Before the chaos of digital audio, there was the warm magic of tape and analog circuitry. Before sampling, there was found sound flown by hand from running and manipulated reel to reel, songs built with both precision and serendipity. My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts, by Brian Eno and David Byrne with Jon Hassell, was born from before, created the present and expands the future.
Recorded in 1979/1980, released in 1981, remastered in 2005, re-released in 2006… this work still sounds like nothing else, before or since. The gloopy miasma of Mea Culpa, the dark-delay funk of Regiment, the island jam micro-eclectica of Help Me, Somebody, the harrowing demon-throw of a woman possessed by The Jezebel Spirit, the slow, bass conversation entrainment of Moonlight In Glory, the vibrating temple air of A Secret Life, the tear-drying dawn of Mountain Of Needles… all these tracks surround and entangle my/our/their multiple histories with a shared present. Anachronisms from decades past, bits of scavenged vocals are given context by the music and the present each listener occupies.
I listen, and they speak.
My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts has lived as soundtrack to my life during so many important moments, each song has acquired layers of often opposing memories and meaning. Unlike most other sonic works, which become permeated with a time and place and stubbornly refuse to release, these songs continue to grow as I do. Very few works I’ve not created myself have this property for me.
The 2005 remastering has exposed the grained detail for further emotions to bind. I’m hearing aspects of this recording I never guessed existed. Add the excellent rough out-takes and unreleased tracks cut for time from the original vinyl pressing (Pitch To Voltage, Number 8 Mix are my favorites tonight), and My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts may last me well into the 2100s.
“…Brian, Jon, and I fantasized about making a series of recordings based on an imaginary culture… Our idea was to make the record and try to pass it off anonymously as the genuine article. This appealed for a number of reasons—it had a lovely Borges-like quality, like one of his stories in which an encyclopedia is discovered that describes a hitherto-unknown land. It also appealed, I suspect, partly because it would make us as “authors” more or less invisible. In our imaginings we’d release a record with detailed liner notes explaining the way music functioned in that culture and how it was produced…” -David Byrne with Brian Eno, April 2005
