Ambient music is having a moment.
More than ever we just can’t be bothered to cue an album and listen with intention. The many permutations of the broad ambient genre seem to find homes in the popular sleep, chill, and focus options in a panoply of playlists now called “mood music”.
I didn’t develop a taste for ambient music until pretty recently. I only listened to Brian Eno’s seminal Music for Airports for the first time about three years ago.
Just recently, I started thinking about my exposure to ambient-adjacent music in my developmental years, and it started to explain a few things about why my music is the way it is.
My earliest interest in music coincided with the heyday of pop: the early 80’s. I’m talking Duran Duran’s Rio, Michael Jackson’s Thriller, David Bowie’s Let’s Dance, Depeche Mode’s Some Great Reward, Prince’s Purple Rain. I wore out these records and cassettes.
But there were albums on the periphery—albums that I didn’t buy—that I enjoyed quite a bit. For starters we played George Winston in the living room a lot. He had a string of solo piano albums in the early 80’s, inspired loosely by the seasons: Autumn, Winter into Spring, and December. I associate these albums with weekends, brunch, people over, sun streaming through the windows.
I particularly loved the cover for December: the paper birch trees reminded me of the cluster of the same trees we had in our own yard for a number of years. I recalled how I peeled the shedding bark as a child, just to while away the time outside.
Today I enjoy these albums for the nostalgia and memories, but the thin, bright piano sound and Winston’s aggressive and precise style makes the more dynamic tracks less appealing to my modern ears and my fondness of imperfection. These stylistic preferences tend to be cyclical: so I’m sure that bright piano is making a comeback right now. How could it not?
Next up Kitaro - Silk Road. It’s possible this cassette was brought into the household by to my dad. He was looking to Self-help and New Age sources to help make sense of his life at that time. Silk Road had a modern New Age sheen to its instrumentation, and major key flute leads that were both humble and soaring. Because Silk Road was a soundtrack for a NHK/CCTV/PBS documentary series The Silk Road, a few tracks (“Shourou”, “Choujou”, “Bosatsu”) were more cues than songs: synthesizer jams that just settled into an atmosphere. These were probably the first true ambient tracks I encountered and enjoyed as a child. To me they weren’t that far off from the 80’s synthesizer-based new wave music I craved.
Lastly Enya - Watermark. This album landed as the 80’s were drawing to a close. “Orinoco Flow” announced itself with fanfare on our morning radio dial, in heavy rotation. It sounded like nothing else. Here again we have these very bright string sounds, almost like pizzicato orchestra plucks, but icier. This was when CD adoption was starting to hit a critical mass, and crisp, digital sound was trending. A thin piano blended right in, and the bass mixed at a whisper. This left room for the timpani-style percussion during the chorus, really driving it home. It was weird and memorable. You might find yourself humming “sail away, sail away, sail away,” carelessly after hearing it.
Honestly, I didn’t like it at first—it reminded me of the cheesy Calgon “take me away” bath powder commercials of the time. This was a punchline for 1980’s boys. It was Enya’s ballads that I fell for, and Watermark’s tracklist was mostly ballads.
Enya carved out a niche in music all to herself. It might be described as part Celtic, part devotional, part chant, part lullaby, part New Wave pop, and part New Age. In fact Watermark ended up becoming a cornerstone for the burgeoning New Age genre, a runaway commercial success with over 11 million copies sold worldwide.
So, how do these albums from the 80’s explain anything about my music today? I think they imprinted on me at a formative time. Of the many memories I formed over the decades, some of the most indelible are from this time period.
On a more stylistic note, all three of these artists place an emphasis on melody in their compositions. I aim to do that too.
George Winston was content to present works for solo piano in a series, such as his trilogy based on the seasons. The series concept really drives what I do. Working in batches has always appealed to me. First came Field Reports, then Soundwalks, and now Listening Spot Suites. They are similar, but different in their approach. Likewise the instrumentation is simple, on average utilizing just two instruments for any movement in the compositions.
Kitaro used warm-toned synthesizers alongside acoustic instruments, and in the case of Silk Road, strung songs together seamlessly with segue pieces that prioritized atmosphere, allowing the song cycle to breathe. He also occasionally used nature sounds in his compositions. Same here.
At the core of Enya’s highly produced songs are simple, expressive performances without the aid of a click track. Watermark feels so very reflective. It’s a feeling I strive for.
Lastly all three made music that seemed rooted to a sense of place. I believe in the power of place.