1991 Enigma: Sadness Part One

As if to banish the nasty and brutish metal of Iron Maiden, Enigma's mood piece of soft synths and chanting provided as near as dammit a polar opposite number one from their racket that, if nothing else, showed just what an eclectic bunch the British record buying public still were. An early memory of 'Sadness' was of the execrable Simon Bates enthusing on his radio show about how different, innovative and other worldly it all was, but the fact I wouldn't trust Bates' views on the colour of orange juice notwithstanding, 'Sadness' to me sounded like a radio friendly version of the more esoteric end of the late eighties 4AD catalogue that I was then listening to. Dead Can Dance, Cocteau Twins, Wolfgang Press and, perhaps most tellingly, the 'Le Mystere Des Voix Bulgares' series had long since sewn up the European Gothic and Baroque drum machines and sequencer mix market, albeit never in such a blatantly soft soap way as this.

As a piece of music (and from the cover in), 'Sadness' goes out of its way to present itself as an artefact of depth and mystery (it's original German title is 'Sadeness' and the music was meant to question the sexual deviance of the Marquis de Sade no less), but in so doing it promises a level of substance it never makes good on and its own blend of those gothic influences, Gregorian chants and French language styling have all the mystery of a Scooby Doo ghost. Us Brits wouldn't have given two hoots about those de Sade references and all that monking anyway and were happy to take it at face value, and that's fine - Sadness/Sadeness/Whatever. But for as far as Bates and his otherworldly-ness goes, there's no suspension of belief here that convinces me that 'Sadness' is broadcasting from another time or another place. Because whilst I can lose myself in a track like the Cocteau's 'Persephone', for the whole length of 'Sadness' I'm always conscious that it's just chief Enigma-ist Michael Cretu going 'Wooooo' under a bedsheet. It's not something I hate, but I don't have a whole lot of use for it either; too busy for eyes closed in the bath ambience, too slouchy to dance to 'Sadness' stands like a marble statue - a decent enough piece in its own right but a pain in the arse if you've got nowhere to put it. And I don't I'm afraid.