“St. Elmo’s Fire” – Brian Eno
(Words/music: Brian Eno, available on Another Green World, Island 1975)
I love “St. Elmo’s Fire” because it sounds like a beautiful, other-worldly creature. The title references a specific weather phenomenon that I’ll link to rather than trying to explain. It kind of looks like purplish, static generated lightning coming off of a metal rod. Brian Eno took this as a musical direction, trying to recreate this visual sensation in his song. In an interview with Lester Bangs in Musician magazine, Eno recounted his directions to his frequent collaborator (and King Crimson guitarist) Robert Fripp
“…on ‘St. Elmo’s Fire’ I had this idea and said to Fripp, ‘Do you know what a Wimshurst machine is?’ It’s a device for generating very high voltages which then leap between the two poles, and it has a certain erratic contour, and I said, ‘You have to imagine a guitar line that has that, very fast and unpredictable.’ And he played that part which to me was very Wimshurst indeed.”
Fripp’s solo accomplishes this by contrasting with the repetitive piano chords. In a way, it’s the energized plasma that springs out of nowhere to beautifully light up the night’s sky. However, I hear a story within the music. “St. Elmo’s Fire,” to me, sounds like a UFO landing. The song starts quietly and gently like a peaceful night, and the clicking percussion reminds me of crickets chirping peacefully in the distance. The steady piano vamp sets the pace and feels like a quickening pulse, making the listener an eager “first person” observer of this strange sight. The ship shimmers beautifully, gracefully moving to earth the same way the “oooohs” accompany Eno’s vocals. When the ship lands (near the end of the second refrain, or right at the beginning of the third verse), another, lower sounding synth starts; this is where the doors open, revealing this strange visitor. He opens his mouth when Fripp’s solo begins, speaking in a beautiful, completely foreign tongue. It doesn’t match the same cadence or syntax as our language, yet it fills us with distinctly beautiful emotions. It’s clearly outside of our comprehension, yet we’re compelled to think of it as a peaceful, beautiful welcome from this otherworldly creature.
Or maybe I’ve just had one too many cups of coffee tonight. Regardless, if there is intelligent life out there (and I’m not sure what I believe), I hope it’s as beautiful as “St. Elmo’s Fire.”
More on Brian Eno: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm
13 Notes