggressive" or "raw" or "high energy" or "buzzsaw": "Listen Now" is a superb album, and its subtleties emerge with every listen.
The cover artwork bears this out. Based on an idea by Ian MacCormick, who co-wrote three of the songs with Manzanera, it depicts a stylised inner-city nightmare of the future - or is it present?. In the foreground, one dehumanised figure is whispers behind a cupped hand to an incredulous second. To their left another couple, shadowing, the first, act similarly. All four are corralled by chain links and a New York-like skyline.
The music just makes the implications even more unnerving, Manzanera has recruited Bill (also bassist/vocalist) and Ian MacCormick to supply the lyrics and the brothers explore the idea of - dare I say - the Totalitarian State. "City Of Light" subtitled "42nd Street Blues", describes urban collapse, the stage immediately prior to an Alphaville situation. "Blinds are drawn cross windows facing nowhere / In the day the darkness is complete / Close your eyes and try to cry away your nightmares / You just know the downtown city street / Where darkness reigns". Curfew is just a shot away.
The media is ruthlessly supervised for the sake of "Law And Order". A face on the TV falsely assures that everything is all right. "It's easy to take what you are told." The title track goes beyond depicting the callous repression and, in almost biblical imagery, admonishes: "Is it any wonder you've got no power / When your pay a thief to keep it for you?/ Is it a surprise that your wine is sour / When you let a liar choose the brew he ours you?". In the face of such manipulation, personal loves and beliefs become a wilderness of confusion. "That Falling, Feeling" (a great name for a song) starts: "Yesterday you knew what to say / To keep them sweet / But just one fall and it's all you can do / To keep your feet". The tale of Suzie and Johnny in "Flight 19" - (which I, to my shame, slagged-off as a single - sackcloth and ashes for a week) charts the anguish that misunderstanding entails.
By now you probably think I'm a contender for Pseud's Corner or just plain mad. All I can do is refer you to the 12-incher in question. Ah yes, the music. For once the cast list of session luminaries works democratically and with total conviction. It's impossible not to draw a parallel with 10cc in their early vintage period; in fact, Gizmo pioneers Lol Creme and Kevin Godley appear on several cuts, and nowhere is their influence stronger than on "Flight 19", with those high-pitched harmonies. Manzanera has yoked the finely wrought song structures of 10cc to both his own understated style and the type of saw-toothed menace he added, for instance, to Roxy Music at their best, the reactivated Quiet Sun project, and John Cale on the epic "Slow Dazzle". The parts never gel. They weave in and out of a main theme with consummate brooding ease.
"City Of Light' opens on a staccato piano reminiscent of "A Day In The Life" (remember the Beatles?) to be joined by Bill MacCormick's heartbeat bass-line and Simon Ainley's vocals, which sound like a sandpapered version of Eno's. Their meticulous smoothness reinforces the chill, just as much as Manzanera's harsh and splintered chords. "Listen Now" builds gradually but purposively around another sturdy foundation (MacCormick's bass and Dave Mattacks' drums) with some surprising twists and turns. The harmonies ebb and flow, while Mel Collins overdubs "saxes and big band". As well as the six bona fide songs, there are three instrumentals written solely by Manzanera. "Island" is a beautifully sensual piece evoking every cyborg's daydream of a palm tree haven 'Que?', on the other hand, is a quick fire burst of white heat, while "Initial Speed" makes amphetamine seem like a depressant. Manzanera's guitars snap against Monkman's sprung coiled synthesiser.
A final request: don't let this one slip by unnoticed.
Here's looking at you Winston Smith
Phil Pulls A Creepy One
Angus MacKinnon,
NME, 24th September 1977
We may paranoid but that doesn't mean they're not out to get us. The cover of "Listen Now" pictures two furtive exchanges of news and views. The four faces are grotesquely airbrushed, in bruise blue and vein purple; chain links angle across the scene as sky scrapers lean out of a drab sky. Roll on 1984 and the regiments of Thought Police. Philip Castle's artwork mirrors the Orwellian tenor of "Listen Now" all too well.
Of course, former Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera commissioned song lyrics from the likes of Eno, John Wetton and Robert Wyatt for 'Diamond Head', his first solo album, but these weren't thematically unified. Here bassist Bill MacCormick and his brother Ian have supplied six sets of words; their preoccupations are closely linked with the cover theme. To wit, "Listen Now" ("Talk on the wire about force and choice / It's uncomfortable to raise your voice") and "Law and Order" (It's easy to take what you are told / They said we need law and order") consider media manipulation and the strong state as actual/imminent. "City of Light" ("Blinds are drawn across windows facing nowhere / In the day, the darkness is complete") sets a scene of inner city scarescaping,; "Flight 19", "Postcard Love" and "That Falling Feeling" describe the concomitant breakdown of personal relationships.
I'm not reading too much into it am I, chaps? No, I don't think so. But you get the drift, and a bleak, apprehensive one it is too. Apprehensive? Unsettled, unsettling? On reflection, that quality's not new to Manzanera's output. I'm thinking of the harshly ferrous edge to his work with John Cale ("Gun" and "Heartbreak Hotel") and Nico ("The End") - to say nothing of the barely screened hysteria of some of "Mainstream", the belated offering by Quiet Sun, his pre-Roxy concern. As it is, "Listen Now" provides a more explicit framework for these aspects of Manzanera's musicianship.
And despite the fact that Manzanera is obsessively attentive to detail in the studio, that the album was recorded at intervals over some eighteen months and that it involves 15 or more players "Listen Now" is - almost surprisingly - a coherent composite. It would be pointless to reiterate every initiative taken by Manzanera and 801 on this showing. Nonetheless "Sheet Music - to my mind, the apogee of 10cc's achievement - serves as a useful point of comparison. "Listen Now" shares a similar outward urge.
"Flight 19" is sophisticated rock craftsmanship of the highest order. Savour its structure (verse, chorus, middle eight, solo, repeat) and adventurous use of same. Although for the most part typically reticent, Manzanera fronts three instrumentals, "Island" (as in refuge and sense of calm) reveals his catholic tastes; it's "Diamond Head" rephrased, a heady turn of melody interspersed with vaguely Hawaiian lead parts. "Que?" is a terse funnel of serrated sound and "Initial Speed" exactly what its title implies: a spiral synthesiser motif alternating with Manzanera on guitars, various.
Songwise, "Listen Now", and "Law And Order" open and close side one, both pieces sidestepping around a rhythm reminiscent of Andy Mackay's "Love Is The Drug" but with twice the snazz thanks to Bill MacCormick and drummer Dave Mattacks. "Listen Now" bridges unexpectedly through a Mel Collins. sax solo into a military big band coda - sound for thought. "City of Light" treats Simon Ainley's vocals (Eno and Robert Wyatt crossed) over brutal staccato piano; the ominous atmospherics are reinforced by Manzanera's chilling chord fractures. I haven't been this intimidated by studio sound since Can's "Tago Mago". "Postcard Love" and "That Falling Feeling" round off; a pair of wryly arranged but profoundly depressing ballads: the, er, human catchment.
Just for the book, among those contributing to "Listen Now" are Brian Eno, Eddie Jobson, Francis Monkman and Split Enz Eddie Rayner (keyboards), Simon Phillips (drums), Kevin Godley (voices) and Lol Creme (Gizmo). "Listen Now" bears out its conceptual premise.
George Orwell's legacy has already inspired some remarkable music in Hugh Hopper's "1984" and Bowie's "Diamond Dogs". Here's more of the same.
Mainstream avant-garde turns pop/MoR
...And critic retires confused
Jon Savage,
Sounds, October 15th 1977
Listen NOW ****
I DON'T know what I expected but I thought it would be good (I mean credentials: Roxy Music/ Eno/'Diamond Head'/Tomorrow Never Knows'/Nico/etc.) but this wasn't it... It would be very easy to write this album off as hip MoR. Whatever that means. Actually it's a very good pop album. Aaaaah, fragmentation! Paradoxically, the number of categories restricts you even more within them... This album doesn't fall outside them but cuts through enough to make the idea look silly. I suppose I'm trying to say that there are hidden strengths here which aren't immediately apparent and which take time to seep through. Like water dripping, or subtle muzak encroachment...
So what we have here is 'Love Is The Drug' Roxy/'Diamond Head' style music, or music with enough of both in them to make it recognisable, mixed with other elements (disco bass/CSNY-Beatles harmonies/ritzy 'total package' cover, i.e. down to the label centre) to make it an attractive product. In fact, at times the album reeks of Beatles through 10cc - it's no accident that Kevin Godley and Lol Creme appear - tempered with Manzanera quirkiness.
Well so far it sounds like a mainstream avantgarde turns pop/MoR eventually style move, but wait... Look at the lyrics. Without exception/redemption, the songs are bitter, down. Communication breakdown/big city paranoia/Big Brother/synthetic media distance moving to total Isolation... 'Is it any wonder when you've got no power/When you pay a thief to keep if from you?'.. 'And though they say that home is where the heart is/They don't know that this damned city's heart is dead...' Or: 'Saw your face on TV/You said it's alright have no fear/I'm here/Panic's ended/Your rights defended/From those who tried to tell you /About the other side of life...' sung oh so sweet, lilting.
Ooooh, how do yon match the two? Do you need to? Like reggae maybe: analogous heavy message in sweet medium, except little kickback: Bearing in mind its creators considerable pedigree, it wouldn't be too much to surmise that the record is fighting fire with fire: using the established commercial medium to get over message, mirroring bland synthetic control with cool, production distanced music... with taped airport ambience (ersatz synthetic through synthetic...). Mmmhmm.
Now: care is needed here because I'm not habituated to this stuff recently: but this doesn't inspire me like 'Diamond Head' did. That seemed an album of joyous risks, like the riotous punning of 'Miss Shapiro' - this is, after all, 801 and is more calculating, consistent, and cold-blooded. Objectively, this album is too excellent not to be rewarded starwise, but personally... A lack of vitality, a certain coldness at the centre worries me. What they want, I don't know... money? Cultural subversion? But some parts I really do like. What the hell: fire usually gets assimilated by fire and I have to feeling this'll happen here. But listen: it's fine... (retreats in confusion...).
Tim Lott, Record Mirror, 22nd October 1977
Listen Now ****
AN INTERESTING bastard. Not Manzanera, 801. At the head, Manzanera with his borderline rock-jazz guitar. Avant-garde supremo, Eno. The kitsch bizarre Tim Finn of Split Enz and the hyperpop, Lol Creme and Kevin Godley. Drummer from the folk wave Dave Mattacks. The list goes on... on Eddie Jobson, Mel Collins, Francis Monkman; the result is, in a sense, inevitable, an unavoidable fusion of elemental, far-removed styles.
So you expect it to be fragmented, directionless, ego-tripping. You're wrong. It's a smart merger, the commercial formula of popjazz, highly technical but melodic instrumentals over perfect Crosby, Stills and Nash-brand harmonies. Unlike the '801 Live' album there are no long, difficult improvisations, no heavyweight techno wizard indigestibles. Only pop crafting and simple economy. There's a lot more accent on the lyrics than you might expect and though they ain't exactly sheer poetry, they're not embarrassing, which is unusual coming from a band who are primarily musicians. The main pitfall avoided, it's not too clever-clever, it's 'accessible'.
Listen now and you're going to like it without thinking.
Vivid time leap by Manzanera
Nottingham Evening Post, 25th November 1977
THE all-pervading thinkspeak dictatorship of George Orwell's 1984 has inspired many a rock musician over the years from Hugh Hopper's explicit "1984" to David Bowie's more oblique "Diamond Dogs" venture. Phil Manzanera's nightmare "Listen Now" (Polydor) makes the same time-jump to paint a more perceptively chilling and creepily vivid portrait than most before him, thanks to the underplayed power of the lyrics, dreamily hypnotic vocal delivery of Simon Ainley and the clean limbed dynamism of Manzanera's arrangement coupled with his own stylish guitar playing.
The bruisy-faced, whispering paranoiacs on the cover, trapped between heavy chains and the austere intimidating city sky-scape, pitch the mood perfectly for the ex-Roxy Music guitarist and the explorations of 801. "City of Light" subtitled "42nd Street Blues" indicates the horrors of no escaping into the dark anonymous corners - the oppressive swirl-echo vocals, deep-jabbing piano and menacing guitar riffs leaving you two feet tall. But "Flight 19" is a wellcrafted piece of quality rock with the same vivacity as 10cc's seminal "Sheet Music" set. In fact, Kevin Godley turns up here on chorus lines and Lol Creme cranks up the lush effects of their gizmo gadgetry.
The opener "Listen Now" steals a stealthy hook and sets the uncomfortable tenor of claustrophobic futurism while Mel Collins injects incursive sax and big band effects. "Law and Order," about media-manipulation, is wrapped around a similarly purposeful Bill MacCormick-Dave Mattacks bass-drums assemblage. And two black-lined ballads of ghostly despair "Postcard Love" and "That Falling Feeling" come between you and wipe-out, but only just. The set also includes three instrumentals: "Island" with Manzanera's guitars set in relaxed counterpoint to Brian Eno's synth pastelwash; "Que" a jazzy tunnel of energy and "Initial Speed" a synth cascade by Francis Monkman brushed against the guitarist's response and Collins' soprano sax slide.
Less gregarious than "Diamond Head" it carries a sting in the tail. As Big Brother would tell Winston Smith: cut out the thoughtcrime and "Listen Now."
Tune in to Phil's new sound
Prescot and Huyton Reporter, 11th November 1977
SOPHISTICATED rock craftsmanship of the highest class - that's the latest album from former Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera and his band 801. Title LISTEN NOW (Island); it sees Phil and his impressive crew treading a distinctly Orwellian path in almost every sense. This excursion into "1984" comprises nine tracks, all but three featuring vocals from Manzanera's co-writers Bill and Ian McCormick backed by a fluid line-up of other musicians. The album also provides the first showcase for Lol Creme and Kevin Godley's fabled Gizmo, the amazing gadget which bows instead of plucks a guitar, outside their ambitious new "Consequence" triple-set.
"Listen Now" kicks-off with its title track, which gets the listener right into the apprehensive, unsettling atmosphere of the LP. The track is haunting and whispery, Simon Ainley's lead vocal rasping out the depressingly sinister lyrics ("Everywhere the sheep creeping to the slaughter / Cold weather coming people feel the fire / Living on Dead End Street ,with no desire"). Then comes the fine single "Flight 19" with a classical construction and adventurous use by Manzanera of guitars. Eno throws in a few treatments here and there, and the Gizmo apparently pops its head up, though I've no idea where.
A note calmness is struck by "Island". It's a fine instrumental with contributions from Simon Phillips (drums), Bill (bass), Eddie Jobson (Fender piano). Eno (synthesiser) and, of course, the man himself on guitars. "Law and Order" closes the side complete with a catchy "Love is the Drug" style rhythm. It also continues deathly theme with lines like: "Curfew starts now / Get off the streets and bolt the door."
The other side begins with "Que?" another Manzanera instrumental, closely followed by 'City of Light". A perfectly produced slice of sheer studio intimidation the track stands as a highlight of the set. The man's icy guitar javelins boost the whole thing superbly. "Initial Speed" follows, and the instrumental beauty chatters along, weaving in and out of a synthesiser whirlwind with a fetching saxophone line from Mel Collins. Ballads "Postcard Love" and "That Falling Feeling" round things off with more depression and doom.
And the George Orwell legacy which inspired works like Bowie's "Diamond Dogs" has struck once more. This kind of thing is not all that new to Phil Manzanera though, as his work with Nico, John Cale and his pre-Roxy outfit "Quiet Sun" proves. But, after witnessing and savouring the magnificence of the recent "801 Live" album, I must admit I was surprised by the contents and overall theme and concept of "Listen Now" though by no means disappointed. It's a creepy one, but I think you'll like it! Rating: 8½
Manchester Evening News, 18th October 1977
ONCE poll winning guitarist with ROXY Music, Phil Manzanera is back on the album scene with the second LP from the band The 801. The band plays Manchester University on November 2. In some respects it's a disappointing disc after what was a great debut disc. The music has strayed into being MOR rock but for all that it is admittedly catchy and melodic for night adventures. Title of the LP is Listen Now. The single is Flight 19.
Chris West, Western Mail, 27th October 1977
More immediately accessible is a collection from ex-Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera. A series of tracks recorded over an 18-month period, which accounts for the ups and downs. Listen Now (Polydor 2302 074) sneaks up stealthily and insinuates itself coyly into one's memory bank, to be hummed at random moments. Echoes of Roxy, naturally, but that's no bad thing.
Penny Valentine Time Out, 18th November 1977
Phil Manzanera/801: 'Listen Now' (Polydor).
Hip Easy Listening doesn't have to be a derogatory term, as Manzanera proves with this latest delivery by a re-assembled 801. Two years in the making, while the ex-Roxy guitarist flitted between other projects, 'Listen Now' is an amalgam of influences from 10cc to Weather Report. The music has an immediacy and impact rare in such loose-knit combines and although you find yourself singing 'Flight 19' in the bath and the whole album takes on a cosy familiarity after a few plays, this is not necessarily a problem.
What is? The extraordinary discrepancy between intent and result. While the Manzanera/McCormick lyrics reflect the album cover's paranoia and angst, they become subservient to a music dedicated to shifting the mood in the opposite direction. The result detracts from the hardly original but well crafted nightmares of urban alienation and despair, leaving a pleasant but ultimately confusing set. (Penny Valentine).
Pshawn Cassidy, Trouser Press, January 1978
PHIL MANZANERA / 801 Listen Now Polydor 2302 074
Bryan Ferry looks like a chameleon and Phil Manzanera acts like one. Perhaps that's why they still get along. Diamond Head, Phil's first solo album (released over two years ago), was a warm and charming patchwork of contributions from Eno, John Wetton and Bill MacCormick; aurally disparate but all first-rate material. 801 Live was sort of an Odd Ditties Phil/Eno style. And now, I suppose due to the unspoken-but-apparently-so end of Roxy Music, he has put together a real band and graced us with Listen Now, an obsessively Enoid, cold concept album - the pragmatic cynic's guide to today and tomorrow.
The primary musicians are Manzanera on guitar, vocalist Simon Ainley, lyricist Bill MacCormick on bass, and drummer Simon Phillips. Appearances are also made by Mel Collins, Lol Creme, Eno, Tim Finn, Kevin Godley, Eddie Jobson, Billy Livsey, Ian MacCormick, Dave Mattacks, Francis Monkman, Eddie Raynor and John White.
As a whole, the magnificently packaged Listen Now is a baffling record; philosophically it leaves much to be desired and musically is rather standoffish. Yet I keep listening to it over and over again and suspect I will shortly become addicted. The opening title cut is a tremendous pastiche with a "Wall Street Shuffle" back-beat provided by Godley and Mattacks, the ambience of Diamond Head's "Alma," a big-band break courtesy of Mel Collins, and chanting refrain' of "now listen, now now listen" identical to the "shop steward" chorus in Manzanera/Eno's "Miss Shapiro."
"Flight 19" (the single), which I had written off as bland pop, sounds much better in the context of the LP but is still primarily a vehicle for Ainley's creepy cloned Eno voice. "Island" is a beautiful instrumental reminiscent of Another Green World, with darkly lyrical guitar and bass interweavings. "Law and Order," while a nice song, verbally is painfully cliched, sort of a "Dragnet" cast reunion in 1984.
"Que?," a brief instrumental, opens the second side and segues into "City of Light," which begins by strangely but successfully pairing the percussion of Eno's "Sombre Reptiles" and the middle break in "A Day in the Life." "Initial Speed," a weak instrumental, reveals the Godley/Creme gizmo; in this case truth is surely better than consequences. "Postcard Love" is a beautiful bittersweet song of unrequited love: "You bared your heart/She trumped it every time." "That Falling Feeling" closes the album with some fine guitar and a perfect description of the mental state of Manzanera/MacCormick et al. on Listen Now. I hope they cheer up.
Western Evening Mail, October 1977
Phil Manzanera - 801 - Listen Now (Polydor):
The front cover reveals austere, imposing, faceless skyscrapers embracing bleak-shot heavens. In the dank shadows lie a couple of dazed yet defiant packages of humanity. The scene is completed by an indestructible chain running through the images, while the couple's hunted faces twist up out of the corner. An alarming document, a sort of visual account of the totalitarianism conceived in Orwell's 1984.
Actually no such affiliations are mentioned either on the sleeve or during the album. But that's the kind of mood it pursues. I hesitate to say "concept" but I suggest that it's featured here in its best and most effective form. Through his solo ventures Diamond Head and 801 Live, Manzanera has followed a challenging course. The music has been mainly striking and vigorous and is in many respects as contemporary as much of the material currently being produced by David Bowie. But while Bowie is apparently prepared to operate in a series of bleak and often disturbing scenarios, Manzanera's 801 seems to strike a more optimistic note amid a string of striking and intricately constructed musical collages. The depressing theme implied by the cover is pursued by the magnificent title track. Its fierce chords gradually eroding the attractive opening themes. "City of Light", placing greater accent on its lyrical content is no less disturbing.
As a whole "Listen Now" is an ambitious attempt by linking these themes to achieve what many would say is impossible. Through its sheer effrontery not to mention outstanding material and musicianship, it's one of the outstanding works of the year. It defies categorisation and for that reason should be investigated by one and all.
Mike Mills, What's On in London, 4th November 1977
Phil Manzanera, 801: Listen Now (Polydor 2302 074).
Guitarist with the now dormant Roxy Music, Manzanera has always dazzled with his individual and inventive playing. Coming to Roxy from his own Quiet Sun group he reformed the band for the album Mainstream and has always kept his hand in with adventurous work outside the hit-making ensemble and made the notable solo set Diamond head.
With 801, already acclaimed for their live album in 1976 (with different personnel) Phil has produced what must be his best work to date. This album is a classic, instant and appealing, yet rewarding to repeated careful listening. The line-up of musicians varies from track to track, and there are guest appearances by Lol Creme and Kevin Godley (with Gizmo) among many others. Three tracks are instrumentals: 'Initial Speed', 'Island' and 'Que?' are splendid, but the main strength of the album for me is the surprising success of the songs as songs. They are beautifully constructed with strong lyrics which generally escape pretentiousness.
Phil Manzanera. your time is now.
Phil Manzanera and 801 soar
One of the last and best psychedelic bands in the world
Michael Bloom, Rolling Stone
Listen Now Phil Manzanera/801 Polydor 801 Live Phil Manzaneray/801 Polydor
PHIL MANZANERA IS one of the world's last psychedelic guitarists. His electric hippie asides spiced Bryan Ferry's romantic histrionics in Roxy Music, while his practicality often anchored Brian Eno's ballooning aesthetics. Now, with his own floating 801 entourage, Manzanera has created one of the last - and best - psychedelic bands in the world.
Manzanera as bandleader is a sensitive collaborator, sort of a Frank Zappa with humility. Deciding from the start that 801 was to be a communal project, he found players whose contributions would complement his own and who could expand to fill any available space. He's organized his maverick musicians into a smoking performance unit in much the same way that his cohort, Eno, juggles quixotic hooks and phrases into delectable pop songs.
That Manzanera has chosen splendid players helps, of course - drummer Simon Phillips (Jack Bruce), bassist Bill MacCormick (Matching Mole), pianist Francis Monkman (Curved Air), harmonists Lol Creme and Kevin Godley ( 10cc) and the unfathomable Eno - but most of 801's firepower stems from his own concise direction.
The first record, 801 Live, surfaced in England almost two years ago, as if by accident. 801 was then an ad hoc group Manzanera and Eno formed in order to play a few concerts together. This set, recorded at their third and final show, may well be the most vital live album of the decade. There are no egotistical displays or star wars - even Manzanera's longest solo is a whirlwind two-dozen bars in the intro to "Miss Shapiro." Instead, he teases the performers through momentous changes and tricky offbeats, uniting everyone by ordeal. The band emerges not only tight but spontaneous, and the ensemble texture is rich and explosive, like the finest from the Sixties groups.
Listen Now, a studio LP recorded last year, deals less with group fiber and more with subtler sonic alchemy. Texture is still of paramount importance, but Manzanera achieves it here by carefully manipulating a smorgasbord of sound effects (again with Eno as his lieutenant) into a dark, moody canvas reminiscent of Pink Floyd. Lyrics which might otherwise have seemed simple-minded instead provide a bitter paranoiac focus. A few reminders of virtuosity, like "Initial Speed," brighten the doomy landscape and round out the record. Throughout, Phil Manzanera proves he's got a singular and profound understanding of rock dynamics. Now all he has to do is gather a permanent touring band and take the world by storm.
