DAVID SYLVIAN

Brilliant Trees/Alchemy/Gone To Earth/ Secrets Of The Beehive UMC/Virgin EMi

One slight problem caused by the vinyl revolution is that reviewers are operating in advance of release and are often denied the pleasure of reviewing records from actual shiny plastic. That is the case here, with these longawaited reissues of David Sylvian’s first four albums, and while it would obviously have been wonderful to be immersed in the full vinyl experience, it’s more than apparent from the digital audio that these classics have been remastered with the greatest of skill. In truth, even Sylvian’s 1984 solo debut Brilliant Trees sounded stunning first time out; in many ways a logical next step from his work with Japan, it demonstrated the singer’s desire to shoulder-barge boundaries and to get as far away from the common perception that he was, in essence, the thinking man’s Simon Le Bon. Songs like The Ink In The Well and Red Guitar have benefited hugely from remastering, with their slightly sterile 80s production beefed up and made far warmer and tangibly present.

The same trick works wonders on Sylvian’s second record, the experimental and almost arrogantly uncommercial Alchemy – An Index Of Possibilities. An exercise in atmosphere and exploration, rather than anything remotely straightforward, it confused the hell out of Japan fans upon its release in 1985, but as its creator drifted more purposefully into art rock realms, it was precisely the defiant statement he needed to make. Towering finale Steel Cathedrals remains one of Sylvian’s greatest pieces, with Robert Fripp’s guitar and Holger Czukay’s dictaphone (no, really) adding magic to the mesmerising squall. Widely regarded as his real second album, Gone To Earth had proper songs such as Taking The

Veil and Silver Moon, but owed far more to Alchemy’s world of meandering textures than to Brilliant Trees’ slick grooves. Now sounding fuller and brighter than ever before, the album’s hazy second half is a particularly rich revelation.

Best of the lot, and arguably still the greatest thing Sylvian has ever produced, Secrets Of The Beehive was already flawless and sonically beautiful and hardly needed retouching. That said, the likes of Orpheus and Mother And Child, replete with Danny Thompson’s unmistakable upright rumble, may now be even more likely to make otherwise stoic folk cry hysterical tears of joy. It seems possible that Sylvian clocked exactly how brilliant his fourth album was and felt he couldn’t top it, veering off into further collaborations with Czukay and, in recent times, warped, wayward records like 2009’s Manafon. But back in the 80s, he was a pop artist with a prog heart and Secrets was (and is) his masterpiece.

OTHERWISE STOIC FOLK MAY CRY HYSTERICAL TEARS OF JOY.