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**Ultravox - Rage In Eden ★★★★☆**

When Ultravox called it quits in 1987, they left behind a legacy that had transformed them from punk-adjacent art rockers into synth-pop royalty. But if you want to understand the precise moment when their creative ambitions reached their zenith—perhaps even overreached—you need to rewind to 1981's "Rage In Eden," an album that stands as both their most adventurous statement and their most frustrating near-miss.

By the time they entered Conny Plank's legendary studio in Cologne, Ultravox had already struck gold with "Vienna," the album that rescued them from post-punk obscurity and launched them into the stratosphere of new wave stardom. The pressure was immense: how do you follow up a record that spawned one of the decade's most iconic singles and essentially invented the template for dramatic, orchestral synth-pop? The answer, it turned out, was to dive headfirst into sonic experimentation while wrestling with increasingly complex philosophical themes.

"Rage In Eden" finds the band—Midge Ure's soaring vocals, Chris Cross's melodic bass lines, Billy Currie's violin and synthesizer wizardry, and Warren Cann's precise drumming—pushing their sound into darker, more abstract territory. Where "Vienna" was immediate and accessible despite its sophistication, this follow-up demands patience and rewards careful listening. It's an album that reveals new layers with each spin, though it occasionally threatens to collapse under the weight of its own ambitions.

The opening salvo of "The Voice" immediately signals the band's intent to challenge their audience. Built around a hypnotic, almost industrial rhythm and featuring some of Ure's most passionate vocal work, it's a song about communication breakdown that ironically communicates with devastating clarity. The track's seven-minute runtime allows the band to explore every corner of their sonic palette, from Currie's haunting violin to layers of synthesizers that seem to breathe with organic life.

"We Came to Dance" provides the album's most immediate hook, a driving anthem that bridges the gap between their art-rock aspirations and their pop sensibilities. It's here that Ultravox demonstrates their unique ability to make the cerebral feel visceral, wrapping complex musical arrangements around irresistible melodies. The song became a moderate hit, though it never quite captured the public imagination like "Vienna" had.

The title track represents perhaps the album's boldest gambit—a sprawling, nine-minute epic that unfolds like a musical novel. Beginning with delicate piano and building to orchestral grandeur, it's simultaneously their most pretentious and most successful experiment. Lyrically, Ure grapples with themes of paradise lost and spiritual seeking, while the band creates a sonic landscape that feels both ancient and futuristic. It's the kind of song that either completely wins you over or leaves you checking your watch, with little middle ground.

"Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again)" showcases the band's gentler side, a melancholic ballad that demonstrates their growing sophistication as songwriters. Currie's violin work here is particularly exquisite, weaving around Ure's vulnerable vocal delivery like smoke. Meanwhile, "Accent on Youth" pulses with nervous energy, its staccato rhythms and angular melodies creating an atmosphere of urban anxiety that feels remarkably prescient.

The album's production, courtesy of the band themselves along with Conny Plank, deserves special mention. Every sound has been carefully sculpted and positioned in the mix, creating a three-dimensional sonic environment that was revolutionary for its time. The drums crack with precision, the synthesizers breathe with analog warmth, and Ure's vocals float above it all with crystalline clarity.

Yet for all its ambitions, "Rage In Eden" feels like an album at war with itself. The band's desire to create art occasionally conflicts with their instinct for crafting memorable songs, resulting in moments of genuine brilliance alongside passages that feel overly cerebral. It's their "difficult" album, the one that devoted fans treasure while casual listeners find impenetrable.

Today, "Rage In Eden" stands as a fascinating artifact of early-80s ambition, an album that captures a band at the height of their creative powers but perhaps not their commercial instincts. It's essential listening for anyone seeking to understand how synth-pop evolved beyond simple formulas into something approaching high art. Whether that evolution was entirely successful remains