On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno [Hardcover]

Well written, very entertaining, full of gossip and a nice selection of photos. I have the feeling a lot of Eno-facts have already been aired elsewhere (like the infamous meeting of Eno with Bryan Ferry on the stairs at Elton John's Christmas party soon after he left Roxy Music). The descriptions of the first four vocal solo albums are illuminating and done largely in a track by track fashion: read how that sublime album Another Green World came togther. Eno was so prolific in the late 70s/early 80s that this book is invaluable in working out when he did what. There's plenty of insight into the relationship with Talking Heads (makes a good read) and not so much on U2 (which is also good, in a way). Tina Weymouth's take on David Byrne and Eno buddying up, to the extent of wearing similar clothes and smoking the same brand of cigarettes, is a hoot. But most people have nothing but praise for Eno, though Gavin Bryars is rather loathe to ascribe any musical talent to Eno, in no small part I'll be bound due to a question of unpaid royalties for his releases on Eno's Obscure label. An interesting side of Eno that comes out from the experience of Bryars and others is Eno's ability (perhaps unconscious) to take over a project. Thus, Bryars is instrumental in forming the Portsmouth Sinfonia, but then sees their star rise due to their involvement with Eno and the press attention that his stardom in Roxy Music brought with it, to the extent where PS end up effectively seen as Eno's latest pet project! New York avant garde trumpeter Jon Hassell also sees his ideas for making afro-centric ambient music edged out and submerged into what became Byrne and Eno's "My life in the bush of ghosts". And sometimes, Eno appears to have been downright devious, as in sorting out the writing credits for Talking Heads' Remain in Light album.

Unlike a friend of mine, who thinks Eno stopped being interesting in about 1981, I love Eno's later ambient works. But it seems that either Sheppard can't write expansively about later albums or isn't really interested enough to do so, so the last 25 years of Eno's career occupy perhaps a quarter of the book. Admittedly, it's harder to write about a sparce 60 minute solo piece like "Neroli" than AGW with its 14 tracks and multiple guest musicians. The Drop, which isn't such a bad album of juju space jazz in my books, or the Curiosities 1 and 2 collections of studio outtakes that feature "Captain" Bob Fripp, have tracks that could easily have been described in some detail, for sure. The engineer who collated the Curiosities volumes could have been tapped for insight into why certain tracks made the cut. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Eno's recent return to a vocal album, Another Day on Earth, merits a more substantial track-by-track dissection. A key omission, I think, is that there's no description for the curious of the missing tracks from the famously unreleased My Squelchy Life album. Few of those tracks have subsequently emerged through conventional channels. And why won't Eno release Seven Deadly Finns or The Lion Sleeps Tonight through iTunes? I think we should be told. There's also little of a technical nature describing Eno's approach to generative music, nor much information on his favourite synths/software/studio gear beyond the famous "Putney" VCS3 from the Roxy days. I suspect though that, like my friend, most people are interested in the Roxy days, the first four vocal albums and the collaborations with Bowie, John Cale and TH, and this book certainly delivers in those areas.

Good to see that Fabers have binned that pastel hued dust jacket in favour of something a little more in tune with the subject of the book.

The book is excellent up until Eno starts working with U2, whereupon it speeds up, and we race through Eno's career to the present day. The book doesn't go into much detail about Eno's projects in this period; it reads like "Eno did x, then he did y, and then spent some time doing z". As other reviewers here have noted, this may be because the author doesn't think Eno's later work is worthy of the same attention as his earlier output.

I'd have liked a bit more coverage of Eno's work in the visual arts. This is dealt with in the book, but only superficially.

To end on a positive note, I'd add that while I've followed the Enomeister's activities fairly closely over the past 30 odd years, there were plenty of things about the great man that I learnt in this book.

You have to laugh at the irony here: Eno's output is thoughtful, designed, and often inspiring. And here he is being biographed by someone who can't write a non-annoying sentence.

I don't blame author David Sheppard for this, but the poor little lamb should have been offered the services of an editor ffs.

"A nose for the Zeitgeist" You what, mate?

"His colourful eclectic calling and propinquity to the superstar elite..." Speak English mate. That's what it's there for.

"The Eno pate has rarely dipped below the parapet since he first piqued public interest..." Ah, that old piqued interest parapet pate dipping conundrum, eh.

"...a lachrymose slice..."

On an on Sheppard goes, like a sixth former with a thesaurus trying to fill up as much space as possible. The words erstwhile and ostensible crop up a lot for some reason, probably because the author thought they sounded suitably grown up and Late Review -ish.

We're told the word dilettante is an adjective. Not only that, says Sheppard, it's a pejorative adjective. Back to English Language O level class for you Sheppard me old mucker.

But while the prose style is utter guff, Sheppard's book manages - somehow - to keep the reader engaged. Perhaps it's all a big po-mo joke and Eno has written this biography? I wouldn't put it past him.

If you're a fan of Eno this is a book you have to check out, but read A Year With Swollen Appendices: The Diary of Brian Eno first.

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[this review refers to the Kindle edition which for some reason renders all instances of the letter z in upper case]