It's no surprise, then, that the two best songs of the album, BY FAR, are the Genesis-style ones. After all, Pete had no clue what his new direction would be, but he definitely had the old one pretty much perfected. That said, while both Moribund the Burgermeister and Solsbury Hill have noticable ties to Peter's past (in particular, a large chunk of theatricality), each of them also features aspects never before heard on a Gabriel album. This is especially true in the case of Moribund, which features orchestral backing in the chorus and deep, robotic drumming driving it forward. But the lyrics and complexity of the song make it otherwise sound like an old, unearthed Genesis outtake, which needless to say makes me happy. And as for Solsbury Hill, well, that's just a great song - the main acoustic guitar line is extremely memorable, the mysterious, enigmatic lyrics entertain to no end, and chaotic vocal noise-making at the end after Peter's been "taken home."

But after those two songs, great numbers are very, very difficult to come by. Out of the remaining seven tracks, only one, the silly barbershop excursion Excuse Me (with terrific singing by Peter and vocal arranging by Tony Levin, not to mention neat self-deprecating lyrics about suddenly being poor), stands out as even a minor classic. Well, ok, there are other fairly good numbers. If you're a glam-rock fan, you'll probably love Here Comes the Flood - personally, I'm not, but I have to admit that it's ok. Not that memorable, except in the chorus, but not bad by any stretch. One can also fish out a couple of pearls within the jazzy Waiting For the Big One (which people seem to hate for some reason - sure, it's no more memorable than anything else on the album, but this is actually a very funny song), and in Down the Dolce Vita. Of course, the most redeeming aspect of the song is the funky rhythm guitar part driving it forward, whereas the rest of the song positively refuses to stick in my brain, but whatever.

Now what bother me are the other three numbers, in particular the two 'rockers.' I'm sorry, but while the novelty factor of Peter "rocking out" might be high, neither Modern Love nor Slowburn is able to entertain me for more than five seconds or so. The latter especially annoys me - I HATE that "don't get me wrong, I'll be strong" hook, which strikes me as some of the most generic swill I've heard in some time. As for the other song, the ballad Humdrum, I'm still not convinced of its greatness like many are. The final chunk, where Peter's voice is obfuscated heavily, is decent enough, but the rest of the song bores me to sleep. And that's something I can say about very, very few Gabriel songs.

Regardless of all these gripes, though, I still give the album a 7, since it does get off to such a good start, and since none of the songs are immediately offensive. Honestly, though, I really can't understand why so many people consider this one of two or three finest albums of Peter's career. All you fans out there - teach me something I don't know.

PS (a year and a half after writing the review): I've discovered one extra interesting tid-bit. While I'm still not that crazy about this album's version of Here Comes the Flood, the piano-only version on his greatest hits comp is EXCELLENT, one of Peter's most moving ballads.

Now, I'm not saying this is a masterpiece by any means. As on the first album, the first two tracks stand out a good deal more than what follows. Plus, the production muffles the already subdued material to a large degree, so it's largely possible for many of the songs on here to simply pass you by. But, again, why must subdued necessarily be worse than arena-rockesque? I mean, soft piano ballads (with occasional rock songs) may not jive with the typical notion one has of Peter, and I will grant that if he had continued in this vein, his solo career would have just been a nice footnote instead of a powerful independent force. But regardless of all that, this album is just fine - at the very least, none of the songs on here irritate me as much as Slowburn.

Now, as mentioned earlier, the first two songs of the album are the major standouts. On The Air, as much of a Who ripoff as it might be (it reminds me heavily of New Song), features both the most memorable chorus and one of the most memorable verse melodies of the album, not to mention a killer guitar solo from Robert Fripp (who also produced the album). Of course, given the very loose production of the album, it takes a few listens to appreciate said solo, but once you get around to it you'll appreciate it heavily. As for the next song, D.I.Y., once you can get past the fact that Peter sounds like he's singing through a sock, you'll have a great deal of difficulty stopping yourself from humming it for the next hour. The verse melody is the best on the album, the chorus is merely a step behind On The Air's, and the simple ascending guitar line is just perfect. Needless to say, these two songs are a large chunk of the reason the album gets such a high grade.

But most of the rest of the songs each stick out in some way or another. In particular, the album closer Home Sweet Home is the creepiest lyrical engima Peter's given us since The Musical Box. Without going into too much detail about the story, I'll merely say that it's the way O' Henry's "Gift of the Magi" would have turned out if O' Henry had been a psychotic. For that very reason, it works incredibly as an album closer, since it leaves no satisfactory sense of resolution in the listener's mind, and hence leaves him/her wanting more.

Other standouts of the album include A Wonderful Day in a One-Way World, essentially the closest Gabriel ever came to sounding like Bob Dylan (not to mention it has another memorable chorus), and the soft ballad Mother of Violence, which has the benefit of Gabriel's tender voice very slightly uneasing you (there's just something off about the way he's able to sing the "she's the mother of violence" so loosely and relaxed). And speaking of uneasiness, how about Indigo, a ballad that's essentially the story of a dying man told from the man's perspective? Brrrr .... Man, that's creepy as hell, and lyrically is a neat predecessor to various songs on III.

On a lighter note, there's, you guessed it, a Firth of Fifth-style track (man, EVERYBODY wanted a piece of that song) in White Shadow. Not that it's really structured like Firth, of course, but it has the mystical lyrics, weird synth parts and another neat Fripp solo, so what else do you want?? And speaking of Fripp, how about the creepy Exposure, which Robert would later reuse as the title track to one of this solo albums? I mean, it might put you off with its weirdness, but it's so hypnotic, what with the repetitive drumlines and all, that I can't help but enjoy the hell out of it.

And the rest is ... er ... the rest. Not overwhelming (Perspective and Animal Magic, catchy as they are when on, can irritate just a whee bit, while Flotsam and Jetsam eludes me every time), but definitely not bad either. At least, not enough to knock down the rating below an 8. I mean, seriously, if two-thirds of the album ranges from very good to great, and the rest isn't bad, how can I honestly give the album any less than an 8?

But enough about albums getting 7's and 8's - it's time to move onto the 'big boys.'

Indeed, even over twenty years later, this album stands out proudly as one of the great achievments of the "New Wave" era, not to mention one of the greatest albums of the 1980's. First of all, Peter obviously fell in love with drum sequencers and electronic drums between '78 and '80, because this album is absolutely smothered in them (in fact, one of the album's distinguishing features is the complete lack of cymbals throughout). But, clever dude that he was, he did not make the mistake that so many make, i.e. letting 'dance rhythms' seize and control his brain. Instead, Peter enslaved the machines and made them bend to his own will, using them as an extension of his creative process to hammer home the general point of the album. And what is that point, at least on the first side of the album? One word: psychosis. Plenty of people, to this point, had used drum machines as a way to create new and unique dancable rhythms, but only Peter had taken it upon himself to use them to truly frighten people to this extent.

Of course, it's obviously not just programmed percussion that produces such a creepy atmosphere - it's the lyrics and the music accompanying them. Note that there is no accident in the ordering of that phrase; it is indeed the lyrics that are the main thrust of the first side of the album, with the actual music as a tool to support and expand upon them. Not to say the music is anywhere near bad, of course - it's just that it's not the main artistic focus. So when there's heavy paranoia involved, the music's fast; when there's an overwhelming feeling of slowly approaching doom, the music is slow and bottom-heavy; and when the story is creepy and hazy, like out of some bad dream, the music is uneasily mellow, for lack of a better term.

So what constitutes the songs on this first side, the "greatest psychological thrill ride in the history of mass art" as I like to say? For starters, one could not possibly pick a better introduction than Intruder, with Peter speaking as a burglar. The pounding beat, the weird creaking noises simulating some sort of unscrewing or unhinging (I guess), combined with muffled lyrics like "I like to feel the suspense when I'm certain you know I am there" do an incredible job of creating the images of people lying in their beds, scared out of their wits. And that's the point, I think - a burglar is most frightening because he (or she) is violating the sanctity of one's home, which is supposed to be one's refuge from the harsh, unforgiving world. When that's gone, where can one turn for comfort? Nowhere. A fun thought indeed.

The next two songs (and no, I don't count Start as a seperate song, since it's obviously meant to be an introduction to I Don't Remember) also focus on fear, but different aspects of it. No Self Control is a favorite of mine, with it's jittery rhythms of alternating synth and guitar noises, weird backing vocals here and there, uneasily fast-tempoed xylophones and Peter's even more uneasy and paranoid vocals. Not to mention, of course, the lyrics, alternating between laments of being unable to stop doing bad things and being scared of the various creatures coming out to punish him for the things he does. But I Don't Remember is certainly not much worse, as it speaks from the perspective of an amnesiac who constantly thinks and worries about his past. On this track, in particular, Peter pulls out all the stops in his voice to creep out the listener, chiming with all sorts of frantic-sounding vocal noises to compliment the beat and the weird guitar/synth mixtures.

And, of course, we have the infamous Family Snapshot. While the music certainly isn't the most incredibly memorable tune he's ever come up (although, honestly, I pretty much knew it after four listens or so), it's the lyrics that matter here. The "plot," roughly speaking, is that we see through the eyes of a presidential assasin, who then flashes back to his sad childhood, with his parents always fighting and not paying attention to him. The greatest thing about these lyrics, though, is the giant enigma painted by them. See, one could also easily interpret the track as actually being told by this troubled young kid who escapes reality by fantasizing about a way to get some attention, then snaps out of it and decides to practice on his parents instead. I can honestly accept arguments for both sides of this debate (and would like it, of course, if you the reader would send in insights on this track). But even without the enigma, these lyrics are INCREDIBLE. Everything is precise down to the last detail, with the president's car slowly coming in range, while the governor's car lies in front with police bikers further front still. Not to mention, of course, that one of the greatest lines of all time is included in this song; "I want to be somebody - you were like that too. If you don't get given you learn to take, and I will take you."

Now, I must admit that for a while, side two disappointed me, mainly because it didn't contain the 'conceptual unity' of side one. Eventually, though, I realized that there are, in fact, four great songs on this side, plus one ok instrumental. None of them are about a psychological disorder, but all of them still contain good lyrics, and more importanty, the melodies are good. Hence, both And Through The Wire and Games Without Frontiers have worked their way into my heart as wonderfully catchy and, in the case of the latter, really funky songs. Plus, Not One Of Us, though despised by one Ben Greenstein, is a wonderful anthem of the socially oppressed, with the twist of being told by the social oppressors. Not to mention that, in one line, it encapsulates the entire clique mentality - "how can we be in if there is no outside?".

And, of course, there's Biko, Peter's tribute to a murdered anti-apartheid leader. In addition to featuring his first use of an 'ethnic' rhythm, the song contains some of Peter's most passionate singing and moving lyrics. The song could be viewed as monotonous, I suppose, but it's hard for me to truly imagine the song as anything shorter than what it is, including the lengthy fadeout. In the hands of somebody like, I dunno, Bono, the song would probably have turned out hopelessly cheezy - with Peter, though, it becomes an anthem for the ages. How could it not, after all, with lyrics like "When I try and sleep at night, I can only dream in red. The outside world is black and white with only one color dead"?

In short, this is an absolute masterpiece, marred only by some slow bits (ie the instrumentals) here and there, and my pick for the best album of the 1980's. And just as importantly, it proved for the first time that Peter could not only survive, but thrive without Genesis - no more would the "tsk, he should have stayed with Genesis" whispers abound.

What distinguishes Security primarily is that, for the most part, it is a concept album. But it's different from most concept albums in a very important way; whereas the conceptual unity of most such albums lie in the lyrics or a story of some kind, here the concept lies in the music itself. The common thread holding about sixty percent of the album together, as you may have read elsewhere many times by now, is the presence of various "ethnic rhythms" functioning as the core of composition. But this is not merely an average "sounds of the world" album - Peter's love of electronics (and making full use of the production capabilities he had at his disposal) had only increased since III, and as such the songs are VERY densely arranged, with layer upon layer of electronic drum, guitar and synthesizer sound piled upon said rhythms. And that is the key to enjoying this album, especially since the melodies themselves only occasionally jump out and suck in the listener by themselves. When I first took this album home from the store, I gave it a listen on headphones ... and within a matter of a few minutes, had to take them off due to my brain simply not being able to process everything that was going on at once. Now, it did take me a few listens to begin to enjoy some of the melodies themselves, and as such I didn't love the album at first, but I knew right away that, from a pure sound perspective, I had a masterpiece on my hands.

It should be noted, though, that a lot of people, even fans of Peter, don't like this album much. A commentator on the Prindle site summed up the general feeling of these people quite well - "Shock The Monkey and I Have The Touch are just floating in a sea of blah." Of course, as you may gather from that, even haters of the album love those two songs, and for good reason. Neither one of them follow the "ethnic rhythm" concept, but that doesn't mean these are average 80's pop songs either. Everyone, of course, has heard Shock the Monkey, whose underlying topic probably doesn't need explanation. It's a great little ditty, though, especially the parts with the encoded vocals saying, "ShhhhhhhhhhhhhhhOCK shhhhhhhhhhhhOCK" and near the end when Peter is hitting insanely high notes. I Have the Touch sure isn't any worse, though. The percussion sequencing is entertaining as heck, and if you don't find yourself subconciously moving your various body parts when Peter hits the "shrug my shoulders stretch my back etc" parts, you just aren't listening closely enough.

But, again, most of the album does not sound like those numbers, and as such people often dislike it. But, as much as I enjoy STM and IHTT, they positively PALE to the best of the 'atmospheric' numbers on here. And keep in mind, again, that this comes from somebody who still isn't convinced that rhythm can consistently take the place of melody as the central feature of a song and still be enjoyable. But, you know, it's not as if these songs are completely unmelodic bores - there actually are hooks, they're just VERY few and far between. More importantly, though, these songs are able to move beyond the realm of mere 'mood music' because they all have one very important attribute; build (well, ok, Family and the Fishing Net is an exception, but it's great for other reasons). These songs start relatively subdued, but their verse melodies continually grow and grow in intensity until erupting into something grand and wonderful.

This is especially true of the first two numbers (which, of course, are the best two numbers), Rhythm of the Heat and San Jacinto. Even when I was doubtful about the rest of the album, Rhythm was a song I found myself coming back to again and again, a tale of a "westernized" person living in a non-western land until the culture around him overtakes his mind and spirit. Peter puts on a wonderful vocal performance, particularly in his "The rhythm has my SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUULLLLLL" calls at the end of each chorus. The production is also especially terrific on this track, as the low end is filled with pounding bass and bass drums and strange shaking noises throughout. And, of course, the song goes nuts at the end, as the main rhythm speeds up and intensifies until coming to a dead stop.

San Jacinto, in turn, greets us with a rhythm driven forward by (my guess, anyways) some sort of Eastern wind instrument, mixed in with what sounds like a chime of some kind. As time passes, little bits of of guitar sound pop up here and there, whilst Peter speaks from the perspective of an old Indian lamenting the decline of his people and the loss of its holy land to modern culture. The tension builds until the Indian declares in the "I hold the line!" part that, despite the hopelesness of the situation, he will not surrender, and he will not lose hope for the future of his people. Plus, I find the coda, overlong to some, perfectly appropriate, not to mention eerie as hell and quite beautiful.

Closing out side one is another classic in Family and the Fishing Net, a tale of a wedding. Yes, it's a bit monotonous. Yes, it probably doesn't deserve to be so long. But it rules. Why? Because the drum-programming on the track is just so cool. Man, it's like you can hear the drumstick cutting through the air, swooping down onto the waiting drum below. It practically sounds like an executioner's sword, it's just that neat (I also appreciate the irony of using executioner imagery in the music to describe a wedding). And, of course, there are extra little percussion effects throughout to add some sense of diversity.

Another minor classic, along the same lines, can be found in Lay Your Hands on Me. Peter begins each verse muttering over an erratic drum track, sings quietly for a little bit, and starts singing louder and louder before erupting into the very catchy chorus. And, as is expected from Peter, it's utterly fascinating lyrically (I especially love the line, "No more miracles, loaves and fishes, been so busy with the washing of the dishes.") It's not quite as great as the songs that came before it, but still, there's no reason to dislike it, no reason at all.

Unfortunately, the last two tracks let things down significantly, and drag the rating of the album down a point. Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate the lyrical theme of Wallflower, devoted to prisoners of war who are mistreated, and I pity the main character. But more than any song on the album, this is NOTHING but mood music - it tries to be a beautiful anthemic ballad, but so did Humdrum, and you know my feelings about that one. And, alas, the closing Kiss of Life is even worse, with an utterly generic latin rhythm underpinning it while Peter sings about loving big women. Maybe you'll find it fun, but I find it completely lacking any reasonable substance.

Regardless of those two weaknesses, though, this is a GREAT album. If Peter only decided to release the first six tracks and call it an EP, it would be very very close to III in quality. It's not an album that will hook you in right away, but with just a little time and a little care, there's no reason one shouldn't come to appreciate this as the electronic (minor) masterpiece it is.

The difficulty presented in reviewing this, of course, is that the album strongly resembles a compilation, and most of the songs here are very similar to what we had in the studio. NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING, of course - with the exception of Humdrum, not a single duffer can be found, so at the very least it's an effective compilation. But still, to be truly great, a live album must have some surprises and 'revelations,' so to speak.

Which, fortunately, this album contains. Surprise number one is what a great number D.I.Y turns out to be, especially now that we can actually hear Peter's vocals (which are superb here, of course). Seriously, it was this version of the song that turned me onto the original, which I first considered just a mediocre 'dance ditty.' Who could have known it could sound so powerful when, before, Peter was singing with his mouth full of pebbles? And speaking of muffled vocals, Intruder sounds very peculiar here, as Peter takes the opportunity to sing many of the softer parts of the original at almost full blast (even belting the ending "I am the intruder!"). In any case, the third surprise is the unveiling of a rarity entitled I Go Swimming. It's VERY uncharacteristic for this era of Gabriel, and actually sounds a bit like the faster numbers on So. Of course, the lyrics are characteristically naughty - I've read the suggestion that it's about a man with a water fetish, and I for one believe it.

The second disk also has its share of pleasant surprises. San Jacinto sounds INCREDIBLE thanks to all studio restrictions on Peter's voice being absent. Seriously, as much as I love the original, it has nothing on this live rendition as far as passion goes, especially in the "I hold the line, San Jacinto" parts. Of course, SJ isn't the only good thing about this disc, not by any means. No Self Control gets a radical reworking, slowed down from its original paranoid uptempo mode to a sort of jazzy piece, but with just as much intensity as before.

And, of course, the last chunk of the show is incredible. Not just for the music itself - there's just something about the way they are performed, the energy of the audience, and just the general atmosphere of the place that gives you the feeling that something special, something uncharacteristically good for the 1980's was taking place here. Well, ok, not so much in Humdrum, but Shock the Monkey, On the Air and Biko are about as good of a closing sequence as one can have. Shock the Monkey is especially interesting, not just because of the cool audience participation, but because you realize that Peter is, in fact, HITTING THOSE HIGH NOTES. Obviously, though, this is not to put down either of the other two tracks (not to mention that Biko is opened with a quiet introduction of, "This is for Steven Biko.").

Again, I apologize for the relative brevity of this review, but you have to understand - it is VERY difficult to find anything to say about most of the songs here that I didn't say in the last few album reviews. Regardless, though, if you have $20 just waiting to be spent, don't completely disregard this as a possible purchase.

Of course, a large part of the reason for the similarity to the last two albums is that five of the twelve tracks are, in fact, just re-workings of numbers from those albums. No, they aren't just the whole regular tracks sans lyrics (except in the case of The Heat, which fits that description), but rather bits and pieces of those songs emphasized in odd ways. So we get the flutes and atmosphere of Wallflower (Under Lock and Key), the backwards guitars in the San Jacinto coda (Powerhouse at the Foot of the Mountain), the pretty piano intro to Family Snapshot (Close Up) and the energetic coda to Not One of Us (Birdy's Flight). All good, all enjoyable.

The other seven tracks are dark ambient instrumentals with occasional vocal snatches here and there, and they serve their purpose very well. The opening At Night gets things off to a great start, with an eerie-AS-HELL rhythm (not to mention that the placement of drum tones, especially that ominous electronic buh-DUH-DUH at the end of each phrase, is nothing short of genial) underpinning a moody synth line that goes from scary to slightly upbeat back to scary at the end. This in turn leads to the incredible Floating Dogs - at first you think it's just going to be another dark mood piece, but at a little more than a minute in it becomes this guitar and drum rhythm fest that rocks as well as any good 80's piece should, and then fades back into dark obscurity again. Eep, that's a fun listen.

And then there's Quiet and Alone - if you want a track to really give an idea of how creepy it can possibly be to sit in a dark room all by your lonesome when you're already feeling jittery about things, this is your best bet. The recorders jump around like glimpses of ghosts flittering about the room, and the grumbling synths underneath pin down the feel of darkness to a tee.

The "safe" favorite of the album, Slow Marimbas, starts off sounding almost like a slowed-down version of No Self-Control (maybe that wasn't a xylophone after all ...) until various synths glide up and down to complete the atmosphere. But it's not just atmosphere - those synths are playing a melody, and it's a good (though simple) one. It just so happens that you have to really pay attention to it in order to catch it.

The rest of the tracks aren't that noteworthy, but they're all right. Dressing the Wound is most notable for having traces of Peter's voice in the background, providing the image for me of moaning patients in the background and just a general sense of death and despair throughout. The other two tracks (Slow Water and Sketchpad for Trumpet and Voice) aren't particularly great, as they're just more of the same atmosphere with little musical idiosyncracy, but what do you want from Peter? It's hard to make an entire album of darkness completely enthralling.

In short, this is a good (and unfortunately largely forgotten) album that every Peter fan should own. Fans of the early 80's stuff should be ALL OVER this one - Peter is, after all, a master of atmospherics, and the atmosphere here will have you quaking before it's all said and done. Sure, much of it is reworked stuff, but it's good stuff, so that shouldn't be a problem for you.

The resulting product, then, was essentially "mainstream and adult-contemporary pop meet world beat and experimental." Predictably, critics and fans alike gushed over this album, and gush over it still. With songs to satisfy both cheezy pop lovers and weird-atmospherics aficiondoes, it would seemingly deserve all the praise heeped upon it. But does it really? Well, here's where I break from the majority of the population - from the perspective of fusing the mainstream with the whack, So is, in many respects, a failure. Yes, both pop and art are well represented on the album, but on how many tracks does Peter really succeed in fusing these two aspects into one beautiful whole? He does make an attempt on quite a few of them, but with few exceptions, one has difficulty classifying any of the songs as both intelligent art and interesting pop.

In fact only one of the songs here can be considered an exception ... but WHAT an exception. The opening Red Rain is an absolute Tour de Force, one of the shining examples of truly intelligent 80's pop, balancing atmosphere with catchiness exquisitely. There are some "heavenly" synths like one would find on a typical Phil Collins album, but somehow they're employed in such a way that they don't annoy the listener (not to mention that there's a LOT of piano to compliment them). Plus, the drum programming is very meticulous and intelligent, and Tony Levin contributes one of the most entertaining performances by a bass player that I've ever heard - it's like the lines are slithering about, for lack of a better term. Peter also contributes his best vocal performance of the album, both in singing and in his lyrics (which I guess are about being in a rain of blood, perhaps after a heavy battle or something like that).

But that's it - the rest of the album can basically be divided into "obviously pop" and "obviously atmospheric." And, as is often the case in such situations, both categories are represented by good and bad numbers. The best of the pop numbers, in my opinion, are the two fastest, Sledgehammer and Big Time. Yes, you've heard them a zillion times on the radio, but face it, they each deserve it. In addition to each being insanely memorable and featuring good Gabriel vocals, they each have one overwhelming attribute not usually found on a Gabriel album; snap. What that means, exactly, I'm not sure, it's just the word that comes to my mind first when thinking of how to describe them. What I can tell you, though, is that each is based around guitars rather than synths, and that each have clever lyrics that will make you smile and laugh.

To a lesser (ok, waaaaay lesser) extent, I can also praise In Your Eyes. The problem is, I feel like I shouldn't like this song too much at all - it's essentially generic prom music, with fairly dippy lyrics and more of those heavenly synths. However, it does have a slight thread of melody, and more importantly, Gabriel's wonderful voice is able to save the song from the doldrums that a Phil Collins would have given it. So if I had to assess if I like the song or not, I'd have to give it ... a slight thumbs up. Don't put a gun to my head about it, though.

The other two pop numbers on the album, alas, are not so good. That Voice Again isn't awful per se, but the more I listen to it, the more I feel that it's merely a weak imitation of Red Rain, only without that song's undeniable melody and intensity. Don't Give Up, though, is worse. MUCH worse, in fact, and I can only thank the maker that Peter had the intelligence to only put one song of this type on the album. Peter really enters a Phil Collins mode with this song, with only a nice Tony Levin bassline to salvage things slightly. The synths are annoying, the lyrics are stupid and cliche, and the Kate Bush backing vocals ... dear me, I could not have possibly prepared myself for how corny and awful her vocals are here (how I long for the powerful seductress of Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)). They are SO syrupy and gross that I can't stand the song at all past her first entrance.

Beyond all these numbers, we have the atmospheric textures of the album. These also evoke mixed reactions from me. Mercy Street isn't bad, of course, as there's hardly anything offensive about it. The problem with it is that it sounds like a Security outtake, which isn't a compliment - the great numbers of that album all had gradual build and development, while this song just chugs along without approaching anything resembling a climax. It's just mood music - an odd little mood, but just mood music regardless.

The other two (conveniently tacked on at the end of the album), though, are very enjoyable (and in the case of one of them, creepy as hell). We Do What We're Told (Milgram's 37), in which Peter gives tribute to the experiments that helped explain, among other things, why people would follow Hitler's orders re: the Holocaust, is a piece that Peter had done many times on stage prior to officially recording it. I actually had a hunch before hearing that album that this track would resemble the Birdy material, and by gum I was right. It's theoretically simple - just a repetitive percussion line with build-ups of backing chanting. And yet, the percussion line is memorable in itself, and the atmosphere is hypnotic in an evil sort of way, so I have no complaints.

Finally, we close with This is the Picture (Excellent Birds), a collaboration with Laurie Anderson. It's another weird number, not exactly pop, but not pure atmosphere either. It's not just the novelty value that makes this so great, though - Peter's and Laurie's voices work together very well, whether blurting seemingly nonsensical phrases like, "Falling snow! Excellent snow! Watch it fall!" or interacting during the "I see pictures of people" chunks. Again, I have nothing else in my CD collection that sounds even remotely like this, so I can't really compare it to anything, but as the man once said - "I know what I like, and I like what I know."

Of course, I know this album pretty well ... and I only like it in parts. Regardless of all the many weaknesses it possess, though, I warily squeeze out a 7 for it, if only for respect for such incredible numbers as Red Rain and Sledgehammer. Fortunately, Peter would eventually try to make another album with the same ambitions that accompanied this one, and that one would turn out very well. But first, he had a major detour to take.

Did he succeed? Well, as far as I can tell, he did. Honestly, though, I know absolute jack about world music in general, so I can't really say how this album stands up to others of the genre. I do know, however, that a large number of these songs are highly entertaining, with interesting and tricky percussion rhythms backed with ominous, moody synth parts.

Besides, the first third or so of the album is positively awesome, no matter how you look at it. The Feeling Begins sets the pace with a low-pitched synth noise gradually gaining volume while a violin hovers overhead, until a really interesting rhythm sets in. Gethsemane then presents us with chaotic flute samples (all courtesy of Peter) over more low-pitched synths, before jumping to the wonderful Of These, Hope suite (with Lazarus Raised buried in the middle). The main rhythm beats out anything on Security as far as keeping my interest goes (that says a LOT, by the way), while the synth backings are just beautiful throughout.

My favorite track of the whole album, however, is the incredible A Different Drum. Aside from yet another interesting rhythm, it also features Peter's voice predominantly. Of course, he's not singing anything coherent - this is an instrumental soundtrack, after all - but that doesn't really matter. In fact, the lack of coherency makes the fact that his vocals move me so much on this track all the more incredible - only Peter can make a track come alive by the sheer power of his voice even when he's not actually singing any lyrics.

One should also take note of Zaar, the followup to A Different Drum. As written in the liner notes, "This was written around a traditional Egyptian rhythm which is performed to fend off evil spirits," and needless to say it's one of the most interesting on the album. What truly makes the song, though, is the sound of violin chirping in to make the track even more eerie than it would have been otherwise.

Unfortunately, the album begins to sort of blend from this time on - after a number of listens, only the penultimate It Is Accomplished, with its triumphant chimes driving things forward, sticks in my brain at all. Well, ok, I think it's neat the way that the album ends on a less dramatic and less conclusive note than It Is Accomplished, ending instead with the quiet Bread and Wine. But other than those aspects, virtually nothing truly stands out. None of it is bad, and I enjoy all of it when it's on, but the overall mood makes me really sleepy after a while.

Regardless of all that, however, I happily give the album an 8, if only because the first eight tracks are one of the most enjoyable 20-minute stretches of music I have in my collection. And besides, the album helped reload Peter with inspiration for better things, so what is there to complain about?

Surprised, are you? Well, let's compare the two albums in various defining aspects. So made a stab at fusing world-beat with pop, but (as mentioned before) almost none of the songs boasted strong concentrations of both aspects of Peter's artistic vision. HERE, though, almost ALL of the songs boast untrivial rhythms (thank you, oh thank you Peter for using programmed percussion in an interesting and intelligent manner) while also containing strong hooks and interesting vocal melodies. And speaking of vocals and vocalists, Kate Bush and her cheezy Don't Give Up singing have been sacked, replaced by a legion of other females, including Sinead O'Connor. Now, I know absolute jack about O'Connor, other than the fact that she tore up a picture of the pope on SNL, but I do know this - her voice jives with Peter's so much better than Bush's does that it's positively frightening.

Most importantly, though, is that the vibe of the songs has changed significantly from So. No more are the numbers generically happy and upbeat - as you may know, Pete had recently gone through a divorce before this album, and this event obviously weighed heavily on him throughout the recording sessions. Now, one may think that it's a sign of "fanyboyism" to love an album so much because it's a "deep, introspective" piece, but you have to remember that this is Peter Gabriel we're talking about, and Peter has always been at his best when his "true self" has been engraved in his songs. And sure enough, these songs find Peter sad, (occasionally) happy, optimistic, pessimistic, angry, and mopey, sometimes all at once. None of these lyrics are straightforward, cliched texts "distilled" for a stupid populace - moody enigmas abound, showing a man in utter confusion about how to feel.

Of course, it doesn't hurt that the songs themselves are almost uniformly excellent. The best-known songs of the album are the three uptempo singles, each of which had really awesome videos. My favorite, by a slim margin, is Steam, whose central feature is one of the best basslines you will ever hear in your life. It's extremely dancable, of course, but it can hardly be viewed as a sellout by Peter - it grooves and shimmies (shimmy courtesy of a healthy amount of guitars throughout) like nothing else in his catalogue, but the lyrics are incredibly entertaining, and even the pseudo-rap-bridge is cool!

The other two are hardly much worse, of course. Digging in the Dirt may not seem like much at first (at least, it didn't to me, striking me as just a slightly-mad normal pop song), but closer inspection reveals it as a masterpiece of modern pop. Featuring four distinct melodies throughout, it flows from one pissed-off section to another before resolving itself in a pleasant chorus (of course, the pleasant chorus melts into one of the other, less happy sections as the song fades out). Kiss That Frog may also not impress much at first (many consider it a ripoff of Sledgehammer, since it's fast, poppy and a metaphor for Peter's little Gabriel), but it's far too addictive to resist for long. The main melody is fun and entertaining, the lyrics are funny as hell (as are Peter's croakings near the end), and can you really resist Peter's harmonica and organ playing?

As cool as the singles from this album are, though, they are hardly the only worthwhile aspect of the album. The slower numbers, as a whole, are miles above the ones on So, and worth the price of Us by themselves. The bookends of the album, in particular, are positively spectacular. Come Talk to Me is one of the most astounding opening tracks one can imagine, even more so than Red Rain - I would be hardpressed to name a more enrapturing fade-in than the low-guitar-rumble/bagpipes/drum loop that greets us here, and the rest of the song doesn't let up through its 7 minutes. This track (one of only two such on the album, unfortunately) also features O'Connor on backing vocals, and as I said before, her voice mixes with Peter's in a way that Kate Bush could have only dreamed of.

The closing Secret World also lasts 7 minutes, and while many consider it overlong, it's honestly too short for me. In addition to the most incredible, heartbroken lyrics of the album, a wonderful vocal melody and beautiful use of piano in appropriate places, it also features yet another cool bassline courtesy of Mr. Levin as the song moves into the "middle 8" (and during the fadeout). The atmosphere is also incredible, truly creating the impression of a hidden, "secret world" where two people can live in peace.

A couple of the other songs are very close to the So style, but (naturally) are much better. Love to be Loved comes close to generic adult pop at times, but never crosses the line that Don't Give Up threw up on. It's dark and moody, with Levin high in the mix most of the song and Peter contributing a mellow, restrained vocal, until it enters a beautiful piano-driven coda featuring typically incredible singing. Blood of Eden also seems vaguely adult-popish, with O'Connor chiming in again, but the song is hardly saccharine (how can it be, with lyrics like "Is that a dagger or a crucifix I see?"), so it never bothers me. Plus, Peter hits some very high notes again and again, which makes the vibe of the song that much more peculiar.

The remaining songs are a bit strange, but not much worse. Washing of the Water is, of all things, a very slow country song, but it's incredibly beautiful nonetheless. The melody is strong (as usual), especially during the mid-section, while the lyrics (with Peter asking the water to cleanse and guide him) are tear-jerking ("I'll get those hooks out of me, and I'll take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side, kill that fear of emptiness, that lonliness I hide" anybody?). Again, it's hard to imagine Peter doing country, but his take on it is sufficiently strange to make the song not seem very out of place on the album.

Now, the remaining two tracks are a wee bit fillerish, but that's only in comparison to the other numbers on the album. Only Us is a WEIRD tune, mixing grumbly guitars with what I think is an African rhythm, whilst Peter throws in a somewhat chaotic vocal arrangement. The thing is, though, even with all these disparate features, the song at its heart is a downbeat, mellow song, and as such the song is a bit disconcerting to my ears - were it not for the nice vocal melody and the wonderful "Only us sleeeeeeping, only us dreeeeeeeeeaming" chorus, I wouldn't hold it in as high regard as I do. As for Fourteen Black Paintings, it's essentially a Passion outtake with vocals added, and as much as I enjoy it, the track really should not have been stuck between Digging in the Dirt and Kiss That Frog.

So there's your album - a masterpiece, and surely one of the best of the 90's. Once upon a time, it was actually my pick for the best album of the 1990's (that's changed, though; The Mollusk by Ween would probably get the nod from me now, and Clouds Taste Metallic by The Flaming Lips is up there too) , and were it not for the fact that (a) it doesn't really break any significantly new ground and (b) I'm having trouble convincing myself that it's worth a higher grade than Foxtrot or The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, it would probably get a 14. If you have So already, get this - it's better.

The biggest difference between the live performances and those in the studio, of course, is the presence of real percussion rather than sampling. Fortunately, Peter gathered together some really crack musicians for this release, and as such all of the performances (including those by the drummer) are flawlessly executed (while at the same time not sounding like soulless reproductions of the originals). Tony Levin is great as usual, Paula Cole substitutes for Bush and O'Connor admirably, and the rest are, well, the rest.

The setlist, of course, is fairly predictable ... with a few big, big exceptions. Yup, even in live performance, Peter couldn't let his weird, world-beat/ambient side go unrepresented, so during the first third or so of the album, we get a good 17 minutes of 'obscure', mostly instrumental pieces (well, ok, except for the last one). This begins with the very Passionesque Across The River (which doesn't really capture me like the better pieces of that album), which in turn flows into Birdy's Slow Marimbas and finally ends with the 9-minute Shaking The Tree. This is a true highlight of the show, with a neat piano-driven groove propelling the song forward while Peter and Co. sing occasionally before Peter uses the song as a chance to introduce his backing band.

Otherwise, the album is quite straightforward, not going past So for its material (with the exception of Solsbury Hill, closing disc 1). The only really major addition to any of the songs comes to Steam, as the introduction is very much in the vein of Quiet Steam, an outtake from the Us sessions. Otherwise, besides a slight slowing of Red Rain that I find kind of regrettable, the other songs on here sound just fine ...

The album isn't ALL peaches and cream, though. I would advise anyone listening to this album to shut it off after Secret World on disc 2, because the rest of the album is murder. Don't Give Up doesn't improve a whit upon its predecessor, and In Your Eyes ... dude, this is AWFUL. I mean, I could more or less tolerate the song on So, but this is just 'ethnic muzak' of the worst kind, and I don't really understand how anybody could tolerate it all the way through. Shaking the Tree had some bounce and energy - this doesn't.

Fortunately, besides those two disasters, I can't complain too badly about the album. Aside from the fact that, except for the rarities, nobody needs it.

Where Passion called upon Peter to fuse his artistic sensibilities to Arabic and Judaic themes, Long Walk Home (naturally) draws heavily upon Aboriginal music ideas, and while I suspected before buying this that Peter wouldn't be able to take on this task without ending up with a generic "sounds of the outback" album, I was deeply mistaken. There's always a definite sense of the music's region of origin, yet the album never shoves a sense of "HEY! THIS IS AUSTRALIA, IF YOU DIDN'T CATCH THAT ALREADY!!" in the listener's face. Whenever a "regional mood" bit comes along, it's only developed long enough to give the listener a frame of reference for the location of the accompanying scene - beyond that, though, the mood and atmosphere lends itself more to the plot, or to the universal theme that is meant to resonate in a particular scene.

So, for instance, the opening Jigalong starts with all sorts of tuneless ambient instrumental parts that, for whatever reason, my mind can immediately equate to a desert area, yet not entirely uninhabited, (it also helps that, even though there's not a single didgeridoo (or however that's spelled) on the track, much of the instrumentation immediately reminds me of them), yet that theme gradually gives way to vaguely epic, optimistic "traditional" keyboard and string themes (with rhythms in the classic Gabriel mode). Or take the next track, the sonic and rhythmic masterpiece Stealing the Children, which alternates between contemplative organ themes with pounding rhythms in the distance, and these EVIL sounding instrumental noises swooping in from the side while legions of percussives go nuts all around my ears - it sets the mood location just fine, but it's the overpowering menace that really makes it memorable.

I have no intention of going through every track, but there is something I'd like to point out about the album. You see, it's only natural that since Peter worked on this soundtrack at the same time he was fine-tuning Up, that some ideas that would later land on Up are shown in bits and pieces here. There isn't a lot of "self-plagiarism" (though I admit it's quite unfair to call it that in this case), but I hear plenty of both Signal to Noise (much of that track's string parts are done in different variations on here) and Sky Blue (especially the ending chantings on that track from the Blind Boys of Alabama). Now, if you scroll down a bit, you'll see me basically dismiss Sky Blue as extraordinarily boring, a claim by which I still stand adamently. However, and this irritates me more than a bit, the use of the ending Sky Blue harmonies in the context of this soundtrack, buoyed by moving string, rhythmic and chanting parts, in a series of killer emotional climaxes is absolutely stunning. Man, if Pete could only have used some of the passion of THIS and put it on Up, maybe I wouldn't feel so indifferent to so much of that album (as you can read below) ... ah well, make no mistake, I'm quite grateful that at least I got these sensations on this album.

In short, this may have slipped under many a fan's radar screens, but this will certainly go down as one of my five favorite Gabriel albums, a terrific soundtrack that (unlike Birdy and Passion, to small degrees) doesn't get boring as it goes on. I mean, it's surprisingly diverse in mood and form, there's plenty of well-timed climaxes ... what more can you ask of an album with no actual "songs"?

Even disregarding those massively overwrought expectations, however, Up is (for me, at least) a giant disappointment. OVO had successfully convinced me that Peter had PLENTY of good material left in him, as that particular album had no less than five indisuptable classics on it (I leave it as an exercise for the reader to determine which tracks I classify as such), and I believed that Up would be no different. Yet on the first listen, I was crushed - as somebody who's utterly adored the majority of Peter's lengthy career, I was disappointed beyond words that one of my all-time favorite musicians sounded so geniunely washed up. The arrangements and production were fine, but for the most part, they seemed to be masking a lack of truly original and good musical ideas. Nothing grabbed me like the opening of Us, none of the tracks seemed like instant classics, and I was genuinely outright bored, a statement I never ever thought I'd say about a Gabriel album.

Subsequent listens, however, at least somewhat changed my perspective. Not completely, but definitely somewhat. The most important thing for me, from a psychological perspective, was that the second listen revealed a track that could stand up to virtually anything in the entire Gabriel catalogue, which in turn told me that, at the very least, he wasn't yet washed up. I'm referring to Growing Up, a track similar to the uptempo numbers on Us but that outdoes even those classics. From the great piano/violin introduction, to Peter's alternately haunting and grooving vocal melodies, to more of those dancable rhythms that are so distinctively Gabriel, to the neat permutations of the main themes that pop up, to the KILLER bassline that pops up in the sixth minute, to the general epic feel that's never overbearing, I'd be very hard-pressed to find reasons that this wouldn't have a solid place in the top ten tracks Peter ever did. Well, ok, I guess I can understand being bugged by the slightly cheezy organ that pops up under Peter's melodies from time to time (and in the coda), but I'm not bothered by it at all, so whatever.

Fortunately, Growing Up is NOT the only good track on the album, as I almost ended up thinking at times in the first few listens. Yet this does not change the fact that I find a slightly alarming amount of filler on the album, and even the tracks that don't qualify as filler manage to have their downsides. First on the list of filler is the track following Growing Up, entitled Sky Blue. There are some nice ideas in the arrangements, and the pleasant wordless singing at the end is a nice touch, but the actual song is neither stocked with good musical ideas nor with emotional resonance nor with anything particularly interesting in the atmosphere. Same goes for I Grieve; superficially it's all moving and emotional, but it continues to strike me as little more than emotional formalism, without anything to really move me.

There's also the issue of the advance single of the album, The Barry Williams Show, which I know for a fact has discouraged a number of people I know from wanting to buy the album. It says something when a song is dated before its official release - I don't like Jerry Springer anymore than most people, but except for the rare cases when he has cripples on the show and pretends to be sympathetic but is really parading them a la a freak show, it's very hard to take anything on the show seriously. Yet Peter doesn't seem to be aware of that, as he presents a snide, vitriolic attack on the premise of the show, acting as if the comical farce is a serious affair. But lyrics aside, the music itself isn't much to write home about either. The chorus (with the one note backing vocals) is as banal as can be, the instrumental breaks reeeally make me squirm and fidget, and while the verse melody is decent at first, it loses its intensity as the track goes on. In short, I'm not sure that a worse choice for a lead single could have been made (the video is kinda amusing, though).

So that's about 30% of the album gone down the drain right away. The rest, though, is at least very good, so the album doesn't turn out as a total disappointment in the end. I actually originally lumped No Way Out in with the filler described previously, but that was before I found the lyrics, which are a well-done tale of a man holding a friend as his the friend's life ebbs away. That doesn't let the song off the hook, though - the best and most moving lyrics in the world aren't worth as much if it's so friggin' hard to make out what Peter's singing just from listening, and while I like the song now, I still have a vague feeling of pissitude because of that initial problem.

Ok, whining's basically over. The other half of the album is just fine as far as I'm concerned, and definitely enough to drive the album up to a high 7. Darkness is a very neat way to start the album, and I'm sure that most listeners will identify with the experience I had hearing it for the first time - the song is very quiet for about 25 seconds, provoking an increase in the volume, and then there's LOUD GUITAR NOISE that flings you across the room. Of course, I wasn't very wowed over at first, as it was hard for me to see the track as much more than an Intruder ripoff (the lyrics follow a similar fear motif). However, I eventually realized that while there are superficial similarities, the aim of the song is different from Intruder - that track left the listener without recourse from the monsters of the world, whereas Darkness is more geared towards facing and overcoming fears. So yeah, it's a solid opener, one that makes good use of its vague Industrial leanings.

The other four tracks are the tracks which close out the album, and they do a good job of leaving a good taste in my mouth come album's end. My Head Sound Like That shows somebody with some mental instability, both musically and lyrically - it's quiet and vaguely unsettling through most of it, then out of nowhere careens into LOUD madness, in the grand tradition of III. More Than This, on the other hand, is much like the uptempo pop numbers from So, only with a slight epic tinge and some nice echoey U2-style guitars. Plus, it has a terrific coda, so even if there isn't much original to it in its essence, I find it very acceptable and enjoyable overall.

Next is the most experimental track on the album by far, the seven-and-a-half minute Signal to Noise. I don't get as excited about the track as a lot of people seem to - I do like the arabesque chanting, but I don't buy into the notion that its very presence makes it better than other kinds of music. Truth be told, I think the chanting is a bit excessive in length, and the proper effect could have been conveyed with half of it. But enough complaining - the track is danged marvelous, with innovative (for rock music, anyway) string parts overlayed on neat percussion, all culminating in the great repeated "RECEIVE AND TRANSMIT" climax that can stay in my head for as long as it wants. Peter's vocal delivery rules, and his pleas to "WIPE OUT THE NOISE" over instrumental parts that are definitely more signal than noise are something to behold.

Of course, in typically perverse fashion, Peter doesn't end with the bombastic string-laden percussive epic, but rather with a pleasant piano-based ballad about falling out of an airplane. I'm not sure whether the people in question are skydiving, or if they're falling because the plane just cracked in two in midair and the people are about to die a miserable death (knowing Peter, it's probably the latter), but no matter. The Drop is perfectly lovely, and the soothing effect of Peter singing the line "watching as the sun goes down" cannot be overestimated.

So there's your album. Inconsistent as hell, laden with some miserable filler, but also with some incredible tracks as well. And hey, let's give credit where credit is due - the production is EXCELLENT, with every instrument given an incredible amount of breathing space and without any sense of artificiality in the sound. If nothing else, Peter shows convincingly on Up that he still knows how to use the latest advances in production technology for good instead of bad, and that's at least worth something. Let's just hope that I/O is as good or better, and that Peter releases it before I have my own ridiculous grey Leninesque beard.