As some of you might very well know, today is International Talk Talk Day. Sometime in 1987 or 1988—the memory fades—Kevin McCormick and I vowed that every April 5th, we would listen to the entirety of Talk Talk’s mid-period masterpiece, The Colour of Spring, as a reminder of three things.
First, that no matter how dark the world might become, beauty endures and promises—through the seasons—eternal renewal.
Second, that no matter where we are in the world, our friendship endures.
Third, that Mark Hollis (RIP) was a genius.
Since the late 1980s, Tad Wert has joined in the pledge. Please join us in celebrating that miracle that was Talk Talk.
Here she comes Silent in her sound Here she comes Fresh upon the ground Come gentle spring Come at winter’s end Gone is the pallor from a promise that’s nature’s gift Waiting for the color of spring Let me breathe Let me breathe the color of spring Here she comes Laughter in her kiss Here she comes Shame upon her lips Come wanton spring Come for birth you live Youth takes it’s bow before the summer the seasons bring Waiting for the color of spring
Crazily enough, Apple’s iTunes gave me the choice to categorize
Giancarlo Erra’s latest album, ENDS, as either “new age” or classical. I had no idea that “new age” was still a
category or a genre or a label or anything less than a slur when still
employed. The whole process of choosing this reminded me of how much I despise
labels—for people or for music.
There’s really only one proper description for Erra’s album,
ENDS: art. Best known for his rather ethereal and spacy art rock band (oh,
those labels again!), Nosound, ENDS is Erra’s first solo album. Eight songs
long, the album feels most like a wordless song-cycle, a meandering and a deepening
and a widening of several achingly gorgeous melodies. There’s certainly nothing
resembling rock—of any variety—on this album, but the various keyboards and
deeper strings bring the listener very close to the music of the spheres, with
elements of Henryk Gorecki and Mark Hollis informing but not shaping Erra’s
Even the very titles of the eight songs–III, II, I, VII, V, IV, VI, Coda—seemingly offer us nothing in the way of personality.
And, yet, ENDS is nothing but personality, beautiful and wide and deep—we are shown the very soul the artist. Not in an egotistical way, but in a perfectly humane way.
Above, I mentioned Gorecki and Hollis, but the more I listen
to this glorious album, I feel as though I’m dwelling one of Bach’s adagios.