When Peter Gabriel last released a whole album of original material, my son was in his first year of life on this precious planet. As I write these words in the short period after the release of i/o, said offspring has been staying with us for a few days break, grown into adulthood and is six foot five tall. As a gestation, this album takes some beating. An African elephant (no doubt Gabriel has used some of this creature’s sounds in recordings past) has an average gestation of 660 days, something which is a flash period compared to this work, although to add some balance to these comments, we should point out that his wife became quite seriously ill for a period, and Gabriel ceased all work on this project to care for her. Thankfully, she is recovered.

So, the somewhat obvious question to ask is, was it worth the wait?

Well, yes, I think so. I am not going to play the game of “Peter’s best album since”. What I will say is this. I thoroughly enjoyed 2002’s Up, a natural follow on to 1992’s Us, and i/o in so many ways is the same, the sound of a seminal art rock artist pushing his musical horizons further than the last work, but still very recognisable in sound and style, perhaps unsurprisingly as many of the tracks had their initial ideas in the period between Us & Up.

Firstly, the voice. My introduction to solo Gabriel was as a callow teenager on 1980’s PG III (Melt). There were a few of us in school utterly hooked on prog, as opposed to the overwhelming majority who went with the radio and press dominated culture of post punk new wave and the emerging new romantics movement, and we debated in that geeky schoolboy way the true meaning of I Don’t Remember endlessly, looked up what happened to Kennedy, and became anti-apartheid activists overnight. The 73-year-old voice of that artist who so thrilled us is in fine form and seems to have lost very little of its range and power, unlike some of his contemporaries.

As with the previous couple of albums, there is a tangible link to his formative years as the visually stunning frontman of Genesis, in that the album notes are filled with art and thought-provoking images designed to connect the listener with the music. The album also brings the welcome return of longtime Gabriel collaborators Tony Levin, who played on the very first post-Genesis album, David Rhodes, and Brian Eno alongside the returning Manu Katché on drums. His talented daughter Melanie, who was simply brilliant on the last tour of new music all that time ago, contributes vocals. A special mention as well to a talented multi-instrumentalist collaborator, Katie May.

There are two CDs, but, typically for the great man, it is not as simple as it being a double album. What we have instead are two mixes of the same songs (widely trailed, incidentally, every full moon since the start of the year), namely bright side by Mark “Spike” Stent and dark side by Tchad Blake (there are, as well, “in-Side mixes” by Hans-Martin Buff not on this CD). This review would be too long if I discussed all twelve songs twice over. My personal sonic preference is for the dark side mixes, as I think they are closer to the “classic” Gabriel sound, but my discussion of the music does not differentiate.

So, we open with Panopticom (this a play on a word), a haunting number dealing with one of his latest technological ideas, the creation of an infinitely expandable accessible data globe. Trademark Gabriel voice and some gorgeous chords introduce us to the work, with keys and grooves very reminiscent of the dark and sonically heavy work on Signal to Noise from Up, although away from this, Panopticom is far catchier (older owners of So & Us will recognise the Sledgehammer & Digging in the Dirt chord references) with a definite eye and ear on airplay. It is, in fact, the first of quite a few examples here of the type of earworm Gabriel has always been so good at producing, tracks whose chords and funk driven rock stick in your mind. Lyrically, Gabriel’s questing search for technological knowledge has not changed at all.

The Court follows. The photography in the sleeve by Steve Tanner of “The Burning of Lifting the Curse” of Tim Shaw’s sculpture is striking – take a look at the story at https://www.animamundigallery.com/news/2022/12/7/tim-shaws-the-burning-of-lifting-the-curse-takes-place Anima Mundi, the intrinsic connection between all living beings, and another of Gabriel’s longstanding fascinations. The Court passes judgement on our misguided modern society, with bankers snorting their pleasure whilst wider society suffers. This is a dramatic song, Gabriel alternating between judgemental spoken voice and sung theme. The percussion work is stunning, Eno adds some widescreen textures, and Levin throbs beneath it all.

The New Blood Orchestra featured on Gabriel’s reimagining’s twelve years ago and return here for Playing for Time and then throughout the album. This is essentially a downbeat jazz number, and I love Tom Cawley’s piano work alongside some striking orchestration on the synths. The video is embedded below – I don’t think Gabriel has ever sounded so good, his voice still oozing with emotion in a track I believe refers to his love’s illness and musings on growing older. It is extremely moving and clearly rather personal, with the final 90 seconds anthemic.

The title track follows this work of beauty. The chorus is the next of those infernal earworms he produces for us. I love the presence of The Soweto Gospel Choir, reinforcing those South African links I referred to in my preface to this review. The opening vocals are quite fragile before that is blown away by “i/o, i/o, coming out, going in” in a track which refers to us being a part of a whole, living, learning, participating. To these ears, a highlight of a career, not just this album or this year. It is quite superb, one of those songs he has done so well over the years that sort of creeps up on you and takes you over without you ever really being particularly conscious of it.

On Four Kinds of Horses, some of the programming effects and Levin’s brooding bass work are quite disturbing, and Gabriel’s voice does nothing to dispel this mood. Melanie’s vocal contribution supporting her father is especially strong on this in a commentary on religion, demagoguery, violence, and the human condition. Thoughtful and extremely good, this track will please all of you who admired Gabriel’s initial plunge into this type of mood on Lead A Normal Life back on Melt, because there is a linear link between that and this piece.

On Road to Joy, the manipulated guitar of Eno is striking, whilst the programming is again dominant with its incessant beats and grooves in a song which is so like stuff such as Big Time and Kiss That Frog. As such, I find it fun, I find it clever, I find it groovy, but it is not particularly memorable.

So Much slows the pace down considerably and is a return to the brooding voice and mood I have always enjoyed in his music in a commentary on our limitations as human beings growing old and there being so little time to achieve all we want to achieve, growing old to be a baby. The keys of Gabriel, bass by Levin, guitar by Rhodes, some incredible orchestration (especially the brass a la Ovo) and Melanie’s evocative backing vocals create a simply beautiful song which I think is as good as it gets.

Olive Tree opens in a meandering fashion, thoughtful before the track explodes with some superb jazz/funk sounds of the trumpet and sax leading Gabriel trying to make sense of where he and we are going from here. Katché excels himself here and this track takes you over, full of differing moods, tempo, and the mandolin especially enveloping your senses with the last forty seconds something that Peter’s old soul and bandmate Mr Collins would have been deeply happy with releasing, although one senses that Gabriel won’t get the same level of opprobrium.

Love Can Heal is a sparser song without orchestra or choir, and I think the difference here between the mixes is prominent. The song is a tribute to Jo Cox, the Labour Member of Parliament who was shockingly and terribly murdered on the streets of her constituency. She was a brave and decent politician, and we need more of her ilk. Can love heal? I hope so, and I think that more of the world listening to this mournful and deeply moving song, especially Linnea Olsen’s cello and the complex percussion by Ged Lynch, would help. Embedded below, this is incredibly good.

This Is Home is more commercial with some deep grooves and is simply a love song harking not just to his family and home, but also the roots of Gabriel’s musical core alongside modern production techniques and some orchestration added to the Tamla mix.

And Still is the longest piece on the album, just short of eight minutes long. As a background to this staggering piece of music, one of my all-time favourite tracks is Father, Son, which first featured on the millennium show album, Ovo, and then on the live DVD of the Up tour, Growing Up. I play it to both my father and son, as a reminder of the power of music to mean something, to prick emotions, to make us better people, as opposed to the commercial rubbish inherent in much corporate music (incidentally, that does not mean pop music – I love good pop music). This track is for his late mother. Megan Rooney’s art on the sleeve is extremely evocative. I have embedded the video below. No further words necessary. Just drink in this cello, the love of a son and the memory of a human being who was so special to him.

Live and Let Live closes proceedings, the second of the seven minutes plus tracks. It is a song of forgiveness, a cry for peace, a reminder of the innate violence within us as a race, but a call to mature and move on from it, something I personally pray for most nights. How much does it take to let go of the pain? The bright side mix is, perhaps, the more effective at putting across a message of hope amongst the pain, and I have, therefore, embedded that version below. Gabriel has rarely sounded better, and the intricate orchestration pushes along the track in the manner of the Soundsuit created by Nick Cave on the sleeve. As important to these ears as Biko or Wallflower were when I was forming my personal worldview, evoking the intent behind the formation of The Elders. “Be brave enough to listen, live and let live”.

If we must wait another twenty-one years, the old lad will be 94. i/o is the sound of one of the most original artists this country has ever produced still sounding vital and relevant, still making music which can touch the soul and the mind, still defying the naysayers. For that, we should be thankful. This album is not merely “avoiding an embarrassment”, as many have said, for example, of releases by Yes & Tull in 2023, it is bloody good and something I will be playing well beyond the moments I write these words.

Previous
Previous

Glorious Wolf - Mysterious Traveler

Next
Next

Cyan - Pictures from the Other Side