Twelve sheets of foolscap donít ask me why

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Put a straw under baby, your good deed for the day

Going to Google for ďbrian eno gay sexualityĒ I was disconcerted to find an entry of mine had someone become the first listing. Eno was mentioned only in passing, nothing about his sexuality. But I did confirm my expectation that fey manner and makeup aside Eno is straight.

The joy in Enoís lyrics was that they had no discernable meaning. If baby had been on fire itíd have been better to wrap her in a blanket than throw her in the water.

Burning airlines give you so much more

Enoís capriciousness was charming. To weigh it down with a little lead maybe the meaningless of the cosmos found a mirror in the playful arbitrariness of Enoís lyrics.

Not that such idiotic notions were on my mind when listening to Here Come the Warm Jets, Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy and the rest. While I smiled at the lyrics my body swayed with the sound.

The Fat Lady of Limbough looked at the samples we sent and furrowed her brow.

Music For Airports came along and my romance with Enoís music ended. His explanation of arbitrary background sound was perhaps too pedantic. Mostly the music wasnít funny.

I think the last Eno LP that I enjoyed was After the Heat (with Joachim Rodelius). There was some bit about becoming a part of the machinery that resonated with my machine loving self. And from Low, one of the LPs he did with TGWCC, Warsawawa always seemed like a powerful modern hymn.

When I started listening to electronica and heard KLFís Chill Out I developed a small taste for ambient music. I own Music for Airportss now but donít play it often. Thereís an inescapable contradiction in music written to be ignored.

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