It was with genuine sadness that I learned of the passing of Mark Hollis of Talk Talk, today. I've spoken at greater length about the impact of their 1988 album The Spirit of Eden, but I cannot underscore how seismically meaningful that record was for me, leant further poignance by the fact that so few seem to know of its singular beauty. To enjoy and acknowledge the sumptuous splendor of latter-era Talk Talk records is strangely like being in on some big secret, and it is unfair that it should be that way.
I was already a fan, prior to that record. I was unapologetically onboard for Talk Talk’s arguably less salubrious skinny-tied synth-pop era, which gradually gave way to the more “organic” sound of their third album, The Colour of Spring, before the full-blown point of departure that was The Spirit of Eden. Many hail the band's final album, Laughing Stock, as their crowning achievement, but nothing tops The Spirit of Eden, for me. For me, it’s a crucial “dessert island disc.” I want to be buried with a copy.
Following Laughing Stock, Hollis released a solo album in 1998, before vanishing from music to take care of his family, becoming something of a mysterious recluse in the Syd Barrett vein. I’d always hoped he’d re-emerge to both be justifiably recognized for his genius and to hopefully unleash new music on the world. While I am selfishly saddened we’ll probably hear no further music from the man, here’s hoping his passing brings greater attention to the gifts he left behind.
Rest in peace, Mark.
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