It is conventional wisdom not to go grocery shopping when you're hungry. Well, you probably shouldn't listen to ambient pop either because you might wind up thinking about everything in terms of food. Brian Eno's Another Green World reminds me of nothing more than a multi-course meal served up by a seasoned cook. Years of watching Top Chef have taught me the important distinction between mastering a culinary technique and cooking intuitively. Those who concentrate on the former - like Hung with his sous-vide or Marcel with his molecular gastronomy - are essentially scientists who work methodically, with precision. Those who concentrate on the latter - the Carlas and Caseys who "cook with love" - refine their natural instincts for food and how it will be received by its audience. Last weekend, I used a gift certificate to check out Hattie's in Saratoga Springs. Now, I've been to the south. I've eaten boudin in Lafayette, crawfish étouffée in New Orleans, pulled pork in Memphis, catfish in Georgia, pit-fired sausage in Texas, and brisket in Kansas City. But I've never had fried chicken better than Hattie's. Now it may be a passed-down technique that helps her restaurant continue to satisfy its customers, but her original recipe? That was intuition all the way. Brian Eno is an intuitive cook. He didn't go all in on ambient composition until Discreet Music, which came out later in the same year as Another Green World, but this album is nonetheless a powerful document of the direction in which he was moving. In many ways, this is a painless, accessible introduction to experimental rock. First, there are vocal tracks - gorgeous synth-pop songs like "St. Elmo's Fire," "I'll Come Running," and "Golden Hours" - so fans of Roxy Music won't feel too far from home. But there are also wonderful instrumental pieces ("The Big Ship") built around very simple melodies that, like comfort food, contain tremendous stores of emotional resonance. Like any cook, Eno pays a great deal of attention to textures and pairings. Some of the shorter pieces ("In Dark Trees," "Sombre Reptiles") seem to perform the function of sonic palate cleansers, muting the haunting notes of the most recent flavor and preparing the way for the next. It is a satisfying album from start to finish. Only, maybe don't listen to it on an empty stomach. I'm going to get something to eat. Grade: A
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