Review Summary: The End of an Era
If Enigma is familiar to you, the name likely conjures to mind the drone of the eponymous foghorn and an indulgent use of Gregorian chants. That is a fair assessment, as producer and sole consistent member, Michael Cretu, inflicted that formula upon himself; even decades on, he still leans into that expectation on the self-referential,
The Fall of the Rebel Angel. Over the course of the musical project’s existence, these tropes have served the dual role of artistic flourishes and immediately recognizable branding. No matter how much Cretu’s creative inclinations shift from record to record, that synthesized whine serves an aural fingerprint of his craftsmanship.
However, before all his contributors dropped off the project (to form their own competitive touring act) and his output transformed into a series of disparate, infrequent releases, Enigma’s first chapter came to its close with its finest entry. Due to its colossal reputation within the New Age genre, 1990s
MCMXC a.D. could be seen as the possessor of that crown, but as iconic as that entry that was, that was the sound of a fledgling outfit finding its footing. The group had further room to grow even as their marketability slowly waned, space for maturation of songwriting and theme.
Each of the four installments of the first chapter are characterized by a loose theme that ties the record together: for
MCMXC a.D., that theme is religion; for
Cross of Changes, it is nature, and
Le Roi est mort, vive le Roi! sets its sights on the future. In the case of
The Screen Behind the Mirror, the theme is space: the space beyond, the space within and the space between. It manifests in the most esoteric work Enigma has produced to date.
This is not to say that Screen is musically opaque, rather that the subject matter itself is difficult to encapsulate in a single statement. To make an attempt: the core idea of this entry is to contextualize the three preceding records by looking inward, into the ‘mirror,’ as it were. Between the reversed Gregorian chants on ‘Smell of Desire,’ the blatant sensual philosophizing of ‘Push the Limits,’ and the exchange of the Gregorian sample for the recurring motif of Carl Orff’s ‘O Fortuna,’ Enigma engage with their past by restructuring it, altering the meanings of their previous songs into something more self-reflexive.
Perhaps it is due to shifting cultural mores or down to the wisdom of experience, but Screen is less concerned with being titillating than it is with exploring the idea of what it is to be a sexual being and the responsibilities entailed in the relationships with a lover and within one’s self. The narrative isn’t explicit in thematic or lyrical content. ‘Push the Limits’ pulses with sensual moans and thumping percussion, but the vocal is inclined towards caution. ‘Gravity of Love’ and the companion title track emphasize emotional connection over gratification, quoting William Blake: ‘the path of excess leads to the tower of wisdom.’ Enigma gave themselves to excess from the start, now they turn introspective.
The shift is best exemplified in future
Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure reference, ‘Modern Crusaders,’ a vague declaration of war on moralizing aggressors. It functions as a more defensive expression of that self-reflexivity, Cretu slowly coming to terms with the idea that pushing boundless sensuality can have very real consequences. Between Andru Donald’s melodramatic performance and the Bach sample, the track really shouldn’t work. This should be the moment the record crumbles under its pretension, yet it does work. The hammy delivery actually ties the whole experience together, injecting an undeniable energy into its later half where the eroticism entirely gives way to a more grounded journey of self-discovery.
The title track of
The Screen Behind the Mirror is one of the finest pieces of music I have ever heard. Even when repeat listens of the rest of this installment can lose some of their lustre, it remains unclouded, despite the fact it is the most inexplicable piece of the puzzle. It doesn’t really add anything new, at least not on the surface, just brings the tempo of ‘Gravity of Love’ up a notch and brings Andru back into the mix. It is potentially another throwaway track, but the throbbing beat and the wailing synthesized instrument make for a powerful concoction, merging ‘Gravity of Love’ and ‘Sadeness’ into a perfected remix, reaching back into the past and transforming it into something new.
What is most new is accountability. This may be reading the song with too modern a lens, but in an era where sexual politics has evolved to acknowledge the nuances of consent, ‘Silence Must Be Heard’ reads like a contemporary commentary on the subject. Ruth Ann-Boyle once again philosophizes on responsibility: the responsibility of hearing the unsaid, recognizing the true intents of others. This all set to the beat from ‘Principles of Lust,’ reaching back to that first record for one final time, sobering the blunt desire of the original track before the trademark foghorn fades in to close the era.
