Why Brian Eno described his classic ambient records as “bisexual”
The question of what culture might look like without Brian Eno is a complex one with many layers. What’s undeniable, however, is that through his work with Roxy Music, his pioneering of ambient music, and his revolutionary approach to record production, Eno has singlehandedly propelled sonic innovation forward. From Aphex Twin to Radiohead, David Bowie to Talking Heads, countless subsequent innovators have built their platforms—or significant parts of them—on the foundations laid by Eno.
One of Eno’s ultimate masterstrokes is that he intellectualised music. Even in Roxy Music, he blurred lines musically and aesthetically transgressed apropos the era’s spirit and, in some ways, ahead of it. After he left the band of art students in 1973, he had already achieved a lot. The group put a substantial and deeply artful spin on popular music by fusing it with the avant-garde, as typified by the likes of ‘Re-Make/Re-Model’ and ‘Do the Strand’.
However, that was just the beginning. Starting with his 1974 debut, Here Come the Warm Jets, he moved away from straight-up rock and into a minimal realm. This led to him pioneering ambient music in 1975’s Another Green World, which was then followed up by more cerebral, refined moments of pure sonic hypnosis, such as Ambient 1: Music for Airports and Music for Films.
One thing that underpinned Eno’s transformative shift into ambient was the idea of sexuality in music. Although there was a distinctly sexual edge in the Roxy Music days, with him and frontman Bryan Ferry donning androgynous looks, he defines this as still being masculine due to the vocals and type of music, which is why he moved away from it in his solo career. He said that since leaving them, his music has always been travelling away from masculine characteristics to feminine ones, a point that reflects his intellectualising music.
Speaking to The Complete Music Magazine in 1982, Eno said: “There’s a correspondence between raspiness in voice and male dominance in society. The more raspy the voice is, the more repressed the feminine element of the society is. Societies that have a strong choral tradition normally have a strong feminine tradition as well. Now in my music I’ve been moving more and more away from the raspy, angry voice and towards choral voices–not just actual voices but sets of instruments that melt together rather than retain their distinction–that’s what we call choral. This melting music, choral melting, it feels nicer, it looks more interesting. I like it more.”
Significantly, Eno said that he thinks his ambient masterpieces, Discreet Music and Music for Airports, are bisexua”: “I think it’s pretty bisexual, that’s what I think.”
Asked whether he felt like he was heading more into the feminine areas of music in 1982, Eno maintained that he started off in a masculine area, despite his look, and that his art had moved so far away from it that he was then looking to start stripping back the thrills or harsh noises from it. You might call it pure minimalism. He explained: “Every event either obscures another event or obscures silence, so you may as well leave as much out of everything as you can. Have a minimum.” That was one example of the feminine, he said, before noting that some musical choices are hard to explain.
In his typically intellectual style, Eno then delved into the minutiae of vowels’ sexuality, and the type of society that produces them. He knows it sounds ridiculous, but nuances such as these underpin the brilliance of his ambient work. I’d like to ask Radiohead about their work’s sexuality, I’m sure their answer would be equally as compelling.
