Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Another Green World by Geeta Dayal Reading 33 1/3. In the preface, Geeta Dayal describes using an Oblique Strategies deck in writing the book. It’s fitting, of course, as the cards were first published by Eno and Peter Schmidt the same year Another Green World and Discreet Music were released, but there’s an uneasy moment in any book where the author is describing how difficult they found writing it. Dayal sketches out Eno’s history, including the influence of Ipswich Art College (experimentation on the nature and boundaries of art, and the role of Tom Phillips, with the cover art coming from a detail of one of his paintings) and his developing interests as spectator and artist: John Cage, Fluxus, Cornelius Cardew, cybernetics and the Portsmouth Sinfonia. Though much of the book is broader than Another Green World - which is inevitable, given Eno’s breadth of interest and activity during the period - there’s a description of the process and collaborators, including Robert Fripp and John Cale as well as others from diverse musical backgrounds. This flows into process, Oblique Strategies, John Cage and the I Ching , and studio techniques. The best parts are Dayal’s description of the tracks, such as ‘Over Fire Island’ as it’s framed in a discussion of Phil Collins’ and Percy Jones’ involvement in the album. At points, it seems a little breathless - 'enthralling’, 'cosmic’ - but perhaps it really captures Dayal’s experience as a listener. Discreet Music gets a full chapter, as does the place of Another Green World in Eno’s career in retrospect, ending in a summary of points already made repeatedly. Possibly as a result of the amorphous structure, there is a lot of repetition and it gets grating quickly. In particular, Eno is described as a 'non- musician’ so many times that it could be the basis of a dangerous drinking game, but there’s also the reliance on landscape metaphors to describe music, and a chapter on music in 1975 lands in the middle of the book as if unmoored from all other parts. It’s a pity, because Dayal clearly has an intellectual, thorough, passionate interest in the subject and there’s plenty of material to work with, and yet the book dragged - it’s not that it needs to be easy reading, by any means, but it felt like fumbling through notes and drafts to find the points of interest. Not a process of discovery, even, just a very disappointing book. 7 Notes / Hide. succoallapera liked this. About. No affiliation with Continuum Books or any of the authors, I just really enjoy the series. Any excerpts or cover images used are purely for the purpose of the review. They've got a great blog about the books here. Search AbeBooks. We're sorry; the page you requested could not be found. AbeBooks offers millions of new, used, rare and out-of-print books, as well as cheap textbooks from thousands of booksellers around the world. Shopping on AbeBooks is easy, safe and 100% secure - search for your book, purchase a copy via our secure checkout and the bookseller ships it straight to you. Search thousands of booksellers selling millions of new & used books. New & Used Books. New and used copies of new releases, best sellers and award winners. Save money with our huge selection. Rare & Out of Print Books. From scarce first editions to sought-after signatures, find an array of rare, valuable and highly collectible books. Textbooks. Catch a break with big discounts and fantastic deals on new and used textbooks. Brian Eno's Oblique Strategies: the famous deck of cards behind "Another Green World" The musicians would “humanize something free of error,” or "accept advice" – whatever the cards proclaimed. By Geeta Dayal. Published June 2, 2018 6:30PM (EDT) Shares. Excerpted from "Brian Eno's Another Green World" by Geeta Dayal (Continuum, 2009). Reprinted with permission from Bloomsbury Publishing. "Another Green World" is the first Eno record which credits “Brian Eno,” not the otherworldly, vaporous “Eno’’ he had been referred to on previous records. It’s also the first Eno album that gives an explicit credit to the Oblique Strategies cards on the back cover sleeve. Eno and his artist friend Peter Schmidt released the Oblique Strategies cards in 1975, when they realized that they had both been independently developing sets of ideas to help themselves come up with creative solutions to trying situations. “The Oblique Strategies evolved from me being in a number of working situations when the panic of the situation—particularly in studios—tended to make me quickly forget that there were others ways of working, and that there were tangential ways of attacking problems that were in many senses more interesting than the direct head-on approach,” explained Eno in an interview with Charles Amirkhanian in 1980. The most clear antecedent to the Oblique Strategies cards was John Cage’s adoption of the ancient Chinese divination system, the I Ching, to make musical decisions. Some other related concepts to the Oblique Strategies were the Fluxus movement’s fanciful and inventive “Fluxkits” and Fluxus boxes—one particularly inspired example of these boxes, by George Brecht, was called the “water yam” box. The boxes often contained cards with witty sayings or specific instructions. Another possible predecessor to the Oblique Strategies cards was the media theorist Marshall McLuhan’s “Distant Early Warning” cards, issued in 1969. Some of McLuhan’s cards, which were printed on a regular deck of poker cards, had quotes from other thinkers (one card read “Propaganda is any culture in action”—Jacques Ellul); others had classic McLuhan quotes (the ten of diamonds read “The medium is the message”); a king card read “In the world of the blind, the one-eyed man is a hallucinated idiot’’; the nine of spades sported the ominous warning “With data banks we are taped, typed and scrubbed.” Cage’s I Ching methodology was graceful and complex, and McLuhan’s Distant Early Warning cards bordered on plain goofy—almost like fortune-cookie fortunes from some bizarro media-studies universe. The Oblique Strategies cards, meanwhile, had a specific, utilitarian purpose. The quirky cards were designed to help artists and musicians get out of creative ruts and loosen up in the studio. Each Oblique Strategy had a different aphorism: “Accept advice,” read one. “Imagine the music as a series of disconnected events,” read another. “Humanize something free of error.” Percy Jones had strong memories of the Oblique Strategies cards being shuffled and drawn during the recording sessions on various occasions. “The first time he did it, I thought we were going to have a game of poker or something,” Jones said, chuckling. “I had no idea what was going on.” While the cards could be useful tools, the instructions on the cards were indeed followed to the letter—sometimes with potentially disastrous results. “If the cards foretold that something had to be erased or turned upside down, they were,” said Barry Sage. If a song was being worked on intensely, and a card that was drawn suddenly proclaimed that the tapes had to be deleted, they were. Eno’s playfulness in the studio was key. “My quick guide to Captain Eno: play, instinct/intuition, good taste,” wrote Robert Fripp in an e-mail. “Eno demonstrated his intelligence by concentrating his interests away from live work; and his work persists, and continues to have influence. The key to Brian, from my view, is his sense of play. I only know one other person (a musician) who engages with play to the same extent as Brian. Although Eno is considered an intellectual, and clearly he has more than sufficient wit, it’s Brian’s instinctive and intuitive choices that impress me. Instinct puts us in the moment, intellect is slower.” Eno is popularly characterized as a brainy studio boffin, an egghead theorist and solemn architect of “sonic landscapes”; meanwhile, his friends and collaborators describe him as lighthearted and fun to be around, with a relaxed, anything-goes attitude—both in the studio and in life. How to reconcile these two poles? Leo Abrahams, who worked with Eno on a number of recent recording projects, said that he’d observed Eno working on two different levels. “When I see him work on things that are on the more ambient levels of what he does—like the album "Neroli" or certain things that were on his last record, or the J. Peter Schwalm stuff—that’s when you’d almost see that reputation of the boffin, if you like, being justified, because there are certain things he knows how to do with instruments and effects that nobody else knows how to do,” Abrahams said. “It’s amazing watching him fashion that; I think that’s a lot closer to his visual work, which again is extremely painstaking. But then again, when I see him working on songs–more song-based records—he’s really hands-on, and not at all precious about sounds. He likes things to be distorted and he likes things to sound really rough, and he does lots of things that an engineer will say ‘That’s wrong, you can’t do that!’ He likes to sing with the speakers blaring out, so you hear the music in the background of all the vocal tracks and stuff, just because he doesn’t like using headphones. It’s a deceptively slapdash approach, if you know what I mean. It’s quite rock and roll, and it’s not what you’d expect from the person who made things like "Music for Airports" or "77 Million Paintings." A similar thing was said by Rhett Davies; he described to me a few of the situations of what it was like in the studio, and it just sounds like a huge amount of fun, basically, and very experimental and not so boffin-esque and not so painstaking.” Eno mixed it up in the studio at around the time of "Another Green World" in other ways. “Sometimes you’d be into something really intense, you’d be working on a piece of music and discussing it, and then he’d say: ‘Anybody want some cake?’” said Percy Jones. “Eno would pull out a cake and he’d cut up slices of cake, and everyone would eat some cake, and then we’d forget all about the creative process!” Another Green World. Brian Eno has done everything from producing huge pop stars to creating tiny art installations to touring with rock bands to inventing ambient music. Another Green World remains his definitive album. In July 1975, Brian Eno found himself a few days and several thousand dollars into a studio booking with nearly nothing to show for it. It wasn’t that he had too few ideas, but too many. His first two solo albums, Here Come the Warm Jets and Taking Tiger Mountain (by Strategy) , had reimagined glam rock as sound sculpture and established Eno not just as a practitioner of pop, but a theoretician of it: Someone whose music doubled as a blueprint for how music could be made. In interviews he came off as part drag courtesan and part professor emeritus, scissoring his legs in feathers and sequins while dishing about the thrills of aleatoric composition, shaping ideas few people had heard before into forms anyone could understand. Jets and Tiger Mountain bookended a year—November 1973 to November 1974—during which Eno released three other, collaborative albums. By the end of 1975, he’d release at least two more, including something called Discreet Music , which pioneered the textured drift of what Eno later called “ambient.” At the time he conceived of Discreet Music , just a few months before he found himself panicked on the studio floor, Eno was lying in a London hospital after being hit by a taxi. The story—a modern creation myth—goes that his girlfriend brought him an album of 18th-century harp music, which Eno was too weak to adjust the volume on, exposing him to a blurry, impressionistic convergence of music and light rainfall outside. What if, he thought, you could make music to be heard but not actively listened to? (Or, as Eno later formulated the challenge, music “as ignorable as it is interesting.”) [1] Days earlier, he had been lying in the back of an ambulance, holding his head together with his own bloody hands. Most people who can’t turn their brains off consider it an affliction. Eno accepted it as a gift. Eno, it should be said, had planned on going into the studio without a plan. As an art-school student, he’d fallen in love with Fluxus, a network of sculptors, musicians, performers, and thinkers who privileged the process of making work over the product. In 1968, he won a small school award for his performance of a George Brecht piece called “Drip Event,” whose score, in full, was “Erect containers such that water from other containers drips into them.” Eno, then 20, added instructions for the instruments to be ground down and cast into blocks of acrylic resin, which should be given to young children. “Now,” he stipulated, “the music begins.” Liberated by the idea that there are no right ways, only different ones, Eno performed the piece two more times, each one unrecognizable to the last. Recording, by extension, wasn’t the endpoint of composition but part of composition itself, the studio less a place of stenography than discovery. But record companies don’t buy and sell processes, they buy and sell records. If Fluxus and other performance artists defied the reduction of art to an object, Eno’s ambition was to make records—concrete, immutable, physical records—that reflected process. Discreet Music ’s 30-minute centerpiece, a loop of slow, feathery synthesizer tones, fades in at the beginning of the record and out at the end, as though to signal to the listener that whatever Discreet Music is—the physical record, the abstract composition—we’ve only witnessed part of it. “I think I started about 35 pieces and some of ’em were real clutching at straws,” Eno told the NME in 1976, remembering the panic of his studio session. “But it’s interesting: Sometimes that kind of desperation gives rise to things that would never happen any other way.” Unsure of what else to do, Eno started giving himself instructions. Swing the microphone from the ceiling was one. Hire a trombone was another. A year earlier, he and the artist Peter Schmidt developed a set of creative constraints that codified in a deck of cards they called “Oblique Strategies.” Part Fluxus exercise, part I Ching , part high-concept Tarot, the cards presented what Eno and Schmidt called “worthwhile dilemmas,” scenarios artists might pose to themselves while trying to squeeze through a difficult moment. In the spirit of the endeavor, I have just drawn three cards at random. The first says “Look at a very small object, look at its center.” The next, “Feedback recordings into an acoustic situation.” The third “Imagine the music as a moving chain or caterpillar.” If freedom is darkness, “Oblique Strategies” were a guide rail: You might not know where you were going but at least you could start to move. The real challenge of the Strategies is having the faith to surrender to them. Throughout his 40-year career, which has included producing such marquee enterprises as U2, Talking Heads, and Coldplay, Eno has remained a voluntary amateur, someone who seems most engaged when he isn’t sure what will happen next. More than humor, more than work ethic, more than his ability to see and conceptualize in ways nobody had quite seen and conceptualized before, Eno’s greatest gift was his ability not only to find peace in uncertainty, but progress. Not all Eno’s collaborators shared his sense of play. As told to Geeta Dayal in her book on the album, the bassist Percy Jones remembers him handing out sheets of paper on which musicians were asked to write numbers, which corresponded to a specific note, which Eno wanted them to play on beat with a metronome. Phil Collins—yes, “In the Air Tonight” Phil Collins, then the drummer of Genesis—got about 20 beats in before stopping to throw beer cans at a bicycle across the room. Eno often came home from the studio and cried, later calling the process “almost unmitigated hell.” A couple of months later, they had a placid, reflective and unrepentantly beautiful album called Another Green World . Though usually lumped in with Eno’s other early “vocal” albums— Here Come the Warm Jets , Taking Tiger Mountain (by Strategy) , and 1977’s Before and After Science —only five of its 14 songs actually have singing. While Eno could’ve separated the vocal tracks from the instrumental ones, as David Bowie did a couple of years later on the Eno-assisted Low , he instead dispersed them at even intervals, lily pads of song between deeper seas. The effect is like slipping into and out of sleep while friends talk in the next room. As a child, Eno had designed houses, blueprints, sketches for fantastical and improbable places, filled with labyrinths and secret passageways. Trees grew through the middle of rooms, streams ran indoors. *Another Green World *captures those rooms in sound. Instead of linear, narrative structures that move from A to B to C to convey development, songs like “The Big Ship” start on A and linger, accumulating countermelodies, magnifying themes, staying the same and yet revealing new sides with every turn. The effect is like seeing a two-dimensional image rise off the page and then slowly fall again. In the absence of vocals, Eno’s approach, which he once called “vertical music,” becomes a metaphor for intimacy: With every second that the tracks unfold, you feel like you’re getting closer to the heart of something. That you never arrive doesn’t matter. The joy is in the passage. I’ve often felt like the most famous “Oblique Strategy,” “repetition is a form of change,” is as applicable to my best friendships or my marriage as it is to the creative process: When you see her face every day, the challenge becomes to notice something new. Removing vocals—or at least diminishing their primacy—was Eno’s way of chipping at how we identify the “human” in music. Pop is a diaristic form: A voice telling you their story, seeking identification. In Another Green World , voices ricochet around the mix like people in a busy market (“Sky Saw”) or stumble in the margins, drunk and out of tune (“Golden Hours”). At certain points I get the strange sense that Eno is distracted by something happening at the window, just out of frame. He isn’t commanding the sound around him, he’s inhabiting it. He could just as well leave and everything would be the same. Among Eno’s fascinations at the time was dub reggae, which was entering an enlightenment phase. “You get an album like, say, King Tubby Meets the Upsetter , where on the back of the album you get a picture of the consoles instead of the ‘stars’,” he said in a 1975 interview. The image— instead of the band, pictures of their equipment—articulated Eno’s developing attitude that musicians are only as important as the way they’re organized and processed. (One of Eno’s other big bang moments had been with “Come Out,” by the composer Steve Reich, a hypnotic piece in which two nearly identical tape loops of a human voice slowly fall out of phase with each other then slide back together—music whose effect depended entirely on the technology used to make it.) The most remarkable thing about Another Green World , then, is how a stoic Englishman who showed no interest in the conventional expression of emotion managed to make something that feels so intensely personal. Eno grew up in a small, parochial town in postwar England, the son of a third-generation mailman and a Catholic woman from Belgium. Aside from occasional streaks of melancholy, young life was steady and unremarkable. “My great debt to my parents is that they showed little interest in what I was doing,” he told People in 1982. His first love was doo-wop, the lunar reverberation of echo and percussive babble of backup singers, the uncanny mix of carnal yearning and pure naiveté, of lust without sex. (Talking to the writer Lester Bangs in 1979, he called it “music from nowhere.”) The impact lingered. The daffy, nonsensical love poetry of “I’ll Come Running,” the sha-la-las of its backup singers. “Everything Merges With the Night,” which opens with the plaintive address to a girl named “Rosalie,” the talk of waiting all summer, all evening. You can see Eno on the corner outside her house under a halo of weird orange streetlight, picking up a pebble to toss at her window. Even some of Another Green World ’s instrumental tracks, particularly “Becalmed” and “In Dark Trees,” have the eerie aura of something like Elvis’ “Blue Moon,” at once grounded and hovering three feet overhead. Another Green World is not a happy record, nor is it sad. There are no demonstrations of personal triumph or failure, pain or elation, tension or release, desire or disappointment. The album’s most dazzling passage, the guitarist Robert Fripp’s solo on “St. Elmo’s Fire,” was made under Eno’s direction to replicate the display of a Wimshurst machine, a generator that creates lightning-like sparks that jump between two metal spheres. Set in the context of the song, a long walk between Eno and his companion “Brown Eyes,” the solo—electricity across the sky— becomes a point of shared beauty, something neither of them expected to see but that overtakes them both. This is the nature of Another Green World ’s romance: Not what one person does or says for another, but the bond created between two people bearing witness to something bigger than both of them: Not love but wonder. As someone who has frequently found themselves in states of deep peace only to have someone ask me if anything was wrong, Another Green World ’s apparent neutrality has always been a lifeline to me. Of course, I don’t hear it as neutral—I hear it as ecstatically calm, an album that by some mysterious grace managed to climb just a few rungs higher on the tower and get a more sympathetic look at what it all means. Though self- consciously not a hippie, Eno seemed to understand that the real promise of psychedelic drugs wasn’t to push one’s thoughts into a new beyond but to restore them to a place they hadn’t been since childhood: Drifting but absorbed, naïve but curious, moving laterally, freely, safely. In doo- wop parlance, this was his slow dance with the universe. “I read a science fiction story a long time ago where these people are exploring space and they finally find this habitable planet,” he said to the NME , reflecting on the album’s title. “And it turns out to be identical to Earth in every detail. And I thought that was the supreme irony: that they’d originally left to find something better and arrived in the end—which was actually the same place. Which is how I feel about myself. I’m always trying to project myself at a tangent and always seem eventually to arrive back at the same place.” In other words, here. [1] “Most of the quotes and anecdotes in this piece came from either David Sheppard’s On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno , Geeta Dayal’s Another Green World , or interviews documented on Eno’s fansite.” Another Green World. “The journalist Geeta Dayal…writes often about sound, technology and how those subjects intersect through the story of electronic music. (Her book on Brian Eno’s album “Another Green World” is key to understanding a part of that story.)” Full article. THE NEW YORKER. “In Geeta Dayal’s book about the album, also titled “Another Green World,” the bassist Percy Jones recalls, “There was this one time where he gave everybody a piece of paper, and he said write down 1 to 100 or something like that, and then he gave us notes to play against specific numbers.” Phil Collins, who played drums on the album, reacted to these instructions by throwing beer cans across the room. “I think we got up to 24 and then gave up and did something else,” Jones said. Full article. PITCHFORK : TOP 33 1/3 BOOKS. “It’s an apt move, as Eno often foregrounds the creative process himself, and it results in a probing and thoughtful book that never falls into formula. Instead, Dayal portrays her subject as a deft artist embracing studio technology and balancing his past accomplishments with all the endless possibilities of the future.” Full article. SLATE : TEN BEST 33 1/3 BOOKS. “The book on Brian Eno’s Another Green World by frequent Slate contributor Geeta Dayal shows how Eno’s music, and not his alone, can be at once composed and collaborative, “both process and product,” so that listeners feel like musicians too. Dayal’s prose is careful, clear, literate, and eclectic in its references, like Eno’s music…” Full article. The book was also listed as one of Slate ‘s Ten Best 33 1/3 Books. PITCHFORK. “I just finished listening to an audiobook of Geeta Dayal’s great 33 1/3 on Brian Eno’s Another Green World and am more than ever finding that record to contain all the secrets of the universe.” Full article. MAGNET. “The book itself is a masterpiece; it’s not just a book about the making of a record, it’s a book about how to make art and how to think about how to make art.” Full article. NPR. To The Best of Our Knowledge , an NPR program produced by Wisconsin Public Radio, aired a fascinating documentary about arts criticism that included a long interview about the Eno book. Full article. THE WIRE (UK) “What, then, can Dayal say about the record that is new? One way is to pack an improbable amount of research into such a limited word count: tracking down archival interviews with Eno, any books or films he may have been reading or watching at the time, and interviewing his collaborators. All of which Dayal does, but really her answer is to focus on process: her own as much as Eno’s. […] As a study of Another Green World it’s impressively holistic, hungry to catalogue every possible point of departure for thinking about the record … the best short introduction to Eno’s work and ethos going.” Full review. PITCHFORK. “The Nylon version of the anecdote comes from Geeta Dayal’s fine book about Eno and his 1975 masterpiece, Another Green World . Released as part of Continuum Books’ 33 1/3 series on classic albums, the book mostly sidesteps the finished LP to make the process the hero. Eno’s use of collaboration, chance, and cybernetics to force creativity makes for a fascinating story, enlivened by the sometimes bemused but always fond recollections of participants from the ’70s and after. […] Eno himself apparently loved the book, buying copies for friends. This isn’t surprising– an interest in process has been a constant of his work for four decades. […] Dayal’s book leaves you with the feeling that Another Green World is a record whose dislocated, spectral qualities are ghost-impressions of the other records its processes might have created.” Full article. KEXP : Best Music Books of 2009. “Continuum, the publisher of these small but jam-packed with fact and fascination jewels lucked out with Geeta Dayal’s scientific yet sublime study of the origins of ambient via Brian Eno’s Another Green World.” Full review. DAZED DIGITAL. “In Geeta Dayal’s book about the making of Brian Eno’s classic 1975 record Another Green World, she cites cybernetics as a defining influence on the creative process – “cybernetic systems were used to model practically every phenomenon, with varying degrees of success – factories, societies, machines, ecosystems, brains – and Eno became a big fan of linking its powerful toolset to the studio environment, and to music composition. Eno was nothing if not interdisciplinary, and cybernetics may be one of the most interdisciplinary frameworks ever devised. Its theories connect engineering, math, physics, biology, psychology and some of this inevitably trickled into the arts.” Full article. FLAVORPILL. “The challenge of 33 1/3 is to go beyond the common knowledge about an already obsessed-over album. Dayal takes the task in stride, packing in more information about Eno’s transition from glam rocker to ambient music maven than you might think possible in so short a space. The prose is elegant, the sheer scope of the work impressive, and the meditation on the source of creativity is both well done and light-handed.” Full article. FIFTEEN QUESTIONS. MEDIUM. FLAVORWIRE. “Continuum’s 33 1/3 series is another one where female authors are largely conspicuous by their absence — of the 83 books in the series, we count eight with female authors, which makes for a better ratio than three out of 60 for Pitchfork’s list, but still doesn’t exactly make 33 1/3 a bastion of equality. Happily, one of the eight is Geeta Dayal’s masterful take on Brian Eno’s ever-wonderful Another Green World.” Full article. FLAGPOLE. “Rather than focus on studio gadgetry and track-by-track analyses, Dayal concerns herself with Eno’s creative process, tracing his relentless experimentation back to his days at Ipswich Art College, where he was influenced by the likes of La Monte Young, members of the Fluxus movement and, most importantly, John Cage. Dayal explores Eno’s use of cybernetics, the Oblique Strategy cards he invented and implemented in his work, and some of the many odd experiments he used to push himself and those around him in unexpected directions. Dayal’s unique and fresh take, which also delves into Discreet Music, is a must read for Eno fans and makes a great primer for the uninitiated.” Full review. CLEVELAND SCENE. “The latest book in the music-snob-approved 33 1/3 series takes a look at Brian Eno’s 1975 ambient classic. Writer Geeta Dayal probes the stories and sounds behind the U2 producer’s best solo album, a tranquil meditation on a cold world, told through synthetic noise. It’s a perfect wintertime record; this book makes an accommodating companion.” Full review. CYCLIC DEFROST. “Dayal’s writing feels, to me, a lot like sitting around with a music nerd friend and intricately picking apart the glories of your favourite album in a meandering, discuss-as-you-think-of-it manner.” Full article. LARGEHEARTED BOY. “Geeta Dayal’s 33 1/3 book Brian Eno’s Another Green World explores the musician at the time of his metamorphosis from rocker to ambient artist. Bringing together musicians who played on the album, Dayal lays out a track-by-track history and analysis not only of the seminal album but also Eno’s creative process.” Full article. VOGUING TO DANZIG. “Dayal’s book ultimately winds up being less a World tell-all than a portrait of an artist at a particular point in his career, stuffed with enough carefully chosen quotes and reportage to show that she spend a long time sorting out how to approach her subject — something she alludes to in her introduction.” Full review. DISCORDER. “It doesn’t much matter because Dayal’s is a book about process, not a “making of.” Among the now 70 entries in 33 1/3—a series that invites writers to wax on key albums in a slim back-pocket book—Dayal’s is a stand-out.” Full review. HENRY JENKINS. “I read the book with both pride in what my former student has accomplished and fascination with what she had to teach me about an artist who ranks very highly on my personal list of music preferences. I often use Eno’s music as a backdrop when I am writing and I like to listen to this strangely familiar (and I do mean strange) music when I have trouble relaxing in strangely familiar hotel rooms while traveling. I knew I liked Eno, but I didn’t have a language to explain why. I had to share my excitement about this book with my readers.” Interview (Part 1) / Interview (Part 2) EVENING POST (UK) “An appraisal of Brian Eno’s 1975 album covering his influences – British scratch orchestras, John Cage, Steve Reich, cybernetic systems – the recording studio, Eno’s collaborators, his experimental techniques and virtuosity at the synthesiser. Abstruse boffin or amiable buffoon? Dayal’s little book tells you plenty about the present Lib Dem adviser on youth culture.” (5 out of 5 stars) Full review. METAPSYCHOLOGY. “Dayal’s pleasing contribution to Continuum’s 33 1/3 series gives the background to the creative process behind Brian Eno’s classic 1975 album Another Green World.” Full review. KEXP. “As I read Dayal’s skilled tale of Eno in these events, I was helplessly drawn into this awe-inducing history of synchronistic creation and self- challenge.” Full review. PITCHFORK : Holiday Gift Guide 2009. “While we’re talking up pseudo-Pitchfork-related things, Continuum’s incomparable 33 1/3 series, in which authors present unique and wide- ranging takes on a series of classic albums, has a lot of recent gems on offer– among them our managing editor Mark Richardson on the Flaming Lips’ Zaireeka, Pitchfork senior writer Matt LeMay on Elliott Smith’s X/O, and The Pitchfork 500 contributor Geeta Dayal on Brian Eno’s Another Green World.” THE MILLIONS. “I recommend Geeta Dayal’s Another Green World, another excellent entry in the 33 1/3 series. It’s as much a philosophy book as a “Behind the Music” breakdown, and an invitation to think creatively about creativity.” Full review. BOOKSQUAWK. “Describing production and creative processes and how they produced the warm evocative songs on Another Green World would be difficult for anyone not versed in electronic music. But Dayal writes about the production of this album in an accessible and interesting way. The story of this album is not just the story of how an album was made, but a story about the creative process and having faith in one’s ideas…Dayal makes it clear how important this album was both to Eno’s development and to the development of late 20th century music in general. Readers interested in Eno will love this book…” Full review. THE DAILY NEBRASKAN. “As I was reading the brilliant 33 1/3 take on Eno’s “Another Green World,” one of my favorite albums of all time, writer Geeta Dayal pointed me to another Eno classic called “Discreet Music.” The album consists of a 30:35 title track on one side, and three different interpretations of Pachelbel’s Canon in D on the other side of the record … Its soothing textures and systematic phases are truly calming. I’m listening to it as I write this, and it is truly effective in removing distractions and centering the mind.” Full review. MACHINE MUSIC. “The author’s economical prose takes the reader from Eno’s childhood years in Eastern England to his art school tape experiments. She provides a succinct overview of Eno’s musical career, not forgetting to mention collaborations and collective exercises such as the Scratch Orchestra and ACNE…Dayal’s Another Green World is an informative and concise introduction to an artist whose imprint on modern culture is incalculable.” Full review. ROCKCRITICS.COM. Favorite Music Reads of the ’00s, #8: Preface to Another Green World, part of Continuum’s 78 RPM 33 1/3 series, by Geeta Dayal. Full review.