Ed O’Brien: Blue Morpho

Ed O’Brien is the latest in a long line of songwriters to use their art to face the void. On John Frusciante’s soul-baring 2004 album The Will to Death, the Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist explored the idea of approaching death as a means of knowing life. Phil Elverum practiced this philosophy on his grief-stricken 2017 record as Mount Eerie, A Crow Looked at Me, witnessing life in the wake of his wife’s tragic death in all its mundanity and beauty. O’Brien, the spiritual beacon among his anxious and technically prodigious Radiohead bandmates, found such wisdom in the words of Kentucky poet and farmer Wendell Berry: “To know the dark, go dark.” Blue Morpho, the guitarist’s second solo album and first under his full name, builds this worldview in two primary modes: persistent grooves and verdant ambiance. Each plays its own important role in conveying how O’Brien emerged from the darkest period of his life, a deep depression amid the global pandemic that clouded the April 2020 release of his debut solo record as EOB, Earth. A disjointed set of genre exercises that drew from experiences coming up in the ‘90s alternative scene and living in Brazil, the album nonetheless contained radiant moments that were never fully celebrated on stage with audiences. Decades of emotional trauma rushed to the surface in the following months, and O’Brien, at the guidance of his wife Suzi, finally leaned in. He learned to feel what he had previously suppressed, taking up daily meditation, cold plunges and hours upon hours of solitary guitar playing. “To know the dark, go dark.” Slowly, he took on collaborators to help bring his developing songs to life, starting with pop mogul Paul Epworth (Adele, Rihanna, Coldplay) and then welcoming former Sons of Kemet bandleader Shabaka Hutchings, string composer Tõnu Kõrvits and Earth producer Flood of New Order and U2 fame. The result is a work that represents O’Brien’s experience, rather than just his interests. His persistence and ultimate perseverance shine through tracks that blend ‘90s electronica, trip-hop and Krautrock. “Teachers” is powered by a pulsing, restless bass line, spooky synths and metallic drums as O’Brien repeats “Mid-way through life I just lost my way.” It’s intentionally unsubtle, facing the darkness head-on. Swirling production morphs the vocals into a perfect Zooropa-era Bono impression before a gripping outro of cool Thievery Corporation keyboard, distant saxophone and O’Brien’s accepting pleas of “Open wide.” Opener “Incantations” is similarly driven, a cyclical acoustic line grounding an expansive journey. Tribal drums and chants build tension as O’Brien yearns to become one with the soil and “see the beauty in the dark.” The brooding timbre and motion recall Brian Eno and U2’s Passengers album as well as earlier Krautrock influences, a familiar practice on Radiohead songs like “These Are My Twisted Words” and “Ful Stop.” The other side of the Blue Morpho coin is equally effective, an exquisite palette of strings and ambient electronics that paints O’Brien’s connection with his mental state in all its darkness and light. “Sweet Spot” sits on the razor’s edge. Its foundation is another cyclical acoustic melody, this time coloring an ominous mood that builds with strings and tasteful electronic touches reminiscent of Beth Gibbons’ work (with Portishead and especially more recently as a solo artist). The title track is warmer, featuring a field recording of springtime birds and determined acoustic fingerpicking behind sweeping, immersive orchestrals. In temporary moments of conflict, the strings resemble the tension on A Moon Shaped Pool. At their most hopeful, they sound like Coldplay’s grander attempts—a monotone five-count vocal melody in the back half especially reminds of the band’s A Rush of Blood to the Head cut “Daylight.” Later, a pair of instrumentals, “Solfeggio” and “Thin Places,” sit back-to-back as a meditation, both blissful and anticipatory in their build to an exultant finale. “Obrigado” blends both of Blue Morpho’s strategies with grace. Its first half is a delicious groove cut through with grateful shouts of “Obrigado!”, its second an epic psychedelic finale one part Pink Floyd one part Maggot Brain. It’s a triumphant and satisfying ending to a moving transformation, from the unsure performer EOB to the holistic artist and singular human Ed O’Brien.