Dead Bees On A Cake

From fake funk and fake fur to respected artist, it's been a somewhat arduous path to where he is, for David Sylvian.

At pains to forget his past and produce music that is relevant, it has taken him an inordinately long time to complete the follow-up to his last solo album Secrets Of The Beehive (1987). The sleeve acknowledges "the many musicians . . . whose contributions didn't make the final cut," suggesting that there was much building and re-building of the sounds here. Furthermore, it is clearly the work of an artist much more concerned with creativity than commerciality, being more akin to world music or jazz than anything mainstream. And it's all the better for that.

There is a strong sense of the personal, of self discovery and spiritual depth, in the album's sensual mix of east and west, and in its poetic grace and quiet beauty. It is the kind of album that requires the right mood or time of day to fully reveal its essential strength. 'Surrender', the opening track and first single, sets the tone for what follows: with its muted r'n'b wah-wah guitar, electric piano, flute and flugelhorn, it takes you to a place of innocence and hope, that Sylvian revisits throughout the record's 70 minutes.

For Dead Bees On A Cake, Sylvian is accompanied by many of the musicians with whom he has worked in the past, including his brother Steve Jensen, guitarist Marc Ribot and Ryuichi Sakamoto, as well as newcomers like Talvin Singh. The generally lush atmosphere created by the musicians is sometimes contrasted by the simpler approach to songs like 'Praise (Pratah Smatami)' which features the voice of Shree Maa (Indian saint/guru), or 'Dobro No.1' where Sylvian's vocal and keyboards are highlighted by Bill Frisell's soft dobro playing.

There are many moments and moods to savour on Dead Bees On A Cake, an album which will richly reward those who have long followed David Sylvian's singular creative path. Not for everyone, perhaps, but without doubt, this is adventurous art, human and thoughtful.