By the time
Phew
recorded
Our Likeness
in the late '80s, she was already well established within the experimental music scene thanks to her time with the pioneering Japanese punk band
Aunt Sally
and her solo work. Since the beginning of her career, she's collaborated with similarly innovative artists ranging from
Ryuichi Sakamoto
, who produced her debut single, to legendary producer
Conny Plank
and
Can
's
Holger Czukay
Jaki Liebezeit
, who contributed to her 1981 self-titled debut album. Also in attendance at those sessions was
DAF
Liaisons Dangereuses
'
Chrislo Haas
, who struck up a friendship with
that led to the creation of
. Recorded at
Plank
's studio with
Liebezeit
on drums,
Haas
on keyboards,
Crime & the City Solution
Thomas Stern
on bass, and
Einstuerzende Neubauten
Alexander Hacke
on guitar,
's third solo album finds her making the most of her all-star band as she challenges expectations. Opting for a set of discrete experiments instead of the more cohesive feel of some of her later work,
falls somewhere in between
's improvisations and the more structured pieces of 1987's
View
. Nearly every track makes striking use of contrast. On "Smell," one of the album's most overtly experimental pieces, the band's seismic blasts sound like they're shaking the studio loose from its foundations, but it's the smaller signs of disarray -- the clatter of dropped coins, the wobbly ringing of glasses full of water -- that add playful, immersive detail and reflect
's knack for intricately layered instrumentation. Her vocals also run the gamut, ranging from "Being"'s heaving snarls to the hypnotic whispers of "Ocean," the sultry, avant-surf ballad that closes the album. When
and company touch on familiar sounds in disorienting ways, it's arguably more unexpected than
' more confrontational moments. "Spring"'s elastic bass and guitar nod to post-punk, but its unearthly vibe and mid-song eruption of sax and synths defy easy categorization. "Like Water and Water" is similarly hard to pin down: both smoky and mercurial, its roots appear to be in jazz and no wave, while flitting electronics add sci-fi strangeness to its noir mood. Though it feels like everyone involved pushes each song to its limit,
' experiments are never just cerebral. The creative chemistry is especially palpable on "Depth of the Forehead," a lurching, monstrous showcase for
Stern
's massive rhythms,
' klaxon synths,
Hacke
's slashing chords, and
's voice, which always rises above the fray. She had so many ideas on
that she didn't return to some of them for years; the quietly suspenseful mood she creates on "Last Song" has more in common with later work like 2021's
New Decade
than the rest of this album. Originally released by
Mute
in 1992 and reissued by the label over 30 years later,
is a tour de force from an artist whose imaginative spirit always burns bright. ~ Heather Phares