I first discovered Thomas Dolby in the Spring of 1989 on a program called Classic MTV. It was a thirty-minute show that showed 5-6 music videos and was hosted by returning-VJ Martha Quinn. I discovered a lot of artists via this show. The video was "She Blinded Me With Science" and Thomas Dolby made a big impression twelve-year old me. The song had an insanely catchy, quirky hook and Dolby generally sounded like the younger brother of Gary Numan and Andy Partridge. The low melodic synth line that precedes the "Science!" sounded vaguely sinister and the understated funky, chorused guitar was (and still is) a favorite pet guitar sound of mine. Quintessential new wave with a decidedly quirky bent. I was sold on Mr. Dolby.
I went out and bought the 7" single and Golden Age Of Wireless cassette at Record World later that week. MTV had done its job. There was another cassette tape in the Thomas Dolby section too; Aliens Ate My Buick. The cover was an homage to classic, campy B-Movie posters (although, I didn't know this at the time). It just looked sort of dopey and silly and twelve-year old me was not interested. I eventually picked up the album many years later. In the interim I'd fallen in love with both The Golden Age Of Wireless and its underappreciated follow-up The Flat Earth.
I had no knowledge of what had led-up to this album. Dolby scored a few films, moved to Los Angeles and married an actress. The album - produced by Bill Bottrell (Madonna, Sheryl Crow and Michael Jackson) - definitely sounds like an L.A.-album from the later 1980's (I don't think I've ever heard that description be used in a complimentary way) which, it in fact is. It spawned three singles; the Caucasian-funk of "Airhead", which has cliche-ridden observations of dumb Hollywood blondes and sounds like it could've been the theme to Earth Girls Are Easy. "Hot Sauce" which was written by George Clinton of all people and employs a definite Prince-influence. The song sounds like it might've worked if it was handled by another artist. The thin production - and mastering of the day - sort of deflates the whole thing. and "My Brain Is Like A Sieve" which isn't a bad song, but the arrangement sounds vaguely wrong and is, again, sabotaged by a weird mix and/or ill-suited production.
The remainder of the album is all-over the place. "The Keys To Her Ferrari" has a self-consciously wacky big-band arrangement with unpleasant keyboard sounds. "Pulp Culture" sounds like Beck about ten years before his excursions on Midnight Vultures. In general, Dolby comes off lyrically like the smartest kid in the class being humored by the teachers, as he attempts to be humorous; it just comes off as embarrassing. But here, Dolby sounds like he's impossible to embarrass. Ouch.
The final two songs on the album proper are both excellent and makes me wish Dolby had recorded more straight-forward tracks like these instead of attempting to sell an overripe, wacky-persona with misguided funk exercises. Co-written with sometime-collaborator Matthew Seligman of The Soft Boys, "The Ability To Swing" has a low-key jazzy shuffle. And despite Dolby's curiously affected vocals, the lyrics are direct and effective. Random aside; the chorused bassline also reminds me of that scene in The Breakfast Club where the detentioned teens are all bored and falling asleep.
The last track on the album is the positively excellent "Budapest By Blimp". At over eight-minutes long, what could be an overlong exercise in atmospherics, turns out to be a sublime soundscape with wonderful musical and lyrical imagery. It singularly displays what makes Thomas Dolby such a special artist; unexpected depth and surprising poignancy wrapped in quirky packaging with casually intelligent lyrics. Some wonderfully understated vocals from Dolby and ethereal female backing vocals on this track as well. Absolutely beautiful
The final song on the compact disc and cassette editions of the album is "May The Cube Be With You", which was originally released in in 1985 under the moniker Dolby's Cube. It's a flat, rote P-Funk-styled singalong featuring George Clinton himself and Lene Lovich (the latter of whom Dolby wrote "New Toy" for, about his desire for a new synthesizer). It ends things in a rather unspectacular fashion.
Aside from the two tracks mentioned toward the end of the album, an unfortunate collection of material by an artist whose work is generally excellent.
