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‘Eno’ Review: A Compelling Portrait of Music Visionary Brian Eno Is Different Each Time You Watch It
Gary Hustwit's documentary about the legendary ambient-music-innovator-turned-producer uses generative software to reorder itself with each viewing.
In 1972, when he first came onto the scene as the 24-year-old synthesizer wizard of Roxy Music, he sported a look that was pure glam, except that he somehow appeared even more baroque than the gender-bending rock stars of the time (the New York Dolls, Bowie, Lou Reed), because they were Dionysian pansexual strutters, whereas Eno was his own unique thing: a delicate sci-fi gamine, a geek in thrift-shop drag. He wore light blue eye shadow and pinkish lipstick and jackets with huge shoulder pads that sprouted shiny black feathers, but his hair was thinning on top and long and wispy on the sides, and his pout gave him the look of a passionflower extraterrestrial. And even in 1976, when he cut his hair, ditched the glam threads, and began to collaborate with Bowie on what would come to be known as the Berlin Trilogy (“Low,” “Heroes,” “Lodger”), establishing his singular flair as a record producer, Eno still had the aura of an exotic mad scientist.
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