FRI., OCTOBER 26, 2007
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Ian Brown: Punk Prophet of the New Edge
by Robert Phoenix
Ian Brown is a heretic.
Some consider new age to be heresy. In which case, former Stone Roses singer Ian Brown may well qualify as the most compellingly, even shockingly, heretical artist of the day. See, heretics break rules and shatter cultural norms. As such, they can be demons — or they can be prophets. Now, you may ask yourself, why is the new age guy at eMusic writing about some elfin English rocker dude from the '80s? Good question. But Brown’s 2004 release, Music of the Spheres, could be the most fully realized transformation of a rock frontman into a cosmic bard since Van Morrison got starry-eyed on Astral Weeks. Locking into a decidedly celestial vibe on Music of the Spheres, Brown destroys forms and creates new ones — a new age principle in action.
Taking a page out of Paracelsus’ cookbook, Brown alchemizes right away with "F.E.A.R.," transmuting the word into an acronymic state packed with powerful and empowering memes. Over a bed of synths/strings a la the Verve's “Bittersweet Symphony” and a coolly shuffling breakbeat, Brown chants, "Fantastic expectations and revolutions/ for everyman and religion/ Forget everything and remember/ Forgive everybody and remember/ for everything a reason/ free expression as revolution." You get the picture. Brown is re-defining F.E.A.R, turning it inside out; re-contextualizing it into an affirmation through the expression of his art. This is new age 101, but he does it in such a way that he crafts something beyond both rock and new age, an orchestral fusion of beats and a bold redemption of the state of limitation.
Ian Brown was born on the 20th of February in 1963. Astrologically this puts him at zero degrees Pisces, right at the beginning of the sign, where most astrologers will tell you that the most power resides. He embodies the qualities of mysticism, faith, inspiration, drugs, illusion, depression and art more potently at zero degrees than many other Pisceans. For a cultural corollary, Kurt Cobain shares the same birthday as Brown. Brown’s identity and message in his post-Stone Roses phase has evolved into that of a mystic with a radical social conscience.
Ian Brown is a hooligan.
Just take a cruise through his YouTube videos and you’ll witness his now-legendary beatdown of a security guard at his show in San Francisco from 2005, a scuffle with a smarmy UK talk show host who was clearly egging him on and other confrontational sparring. While Brown may be able to rhapsodize about how his “DNA is stardust” and that “he lives beneath the wings of an angel and stands within the shadow of a saint” — two memorable lines off of “Stardust” and “Shadow of a Saint” from Music of the Spheres — Brown comes off as an enfant terrible who has charmed some more-than-willing muse. As a child, Brown was inspired by Bruce Lee and Muhammad Ali; he’s still a warrior on the prowl, a street fighter, always striking before being struck. His short fuse landed him in Strangeways, the legendary English prison, where he did four months' time for threatening an airline stewardess with plastic cutlery. Brandishing the soul of a true punk, Brown was playing the Situationist, fronting his political views, which we’ll discuss shortly. While in Strangeways, he converted to Islam, partly because the Muslims had a better big house diet, but also because… he’s a heretic.
Ian Brown is a hero.
The themes on Music of the Spheres center around the profundity of our existence, the potential of being human and the poetry of our cosmic nature; the sound ranges through ambient ode and post-techno glitch to soaring and expansive suites. It’s the outsider’s vision of punk coming into wholeness, discarding nihilism for the miracle of being alive. These are sonic psalms for the new edge, visions arrived at through wrestling with the shadow — Brown’s own immense, post-Roses spectre. Anyone with an even passing interest in finding new forms to experience the luminous and transcendent art of being, not to mention new-agers looking for a new voice of affirmation, should give him a listen and expand their horizons about what the new age genre is all about.
But Ian Brown rarely rests on his laurels or stays in one place stylistically for very long. On Solarized, the follow up to Music of the Spheres, he continues to champion an affirmative voice amidst more exotic Middle Eastern beats and grooves on tracks like “Longsight M13,” “Solarized” and “One Way Ticket to Paradise” where he is ably aided by Aziz Ibrahim on fuzzed-out guitar playing what would traditionally be the lead of an oud. It’s like Coleridge meets Hendrix jamming with Bachir Attar. But the most radical, politically charged and smoking track on the record, this time using a Middle Eastern groove infused with dub, “Kiss Ya Lips (No ID)." Brown takes on the notion of identity and the role it plays — or, in this case, doesn’t play — in security. He riffs on implanted microchips, hijacked jets, false identities and dances on the fringe of conspiracy. It’s not a one-time shot at the system, either — on his newest album, The World Is Yours “King Monkey” (Brown’s nickname) issues what might be the most potent anti-war song of our time; “Illegal Attacks.” The powerful video unravels layer upon layer of irony about the meaning of the war on terror, as he’s joined on vocals by yet another heretic, Sinead O’Connor. If it’s any indication of the rest of the recording, Brown’s most spiritual stance yet seems to be rooted firmly in freedom.
Iconoclastic, explosive, expansive, poetic, mystical and radical, Ian Brown ushers in a new age of musical possibility, obliterating genres, shedding the robes of a high priest from the temple of the safe and appropriate persona. Heretic, hooligan and hero, Ian Brown is a dangerous man.
Some consider new age to be heresy. In which case, former Stone Roses singer Ian Brown may well qualify as the most compellingly, even shockingly, heretical artist of the day. See, heretics break rules and shatter cultural norms. As such, they can be demons — or they can be prophets. Now, you may ask yourself, why is the new age guy at eMusic writing about some elfin English rocker dude from the '80s? Good question. But Brown’s 2004 release, Music of the Spheres, could be the most fully realized transformation of a rock frontman into a cosmic bard since Van Morrison got starry-eyed on Astral Weeks. Locking into a decidedly celestial vibe on Music of the Spheres, Brown destroys forms and creates new ones — a new age principle in action.
Taking a page out of Paracelsus’ cookbook, Brown alchemizes right away with "F.E.A.R.," transmuting the word into an acronymic state packed with powerful and empowering memes. Over a bed of synths/strings a la the Verve's “Bittersweet Symphony” and a coolly shuffling breakbeat, Brown chants, "Fantastic expectations and revolutions/ for everyman and religion/ Forget everything and remember/ Forgive everybody and remember/ for everything a reason/ free expression as revolution." You get the picture. Brown is re-defining F.E.A.R, turning it inside out; re-contextualizing it into an affirmation through the expression of his art. This is new age 101, but he does it in such a way that he crafts something beyond both rock and new age, an orchestral fusion of beats and a bold redemption of the state of limitation.
Ian Brown was born on the 20th of February in 1963. Astrologically this puts him at zero degrees Pisces, right at the beginning of the sign, where most astrologers will tell you that the most power resides. He embodies the qualities of mysticism, faith, inspiration, drugs, illusion, depression and art more potently at zero degrees than many other Pisceans. For a cultural corollary, Kurt Cobain shares the same birthday as Brown. Brown’s identity and message in his post-Stone Roses phase has evolved into that of a mystic with a radical social conscience.
Ian Brown is a hooligan.
Just take a cruise through his YouTube videos and you’ll witness his now-legendary beatdown of a security guard at his show in San Francisco from 2005, a scuffle with a smarmy UK talk show host who was clearly egging him on and other confrontational sparring. While Brown may be able to rhapsodize about how his “DNA is stardust” and that “he lives beneath the wings of an angel and stands within the shadow of a saint” — two memorable lines off of “Stardust” and “Shadow of a Saint” from Music of the Spheres — Brown comes off as an enfant terrible who has charmed some more-than-willing muse. As a child, Brown was inspired by Bruce Lee and Muhammad Ali; he’s still a warrior on the prowl, a street fighter, always striking before being struck. His short fuse landed him in Strangeways, the legendary English prison, where he did four months' time for threatening an airline stewardess with plastic cutlery. Brandishing the soul of a true punk, Brown was playing the Situationist, fronting his political views, which we’ll discuss shortly. While in Strangeways, he converted to Islam, partly because the Muslims had a better big house diet, but also because… he’s a heretic.
Ian Brown is a hero.
The themes on Music of the Spheres center around the profundity of our existence, the potential of being human and the poetry of our cosmic nature; the sound ranges through ambient ode and post-techno glitch to soaring and expansive suites. It’s the outsider’s vision of punk coming into wholeness, discarding nihilism for the miracle of being alive. These are sonic psalms for the new edge, visions arrived at through wrestling with the shadow — Brown’s own immense, post-Roses spectre. Anyone with an even passing interest in finding new forms to experience the luminous and transcendent art of being, not to mention new-agers looking for a new voice of affirmation, should give him a listen and expand their horizons about what the new age genre is all about.
But Ian Brown rarely rests on his laurels or stays in one place stylistically for very long. On Solarized, the follow up to Music of the Spheres, he continues to champion an affirmative voice amidst more exotic Middle Eastern beats and grooves on tracks like “Longsight M13,” “Solarized” and “One Way Ticket to Paradise” where he is ably aided by Aziz Ibrahim on fuzzed-out guitar playing what would traditionally be the lead of an oud. It’s like Coleridge meets Hendrix jamming with Bachir Attar. But the most radical, politically charged and smoking track on the record, this time using a Middle Eastern groove infused with dub, “Kiss Ya Lips (No ID)." Brown takes on the notion of identity and the role it plays — or, in this case, doesn’t play — in security. He riffs on implanted microchips, hijacked jets, false identities and dances on the fringe of conspiracy. It’s not a one-time shot at the system, either — on his newest album, The World Is Yours “King Monkey” (Brown’s nickname) issues what might be the most potent anti-war song of our time; “Illegal Attacks.” The powerful video unravels layer upon layer of irony about the meaning of the war on terror, as he’s joined on vocals by yet another heretic, Sinead O’Connor. If it’s any indication of the rest of the recording, Brown’s most spiritual stance yet seems to be rooted firmly in freedom.
Iconoclastic, explosive, expansive, poetic, mystical and radical, Ian Brown ushers in a new age of musical possibility, obliterating genres, shedding the robes of a high priest from the temple of the safe and appropriate persona. Heretic, hooligan and hero, Ian Brown is a dangerous man.
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