David Sylvian, once 'the most beautiful man in pop', has kept his dignity and muse better than any of his 1980's pop contemporaries.
Even at the time his presence in the pages of teen mags seemed a bizarre mistake, and this
double CD retrospective ('greatest hits' would be overstating matters somewhat) paints a portrait of a man always at odds with the conventional pop world.
Stretching back to his work with Japan and the sparse otherworldly electronica of 'Ghosts' (surely one of the most unusual Top of the Pops songs of all time), a consistent mood of artsy languor is conjured.
Sparse, Satie-like piano chords drape themselves across lazy, brushed drum patterns, peculiar guitar and keyboard noises squawk away at unsettling points, while Sylvian's rich, ennui-laden voice, like Bryan Ferry stranded in the desert, seems barely able to lift its head.
The music retains a consistent mutant pop feel, from Japan and the later reincarnation 'Rain Tree Crow' (Sylvian baulked at the commercialism involved in an actual Japan 'reunion'), to his work with fellow mavericks Ryuichi Sakamoto and Robert Fripp (his even more obscure ambient works - solo and with Holger Czukay - are left aside).
Replete with unreleased and remixed rarities, this is unmissable for the Sylvian completist, although the teen-mag constituency will doubtless remain unconverted.
