Okay, so listen up, punks. I'm listening to Eno's latest ambient album REFLECTION right now. I couldn't find it on the normal channels online, so I logged in to Spotify and found the four minute and twenty-one second excerpt--and am listening to that on repeat. *(Click the image above to link directly to the Reflection excerpt on Spotify)
I just wanted to set the record straight here. In the previous section of this diptych on Eno's latest release, I waxed on about some ridiculous notions concerning the potential for his ambient music to evolve radically over an indefinite period of time; for it to potentially mutate into an unfamiliar form. While such fancies make fun notions to suddenly jot down by the ends of my fingertips whilst madly blogging without a care in the world, I return in this sobering sequel to reassure you all that no such thing could possibly take place insofar, at least, as the original tape loop recordings Eno pioneered 42 years ago. (I assume the technique which yields REFLECTION to be analogous to that, only in digital format.)
The point being, if you set up the original different-length tape loops to play endlessly, yes they'd never quite repeat the exact same configuration of sounds yet rest assured the exact same level of tonality and texture would remain consistent throughout all eternity. This is the answer we'd expect to hear from Mr. Eno, were he required to explain the nature of his ambient tape loops. I feel Reflection to most likely be constrained within the same inflexible parameters which allow the digitized loops to interplay--producing endless sonic configurations--while remaining relatively consistent in tone and texture.
I've been getting increasingly intriguing glimpses into the full potential of the Reflection app from having listened to various differing snippets of Reflection. Namely, the four sides of the 2LP vinyl (which I more often than not select to put on the turntable randomly, as if the four tracks were on shuffle) and now this endless looping four minute, twenty-one second excerpt on Spotify unspooling gently in the background from my office computer here.
Given the observation that even this limited four minute snippet loop doesn't get old after multiple repeats, it widens the album's vista into a dimensional fourfold. I think of the album as a folded up, sonic hypercube now. That renders the app as the spaceship that will catapult the listener into warp drive. This is your spacey dJ & vinyl junkie Thornswrath signing off for now, reminding you that we are well underway into the unfolding Technological Singularity.
I bought Eno's latest ambient album REFLECTION yesterday, and after listening to it several times, have been able to determine just what his remarkable accomplishment is, this time around. It's this:
Eno has released an album whose ideal and ultimate format is not the vinyl LP, nor the CD, but rather, the APP available for purchase on iTunes. To my mind, this is a significant achievement.
The REFLECTION APP allegedly self-generates endless mutations of the music's keynote themes, arranged and programmed by Eno himself to engender non-identical variations for as long as (I assume) you keep it playing on your iPad or computer or smart phone, whichever the case may be.
The question which immediately leaps to my mind, and which I'd seriously love to ask Brian, is just how far from its set parameters can the sound of Reflection's music deviate over the long term? Because the possibilities which come to mind are fascinating: Are the parameters set by Eno such that, sort of like being continually wound around the prongs of a tuning fork, yet only allowing a limited scope of infinitesimal variations, which despite being permitted to play for a century (let's say), would result in only minor evolutionary changes? Or, is it possible that, after allowing Reflection to play for an extended period of time, might the sound complicate itself in a manner which could potentially degenerate into unbearable noise? Or more wondrous even, is it possible that in a manner much like life itself, could the music of Reflection, after being allowed to play a sufficient amount of time, begin organizing itself into completely unexpected and startling patterns? I suspect that either Brian Eno is wondering about this himself, or he already knows the answer (which more than likely would be the former supposition, which is to say, the parameters are limited enough by which this "river" of music, although constantly changing over the course of time by minor increments that are barely noticeable, will yet retain its essential shape of a river of continually flowing music, regardless how long it plays).
Here's a YouTube video of a guy showing off his LP version of REFLECTION, for your perusal.
There's another YouTube video of a prog guy "reviewing" REFLECTION, and although he brings up some good points, I have to say, he doesn't even offer to tell us what he thinks of the music itself--he merely concludes that he "can't" offer a review due to the fact Eno has "outdone" him by having provided this endlessly generating ambient suite. So here's that guy's "review" (or lack of) so you can check it out for yourself, then I'll conclude this entry by providing my own opinion on what I think of it, in contrast to his other legendary ambient recordings.
So while the above YouTube video may have been worth checking out, I'm still a little disappointed that our prog guy there didn't even offer us his opinion on whether he liked it that much, or not. As for me--while yes, I can clearly state that I enjoyed having REFLECTION play out in the background, I don't think it's anywhere near as satisfying or good as, say, THURSDAY AFTERNOON, or DISCREET MUSIC, or MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS, or even LUX. That said, I find it a worthy addition to the Eno canon. I remain most amused by the fact that the 2LP version (which necessarily slices the potential endless nature of the music into 4 separate segments) is most certainly the least optimal version of the album. That's a first, in my experience. This renders the CD as being better than the LP, because at least we get all four tracks as one 53-minute, uninterrupted experience. Leaving the APP as the optimal format for this particular album. (I must note here that Adrian Belew came out with a similar concept with his album FLUX, also available as an interactive APP which allows the listener to play around with the parameters--set by Belew--in order to create their own alternate versions of FLUX. Eno's REFLECTION is a bit different in that it's not interactive). If I could set up a permanent installation in my home--or even outdoors in a garden, for instance--of the REFLECTION APP, I certainly would. I'm willing to bet Eno himself, at the very least, has done so, specifically with the intent to stand by for the rest of his life in order to see how far the variations stray from his parameters.
REFLECTION joins Eno's most minimal works (such as NEROLI and some of his lesser-known ambient installation albums) and as such, I personally find it to remain valuable insofar as putting on more discreet background music for relaxation or writing purposes goes. It's a lovely addition to a stellar career in having pioneered this sort of thing. What I like about the 2LP vinyl version is that I can pretty much disregard the four sides (a, b, c, & d) and listen to them in any sequence without really interfering noticeably with their progression. The only annoying thing about it, really, is having to get up and flip the records over three times about every thirteen minutes. That's why I intend to secure for myself the APP for this wonderful new Eno album. Make no mistake about it: Eno has always done his own thing, and that's what I consider to lie at the heart of being very punk indeed.
