Brian Eno- Reflection

Reflection

Brian Eno

Warp Records 2017

Listen on Spotify

There’s a certain utility associated with ambient music, a very specific and intentional purpose underlying the magnificent drones that echo throughout a minimalist work. It thrives when it’s tucked away from focus and into the shadows of our surroundings, functioning as a type of auditory filter that shapes our perceptions and feelings. No one understands this better than Brian Eno, the man that channeled his own artistic curiosity into the beautiful and pensive genre described above. Despite finding himself in the fifth decade of his career, Eno has demonstrated once more that he isn’t running out of ideas, with his new record Reflection serving as a musical experiment for a sophisticated form of generative music, connecting the listener with memories and feelings of the past.

This place that Eno leads us to with his 54 minute (and one second) composition, a meditative thinking space of sorts, actually calls for more than just a momentary disruption from the present. In fact, one could argue there’s nothing more present than removing the ordinary distraction and chaos around us, eventually becoming enveloped by the stripped-down sounds of the music and doing the same within our minds. Don’t think for a second that he wasn’t intentional with this component of Reflection. A refreshing voice (often critically) that identifies the deterioration of humanity, goodness, and creativity, Eno holds a deep-rooted belief in the ability of his art to call us back to something more simple and just. Its unparalleled ability to alter one’s consciousness and introduce feelings make it feel necessary, while acknowledging that a naturally more functional framework minimizes the amount of innovation that can be introduced in a finite space. Eno recognizes his ability to use his artform to make people more accountable and self-aware of the places they’ve been and where they might be going.

From the genius of 1975’s Discreet Music, to the sustained success of his four part ambient series of the 1980s, and even with more recent releases like The Ship, Brian Eno has shown his knack for sonic discovery. Collaborations with larger-than-life figures like David Bowie and Robert Fripp, and even more recently the likes of U2 and Coldplay, display just how sought after his thought-process and approach can be. However, Reflection isn’t simply meant to fall in line with his previous ambient work- its purpose is much more clear.  Eno stated that he aimed to create “a psychological space that encourages internal conversation.” His technique, he posits, resembles that of a farmer, settling into the niche that his music occupies and cultivating it, finding more and more value over time. While it may, at first, seem to unfold effortlessly, each component of the collective sound of the track represents a choice by Eno to manipulate his masterpiece. This could mean the introduction of a resonance, a pitch change every sixteenth note, or even the brightness of a sporadically striking tone. The piece naturally evokes feelings of nostalgia, calamity, uncertainty, and even regret, clearly finding a type of value in shifting one’s focus from forward to back.

The newfound auditory lens of this piece introduces important emotions, with each revolution of the cyclical sounds shifting just enough for you to notice. The understated minimalism and simplicity of its melody provides the psychological space he was looking for, while a meandering hum pulls the listener in an out of the trance of contemplation. Brooding undertones emerge  from the depths of the piece after eight minutes to push it forward, introducing a sense of purpose without sounding in a hurry. As the reverberating tones reach a lull, spacey swells step forward at the fourteen minute mark, lingering and extending into perpetuity, mirroring the consciousness of the listener that finds itself reaching backward into the daunting but rewarding task of self-reflection. A remarkably climactic moment comes eleven minutes later, as the deep drones return only to become interwoven with another sequence of swells; a wonderfully crafted soundscape that quickly disappears into the abyss as the listener is dragged back into the quiet coo of a xylophone.

The temptation might be to call this work extraterrestrial, as likely to be formed in space than in the confines of our planet. Upon more careful consideration, there’s something much larger preventing it from feeling foreign- our own memories and reflections. If the name of Eno’s latest foray into ambient music sounds too straightforward, don’t overthink things. Reflection’ title and purpose function one in the same. It doesn’t drop your jaw, it opens your mind. I just might prefer it that way.