Tuxedomoon's album Desire, released in 1981, is like an alluring ghost who waltzes with mystery in a dimly lit room, where post-punk and experimental sounds converge. This San Francisco band, known for their avant-garde approach, created an eclectic masterpiece that blended electronic soundscapes with punk's raw edge. Created during a time of heightened political and social tension, Desire captures the uncertainty and unfiltered emotion of a world in flux. With tracks that range from haunting melodies to abstract sound experiments, the album stands as a testament to the willingness of musicians to break free from the mainstream and forge their own path.
Tuxedomoon, formed in 1977 by Blaine L. Reininger and Steven Brown, was driven by an urge to smash boundaries and break the mold. They emerged from the punk scene, but their taste often wandered far beyond, exploring jazz, classical, and electronic influences. Desire channels their sonic curiosity, creating a tapestry that feels as innovative now as it did then. Recorded in the vibrant city of Brussels, the album reflects a city renowned for its avant-garde culture, where experimentalism wasn’t just embraced, it was expected.
It's possible that for those who weren't around during the era, or those who haven’t explored beyond top-40 hits, Tuxedomoon's sound might first seem esoteric or even aloof. But therein lies its beauty. The band wasn't attempting to tread the well-worn paths of radio-friendly beats or manufactured hooks. Instead, they invited listeners into their world of imagination and reflection, a place where music served as both canvas and kaleidoscope.
The album kicks off with “East/Jinx”, an eleven-minute epic that feels like a journey through a fever dream. It offers layers that build upon each other, demonstrating the band's propensity for crafting intricate soundscapes. There's an undeniable sparseness and density, a dichotomy that's as intriguing as it is disorienting. Tuxedomoon orchestrates its sounds with a level of precision that feels deliberate, urging listeners to question the relationship between chaos and control.
Tracks like “Incubus (Blue Suit)” further traverse emotional and sensory realms. The song encapsulates a foreboding aura, giving rise to a somber ambiance that’s both ethereal and haunting. Here, they blend synthesized melodies with sharp contrasts, offering a piece that's less a song and more a vivid, sonically-driven memory.
Though formed in the wake of punk's rise, the Tuxedomoon experience wasn't merely a continuation of that sound. It was more of a response. Punk had carved out the space to say, 'we want to be different,' but Tuxedomoon went further by saying, 'different must be multi-dimensional and surreal.' Their use of avant-garde elements set the stage for future generations of genre-bending artists. It's evident their influence ripples through the works of groups and musicians who refuse to be pigeonholed.
Politically, the album emerges from an era when the disillusionment was palpable. The late '70s and early '80s were riddled with economic decline, Cold War fears, and a rebirth of civil rights activism. Music, in many ways, was a mirror for the times, and within Desire lies a palpable yearning for something more—a desire not just literally, but metaphorically. Here, the medium of music becomes a form of protest, a call to arms for those seeking solace in a complex, often hostile world.
Yet, while Desire strongly projects its defiance through its experimental edge, it also offers room for reflection and silence. It spends time in melancholy that mirrors the personal and political anguish of its era. It's an album that speaks not just to ghettos of thoughts but reaches across the aisles, inviting reflection from all corners of the ideological compass. There's power in bridging understanding through art.
Some might argue that such music is an acquired taste—a sentiment that's fair, considering it challenges conventions. The same critics who readily deplore it for its abstract nature might miss its point entirely, but that's the price of music that demands more than passive listening. It extends a lifeline to those feeling disconnected from mainstream discourse, reassuring them that art can serve as a rebellion's softer whisper rather than a megaphone's roar.
As we listen back today, Tuxedomoon's work continues to represent a niche yet vital conversation in the world of music. It draws us back into the context in which it was created and helps us see our present through another lens. It's an invitation to question not just how music defines culture but how culture consumes—and sometimes rejects—music that dares to question. If you’ve ever stood at the intersection of nostalgia and novelty, Tuxedomoon’s Desire sits comfortably at the crossroads, teaching us that sometimes the most enlightening journey is off the beaten track.