AMAROK

What do a giant wolf in Inuit mythology, a large truck manufactured by Volkswagen, audio software, a Spanish band, and Mike Oldfield's hour-long opus have in common? They are all called Amarok. And as this term has many definitions, so does that last entry contain a variety of musical styles and nuances. While Oldfield is noted for his eclecticism, this time he falls short in making that diversity work to his (and the listener's) advantage. The piece lacks compositional integrity- it is a hodgepodge of musical ideas thrown in a giant kettle; were this a culinary presentation, it would be a twelve-course meal where most of the courses don't work with what came before. This uninterrupted dinner is in need of several palette-cleansers, as it were. The transitions, when they exist, are uninspired at best. It is also a shame that Oldfield kept his cheap, thin guitar tone even though better possibilities were certainly available to him by 1990. Another thing of note is that there is a lack of bass presence throughout most of the work. Had Oldfield chosen a more acoustic approach (because, along with the African vocals, the acoustic guitar work is the best aspect of the album), crafted better transitions, and laid off the numerous upsetting electronic intrusions, he would have created a piece more or less on par with Ommadawn. But I suppose that's what sometimes happens when, rather than bow to the commercialism of a record label, one aims to piss it off- being purposely unmarketable does not automatically make one a musical genius at a given point in one's career.

"Amarok" The piece juxtaposes some fine acoustic guitar chugging with bizarre synthetic blasts and wet fart noises it could have done without. Those appreciating Jon Anderson's Olias of Sunhillow might love the first several minutes were it not for those ear-splitting interruptions and the occasional mechanical vocal. The various synthetic bits become even more disrespectful, as though someone wanted to make fun of the worst 1980s technology had to offer. When the music is peaceful, it is good, such as the nine-and-a-half-minute mark, when the synthesizer lead, tribal percussion and guitars sound wonderful together- a pity it falls right into another mechanized vocal romp. Eventually things morph into a bright piano and banjo tune- cheerful and quite enjoyable. A quarter of an hour in, the music becomes downright cartoonish, with all manner of irritatingly whimsical sounds. One of the best parts of the piece follows- intense acoustic guitar and banjo provide a bed for soft lead musings that sound similar to Greg Lake's lead guitar in Tarkus. Soon, the piece adopts a flamenco style, with pulsating Spanish rhythms, and is eventually provided with more unwelcome synthetic detonations. Midway through, the music becomes breathy and celestial again, and then abruptly, I feel like I've died and gone to the circus. When things become tribal again, Oldfield's guitar tone hurts my ears- it shrieks and squeals in a way a guitar shouldn't. Light, Irish folk music later ensues. After forays into previously explored styles, Oldfield pauses, and returns to Jon Anderson-like African-inspired music, with a pleasant Xhosa choir courtesy of Jabula. The roaring vocal is distracting, reminiscent of the Piltdown Man from Tubular Bells (though thankfully more restrained). The actress Janet Brown (who passed only a few months ago) makes an appearance on this album, impersonating Margaret Thatcher. The glorious ending is indeed inspiring and remarkable- would that the whole piece were so stirring.