Mike Oldfield – The Songs Of Distant Earth
After an extremely acrimonious split with Virgin Records in the early 1990s, multi-instrumentalist Mike Oldfield was already venturing out of Tubular Bells territory throughout the 1980s, dabbling in pop songs (a cover of one of his tunes, “Family Man”, became a hit for Hall & Oates) and mixing music of wildly differing styles and ethnic origins. Virgin mogul Richard Branson was reportedly demanding a Tubular Bells II from Oldfield, who refused to do any such thing, and then released precisely that after switching to Warner Bros. just to give Branson the finger, but a funny thing happened while Oldfield and Branson were battling it out. Other acts started to claim for themselves the instrumental ground which Oldfield had pioneered: Enigma, to name just one example, came to prominence in the early ’90s, and by the time Oldfield got around to releasing this album – which is indeed based on the novel of the same name by the late Arthur C. Clarke – he was having to push his way through a now-crowded musical field.
Inspired by Clarke’s mention of a musical celebration at the end of “The Songs Of Distant Earth”, Oldfield added “spacey” synths and production textures to his usual structure. Despite boasting a track list which divides things up into shorter, discrete tracks, The Songs Of Distant Earth is classic Oldfield, with lengthy development of a central theme introduced early on, and the introduction and development of secondary themes coming later in the album. It may not sound like Hergest Ridge or Ommadawn, but in fact, Songs shares a very similar structure. Like those albums/pieces (in Oldfield’s case, he composes long pieces with minimal breaks, so these terms are almost interchangeable), there’s almost no interruption from one portion of the music to the next, and Oldfield’s soaring guitar work is an obvious sonic trademark. Now, as someone who climbed onto the Oldfield train by way of his early ’70s work, I’m a little disappointed to hear that his guitar takes a back seat, at times, to synths, various kinds of percussion, ethnic vocals and so on, but one can’t stick to the same formula forever. By that same token, there are spoken word samples of everything from a man counting down, to chants, to the crew of Apollo 8 reading from the book of Genesis, woven into the music; interestingly, depending on what mood I’m in, I’ve found these soundbytes either interesting and relaxing or irritating.
Songs Of Distant Earth is an interesting experiment in linking music to literature, sort of a soundtrack that bypasses the hurdle of a movie deciding what everything should look/sound like, and it signals a major reinvention on Oldfield’s part. There’s a part of me that loves his older, guitar-heavy work, and finds Songs lacking, but to a more mainstream audience this isn’t a bad place to get your first Oldfield exposure.
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- In The Beginning (1:24)
- Let There Be Light (4:57)
- Supernova (3:23)
- Magellan (4:40)
- First Landing (1:16)
- Oceania (3:19)
- Only Time Will Tell (4:26)
- Prayer For The Earth (2:09)
- Lament For Atlantis (2:43)
- The Chamber (1:48)
- Hibernaculum (3:32)
- Tubular World (3:22)
- The Shining Ones (2:59)
- Crystal Clear (5:42)
- The Sunken Forest (2:37)
- Ascension (5:49)
- A New Beginning (1:37)
Released by: Reprise
Release date: 1994
Total running time: 55:43
His first album after the seminal Tubular Bells, Mike Oldfield’s Hergest Ridge dips into decidedly Celtic waters. The best thing about this epic two-part composition is that it really does take one on a journey – the main themes and motifs are developed, come to a climax, and then put on the back burner while other themes come to the fore, and everything reappears toward the end for a surprisingly laid-back summation. Despite the classical structure, it’s very much a modern work. Oldfield’s guitar work is nothing short of phenomenal, ranging from bucolic, Celtic-style strumming to full-blast heavy metal, and there are several thematic previews of his next album, Ommadawn, to be heard. (In fact, if you’ve got the hour or so to burn, I strongly suggest listening to Hergest Ridge and Ommadawn back to back.) There is also an abundance of orchestral instrumentation here, as well as a full choral version of one theme.
There really aren’t any drawbacks; this kind of longform composition has fallen into disuse these days, so those looking for convenient places to take a break may be a little put off by the length of the tracks. To them, I can only say that it’s worth it to sit and listen to this one (and indeed, to any of Oldfield’s longform works). Very highly recommended for those who want to hear an ambient instrumental piece that isn’t steeped in electronica, and lasts longer than five or six minutes.
The long-awaited follow-up to 1999’s stellar self-titled album sees Oceania – vocalist Hinewehi Mohi, Killing Joke alumnus Jaz Coleman, and an assortment of other players – staying on course, mixing native Maori instrumentation and poetry with modern musical styles. And if the fact that I can’t seem to stop listening to it is any reliable indicator, this second album is even more compelling than the first.
After nearly ten years of touring and recording, Electric Light Orchestra Part II – which included original ELO veterans Bev Bevan, Kelly Groucutt, Louis Clark and Mik Kaminski – met its match. It wasn’t touring exhaustion – unlike the usually reclusive Jeff Lynne, these guys love playing live. In this case, it was Lynne himself, who was in the process of reclaiming the ELO name for an upcoming greatest hits box set and an all-new album of original Lynne material; Lynne wanted any other use of the ELO name dropped. Drummer Bev Bevan, who had been with ELO ever since the band evolved from The Move in 1971, decided not only to give up the ELO Part II moniker, but to retire from performing as well.
“What’s this?” I asked. “A Paul McCartney tribute album benefitting cancer charities and featuring the Finn Brothers? Sign me up!”
You know, I’ll be the first to fess up that I’m not exactly a Thistle & Shamrock Listener (not that it’s a bad show, and not that I don’t like the music). And I’m a little wary of the mania for all things Celtic that has pervaded the underbelly of pop culture for the past decade or so, despite the fact that I’m able to trace my own lineage straight back to Ireland. Something about everyone embracing this culture just because it’s “in” bugs me – and many of the supposedly Celtic musical acts out there aren’t peddling the sound of old Eire, but rather of Enya, whose sound I associate with new age music more than I do anything that sounds distinctly Celtic. But I’ll expound on this soapbox more later. With all my griping, you’re probably wondering why in the world I even bothered with this CD.
For years, I’ve been addicted to music from New Zealand’s royal family of pop music, the Finns (of Split Enz and Crowded House fame). Not so long ago, however, I saw a CNN piece on a new Kiwi project which not only sounded interesting, but drew heavily from New Zealand’s Maori heritage (another subject with which I’m fascinated). This new musical entry was called Oceania, and it took me forever to find a copy. But the search was well worth it (and now, as you can see from the ubiquitous purchase link on this page, it’s suddenly easy to find!).
Where Mystery Girl succeeded in adding luster to Orbison’s posthumous legend, this album, despite a number of great songs, comes across as one too many trips to the well. Whether for the money or the publicity, this may have stretched it too far. The usually elegant production values associated with Jeff Lynne deteriorate to home demo standards with “I Drove All Night” and “Heartbreak Radio”, neither of which offers any glimpse of Lynne’s future skill in restoring deceased artists’ demo recordings. The best songs on King Of Hearts include “After The Love Has Gone”, “You’re The One” (featuring k.d. lang), and “We’ll Take The Night”, all of them as well-produced as anything from Mystery Girl. Perhaps better filler could have been found than another rendition of the previous 
album’s “Careless Heart “which doesn’t differ enough from the original to merit much attention, though I welcomed the inclusion of an earlier duet recordimg of “Crying” with k.d. lang that had previously languished in the obscurity of the soundtrack of a Jon Cryer movie. I can recommend this album to dedicated followers of the late, great Roy Orbison, but honestly can’t advise casual listeners to seek it out. 
In a move that may seem like sacrelige to purists, this entire album consists of recent re-recordings of Orbison’s classic hits, mixed and mastered nicely and in some cases arranged and produced more elaborately than they ever had a chance to be when they were first recorded. The genesis of the project was director David Lynch’s desire to use Orbison’s “In Dreams” in his movie Blue Velvet, and Lynch – later of Twin Peaks fame – wanted a better recording than the original, thus the new recording. With that session’s pleasing results, the rest of the album was recorded and we wind up with this very nice album. Oh, yeah, these are not the origial songs as played on the radio way 
This is another album I was introduced to in my radio days, and I still like it; it’s quite unusual sounding, to say the least. Some have described Oldfield as new age, but I don’t think that pigeonhole is one into which this album can be stuffed. The material is too experimental and avant-garde for new age, and is really in a class by itself. The intricate multilayered guitar and synth work is wonderful in itself, but that it can be stretched into a thirty-minute concerto with few boring interludes is a marvel. The silly little “Horse