David Sylvian, Dead Bees on a Cake (Virgin) 9
Dead Bees On A Cake sounds like a momentous conclusion to a long, strange trip. One that began with the laughably pretentious but good-humored new wave band, Japan, through a couple overly earnest 80s solo ventures, collaborations with Can's Holger Czukay and King Crimson's Robert Fripp, and a five year hiatus that involved a move to California and tutelage from a variety of spiritual teachers. This sounds like a script for a rock parody, but the album earns respect through the sheer force of its music. The absurdities of life are reconciled with tasteful understatement. I'm not talking about bland post-prog noodling here. Sylvian has chosen stellar guests to realize his musical rebirth, including Talvin Singh, Bill Frisell, Ryuichi Sakamoto and Marc Ribot, who gives "Midnight Sun" a rakish blues saunter that recalls Ribot's work with Tom Waits. "Krishna Blue" evokes a stark desert setting which, after six minutes, peaks into a propulsively cinematic image of Arabic nomads marching through your tent. Deepak Ram's Indian flute and Singh's tablas lend a middle-eastern texture to that song, and to "All of My Mother's Names," an atmospheric, tribal stew with distant, spacey Miles Davis horns and organ fills that breaks into a post-bebop John McLaughlin/Mahavishnu Orchestra-like guitar skronkfest courtesy of Ribot. Close consideration of the lyrics can give you the uncomfortable feeling that you're about to be converted to Buddhism, but all can be forgiven on the strength of "Dobro #1," a brief, spare glimpse into endless interstellar beauty.
