Stranded: Talk Talk- Spirit of Eden

Nick Southall

With hindsight, Hollis’ distinctive strain of Christian mysticism is traceable via his lyrics through Talk Talk’s whole career, but at Spirit Of Eden it becomes overriding and imperative, informing the structure, tone and delivery of the music as much as the mere words. Guitars and harmonica strike at times with Old Testament vengefulness only for piano, violin and the seemingly constant, mellifluous organ to ebb, sooth, redeem, balm. And all the while Hollis’ uniquely plaintive voice delivers lyrics which are simultaneously oblique and personal, his muffled enunciation disguising the precision of the words if not their meaning, from barely audible exhortations to “rage on omnipotent” to passages of indecipherable profundity; “nature’s son / don’t you know how life goes on? / desperately befriending the crowd / to incessantly drive on / dress in gold’s surrendering gown.” The particulars of the faith presented here are only to be guessed at; his lyrics invoke recurrent holistic paradigms of spring/nature, the innate wisdom/purity of children, pleas for a sacred faith and understanding in the face of the spiritual fault lines of our nation and world, meanings both obscured and accentuated by his delivery. By “New Grass” on Laughing Stock he will confess explicitly to being “versed in Christ should strength desert me,” but for the duration of Spirit Of Eden the source of his faith and spirituality remain unclear even if the power of the devotional does not.


Hollis has denied that he is a “born-again Christian”, and pleaded ignorance of the similarly English Christian mysticism of William Blake. His philosophy, he says, is “humanitarian”. Does he believe in God, or does he merely want to believe; is Spirit Of Eden an expression of faith or an expression of the desire for faith? His renowned reticence and reserved nature mean that discussions of intentions and meanings in Talk Talk’s music are few and far between, the music being left to speak for itself, making separation of the artist and the art a difficult task. His art is as much perspiration and fastidious exactitude as it is divine inspiration or revelatory genius, probably more so; the effort behind this work is human, not divine, and credit should not be tithed to a higher power. As Hollis himself intones during Inheritance, we are guilty of “burying progress in the clouds.” He is after all only a man, as given to stealing song-titles from Brian Wilson and Arthur Lee as anyone else, however astonishing his records may be. The dichotomy of struggle and confusion between faith in God and faith in man is fascinating and crucial.


The notion of originality has been refuted by Hollis, who believes all music to be essentially derivative. The way to achieve innovation, to create something original, he says, is to take things from as wide and varied a scheme of influences as possible. The list of names checked as sources for the creation of Spirit Of Eden is wide and diverse; Can, Miles Davis, Debussy, Satie, Delius, Coltrane, Roland Kirk, John Lee Hooker. It was the punk insurgency of late 70s London that inspired him to pick up a guitar and cemented in his ideology the need for “feel” over technique. He is almost militant about how music should be listened to, an advocate of intense engagement and undivided attention. Despite aesthetic similarities, I imagine he has little theoretical common ground with Eno. Spirit Of Eden is intended to be listened to late at night in darkened rooms, focused and free of distractions. Every note and beat is in place for a reason, every texture mulled over and deliberate. At one point Hollis and Friese-Green recorded a 25-piece choir, only to delete their contribution the next day because it was “too perfect.” The imperfections and flaws beget the power of the record, reflecting and refracting the fallibility and frailty of the mortal creator. The juxtaposition of the unsound and the magnificent reminds us of our own flaws, of our ego and insignificance; it is this almost unconscious recognition, this profound truth within the music that charges me with feeling.


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