Mike Oldfield

Mike Oldfield was effectively a child prodigy when he first appeared on the rock music scene. Still a teenager, he had helped his sister Sally Oldfield record Sallyangie (Transatlantic, 1968) and had been hired by Kevin Ayers.

At just twenty years old, Mike Oldfield had a revolutionary idea: to record a composition that would fill an entire album, entirely composed, played (on twenty-eight instruments), and arranged by himself (layering eighty tracks). Not only that, he also had the idea to "sew together" different melodic themes inspired by various musical genres. And as a final touch, he decided to perform the entire suite in a style no more experimental than the average FM radio track.
This gave birth to Tubular Bells (Virgin, 1973), an album that (in addition to selling over ten million copies) forever changed the history of instrumental rock. From that moment on, Oldfield became a benchmark for anyone composing tonal poems, electronic or otherwise.
Easily digestible and even presented as a soundtrack, Tubular Bells mixes a bit of everything (Mediterranean melodies, folk, rock and roll, psychedelia, classical music, minimalism) with admirable grace and symphonic length. Oldfield's skill lies first in orchestrating each fragment (and playing it himself) and then gluing the fragments together. The technique follows the melodic fantasies of classical music, but the spectrum of themes and styles Oldfield addresses is much broader. Compared to the progressive rock he came from, Oldfield was also careful to avoid the more convoluted sounds.
The first part opens with an organ repeating the main theme in a frenzied crescendo and a bright timbre. The piano and electronic counterpoint becomes increasingly lively and complex until a flute motif intertwines with the organ. The electric guitar enters with a third variation of the theme, and at that point the orchestra joins in a sudden jolt. The organ fades into the background, giving way to a mandolin playing a Mediterranean variation of the theme. The tinkling of background instruments is drawn into a whirl of electronics, the bass rhythm grows stronger, and the guitar launches into a fiery solo. The electronics turn menacing, the guitar hints at a soundtrack theme and then a pastoral variation of the main theme, gradually building to a bright solo. The guitar yields to a mournful choir and a vintage organ, then dives into a driving hard-rock riff. The first part closes with a pompous crescendo led by the guitar, joined one by one by all instruments, culminating in a triumph of bells and female choir.
The second part is much more folk-like, pastoral, and relaxed. For about ten minutes, the scene is dominated by guitar melodies without a plot. The music suddenly awakens with massive electronic blocks advancing in a martial pace. A hint of pow-wow, and the piano plays a whimsical theme worthy of Todd Rundgren, over which a werewolf-like growl crafts a song. The guitar indulges in a couple of rustic dances. Then the main theme returns in the form of a requiem for organ and Indian-style guitar chirps, and the suite concludes joyfully with a lively guitar-led dance.
Oldfield didn’t know it, but he had just built a bridge between progressive rock and the future new age music.

The next suite, Hergest Ridge (Virgin, 1974), was not as successful. The first part dabbles for a while with Celtic and Renaissance motifs before moving into fanfares and symphonic adagios, leading (without surprises) to the usual triumphant finale for choir and bells. The second part opens with minimalist buzz à la Tubular Bells but is largely dominated by a sweeping dance led by the organ.

Oldfield was obviously seeking something different, but the miracle of his first work was hard to repeat. For Ommadawn (Virgin, 1975), he employed a group of African percussionists, a marching band, and a small choir of boys’ voices, in addition to a flood of orchestral and folk instruments. The best moments are perhaps the most folk-oriented, when Oldfield blends African percussion and Celtic singing (toward the end of Part 1). Part 2 begins with an overdub of guitars creating a symphonic effect. His electronic keyboards and guitars, however, still dominate the soundscape even more emphatically.

Alongside the suites, Oldfield alternated songs derived from well-known pieces (medieval motets, Rossini overtures, folk ballads) that were sure to appeal to audiences (Don Alfonso, 1975; the Christmas carol In Dulce Jubilo, 1975; Portsmouth, 1976; William Tell Overture, The Cuckoo Song, Blue Peter, 1979).

The monumental Incantations (Virgin, 1978), orchestrated by David Bedford, exaggerated in charm and cleverness without adding much new to the previous scores. Part 1 recycles the usual references to Celtic, African, and Middle Eastern music. Part 2 is more original, both because it builds an almost symphonic structure and because it reaches an almost religious intensity. Part 3 is a compelling mix of bolero, dervish, and military march. Part 4 is a somewhat clumsy attempt to close the work on triumphant tones. The disco mix of Guilty (1978) nonetheless opened a new frontier.

After the double live Exposed (Virgin, 1979) and what is perhaps his weakest suite, Platinum (Virgin, 1979), but also the first album containing simple three-minute songs, Oldfield had reached a "dead end."

Q.E.2 (Virgin, 1980) unscrupulously absorbed the beat of disco music in a desperate attempt to find a new audience (Taurus I). The hit was a cover of a traditional piece.

Five Miles Out (Virgin, 1982) returned to the twenty-minute suite (Taurus II) but also experimented with the folk ballad Family Man, elevated by Maggie Reilly’s crystalline contralto, the prototype for the catchiest melody of Oldfield’s entire career, Moonlight Shadow. This was the highlight of Crises (Virgin, 1983), which also included Foreign Affair, In High Places, and the Crises suite.

Oldfield also had some success with the soundtrack for the film The Killing Fields (Virgin, 1984).

To France, from Discovery (Virgin, 1984); Pictures In The Dark (1985); Shine (1986); Flying Start, from Islands (Virgin, 1987); the title track on Earth Moving (Virgin, 1989), an essentially electronic album; Sentinel, from Tubular Bells II (Reprise, 1992) are the hits of the period.

The suites from his later period, however, almost seem like parodies of his earlier prime. Amarok (Virgin, 1990) is the best, a worthy continuation of Ommadawn without the electronic baggage of the previous album. Oldfield employs 65 instruments and adopts a collage style that feels more like a collection of impressions than an organic suite. The Wind Chimes, on Islands (Virgin, 1987); Music From The Balcony, on Heaven's Open (Virgin, 1991); and Tubular Bells II (WEA, 1992) are instead typical examples of his lack of inspiration.

With The Songs Of Distant Earth (Reprise, 1995), Oldfield instead dove into the "ambient" genre for synthesizer and sampling invented by his spiritual successors, Enigma. Tubular World bridges master and disciples. Ascension crowns his attempt to refresh his suites: the cinematic, constantly moving conception of Tubular Bells remains, but the material has progressed beyond melodies and riffs to reach the level of abstract sounds.

The piece of Tubular Bells II (WEA, 1992) is just a few seconds short of one hour. The initial theme sounds like a shameless remix of the original Tubular Bells but with neither the melodic charm nor the rocking bite of the original. An Enya-esque choir is underutilized while piano and guitar repeat the leitmotiv. Sixteen minutes into the piece we also hear the pulsing bass figure that led to the hard-rock riff, but here it leads to a folkish ballet and a lame poppy riff. Better is the melancholy guitar melody that follows and the Ennio Morricone-esque chant that rises, but this lasts only a few seconds, soon replaced by a festive reprise of the leitmotiv through variations led by different instruments. After about half an hour the piece restarts but mainly meanders in search of direction. The female chant returns around minute 41 and signals the rise of the best guitar melody. The chaotic finale includes scottish hornpipes at marching tempo, hard-rock guitar, orchestral pomp, melancholy sighs and even a bluegrass banjo.

After the celtic tribute Voyager (WEA, 1996), Oldfield relocated to Ibiza (Spain), and, influenced by the booming acid-house scene, recorded Tubular Bells III (Reprise, 1998), not a hour-long suite like its two predecessors but a collection of 11 songs, which weds the decades old melody with pulsating electronic beats and exotic chanting (The Source of Secrets), trading the folk roots for lounge muzak (Jewel in the Crown), but also rediscovering the power of hard-rock guitar (Outcast). Sung by Cara Dillon, Man in the Rain imitates Moonlight Shadow.

Oldfield couldn't resist celebrating the millennium with The Millennium Bell (WEA, 1999), and tried to improve his status as a composer by releasing Guitars (WEA, 1999) and Tr3s Lunas (2002), an interactive video album.

He then released: Tubular Bells 2003 (2003), Light + Shade (2005), Music of the Spheres (2008), Man on the Rocks (2014), Return to Ommadawn (2017).

Elements (Virgin, 1993) is probably the best anthology.