When Poets Dreamed of Angels (SSFD #3)

Back in the late 70s, his first band Japan had too quickly been classified as part of the New Romantics wave, maybe because of its Duran-like dress code. So wrong, there was so much more behind their electronic drums.

When the band dissolved in 1983, David Sylvian started his solo career. I fell deeply in love with his profound voice in 1987, when his Secrets of the beehive shattered all my ideas and schemes about music. His songs were a mix of world, ambient and jazz music, his lyrics constantly drenched into a sort of pagan spirituality. Million miles away from the needs of the business, there was some pure beauty in his work, something that unleashed it from the constraints of time and made it the perfect record for my perfect desert island. It still is, almost thirty years after…

Put your earphones on and enjoy, my friends.

“She rises early from bed, runs to the mirror
The bruises inflicted in moments of fury
He kneels beside her once more, whispers a promise
“Next time, I’ll break every bone in your body”

And the well-wishers let the devil in
If the river ran dry, they’d deny it happening

As the card players deal their hands
From the bottom of the deck
Row upon row of feudal houses blown away
Medicine for the popular complaint

When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
History lined up in a flash at their backs
When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
The bishops and knights well placed to attack”