Double exposure

OK, here's one that's so nice, I'm gonna give it to you twice. Sorta. So Gabriel and Fripp played on each other's solo albums around the same time and decided to each take a turn at this song. If you can really call it a song. It's more like a riff and an attitude. Or an attempt at attitude. Which is maybe why I like it so much—2 overeducated English prog vets trying to be all 1978 New York dance-gritty. It's an awkward fit and its success and failure are equally endearing.

Of course, there's also the dork appeal. All the instruments are playing in different times. Hear it? Drums in straight 4/4, bass in a slinky 5/4, rhythm guitar in 3/4 but with self-effacement worthy of James Brown. And how about that bass. Tony Levin sounds like he's trying to rip the strings clean off. And of course, those heavenly Frippertronics fluttering around.

I like Gabriel's decision to make it lumber, with the bass all big and a slight delay in the snare as it whaps across the stereo field. And it's cool to hear him all out of his comfort zone with the speak-singing. Then he builds up to a shrieking that captures a depravity he's rarely equaled.

Peter Gabriel - Exposure

Interesting to hear how Fripp plays it. In a sense it's none too surprising—an academic exercise in letting Eno speak slowly while his guru gets some prime audio real estate with a sentiment that seems way less profound than it was meant to. Luckily, he's got that howling lady to steal the spotlight. With the rhythm section set deeper back, the tension rises. You get the sense of a bunch of elements that don't really fit together and seem to anxiously co-inhabit space. Maybe this was the 1978 feel they were looking for.

Robert Fripp - Exposure