Brian Eno, Here Come The Warm Jets, 1974.

ever to be the iconoclast Eno's debut solo album was a sign of things to come: aggressively innovative yet derivative too, catchy but strangely inaccessible, the stuff of daydreams and nightmares. i first heard this album almost 30 years ago and i still murmur off the odd line of it now and again, air-guitaring Robert Fripp's zonky riffs.
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maxd