Thomas Dolby 6: A Map Of The Floating City

When we last left Thomas Dolby, he was writing music for video games. In that period away from the record business he went even further into emerging technology, creating tools and content for interactive applications, including ringtones. So when he finally did return to the commercial marketplace in the new century, it was with an album that tied in with a online multiplayer game that we don’t think is accessible anymore. (We looked.)

A Map Of The Floating City was conceived and recorded on a restored lifeboat deposited in the back garden of his English home. While his musical technology has kept up with the times, it still sounds like a Thomas Dolby album. (Old friends like Matthew Seligman, Kevin Armstrong, and the woman who sang on “Hyperactive!” show up in the credits.) There is a loose concept to be discerned within the sections of the album, which had been released as themed online EPs in the months leading to the full release of the album, although in a different order than the tracks appear here. But anyway.

Urbanoia is the first part, and it’s an apt description. “Nothing New Under The Sun” is the bold opening statement, with clever rhymes and sardonic wit that seems to poke fun at himself, even stating “any fool can write a hit” at one point. As fresh as that track sounds, “Spice Train” is driven by the wacky synth sounds most people would associate with the guy, with lots of exotica touches that are kinda distracting from the lyrics. “Evil Twin Brother” is another travelogue, and features prominent vocals not only in Russian by Regina Spektor, but also the guy who sang the original Pokémon theme. “A Jealous Thing Called Love” has something of a bossa nova feel filtered through Bacharachian horns, redeemed by a killer chorus.

While the horns carry over onto the doomed love story in “Road To Reno”, the journey moves sideways for the Amerikana section. “The Toad Lickers” is near Cajun bluegrass, and a little too silly. But with its piano and fretless bass, “17 Hills” is a lovely turn away from some of the gimmickry we’ve heard so far, and right when the drums come in, so does Mark Knopfler, soloing tastefully over the balance of the track. Something of a Sinatra pastiche, “Love Is A Loaded Pistol” keeps us safe in the low-key if melancholy mood.

“Oceanea”—the “title track” of the last section—is even dreamier, with a simple yet haunting theme played on guitar, and even lovelier when the verses are sung by Eddi Reader. The island feel and return to bossa nova on “Simone” seems a little too much like a retread, and while “To The Lifeboats” stays too much in that mode, the loud bridge helps shake things up.

While it stumbles shortly after it starts, A Map Of The Floating City eventually finds its way through all the styles to deliver a satisfying listen. A nice surprise indeed. (Those who picked up the limited double-disc edition got instrumental mixes of the songs.)

Thomas Dolby A Map Of The Floating City (2011)—3

Thomas Dolby 5: The Gate To The Mind’s Eye

Having slowly wearied of trying to compete in the modern music industry marketplace, Thomas Dolby stayed true to his nature by following the latest in technology, which by the ‘90s had increasingly relied on computers. This meant he got gigs scoring computer-based video games, so it was an easy step to computer animation, just as it was starting to blossom. Since he was still signed to a label, The Gate To The Mind’s Eye was his soundtrack to the third in a series of computer-generated films, none of which we’ve seen and don’t plan to. (The previous soundtrack was scored by Jan Hammer, the next by Kansas founder Kerry Livgren.) As background music, it’s mostly inoffensive, but not exactly groundbreaking.

Much of it is instrumental, but there are some vocal pieces. “Armageddon” has lyrics, mostly in Latin, with operatic vocals that continue on “Planet Of Lost Souls”, which is nicest when it’s just the piano. “N.E.O.” is mostly spoken by respected (so we’re told) Italian astrophysicist Fiorella Terenzi; he’s credited with the closing “rap” but at least he’s not trying to be the most illinest B-boy. Despite beginning with a quote from one of Napoleon’s letters to Josephine, “Valley Of The Mind’s Eye” is a fairly lush love song, while “Nuvogue” is a swing jazz tune that would have fit fine on Aliens Ate My Buick. But “Quantum Mechanic” is a techno song warbled by Dr. Terenzi, who also supplied the words. These days it almost sounds like a parody.

The album didn’t do much for his record sales, but for those who weren’t interested in following his esoteric muse, earlier in the year a compilation cleverly titled Retrospectacle delivered the handful of hits and a few deep cuts. The main attraction for fans was the availability of “Urges” and “Leipzig”, which had been added to the first US version of the first album but soon dropped in favor of “She Blinded Me With Science” and “One Of Our Submarines”. Beyond that, it samples each of his first four albums for a chronological yet cohesive sampler.

Thomas Dolby The Best Of Thomas Dolby: Retrospectacle (1994)—3½
Thomas Dolby The Gate To The Mind’s Eye Soundtrack (1994)—2½

Thomas Dolby 4: Astronauts & Heretics

The ‘80s were already a distant memory by the time hair metal gave way to grunge, so where did that leave an innovator such as Thomas Dolby? Most recently he had made a cameo as the schoolmaster in Roger Waters’ all-star staging of The Wall in Berlin, which he actually pulled off. Meanwhile, on Astronauts & Heretics he continued concocting accessible, quirky pop colored by synthesizers but not dominated by them.

“I Love You Goodbye” takes us to the bayou—literally, with not only Cajun legends Michael Doucet and Wayne Toups on the track, but swampy percussion and sound effects. It’s a wonderful musical blend that unfortunately doesn’t permeate the album, but it’s a terrific way to start, and at least it doesn’t wear out its welcome. Two fairly short songs follow; “Cruel”, basically a duet with Eddi Reader, is a much softer change of pace, then Michael Doucet’s fiddle (and some of that percussion) returns to color the jaunty “Silk Pyjamas”. “I Live In A Suitcase” sounds most like his Flat Earth period, if a little more contemporary-sounding.

As long as we’re looking back, the clattery “Eastern Bloc” is pointedly designated as “Sequel To Europa And The Pirate Twins, 1981”, which is obvious in the second verse. It’s a throwback, but not a retread, particularly with Eddie Van Halen on lead guitar. Eddie also plays on “Close But No Cigar”, but we wonder how much the overt Beatle sample cost to procure. It relies a little too much on the title for the lyrical content, but it leads in well to the slightly retro “That’s Why People Fall In Love”, this one featuring harmonies from Ofra Haza. The mood turns way down for “Neon Sisters”, prefaced by a dramatic dedication, and featuring a few members of Siouxsie’s Banshees. Given the times, it’s not clear whether the subject of the song succumbed to AIDS or addiction, but it’s haunting nonetheless. We’ve had a lot of pop so far, and then “Beauty Of A Dream” provides a timeless conclusion, with the added pleasure of both Bob Weir and Jerry Garcia on the track.

The album’s bookends make Astronauts & Heretics a pleasant surprise. It’s pretty catchy, with his past wackiness completely toned down. One gets the idea that he was more concerned in making an album he wanted to make, stocked with his wish list of collaborators. He then pointedly stayed away from courting the pop charts to further explore to possibilities of music in the computer industry. Which made perfect sense.

Thomas Dolby Astronauts & Heretics (1992)—3

Thomas Dolby 3: Aliens Ate My Buick

Frustrated by his second album’s failure to extend the chart success of the first, Thomas Dolby turned to producing other people and dabbling in soundtrack work. This choice to create art over artifice made plenty of room for the likes of Howard Jones and other folks with wacky haircuts and the latest synths and sequencers. When he did get around to making another album, it was on his terms, recruiting a new band of unknowns and starting from scratch. Aliens Ate My Buick unfortunately followed its elder sibling to be received by indifference, though it deserved better.

“The Key To Her Ferrari” is a complicated sounding jazz parody featuring the distinctive narration of Robin Leach. While definitely a familiar pop culture icon when the album was first released, he was already past his fifteen minutes even then, and newer generations might not get the joke. His own narrated interlude isn’t much better. Luckily, “Airhead” is certainly catchier, though certainly misogynist, which the “explanation” in the final line doesn’t excuse. The lasciviousness continues on “Hot Sauce”, contributed by funk legend George Clinton, sporting a regular “spaghetti western guitar” and salsa interlude, as well as references to Larry Blackmon of Cameo. (Clinton previously employed Dolby on one of his own albums, before joining him, and Lene Lovich, and the Brecker Brothers, on a one-off single called “May The Cube Be With You”. Originally credited to Dolby’s Cube, it’s included here as a bonus track slash afterthought on the CD and cassette.) “Pulp Culture” skewers the L.A. scene, with a groove that would be borrowed by David Bowie in five years for “Black Tie White Noise”.

People still thought of albums in terms of sides in those days, and side two is a little more reserved. “My Brain Is Like A Sieve” is an aw-shucks kind of love song with a mild but not overt Jamaican influence. Either Laura Creamer or Rosie Stone (of Sly & The Family) sings the perfect harmony, but that is Ed Asner saying “murder” for some reason in the middle. The title of “The Ability To Swing” is certainly suggested by the tempo, but the lyrics are more abstract. It was even covered six years later by Patti Austin. In “Budapest By Blimp” we finally have a sumptuous track in line with the travelogues on The Flat Earth. At over eight minutes, with a slight Steely Dan groove and impenetrable lyrics, it’s exactly what this album needs to succeed. (So much so that skipping the bonus track is advised.)

Because his name and the very title of Aliens Ate My Buick still told potential listeners that he was just as wacky as he was on “She Blinded Me With Science”, the album didn’t deliver for those seeking such hilarity, which is their loss. Besides, the title still brings a chuckle, and the back cover is a scream.

Thomas Dolby Aliens Ate My Buick (1988)—3

Thomas Dolby 2: The Flat Earth

That pesky hit single was a double-edged sword for Thomas Dolby, as he suddenly felt pigeonholed as something of a novelty act. He was already well into the process of recording his next album, but had to cut it short due to promotional obligations, which didn’t allow him to adjust the schedule for completing it. The way he tells it, The Flat Earth suffered as a result. It certainly feels short, and at 37 minutes, it is.

Somebody else pointed out that where the first album predicted steampunk, here he’s the khaki-panted world traveler. “Dissidents” burbles in, soon joined by scratchy guitars for a pretty funky track about, well, being a dissident writer. The title track begins much the same way, but the rhythm is more subtle, with textures that would soon be equated with mainstream embrace of so-called world music. (This is a good place to call out Kevin Armstrong’s exemplary guitar work throughout the album.) Even more gorgeous is the melancholy “Screen Kiss”, a portrait of a small town girl ruined by the big time. Listen for Matthew Seligman’s wonderful bass playing, very evocative of Jaco Pastorius on Joni Mitchell’s Hejira album.

After a mysterious intro, “White City” sounds more like the last album, with another impenetrable lyric. The barely audible narration by Robyn Hitchcock as “Keith” doesn’t clear anything up, not that we’d expect it would. “Mulu The Rain Forest” suffers from an overuse of effects; the piano and vocal on their own are just plain gorgeous. His cocktail jazz arrangement of “I Scare Myself” sounds so much like him few might have realized it was originally written and recorded by Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks seventeen years before. As something of a reward to the those hoping for more comedy, “Hyperactive!” provides the closest echo of “She Blinded Me With Science”, loaded as it is with wacky voices and voiceovers, matched by a truly twisted video. Still, that’s why we can’t help but chuckle at the trombone whenever it appears, but the song sounds very out of place following what’s gone before.

Those who really paid attention to his first album won’t be too surprised with The Flat Earth. He’s definitely reaching here, looking for new sounds and making the most of available technology. Considering how labored it all its, who knows if more time would have improved it any? (The converted should certainly seek out the 2009 import remaster, which loads up the balance of the CD with off singles, a collaboration with Ryuchi Sakamoto, and soundtrack work, plus a couple of live tracks. Some but not all of these were included in the streaming 40th anniversary edition of the album, which made up the balance with more live tracks and edits for a two-hour program.)

Thomas Dolby The Flat Earth (1984)—3

Thomas Dolby 1: The Golden Age Of Wireless

Many one-hit wonders don’t deserve the appellation, since the assumption is that they never did anything else of merit. Thomas Dolby proved that to anyone who took the time to listen to his catalog, even if he can’t escape his one hit.

After a few years doing sessions, young Dolby (not his real name) managed to get financing for an indie single. “Urges” and “Leipzig” were harmless but mildly intriguing, and led to a major label deal for his first album. The Golden Age Of Wireless does depend on what were then modern synthesizers, but like Stevie Wonder and Pete Townshend before him, he had enough skill on keyboards and melodic sense to make the technological innovations more than mere gimmicks.

While “Flying North” does have a prominent drum machine, the insistent piano line and “string” arrangement would translate very well to an acoustic setting. “Commercial Breakup” adds more prominent guitars and a more danceable beat, while “Weightless” layers on the vocals before more subdued verses with that piano that Peter Gabriel used in those days. “Europa And The Pirate Twins” is wonderful synth-pop with an equally wonderful arc in the lyrics, and we like how “Windpower” builds on some of Brian Eno’s music for films for its main hook.

“Wreck Of The Fairchild” is mostly instrumental with ska touches but for some radio communications in Spanish that becomes a mere if lengthy prelude to the album’s best song. “Airwaves” has it all: nearly impenetrable lyrics, a unique bass part, a haunting melody, and a truly soaring chorus, the latter boosted by the faux-horn lines over the final choruses. (Billy Joel borrowed the verse melody for “Goodnight Saigon”.) Continuing with the theme, “Radio Silence” is more chilly music of the era, complete with cooing female vocals, and “Cloudburst At Shingle Street” provides an inscrutable yet fitting finale.

The Golden Age Of Wireless holds together very well, exceeding the sum of its parts, but was not left alone for long. The American version of the album, which followed a few months later, used a different cover for starters, and shuffled most of the tracks to accentuate the more techno aspects of the contents. It also dropped “The Wreck Of The Fairchild”, added both sides of his first single, replaced “Radio Silence” with an alternate version, and most criminally, used the single edit of “Airwaves”, which cuts out the bridge and fades too early.

Meanwhile, Dolby got a great idea for a music video, and wrote a song to go with it called “She Blinded Me With Science”. Somehow this did the trick, and this maddeningly catchy track became what most people associate with the guy to this day. The flip side was “One Of Our Submarines”, a stunning mini-symphony we thought was called “What About South Marie?” the first several times we heard it on late-night radio, and took us even longer to realize borrows the main melody from The Six Million Dollar Man for one of its many hooks. Extended versions of these two songs made up side one of the Blinded By Science EP, which was backed with longer versions of “Windpower” and “Flying North”, bookending the full “Airwaves” for a stellar half hour of music.

By this time somebody decided that the smash hit single belonged on the American album, so the extended “Science” and “Submarines” replaced the two early single tracks, and the order was shuffled yet again, with the original album cover restored but “Windpower” shortened into a third variation. Further tinkering occurred for the CD versions (note the plural), until a final sequence took hold, though some copies favored the long “Science” but the shorter “Airwaves” and “Windpower”.

That lineup would become standard worldwide, until the man himself remastered the original album with a pile of extras for release in 2009 everywhere but the US, which had to wait ten years for a less extravagant package that supplemented the first version with both sides of the early single, both sides of the hit single, and the alternate “Radio Silence”. (The 2009 version is the one now streaming, and Blinded By Science was digitally upgraded, kinda, with standard versions of the tracks supplemented by three live versions of unknown vintage just in time for its 40th anniversary.)

Thomas Dolby The Golden Age Of Wireless (1982)—3½
Thomas Dolby The Golden Age Of Wireless (US version) (1982)—3
Thomas Dolby The Golden Age Of Wireless (US version #2) (1983)—3½
2019 Echo CD: same as 1982, plus 5 extra tracks
Thomas Dolby Blinded By Science (1983)—4