Peter Gabriel 9: Us

While fans were accustomed to Peter Gabriel’s slow release pace and interest in world music, they were clamoring for the true follow-up to So. With Us, chock full of songs built on hooks, they got it.

He’d written about relationships before, of course, but what made this album so different was that each of the songs (well, nine of them, anyway) overtly dealt with topics like communication, desire and sex. He was in a crossroads; having finally divorced from his wife, he had also found himself in the tabloids when he was seen in the company of the fetching Rosanna Arquette.

The opening fanfare of “Come Talk To Me” sounds like bagpipes, with galloping drums accompanying a plea, a demand for attention, it’s hard to ignore him. Things turn down though, first for the straightforward “Love To Be Loved”, then for “Blood Of Eden”, which musically sounds akin to “Don’t Give Up”, only this time the voice of hope is provided by Sinead O’Connor. The horn-heavy “Sledgehammer” sound returns on “Steam”, and while it’s not explicitly about the physical act, there’s a horniness to it. “Only Us” uses a variety of conflicting meters to disguise the song’s true rhythm, but it doesn’t really settle in.

“Washing Of The Water” is lyrically and musically reminiscent of spirituals, and its feel certainly conveys the desire to be cleansed, to start anew. (Indeed, some of it sounds influenced by “Bread And Wine”, the closing track on Passion.) The mood is truly jarred by “Digging In The Dirt”. Here the emotions touched on via therapy are exposed to the raw, culminating in the sinister “don’t talk back” sections before the choruses. “Fourteen Black Paintings” begins as another throwback to the Passion album, with its tense ambience and use of Mideastern instruments, but its simple lyrics rather recall “We Do What We’re Told”. But to revive the attention of anyone who left the room to get popcorn, “Kiss That Frog” provides an uptempo come-on, with all the hallmarks of vintage soul, and little subtlety in the lyrics. But he saves the best for last. “Secret World” gears up steadily on an almost machine-like beat, and brings in a vocal that’s tired, resigned yet proud of the state of his relationship. It’s not clear whether the people in the song are going to stay together or separate, but that’s what makes it universal. Chills arrive at the whispered “shh—listen” near the end.

Us is a heavier listen than So, but the overall strength endures and reveals itself over time, just as the composer revealed himself in the songs. While Daniel Lanois (again) helped bring Peter’s ideas into the ‘90s, older fans likely enjoyed the touches that reminded them of the Peter Gabriel of a decade before.

Peter Gabriel Us (1992)—3½

Peter Gabriel 6: So

What with his old band suddenly becoming mainstream pop icons—helped along by their ubiquitous drummer—it was both odd yet fitting to find Peter Gabriel competing for pole position at the top of the very same charts. It helped, of course, that So was very accessible; while still chock full of unusual subject matter, its sound was very radio-friendly, thanks in part to co-producer Daniel Lanois. (The handsome cover shot was also a big departure from his previous portraits.)

Production is a big part of the stunning “Red Rain”. While it sports such a big sound, the band still consists of guitar, bass, drums and piano (plus the vocal, once described as a cross between Bruce Springsteen and Elmer Fudd). The song maintains its tension, breaking the ceiling in the brief section before the last chorus, and taking it down to its bare bones gradually to the very end. To call “Sledgehammer” an antidote to the tension is an understatement; this horn-driven ode to pleasure easily made the album a hit, helped by the video. Kate Bush returns for a duet on “Don’t Give Up”, a song pointedly about a man struggling under an economic situation but easily embraced as a universal pick-me-up. “That Voice Again” juxtaposes two musical sections for a rather straightforward song about relationships.

It was the first song on side two, however, that soon became one of the biggest romantic touchstones of the decade. “In Your Eyes” still works as a love song for the ages and for any age, and would be transformed in live performances (boombox not imperative). The spooky “Mercy Street” becomes even more mysterious and unsettling the more one learns about its inspiration, the troubled poet Anne Sexton. Luckily, the hilarious pomposity of “Big Time” brings some daylight back to the proceedings, helped along by yet another amazing video. But “We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37)” revives another disturbing subject, that of the danger of obeying authority. Less clear is what the coda (“One doubt/One voice/One war/One truth/One dream”) has to do with it.

The LP ends there, but the increasing number of consumers who bought the album on cassette or compact disc got an extra in “This Is The Picture (Excellent Birds)”, a collaboration with performance artist Laurie Anderson. But if you buy the CD today, there’s been a further change: “In Your Eyes” has been moved to the end of the program, after “This Is The Picture”, making for a much different finale.

Whatever the “real” track order, the ubiquity of the songs on So hasn’t diluted their quality since they first appeared. Lots of fans discovered Peter Gabriel via this album, and likely dug deeper into his catalog for more. From an economic as well as an artistic standpoint, he couldn’t ask for a better return.

Decades later it’s still his most popular album, and nostalgists cultivated a full wish list for its inevitable commemoration. As he was never one to adhere to calendars, it was only fitting that the 25th anniversary repackaging of So arrived 26 years after its initial release. A three-disc version added a 1987 concert from Athens, while the so-called Immersion Box also added a DVD of that concert, the album on vinyl, a 12-inch disc of three outtakes and, most intriguing of all to people like us, a CD called So DNA that traces each track from initial cassette demo through later incarnations. None of the packages contain any contemporary B-sides or remixes. (In a fascinating exchange with the excellent Super Deluxe Edition website, Peter explained some of his reasoning behind what was and wasn’t included. That site’s review of the DNA disc is essential reading.)

Peter Gabriel So (1986)—3½
25th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1986, plus 16 extra tracks (Immersion Box adds another 10 tracks, 2 DVDs, LP, 12")

Peter Gabriel 5: Birdy

A hidden gem in his pantheon, Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack for the Alan Parker film Birdy is at the same time one of his least known projects and one of his most satisfying. The movie wasn’t a huge hit, and since Peter’s own snail’s pace work ethic meant that it wasn’t released until well after the film had left theaters, the album has gone largely unnoticed.

The argument could be made that since it consists of what its artist acknowledges as “recycled music with no lyrics”, it’s nothing more than a remix album. But that does it a disservice. True, most of the music originates from various songs from his last two studio albums, but for the most part, various textures are extracted to deliver a completely new atmosphere, resulting in a different effect. The track titles state the most obvious origins, but it’s still fun to pick out some of the more obscure sources.

“Birdy’s Flight” is used to great effect in the film, using a remix of the latter half of “Not One Of Us” for a wonderfully energetic accompaniment. Likewise, “Under Lock And Key” uses themes from “Wallflower”, itself a song about imprisonment, to illustrate the plight of the key character, both in the present and in flashbacks.

Even without seeing the film itself (which brings still another perspective to this music) it’s possible to be transformed to another place by just the music and titles. “At Night”, “Quiet And Alone” and “Slow Water” are ambient yet melodic tracks that show how easily Daniel Lanois was able to go from working with Brian Eno to assisting with this album. “Dressing The Wound” appears to be a non-recycled composition, its gentle piano setting up some trademark wordless vocals. Even “Slow Marimbas” would go on to be a feature in live performances down the road.

Due to its non-rock nature, Birdy is not for the casual listener, but fans of his oeuvre will enjoy it, partially as a stepping stone to his next project, and also as a precursor to his next work on a soundtrack. It’s a wonderful album for contemplation, particularly at night.

Peter Gabriel Birdy: Music From The Film (1985)—4

Daniel Lanois 5: Belladonna

Going on two decades after he’d become, if not a household name, a name that most people might recognize if they looked at some of the CDs in their collection, Daniel Lanois still dabbled in albums of his own music, but good luck knowing what to expect with each.

Belladonna was described in its initial press release as the natural culmination of his work with Brian Eno in the ‘80s and ‘90s, which is a stretch. Outside of occasional wordless vocals, it’s entirely instrumental, but doesn’t have the electronic coldness and distance of Eno’s ambient work. Rather, Lanois works in combos, usually around a standard rhythm section, then treating the sounds afterwards to capture the mood. There’s still distance, but it’s more evocative of a southwestern landscape in North America—or more specifically, Mexico. A dusty scene, if you will, and Eno’s never been dusty.

It’s his album, so he can describe it any way he likes, but different ears react in different ways. For something simply gorgeous, go to “Telco” and “Flametop Green”. If you’re looking for Eno-type sounds, try “Oaxaca” or “Todos Santos”. “The Deadly Nightshade” has treated guitars that remind us of Cluster, and “Desert Rose” manages to recall “Silver Morning” from the Apollo project, thanks to the similar pedal steel. While not always screaming through the mix, that particular instrument is a main element of many of the songs here. To hear what he can do with an instrument most associated with straight country and certain Neil Young albums, cue up “Carla” or “Panorama”. He even pulls in Calexico mariachi on “Agave”.

As he’d begun to do, the credits on Belladonna are slim, with main co-conspirators Brian Blade and Daryl Johnson listed in bold, and a few other familiar folks added on, like pianist Brad Mehldau, Malcolm Burn, and Bill Dillon. The album was certainly compiled over time, rather than in concentrated sessions, but it holds together as a mood, either at night or while driving for miles on abandoned highways. They’re mostly brief sketches, averaging two to three minutes, but worthy of immersion.

Daniel Lanois Belladonna (2005)—3

Daniel Lanois 4: Rockets

Once he got back into his own music, Daniel Lanois started playing shows, and got more active with his website. That also provided him the opportunity to distribute music that might not have got the same support from a label.

The thinking behind Rockets was to have “a sort of renegade CD available at the merchandise stand.” Seeing as it consists mostly of alternate and/or live versions of songs from his small catalog, that’s a good description. It also provides a good sampler of the albums that aren’t Acadie, though we do get another version of “The Maker”, and a surgically altered mix of “Under A Stormy Sky” that becomes a collaboration with Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris.

But they’re not all retreads. The title track is described as (spoiler alert) “a revisit of the murder scene in the movie Sling Blade,” and shows how well he creates tension. “Sweet Soul Honey” is apparently very important to him, as he would go on to include the lyrics in his memoir; it would be more effective as the instrumental as intended. He further describes “Panorama” to be “as close as I’ve come to Samuel Barber,” but don’t expect any Adagio For Strings; this is all pedal steel guitar over thunderous drums.

Rockets is not a grand statement, nor was it meant to be. It is a worthy addition to his space on the shelf, and can be got nice and cheap from his own website.

Daniel Lanois Rockets (2004)—3

U2 16: No Line On The Horizon

Outside of two new songs on 2006’s U218 Singles compilation—one of which was a collaboration with Green Day, neither of which were very exciting—it was another five-year wait to the next U2 album. In the meantime there was the usual talk about how they’d finally got their old sound back, despite being more experimental. When it finally emerged, there were enough echoes of their early albums on No Line On The Horizon to make it sound like, well, U2.

The title track explodes with a heavy beat and Mideastern touches, under Bono’s yell. “Magnificent” manages to cross the classic sound with the Achtung Baby era for a decent single. Despite all the accolades for its “universal” lyrical content, “Moment Of Surrender” simply takes too long to achieve the chorus. Much more effective, and working on the same theme, but still too long, “Unknown Caller” nicely works in response vocals like the better parts of Zooropa; the extremely familiar Edge guitar sound helps too, and there’s a surprising appearance by a French horn. “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” is a dumb pop song written for arena shows, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it could’ve been bigger and dumber. Also, the title arrives too soon in the lyrics.

By the same token, the lead single, “Get On Your Boots”, fills the same role as “Vertigo” did on the previous album, a catchy stomper designed to grab, and it does. They get almost funky on “Stand Up Comedy”, but complicate it with several changes that reduce it to not much. We get just a hint of experimentation on the moody intro of “Fez—Being Born”, which should have been chopped; the main part of the song succeeds by concentrating less on lyrics and more on sound. “White As Snow” takes its melody from a Christmas carol for an effective meditation on a soldier’s death. The mood is jarred by the hip rap speak in “Breathe”, another wise decent rocker, before going quiet yet again on “Cedars Of Lebanon”, another reflection on war.

U2 come in like a lion and go out like a lamb on No Line On The Horizon, making for a slightly underwhelming listen. For the first time, Brian Eno and Daniel (listed as “Danny”) Lanois are credited here and there for writing music and/or lyrics instead of being limited only to production and performance; Steve Lillywhite is on hand again for a few songs as well. Admittedly, our hopes were higher, but we can’t condemn them yet. The band also insisted that they had another album’s worth of material they’d be putting out almost immediately, which unsurprisingly did not happen. Instead, they toured and toured, and toured some more.

U2 No Line On The Horizon (2009)—3

U2 15: How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb

U2 got themselves a big hit by going back to the basics, so their next album was built from the same approach. And once again, while How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb played it safe, perhaps they played it a little too safe.

“Vertigo” was the best choice for both album opener and single, with a driving beat and a count-in that translates as “some, two, three, fourteen.” (The closing vocal does remind us of Paul Shaffer, however.) The sweeter “Miracle Drug” builds to a big chorus featuring the same drum patterns that drove “Beautiful Day”. Another tug at the heartstrings comes with “Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own”, written for Bono’s dad’s funeral. This one also starts deceptively quietly, but really builds to its chorus. “Love And Peace Or Else” is a bombastic yet hollow threat, but “City Of Blinding Lights” nicely brings back some of their mid-‘80s vibe via Edge’s matching piano and guitar parts.

“All Because Of You” is another attempt at a big anthem with big Who chords, but you have to get past that percussive effect at the beginning that sounds like Fred Flintstone running across his living room. The mostly acoustic “A Man And A Woman” brings to mind the lesser half of the last album, and the lyrics are just plain wimpy. “Crumbs From Your Table” is a little better, a good arrangement masking a dark subject. The mildly atmospheric “One Step Closer” discusses death again, but it’s not clear what “Original Of The Species” is about, except three or so musical ideas shackled together. “Yahweh” is an imperfect prayer that would be more effective if Bono hadn’t come up with a better chorus than the title; besides, he’s written enough psalms already. Yet with that, the album simply stops.

How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb has its moments, and it’s not “bad” in the slightest, but again, the ingredients weren’t adding up to something great. After decades of writing anthems it seems they feel every song has to be one. Somehow no fewer than six—six!—producers were credited on the album, from the stalwart Steve Lillywhite, Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois, and Flood to newer entrants (for them) Chris Thomas and Jacknife Lee. Maybe they didn’t want to leave any era untapped?

The album, of course, was a huge hit, no doubt helped by the subsequent tour. Coinciding with its release, the boys partnered with Apple Computers to market their own branded iPod, preloaded with a “digital box set” called The Complete U2. As the title would suggest, it included each of their albums, as well as every single, B-side, bonus track and EP. Of course, that meant that some songs got repeated across several singles, album tracks and hits collections, and any other rare tracks yet to be unveiled would be missing. But what made it especially enticing were the true rarities: a disc each of Early Demos and Unreleased & Rare tracks, a CD’s worth of selections from a 1997 concert in Mexico City dubbed Hasta La Vista Baby!, and two complete concerts. Live From The Point Depot was the band’s last appearance before they regrouped to record Achtung Baby, while Live From Boston 1981 was a fantastic club show that fueled some early B-sides and deserves to be available on its own.

Oddly, when it came time for the album’s 20th anniversary, not all of the Atomic Bomb outtakes included in The Complete U2 were included in the deluxe edition. Instead, along with one disc of remixes and two discs dedicated to the audio from the Vertigo 2005 – Live From Chicago DVD, the non-U.S. extra track “Fast Cars” was stuck at the end of the album, and a disc titled How To Re-Assemble An Atomic Bomb presented what they called a “shadow album” of outtakes. It’s actually a mostly decent set of tunes, and too bad that it’s only available in the pricey box. “Picture Of You” was previously known as “Xanax And Wine” (hence the “X+W” subtitle) and is a more rocking version of what would become “Fast Cars”. “Evidence Of Life” has a wonderfully trashy riff and echoes of their earliest albums, but the real gem is “Luckiest Man In The World”, once known as “Mercy” when it was performed live and released on an EP. “Treason” is a collaboration with Dave Stewart of Eurythmics, with some hip-hop elements and a choir from Ghana. “I Don’t Want To See You Smile” was previously known by the last word in its title, and an improvement. “Country Mile” has a classic Edge guitar sound and an anthemic arrangement that was probably too close to “Beautiful Day” to be included on the original album. “Happiness” can’t decide if it wants to be punk or dance, though it does include more mentions of the omnipresent atomic bomb. “Are You Gonna Wait Forever” was a “Vertigo” B-side, while “Theme From The Batman” was Edge’s contribution for that animated television show. “All Because Of You 2” is merely an alternate version of the album track. Hindsight being everything, some of these would have been more welcome on the original album than what did make it.

U2 How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb (2004)—3
2024 20th Anniversary Edition: same as 2004, plus 45 extra tracks

Neil Young 43: Le Noise

Recorded live in a big room, mistakes and all, Le Noise gets its title from producer and fellow native Canadian Daniel Lanois—a man whose production style is a matter of taste for people, so that much of the album’s success or lack thereof is dictated by their opinion of him.

This is about as “solo” as a Neil album can be, for it consists only of his voice and guitar, subsequently run through a variety of effects. There are no drums or bass; any rhythm comes solely from his Gretsch or whatever loops have been dictated in the mixing process.

“Walk With Me” sets the tone, musically and lyrically, his slashing modal D chords providing the base for a plea or a dare. “Sign Of Love” comes from the same mold, something of a musical sequel to “Cinnamon Girl”, with an equally mysterious object of affection. The mood slows a bit for “Someone’s Gonna Rescue You” without being redundant, but a true departure comes in “Love And War”, a pretty straightforward statement of purpose as he’s ever done, performed on an acoustic.

One of the more challenging tracks is “Angry World”, starting with its sampled vocal snippet that brings to mind “One Of Our Submarines” by Thomas Dolby. The performance is incredibly rough, and a little dissonant—even for Neil—but it soon wins over. “Hitchhiker” provides another piece of autobiography, a daring litany of his past drug use, set to a melody previously heard in “Like An Inca” on Trans. An acknowledgement of his family and lost friends underscores how many of his peers and collaborators he’s survived. The acoustic returns for “Peaceful Valley Boulevard”, the track most typical of the Lanois sound, with a mysterious mythology to match. A cross between ecological concerns and personal improvement is the theme behind the oddly effective “Rumblin’”.

Like many Lanois projects, the album seems to be best suited for listening on cold, dark nights, or maybe accompanied by the full moon under which Neil tends to record. (The sessions were also filmed, giving an intimate glimpse into the creation of each track. Unfortunately, the occasional glimpse of Neil at a piano or his pump organ only has us wondering how many outtakes are in his growing vault.) Le Noise is not the easiest listen, but like most of his darker material, it is ultimately rewarding, and we can be happy that this old man is still in touch with his personal muse.

Neil Young Le Noise (2010)—4

U2 13: All That You Can’t Leave Behind

After a decade of dance experiments, All That You Can’t Leave Behind was hailed upon release for being something of a return to U2’s straight rock sound. That should have been a good thing for longtime fans tired of sifting through remixes in search of a decent song. But while the album definitely sounded like the U2 of old, unfortunately it sounds a little too much like the U2 of old.

The boys are still masters of track sequencing, starting off with “Beautiful Day”, an okay single that somehow got swept up into post-9/11 patriotism. Dangling preposition aside, “Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of” is up there with their best, something of a “Don’t Give Up” for the new millennium. “Elevation” is a fun one, even though the delivery of the words (“a MOLE/digging in a HOLE”) reminds us of an old Bloom County strip we’ll link to as soon as we can find it online. “Walk On” and “Kite” reach for that big stadium sound, the former another statement of support, and the latter an acknowledgement of the passage of time.

They’ve often frontloaded their albums, and the rest of this one pretty much plummets from here. “In A Little While” takes a Hendrixian riff, the type Pearl Jam would use, and stretches it into little more than a demo. “Wild Honey” is another departure, a mostly acoustic duet for Bono and The Edge until it builds into something bigger. “Peace On Earth” might have made it as a Christmas song—there’s even a tree icon next to the song in the booklet—but the lyrics are too pointedly connected to a genocide to be a radio staple. Similarly, “When I Look At The World” is just too sappy, though it is catchy. “New York” should have been left to Lou Reed, while “Grace”, the quiet finale, sounds more like a Daniel Lanois track (after all, he coproduced the album with Brian Eno) than U2 proper. (Depending on the country, “The Ground Beneath Her Feet”, a collaboration with Daniel Lanois and Salman Rushdie for a movie soundtrack, was included as a bonus track; here in the U.S., the less-than-riveting B-side “Summer Rain” was included on its own disc in a “special edition”.)

Even if the boys were “normal” again, there’s still plenty of posing in everything that comes out of Bono’s mouth. His voice sounds weary on most of the tracks, and the lyrics just aren’t there. Maybe they were tired of trying to turn the music world on its ear. They certainly can’t be blamed for that. All That You Can’t Leave Behind fills the prescription just fine, and was rewarded with steady sales, sellout shows, multiple Grammy® awards, and raves from fans. But in the end, the album is just plain ordinary, and that’s something we never expected to say about U2.

The speed with which the new century flew by was rammed home two decades later with the release of three 20th anniversary editions. “The Ground Beneath Her Feet” was added to the main disc as the standard closer, completely throwing off the original mood; the Deluxe Edition added a disc of audio selections from their Elevation 2001: Live From Boston DVD; the Super Deluxe Edition spread the entire concert across two CDs, and added one disc of B-sides and (mostly) previously released outtakes plus another of remixes. For those wishing to carry it all in a suitcase as suggested by the icon used for the artwork, the vinyl version contained all that on eleven records.

Again, the Super Deluxe Edition was the only way to get the album’s worth of leftovers, which are actually not bad on their own, particularly when prefaced by “The Ground Beneath Her Feet”. “Stateless” is a song from the same soundtrack, and “Levitate” has mild electronica touches, and that’s probably why it was, well, left behind. At the other end of the sonic spectrum, “Summer Rain” and “Flower Child” are unfinished-sounding strums, but the acoustic mix of “Stuck In A Moment” still offers power. “Always” is basically the first draft of “Beautiful Day”, so it’s still catchy but not yet anthemic, just as “Love You Like Mad” tries too hard (and yes, the guitars sound like old Who) and “Big Girls Are Best” is just plain trashy. Then there’s “Don’t Take Your Guns To Town”, recorded for a Johnny Cash tribute but sounding like a stripped-down mix of “The Playboy Mansion” from the last album. These songs aren’t quite as album-worthy as the Joshua Tree B-sides, but they’re still nice to hear.

U2 All That You Can’t Leave Behind (2000)—3
2020 20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 2000, plus 14 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 26 tracks)

Daniel Lanois 3: Shine

In the ten years between his second and third solo albums, Daniel Lanois kept doing what he did best: producing other people’s records. He achieved some acclaim working with Emmylou Harris and Willie Nelson, and even shared a Grammy for Bob Dylan’s Time Out Of Mind. He also produced the soundtrack to Sling Blade, where his own compositions and selections of covers worked very well both on the screen and in your CD player.

Shine was distributed by the Anti label, then riding high as the new home for Tom Waits. Whatever sales they hoped to get from Lanois are unknown; thematically sits somewhere between his first two albums. The best song is the first track. “I Love You” has exactly two chords, and includes harmonies from Emmylou over a typically swampy sound. Bono shows up on “Falling At Your Feet”, which was likely the focus cut. “As Tears Roll By” gets its rhythm from an old Charley Patton record, and builds sonically on that.

Many of the tracks are instrumental, giving him a chance to show off his proficiency at the pedal steel guitar, pointedly outside of a country & western frame. As with most instrumentals, some provide soothing atmosphere, while others, such as the highly Eno-like “Matador”, suggest doom and gloom.

Shine doesn’t stand out so much as exist, and that’s fine. For all his occasional steps into the spotlight, Daniel Lanois is simply not a frontman. His voice doesn’t need to be as up in the mix as it is, and the hubris that kept For The Beauty Of Wynona from being great is still in evidence. But it’s always nice to hear what he’s got “cooking in the kitchen”, as his liner notes say.

Daniel Lanois Shine (2003)—3

Bob Dylan 41: Time Out Of Mind

Seven whole years had passed since the last real Dylan album. In contemporary interviews, Bob said that for the longest time he just didn’t feel like writing songs, then was suddenly able to come up with a batch while being snowed in. Then he was hesitant to play them on tour for fear of having them bootlegged, and wanted to do them justice in the studio as well. So he spent a few weeks in Miami recording with some of his then-current touring band, a few session hotshots including the stalwart Jim Keltner, and Daniel Lanois, who produced Oh Mercy, and the album was in the can.

Naturally, there was a certain amount of anticipation and absolute fear upon the announcement that something new was finally on the way; meanwhile, the news of a potentially fatal heart ailment between recording and release brought decent PR to the event. Anyway, we needn’t have worried.

Of the eleven phenomenal tracks that make up Time Out Of Mind, half are based around the 12-bar blues form. Most deal with some unnamed woman (or women) who broke Bob’s heart in a big way, and boy, is he miffed about it. The production is pretty swampy, slapping a lot of echo over his voice, which was pretty shot anyway; he doesn’t try to hit any high notes, which in the past resulted in a lot of yelling on his part.

A quiet stomp and a bleating Vox organ opens “Love Sick”, taken very slow and sounding like he’s transmitting from Mars. A little more upbeat, “Dirt Road Blues” effectively emulates an old 78 but still maintains the spooky vibe. The album’s first masterpiece is “Standing In The Doorway”, another slow, slow song with wonderful imagery, each verse more heartbreaking than the last. “Million Miles” continues the blues theme, his voice a perfect match for the words, and we start to hear some of the dad jokes that will begin to pepper his lyrics (“gonna find me a janitor to sweep me off my feet”). “Tryin’ To Get To Heaven” provides a nice break in the form of a major key and a memorable melody that belies the fatalistic words; there’s even a harmonica solo. “‘Til I Fell In Love With You” doesn’t take hold as easily, but there’s some incredible imagery here. “Not Dark Yet” could be taken as another rumination on his own mortality, played in a style that links well to the better songs on Oh Mercy.

That’s practically a full album right there, but we’ve got a ways to go. The trip to hell continues on the downright scary “Cold Irons Bound”—that’s meant as praise, by the way—with the atmosphere dominated by Augie Myers on the Vox organ, to which the extra-gentle “Make You Feel My Love” provides welcome calm. While beaten to the charts in versions by both Billy Joel and Garth Brooks, this one, with Bob up front on piano, is still the template. “Can’t Wait” is another blues taken at a funereal pace, but keep an ear out for a killer two-line bridge. That’s a mere setup for the fascinating 17-minute journey of “Highlands”, which closes the album. The first few verses could be a song on their own, but he throws in a shout-out to Neil Young, then ends up in a restaurant sparring with a waitress over art and literature. (And really, how could it be that any eatery “ain’t got any” hard boiled eggs?) The final set of verses could qualify as a separate song too.

We knew he could do it again, and we’re glad he did. Basically, he waited until he had something to say, then said it. It went on to win a few Grammys, and even staunch Dylan haters were overheard saying it’s not that bad an album. Time Out Of Mind heralded a new era for a man who insisted he hadn’t gone away in the slightest. He’d had an actual near-death experience, and he was still out there—just a simple song and dance man.

While some of the outtakes were featured on the eighth Bootleg Series volume, the album eventually got its own installment in the series, kinda sorta in honor of its 25th anniversary. One disc of Fragments was devoted to a new mix of the album that stripped away some of the sonics Lanois took credit for to bring out more of the room, while another offered outtakes and alternates, starting with a lovely take on “The Water Is Wide” and the sadly shelved “Red River Shore”. “Can’t Wait” has a more melodic guitar part and different lyrics, and the spontaneous applause at the end of “Make You Feel My Love” is just charming. There’s yet another version of “Mississippi” that comes closest to the version he’d finally nail, and other songs with more upbeat arrangements than what was released.

That was fine, but a deluxe version added three more discs. One devoted to live versions—some from actual audience tapes, as befits a “bootleg series”—presented each of the album’s songs, mostly in the original track order, with “Can’t Wait” used twice because “Dirt Road Blues” has apparently never made it to the stage and “Mississippi” included just because. Further outtakes and alternates included an intriguing but still inferior “Dreamin’ Of You”, another “Marchin’ To The City”, “‘Til I Fell In Love With You” played as a samba, and “Can’t Wait” notable for a surprising Dylan yelp before the first verse. Most controversially, a fifth disc repeated the session outtakes and two live versions already included on that earlier Bootleg Series set. This wasn’t even done covertly—it was highlighted on the sticker on the shrinkwrap. Still, they fill in the bigger picture, even with multiple takes stacked together. (Also, each disc was packed nearly to capacity, each exceeding 70 minutes.)

Bob Dylan Time Out Of Mind (1997)—5
Bob Dylan Fragments: Time Out Of Mind Sessions (1996-1997)/The Bootleg Series Vol. 17 (2023)—4

Brian Eno 11: Apollo

A project that made perfect sense on paper culminated in another exceptional ambient album. Apollo: Atmospheres & Soundtracks collects various tracks commissioned for a film about the Apollo space missions, performed by Eno with his brother Roger, plus new collaborator Daniel Lanois. As the liner notes suggest, this music is designed to accompany images of “the vastness of space” on a big screen, compared to the grainy images people had seen on their tiny television screens.

Often the music is dark and brooding, but not so unsettling as to cause discomfort. Even without the visuals, one can picture space capsules floating by, with closeup shots of the moon’s surface and our own planet seen from miles away. Some tracks, like “Matta” and the “Under Stars” variations, evoke the machinery and isolation, while more melodic pieces of beauty emerge here and there. “An Ending (Ascent)”, “Drift”, and “Always Returning” present pretty chord cycles that never quite resolve, which is fine with us. “Weightless” manages to sound like a lazy afternoon on a tropical island, while “Silver Morning” is an excellent showcase for Daniel Lanois alone on several guitars.

Apollo sits comfortably between Eno’s ambient brand and his music for films, providing a listening experience that sounds just as good in the background as it does up close. Better still, it works outside the space motif; “Deep Blue Day” was later used as a humorous counterpoint in the film Trainspotting. In a catalog that grew to be increasingly unwieldy over time, Apollo stands out as a worthy Eno purchase.

Years later, just in time for the 50th anniversary of man’s walk on the moon, Brian gathered his cohorts to create more music inspired by the project. This time, he solicited files from the other guys, dug through his own pile of recent ideas, and “treated” everything per his usual manner. The results were compiled on a disc titled For All Mankind (after the film that started it all), which was included in a remastered, expanded reissue of the Apollo album. Again, these are not outtakes or leftovers from the original sessions, so they don’t have the same flow, but the mood is there, so the album has been truly extended in a successful repackage for both old and new fans. Working with others’ ideas helps Eno from sinking into monotony, particularly since many pieces boast hints of rhythm rather than running on simple drones. Still probably not the best thing to play while driving, though.

Brian Eno with Daniel Lanois & Roger Eno Apollo: Atmospheres & Soundtracks (1983)—3½
2019 Extended Edition: same as 1983, plus 11 extra tracks

U2 8: Achtung Baby

After the self-congratulatory Rattle And Hum period, a change was necessary. So Bono started smoking in public and changed his persona from a holier-than-thou rock star to an insufferably greasy rock star. To document this change, their photographer bought a few rolls of color film. And the band hung out the newly liberated Berlin in between recording with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois to deconstruct their hitmaking sound.

Achtung Baby was a much different sound from what made them big, but the songs were undeniably catchy once they got their hooks into you. Some listeners who sampled the first few seconds of each track immediately rechristened the album Hock-Tooie Baby; most fans gave it more time than that.

From the uneasy beginning of “Zoo Station” it’s clear that things have changed. Most of the vocals come through a megaphone, and there’s a definite vibe of riding on a rattling train between stops. “Even Better Than The Real Thing” gives us a chance to dance, before “One” arrives to give us chills. This deceptively simple song may well be one of the best they’ve ever concocted. “Until The End Of The World” was already a great set of lyrics until you realized that it was supposed to be a conversation between Judas Iscariot and Jesus Christ. The energy keeps going with “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses”, which really catches fire on the bridge. Eno’s influence on “So Cruel” brings the first half to a calm end.

The hits keep on coming though: “The Fly” was and remains a striking departure, while “Mysterious Ways” still manages to sound good despite its ubiquity. “Tryin’ To Throw Your Arms Around The World” provides another respite from the neon glare, with a gentle lilt and tender lyrics. But just as with The Joshua Tree, the album reaches its peak in the middle of side two. “Ultraviolet (Light My Way)” is an absolute masterwork, starting with the mysterious intro resolving into the drums, through each building verse, up through the ending, making it something of a grand finale—so much so that the two songs after that barely register except as encores. “Acrobat” is all chaotic uncertainty, while “Love Is Blindness” plays under the credits, suggesting a not-so-happy ending. (At least in both cases the Edge gets to explore the outer limits of his creativity.)

Achtung Baby re-established the band at a time when they needed to decide whether to keep fishing or cut bait. The boys have stayed busy since then, with some great tracks scattered throughout increasingly infrequent albums and several big tours, but nothing has been as cohesive as this. It’s an album that surprised, and even with all the hit singles, still sounds good as a complete entity.

Two decades on, the band still acknowledged the album’s importance in their career, and its position as a watershed. An anniversary repackage arrived on time, but Achtung Baby wasn’t treated as simply as the previous five. In addition to a 2-CD expansion, which added select B-sides and bonus tracks, there was also a Super Deluxe Edition of six CDs. This parcel consisted of the album, the Zooropa follow-up, two—yes, two—discs of remixes because there were that many of them, one disc of B-sides and outtakes, and something called “Kindergarten”, which basically stripped down the original album and used earlier vocal takes, often with completely different lyrics. (Oh, and it has four DVDs and a thick book, too. An “Über Deluxe Edition” added the album on vinyl plus singles, souvenirs, and sunglasses.) This is all very nice, but besides fleecing the fans who would gladly shell out a couple of hundred bucks for the whole kit and caboodle, it gives short shrift to Zooropa, which really was an entirely different project, and still leaves a few timely tracks by the wayside.

When the 30th anniversary rolled around, they merely re-released the album on vinyl and colored vinyl (of course), plus a “digital box set” restricted to the album, the two remix discs, and the B-sides and outtakes portion. Our pleas to have a simple deluxe packaging along the lines of what they did with their first five studio albums—the album plus the B-sides and outtakes—go unheeded.

U2 Achtung Baby (1991)—4
2011 Deluxe Edition: same as 1991, plus 14 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 46 tracks and 4 DVDs)

U2 6: The Joshua Tree

Decades after the fact, it’s apparent this is where everything changed for U2. They’d been slowly building up to something that would make such an impact, and boy, did they. In 1987, The Joshua Tree was everywhere, much like, we’d dare to say, Sgt. Pepper had been twenty years earlier.

Also with this album, Bono gave himself license to become even more pompous and self-important, and set him and the other guys up for parody. Luckily for everyone involved, the album was—and is—pretty good. It builds on the work started with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois on The Unforgettable Fire, filling out the sound a bit and adding some American dust.

The three hits appear at the top, fading in with the galloping fanfare of “Where The Streets Have No Name”, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” conjuring images of the self-deprecating video of the boys wandering around Las Vegas, and of course, “With Or Without You”. After that, “Bullet The Blue Sky” originally seemed out of place, but it delivers an excellent contrast. Closing a very good album side is another song about heroin. “Running To Stand Still” is probably the one most people would skip, but the acoustic blues and “ha la la la de day” refrains provide something of a relief to the attack of the previous track.

“Red Hill Mining Town” starts side two, and it probably means something to a few people in Dublin, but the chorus cuts through the murk to make it something worth hearing out of whatever context it’s in. “In God’s Country” manages to keep us interested over two chords, but it’s still a little weak. At the time, “Trip Through Your Wires” seemed adventurous—Bono’s blowing a harmonica!—but in the wake of their next album and film, you can see where they started to get a little ahead of themselves. “One Tree Hill” is the Personal Statement, but they fill it with enough of their anthemic sound to make people care.

That’s pretty much where the album stops, but there are two more songs, so we have to talk about them. “Exit” is the Dark Ballad, supposedly inspired by Gary Gilmore, while “Mothers Of The Disappeared” takes it back to the commercial sound, albeit with a song about Argentinean victims. This might suggest that the parts don’t quite equal the sum. But The Joshua Tree still a good album and quite justifiably the one that made people notice.

The band kindly added excellent additional songs two at a time to each of the singles—albeit at 33⅓, making them tough to play on jukeboxes. These were all made available on the bonus disc of the 20th Anniversary Edition, alongside outtakes and working tracks. “Beautiful Ghost” had already snuck in the Complete U2 download set, while “Wave Of Sorrow (Birdland)” betrays a strong Patti Smith influence, “Desert Of Our Love” and “Rise Up” are intriguing jams, and “Drunk Chicken/America” buries another jam under an Allen Ginsberg voiceover.

Ten years later, the 30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition supplemented the album with most of a Madison Square Garden concert that spawned the “gospel” version of “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”. Recorded in the fall of 1987, after the album had taken over the world, the band had become too big for even themselves. (The so-called Super Deluxe Edition had that, along with a disc of “newly commissioned” remixes and all but one of the bonuses from the 20th Anniversary Edition, replacing a single mix with two unreleased alternate mixes.)

U2 The Joshua Tree (1987)—4
2007 20th Anniversary Edition: same as 1987, plus 14 extra tracks
2017 30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1987, plus 17 extra tracks
2017 30th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition: same as 2007, plus 25 extra tracks (and minus 1 track)

U2 5: The Unforgettable Fire

For their fourth full-length album, U2 wanted to try something different. Rather than the dependable sound Steve Lillywhite gave their previous albums, they turned to a more atmospheric sound picture. The band most likely knew Brian Eno’s production work from his collaborations with David Bowie and Talking Heads; Eno convinced them to also work with his sidekick Daniel Lanois, with whom he’d recently been exploring more “ambient” recordings.

When The Unforgettable Fire appeared, critics pounced on the murky chaos evidenced in the opening track, “A Sort Of Homecoming”. Had they waited, they could have been carried away by the chorus. They were much kinder to the first, obvious single, “Pride (In The Name Of Love”. This was what sold the album to the public, who knew a hit when they heard one. (Unfortunately, nobody told Bono that Martin Luther King was killed in the evening, and not the “early morning [of] April 4”.) “Wire” turns the Lillywhite sound inside out, from the harmonic guitar riff through the trebly funk bass to the double-time drums. The title track is a surprise, a showcase for the Edge on piano, Bono’s passionate vocal and the near-orchestral treatments, likely courtesy of Eno and Lanois. The track is one of the band’s best. The first side closes with “Promenade”, more of a musical poem than a song.

Similarly, the second side begins with a sketch, the atmospheric “4th of July” built around improvised bass and guitar. Unlike the title, it inspires visions of snowy fields at dusk. “Bad” would become another surprise for the band. Built mostly around two chords, it starts quietly and builds through two crescendos under covert lyrics about heroin addiction. “Indian Summer Sky” seems to echo “Wire” on the previous side, another insistent drum-driven sung under angry vocals. “Elvis Presley And America” also came under fire as “indulgent”; the stream-of-consciousness vocal wanders over a slowed-down early mix of “A Sort Of Homecoming”, yet still manages to hold your interest. (Though we’re still not sure what the hell it has do with Elvis Presley or America.) The album ends with the simple “MLK”, another tribute to the subject of “Pride”.

The album was a worldwide hit, and added to the band’s growing mystique in the US—so much so that some B-sides and live tracks were hurriedly issued the following summer as the Wide Awake In America EP. Driven by a powerful performance of “Bad”, it became a huge hit in the wake of Live Aid. A rearranged “A Sort Of Homecoming” brought out the strengths of that song, and the outtakes “Love Comes Tumbling” and particularly “The Three Sunrises” also got airplay. (The title was not just misleading, but false advertising; not a note was recorded in the US.)

The EP was included in full on the 25th anniversary edition of the album, alongside remixes and other B-sides of the period that further explore the collaboration with Eno and Lanois (the anachronistic extended mix of “11 O’Clock Tick Tock” notwithstanding). The band’s affection for the album is also evident by their finally completing two tracks from the sessions. “Disappearing Act” sounds more like 2009 U2 than the 1984 version, but “Yoshimi Blossom” was thankfully never updated past its original mix.

Hindsight being what it is, The Unforgettable Fire has long since escaped its tag as an indulgent experiment to be appreciated as a terrific album. And they were just getting started.

U2 The Unforgettable Fire (1984)—4½
2009 Deluxe Edition: same as 1984, plus 16 extra tracks
U2 Wide Awake In America (1985)—3

Bob Dylan 34: Oh Mercy

Wonder of wonders, and in a massive reward for long-suffering fans, a new Bob Dylan album appeared that most agreed this was more like it. Oh Mercy—the title, perhaps, a tribute to the recently departed Roy Orbison?—was produced by Daniel Lanois, fresh off his success with U2, Peter Gabriel and Robbie Robertson. His “swampy” approach to the sound complements the lyrics, which travel throughout between introspective and foreboding. The atmosphere is also perfect match for Bob’s voice, thankfully simplified and melodic without straining. The performances are simple, with a lot of emphasis on texture; he also plays a lot of piano for the first time since New Morning.

Perhaps it’s because the previous albums had been so spotty, these songs are very strong and durable. “Political World” fades in with the Lanois sound, and kicks in with a nasty vocal. There are few one-chord songs that make it, and this one does. “Where Teardrops Fall” picks up the pace a bit, with an influence of the town where it was recorded. “Everything Is Broken” takes an old Creedence riff and strangles it, underneath a near litany of things that are simply broken. “Ring Them Bells” takes the tempo down, where the album will stay. This wouldn’t have been out of place on the so-called Christian albums, and that’s meant in a good way. And whoever the “Man In The Long Black Coat” is, he’s still a pretty spooky character.

“Most Of The Time” makes good on the promise of all his recent songs of heartbreak and loneliness. “What Good Am I?” is a wonderful piece of soul-searching, followed by the sermonizing of “Disease Of Conceit”. These are very gentle songs, and truly invite the ears to listen as closely as possible. But things turn around for “What Was It You Wanted”, an incredible one-fingered salute to his fans, then “Shooting Star” delivers another great closer in the tradition of “Restless Farewell”, “Dark Eyes” and “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”.

If those descriptions seem too brief, so be it. 1989 saw a lot of established artists return to form after pissing away most of the decade. Oh Mercy nicely followed the surprise of the Wilburys, and it was reassuring to hear Bob still so capable of something truly marvelous. We could even overlook the damp shirtless photo on the back cover.

Bob Dylan Oh Mercy (1989)—5

Daniel Lanois 2: For The Beauty Of Wynona

As Acadie had been such a nice surprise, by the time Daniel Lanois’s next album came out it had earned the tag “long-awaited”. Unfortunately, the bar had been set pretty high, and those seeking a straight continuation of the debut would be disappointed.

For The Beauty Of Wynona is an okay but not altogether stellar follow-up; could be his dealer in New Orleans was lacing his supply. This time out he stuck with a small team of players and engineers, and for the most part they provide a harsh, almost sinister edge to the proceedings, symbolized by the cover shot of a nude with a knife. “Beatrice” and “The Collection of Marie Claire” are fairly unsettling, and throughout the album there’s little gentle fingerpicking, replaced mostly by heavy distorted guitars. “The Messenger” has a title that will immediately recall “The Maker”, but beyond that it’s a slow foreboding tale. “Sleeping In The Devil’s Bed” and “The Unbreakable Chain” will most likely please casual listeners, but the highlight by far is the aching centerpiece “Death Of A Train”. Here the vocal gets a slapback echo over brushed drums and an archetypical keyboard bed, and when the guitar does finally come crashing in at the end, the track explodes into light.

For The Beauty Of Wynona had an awful lot to live up to, so perhaps it’s unfair to expect so much from it. It’s worth throwing on once in a while to reconnect, but again, “Death Of A Train” makes it all worth it.

Daniel Lanois For The Beauty Of Wynona (1993)—3

Daniel Lanois 1: Acadie

Right at the end of the ‘80s, after a few years of producing the likes of U2, Peter Gabriel, Robbie Robertson, the Neville Brothers and Bob Dylan, Daniel Lanois finally put out an album under his own name. Acadie was recorded in spurts with contributions from some of the luminaries on his earlier projects, yet sports a uniform sound noticeable to fans of his production work. The final product was assembled in New Orleans, which neatly bookends the French Canadian influences of the tracks.

“Still Water” is a perfect intro, setting the tone for the rest of the album with gentle vocals, acoustic guitars, muffled drums and ethereal keyboards. “The Maker” is the closest thing to a hit here, as it has been covered by Dave Matthews, and even in a Karaoke version sung by Willie Nelson (on the Lanois-produced Teatro album; the original was also used years later over the closing credits of Sling Blade). “O Marie” and much of “Jolie Louise” are in French, but still fun to sing along with, even in between lines like “my kids are small, four and three” and “I drink the rum till I can’t see”. “Fisherman’s Daughter” is a moody tone poem, with a brief spoken verse that ends almost as abruptly as it begins, going right into the instrumental “White Mustang II”.

“Under A Stormy Sky” has a rock-Cajun combo, and we still wonder if that’s Dylan on the harmonica. Then “Where The Hawkwind Kills” comes tumbling in. (This is the one track that most people think sounds like Bono singing; to his defense, Lanois said basically that if you had Bono yelling in your headphones for a few years, you’d sound like him too.) “Silium’s Hill” is another street-person interlude before the menacing “Ice”, another U2 touchpoint. “St. Ann’s Gold” brings us close to the end with a prayerful feeling, made complete by the dramatic interpretation of “Amazing Grace” featuring the voice of Aaron Neville on Mars transposed to a minor key.

Daniel Lanois rarely makes his own albums, and like his mentor Brian Eno, just because you like one album he’s worked on doesn’t mean you’ll like them all. But chances are, if you enjoy this one, it’s worth trying just about anything else with his name on it. (He’s pretty proud of the album too, since he reissued it in 2005 with a new cover, and again in 2008 with bonus tracks at a higher price.)

Daniel Lanois Acadie (1989)—5
2008 “Goldtop Edition”: same as 1989, plus 6 extra tracks