By Julianna
Debates by foregone music publications run by ex-industry execs about “the greats” of music are trite ones. They’re also counterproductive, because we somehow just found out that taste is subjective (ok, there are certain objective standards that might qualify some music as better than others) and what one musician might mean to the editorial staff of Rolling Stones or Pitchfork might not translate to the wider community of listeners.
Now, I will just refute everything I’ve said. There are certain musicians who have achieved some sort of immortal status, probably because musicians who are also classified as “composers” in the 20th/21st century warrant a greater amount of respect from the music world because their talent extends far beyond producing content that can be played on the radio. It becomes more about transforming music not just as an art form but as a science. There are those certain artists where even if their music “isn’t for you”, you can still respect the mastery that goes into their work. Especially if these artists call themselves “non-musicians”, that means there are other forces at play than just sheer artistry that are working to shift how we think about and listen to music.
If someone has come to mind as I’m describing this person, you’re probably right. I’m talking about Brian Eno. Lots has been written about Eno and probably much better than I could ever describe him, but I’ll attempt to do him justice for those who may not be familiar with his work. First off, if you don’t know Brian Eno, you probably know the music he’s produced. He’s known for some of his famous collaborations with bands like Talking Heads and U2, and, more recently, with DJ/producer and Eno’s prodigé, Fredagain. Talking Heads’ Remain in Light (1980), U2’s The Joshua Tree (1987), David Bowie’s Heroes (1977), and Slowdive’s Souvlaki (1993) can all be attributed to Eno. But his collaborations barely scratch the surface of Eno’s influence on music.
His work behind the scenes of music as a concept and something that demands academic focus is probably the longest-lasting impact he will have on the art form. He’s introduced unconventional approaches and progressive concepts to music and for musicians. In the 60s, Eno worked with his friend from art school, Peter Schmidt, to release a set of flashcards called “Oblique Strategies”, which serve as guidelines for musicians to spur creativity. He pioneered the genre, or field, of ambient music, with solo projects such as Another Green World and Music for Airports/Ambient 1 (1978). Eno experimented with musique concréte and the concept of “looping” in his collaboration with Robert Fripp for The Heavenly Music Corporation 1 (1973). Also, he’s scored some notable film soundtracks, such as Dune (2023), The Lovely Bones (2009), and Moulin Rouge! (2001). Now, Eno’s since put out a documentary about his life that premiered at the Sundance Film Festival this year that’s partially generated by AI, in that it literally changes every time it’s premiered. Each viewing will be unique from the next, so it feels like you’re getting a personalized view into Eno’s life. Brian Eno has always been about the future, however far away or not that might seem.
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I could choose any Brian Eno song and it could be argued as a masterpiece. Greg and I both share a love for Eno for so many reasons, whether it’s his humanitarian efforts in Gaza and beyond or just his sheer musical artistry. We both deeply admire Eno’s 1973 record Another Green World, which is a clear demonstration of his taste and forward projections as an artist. It just feels so good to listen to. His musical voice has always been clear like it came so naturally from him. The ability to produce something that sounds so effortless yet extraordinary is probably one of the most difficult and applaudable to pull off as an artist.
Back in June, Greg and I were in a pizza shop off Fairfax in Los Angeles. We were coming home from a long day of doing LA things and we wanted a taste of our relationship’s ancestral homeland — New York City. The pizza of course wasn’t important (it wasn’t that good). We just wanted somewhere we could sit down and refuel before the drive home. Tiredly, we ate our pizza barely saying a word to each other, until we surprisingly heard a familiar piano chord playing overhead. It was the intro to Brian Eno’s “I’ll Come Running” off Another Green World. Hearing the song energized us more than the food. It was like running into someone we knew who embraced us and gave us hot chocolate and cookies. It was truly a special moment and one that we reference often.
Listening to “I’ll Come Running” elicits such an emotional response. It’s beautifully simplistic, and so is the act of love that Eno describes in the song. He sings, “I’ll come running to tie your shoes,” an act of love so small yet so meaningful. But it isn’t so much a love song as it is a song about looking after someone, and caring for that person deeply, like a father with his child. It’s a universal, unconditional form of love that shows up in the details, and in giving up some of yourself to the other person. I mostly ignore the rest of the song because I get so lost in Eno singing, “I’ll come running to tie your shoes”. But the verses are just as poetic. The verses birth life into the song’s main line. The perspective of the person comes from a place of desire, imagination, daydreaming, and longing. It’s about how good of a lover he’d be once love arrived in his life as if he can attract a lover by his ability to love. He’s waiting for love to arrive at his doorstep.
I'll find a place somewhere in the corner
I'm gonna waste the rest of my days
Just watching patiently from the window
Just waiting seasons change, some day
Oh, oh, my dreams will pull you through that garden gate.
I want to be the wandering sailor
We're silhouettes by the light of the moon
I sit playing solitaire by the window
Just waiting seasons change, ah, ah
You'll see, one day, these dreams will pull you through my door
The music itself isn’t as obviously striking or far-reaching as the rest of Eno’s comprehensive and experimental discography. It’s essentially Eno saying, ‘hey, I can make simple, and I can make simple sound good.”
Eno’s backing vocals singing “oh-oh” over the chorus act as another layer of instrumentality. And in an Eno-Fripp fashion, Fripp possessed the bridge with a Frippertonics guitar solo that sounds like someone wailing back and forth. He can illustrate emotion through music so brilliantly as if music was his mother tongue. He plays a shaky major chord progression over Fripps’ “restrained guitar”, which Eno described himself in the liner of the album. Eno also described several other metaphorical instruments “types”, like a “snake guitar”.
“It was because the kind of lines I was playing reminded me of the way a snake moves through the brush, a sort of speedy, forceful, liquid quality,” Eno said in an interview with Lester Bangs.
Only Eno can give life to lifeless things. He demonstrates the many ways an instrument can sound, including “uncertain pianos” and “fretless bass”. It’s as if the instruments are members of Eno’s band, which speaks to their importance and value in his music. It probably sounds obvious that instruments matter in music, but they can often be overlooked or even underappreciated when they sound as effortless as they do in Eno’s music. Eno has always been a storyteller, and his ability to create cinema through music not just with this song and this album, but in every project he partakes in, is a spectacular feat only some will ever have the privilege of doing.