liminal
Brian Eno and Beatie Wolfe, Verve Records

One sunny October day, I found myself in a field in New Jersey, gazing up at a giant metallic marvel. I was at the Holmdel Horn Antenna, and I can confidently say it was the most peculiar album launch I’ve ever experienced. Beside me stood Nobel Prize laureate Robert Wilson, the astronomer who reshaped our understanding of the universe. In 1964, he and his colleague Arno Penzias uncovered the cosmic microwave background radiation (CMB), a faint energy signature permeating the cosmos and a significant confirmation of the Big Bang theory.

In addition to this cosmic radiation is liminal, the third installment in a trilogy of albums by ambient music innovator Brian Eno and conceptual artist Beatie Wolfe. Wolfe and Eno refer to their album as “dark matter music,” a fitting description for the enigmatic yet captivating tracks it encompasses. “This album ties everything together, bringing forth the unseen elements surrounding us,” says Wolfe. Eno elaborates, “There’s a notion that the universe teems with entities we cannot perceive.”

Wilson and his colleague Greg Wright repurposed the Holmdel Horn, transforming the 16-ton antenna from a receiver to a transmitter. We leaned over the signal modulator, attempting to catch a glimpse of Wolfe’s resonant voice through the tiny apparatus. “Beatie’s voice possesses a beautiful, rich undertone that’s often elusive,” Wilson noted. But through the horn, the authentic recording emerges, even if it’s inaudible from where I stood.

“The beam width measures around 1 degree, thus any triangulation will diminish the signal before it escapes Earth’s orbit,” Wilson explained. He asserted that the album’s signal is potent enough to resonate within low Earth orbit, but by the time it reaches the moon, it will be drowned out by the CMB.

Wright and Wilson directed their horns skyward, ready to transmit a message: liminal to the stars. The album depicts a surreal landscape, with layered synths and guitars creating lush ambient tracks, interspersed with songs that showcase Wolfe’s poignant vocals. The immersion is surreal, nearly impossible to articulate—listening felt like the sensation of slipping off a ship and drifting into the vastness of the ocean in a liberating manner.

Following the release of two albums earlier this year, Luminal and Lateral Direction, this work completes the trilogy. “Frequently, when I revisit my work, I struggle to recall how I crafted it,” Wolfe admits. “Including who actually generated the sounds,” Eno adds. “It’s akin to having an intriguing dialogue with someone; you often forget the nuances of how it unfolded.”

The album flows like a conversation, transitioning between dynamic yet tense tracks such as matrix, coupled with foreboding robotic lyrics amidst a whirlwind of drones. Then it evolves into something all-encompassing and deeply evocative, epitomized by little boy—Eno’s favored track.

“Over the past 70 or 80 years, the most significant development in music has been the ability to create new sonic realms that only exist in a fictional sense,” he explains. “One could employ a year-long reverb or fabricate an infinitely expansive space. What we aim to explore is these novel environments and the experience of existing within them.”

While it’s common to label ambient music as “otherworldly,” liminal offers more than that. Its edges lack polish, rendering the human voice and imperfections audible. “Recognizing that different individuals contributed to these creations was crucial,” says Eno. “Interestingly, this view contributes to my skepticism about AI. While I admire AI-generated content, I often feel a void when I realize it was produced by a machine.”

When I inquired whether they believed someone in space might hear their music after transmitting it, they surprised me by revealing they don’t really consider their audience during the creative process. “The beauty of this music lies in the fact that we weren’t focused on anyone while crafting it. We created it simply because it felt enjoyable, thrilling, and exploratory,” Wolfe reflects.

“Play is integral to science, just as it is to art. All the scientists I know are driven by their fascination. It’s the same underlying motivation, as they feel they’re uncovering something profound and significant.”

I recall Wilson, standing in the room where he transformed our comprehension of the cosmic timeline, smiling at his laptop as he discussed the current state of music. It is stretching out beyond the Moon, mingling with the rest of the dark matter on its journey to the constellation Canis Major.