ULTRAVOX - RAGE IN EDEN

The history of music is full of brilliant, outstanding, and stunning albums. However, each of them has some particular features that distinguish it from the others. In the case of “Rage In Eden”, in short, one could say it’s the immensely powerful, emotional, even dramatic atmosphere of the whole thing. Released in 1981, this album is a work that not only serves as a natural bridge between the futuristic sound of the 1980s and a romantic, almost cinematic approach to composition, but in fact boldly appropriates all of these elements and uses them in an almost perfect way. Sometimes, in reference to albums, a phrase is used – “stood the test of time.” But in this case, I feel that – like in that Chuck Norris joke – it was time itself that stood the test of this album. In my personal ranking, which has no rules, no meaning, changes constantly and basically doesn’t even exist because I never made it 😊, “Rage In Eden” sits at the very top of the upper zone of high states – and has been there practically since the moment it was released. Okay, fine... to the question “which three albums would you take to a desert island,” I answer: “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin’s “IV”, and “Rage In Eden” by Ultravox.

 

Yes, I know… I can already hear the voices – but what do you mean? After all, “Vienna” is a brilliant album, a trendsetter, it contains the titular mega killer hit, forever inscribed in the history of all kinds of music, the Romantics of Rock Music, a lonely man in the rain, in a coat, on a platform... that must be Tomasz Beksiński… ehh, I got carried away 😊. And all of that is true. “Vienna” is a masterpiece. Surely, there will still be a chance to write more about it one day, but it was on “Rage In Eden” that Ultravox reached the heights of the absolute masterpiece – without falling deeper into overstatement. Never before and never again did they record anything close to that level. Maybe it's not as immediately captivating as “Vienna”, but it's far more complex and ambitious.

 

The arrangements are refined in incredibly subtle detail, the lyrics carry much depth, and the energetic, somewhat ecstatic tone of “Vienna” was replaced by a thoughtful, atmospheric, almost gloomy mood. There are no enthusiastic bursts like “New Europeans” or “Passing Strangers”, but there is deep, intense lyrical content and carefully crafted, beautifully melancholic arrangements. What also sets “Rage In Eden” apart is not just the excellent compositions, but also the outstanding production. Thanks to the work of Conny Plank, one of the greatest visionaries of sound engineering, the album sounds incredibly clear and modern even after four decades. Every sound is perfected – from subtle reverbs and delays to drums that practically explode with dynamics. There's a saying that good music has no expiration date. This is one of the proofs of that statement. I’d bet that in another four decades, the artistic status of “Rage In Eden” will remain unshaken – assuming, of course, that people will still be listening to any kind of music at all. And I emphasize – music.

 

All of this makes me want to simply repeat after Midge Ure – for me, too, this is an absolutely exceptional album and the most favorite of all favorites. In an interview for Super Deluxe Edition on 30.09.2022, the vocalist and guitarist of Ultravox recalled working on the album:

 

“…It was a brave record and […] it’s probably my favorite Ultravox album. With Vienna, before entering the studio, we had already been touring with most of the songs, so the recording process went incredibly fast. It took only three weeks. Recording Rage In Eden took three months. Most people expected Vienna Part Two, but we absolutely didn’t want to do that. We went to Conny Plank’s studio in the middle of nowhere, somewhere outside Cologne, with no ideas at all. We might have had a riff or a chord progression, but we had no finished songs. We created the entire album in the studio. Conny’s studio and his creativity became our additional instrument. At that time, we were either incredibly brave or incredibly naive and stupid, but it turned out really well. We created an album we couldn’t have made under any other circumstances. This album has its own character, atmosphere, darkness, that can’t be invented. It was a reflection of where we were and who we were at that moment. If you spend three months in a studio in the middle of nowhere, in the German countryside, you’re going to have your ups and downs. That’s reflected in the music. Some of the songs couldn’t have been written if we hadn’t created them that way. We couldn’t just sit at a piano and write Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again). We couldn’t see the final picture as we were creating it, but we knew it was going to be interesting. When it was finished, we were all happy with it. It’s a great example of a band working really well together.”

 

At this point, it’s high time to introduce the fifth member of Ultravox. Just as George Martin was the fifth Beatle, Konrad “Conny” Plank was the man without whom Systems Of Romance, Vienna, and Rage In Eden would never have come into existence in the form we know today. A legendary figure who worked with Kraftwerk, Neu!, Ash Ra Tempel, Eurythmics, DAF – to name just a few of the greats. In 1970, Conny began building a one-of-a-kind mixing desk, based on his own specifications that only he truly understood. It was his child, constantly improved with components he either built or tested himself. Conny Plank was essentially the only person who could operate that console. Custom-sized to Plank’s own physical proportions, the 56-channel mixer – hand-laminated with cherry wood from his own garden – was a weapon that, much like Conny himself, recognized no limitations. The process of perfecting the desk continued until Plank’s death in 1987. But the desk alone wasn’t everything – what truly mattered was the producer’s incredible sensitivity and inventiveness. Once again, Midge Ure:

 

“…Conny described the tracks in a very visual way. On Vienna, he said: ‘I see an old man playing the piano in an empty ballroom. He’s been playing the same melody for 40 years and he’s very tired now.’ And that’s exactly how the piano sounds in that song. On Rage In Eden, it was: ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the song disappeared into space, and the radio waves broke apart until, in the very last second, you could hear someone turning it off?’ And that’s exactly what he did. We listened to the result and said: ‘Wow, this is great!’ That kind of language for describing sound was, for Conny, more of a way of communicating than speaking English.”

 

By the autumn of 1981, I was already completely immersed, head and all, in British new wave and new romantic music, eagerly discovering and following the works of Gary Numan, The Human League, Japan, Visage… well, I could go on forever! In any case, as a result of a strange twist of events during a Turbo concert at the Promień cinema in Szczecin in 1980, I ended up in possession of Ultravox’s Vienna album, and I immediately understood what set this band apart from the entire new romantic scene. I didn’t know the band’s history at the time, so for me, Vienna was a debut album on which Ultravox had already gone far beyond their moment in pop history. Okay, in a way, I was right. It was the debut of the band’s second incarnation. What struck me most was the captivating melodic warmth of their music, stemming in part from the richness of the arrangements. The vocalist’s incredible voice, the almost metronomic drumming without any showy flourishes, the solidly grounded bass from both the synthesizers and the guitar, and then the cascading piano garlands, weeping violins, wailing guitar solos… No one was doing anything like this yet. At least not under my roof. In the cold depths of Gary Numan’s, The Human League’s, or early OMD’s futurism, nothing exploded, nothing erupted in cascades of sound. All of those bands delivered killer hits, true, but Ultravox had incredible lines of synthesizers, guitars, violins, and cellos embedded in a powerful rhythm section. This wasn’t dehumanized, ascetic playing. Four musical volcanoes were spewing out massive layers of human emotion, instantly enchanting the listener. To this day, I thank Providence that at a critical moment it stopped me from buying Point Of Entry by Judas Priest - which I already knew from the radio (a fantastic album, by the way!) - for 1,100 zlotys at the time, and instead tempted me with the price of just seven “packs” (that’s what we used to call 100-zloty notes) for a brand-new copy of Vienna, a bit of a gamble, as I only knew the title track… “You won’t regret it, man, I’m telling you. I brought it for someone, they didn’t show up, and I’m not taking it back to Poznań…” said the seller - and I believed him. And… he was right. I didn’t regret it. A little over a year later, with trembling hands, I paid 1,250 zlotys for Rage In Eden, no bargaining, just happy to have spotted it at the record fair before my friends… And you know what? I didn't regret it even more!

 

Native these words seem to me

All speech directed to me

I've heard them once before

I know that feeling

 

Stranger emotions in mind

Changing the contours I find

I've seen them once before

Someone cries to me

 

“The voice”*

 

An explosion of an incredible wall of sound with Midge Ure’s subdued, forward-placed vocal in the verses, only to erupt wildly in the chorus - strangely short, as if cut off… but then it returns, followed by a synthesizer solo whose modulated chant blends so perfectly with the guitar that it’s practically impossible to tell when one instrument takes the lead over the other. From the very first sounds of “The Voice”, it’s clear we’re dealing with something extraordinary. This track is a true anthem of the new wave, filled with synthesizer landscapes stretching all the way to the horizon, climbing steadily in time with Midge Ure’s dramatic vocals and the pulsing rhythm of the drums. That’s not a drum machine - it’s Warren Cann, a drummer by whom metronomes ought to be set… A track that builds tension like a scene from a thriller, announcing an oncoming storm of emotion. So, just like in Hitchcock’s films, it all started with an earthquake. I’ll be honest - I remember that moment when, struck to the core by the sheer power of “The Voice”, I wanted to stop the playback and go back to the beginning. I think I subconsciously wanted to wear myself out with this one single track, played a million times in a row. My hand was already hovering over the tonearm lever on the turntable, ready to lift the needle and drop it back at the start. But I hesitated for a second - and the sounds of the next track started playing. I won’t lie - at that moment, I was completely “flattened”. Honestly, at first I expected something along the lines of “Vienna II” with a soft, slowly developing intro, something like “Astradyne”. No such thing. From the very first bars, I got punched straight in the face, and stunned, I could only sit back and see what would come next. And what came next hit even harder.

 

The words played on around our heads

Perhaps we went too far

We'll soldier on until the end again

 

This clutching hand around my hand

So pitiful and frail

Makes bleeding hearts begin to beat again

 

“We Stand Alone”*

 

As I’ve already mentioned, unlike Numan or early The Human League, Ultravox had that warmth and power that were so much more appealing to me. Synthesizers? Of course, they’re present throughout the entire mix, but “We Stand Alone” is above all a guitar-driven rock killer. Fantastic phrasing and a sharp, biting tone. Pure poetry. I could turn off the left channel just to endlessly listen to that “angular” guitar playing on the right - if it weren’t for the fact that there’s magic happening on the left too. Add to that the melancholically hypnotic synthesizer motifs and that voice tearing your soul to shreds… My goodness, what on earth is going on here???

 

We sit and watch these lifeless forms

Stark and petrified

The high suspense of an empty stage

Drawing in clutching to its breast

With murmured words we sigh and focus on the main facade

 

Beyond the hard reluctant windows

News from magazines

We wrote their names on books we'd borrowed

As if to bring us closer still

And threw it all away to focus on the main facade

Rage in Eden jigsaw sequence

But no one could see the end

 

“Rage in Eden”*

 

The theatrical - or rather cinematic - way Midge Ure writes lyrics is something that truly sets Ultravox apart. The lyrics on Rage In Eden are made up of interwoven scenes, fragments, paragraphs. They’re not journalistic or commentary-style narratives. This style somewhat resembles Bowie, particularly in those moments where the goal is to create a certain atmosphere. I’d compare them to film shots without dialogue, where the description takes the lead - the movement of the camera, the background, the set design. Yet they remain moving and convincing. The lyrics, and the way they’re delivered, are a huge asset of this album.

 

A silence fell about the room with harsh and heavy calm

The lovers and the friends all felt the same, it kept us warm

We raised our glass and drank to times we had, but'd see no more

The pictures of the past would haunt us still, and there remains

 

“I Remember (Death in the Afternoon)”*

 

After the light “breather” of the gorgeous title track, we arrive at the grand finale of the first act. “I Remember (Death In The Afternoon)” is one of the most magnificent musical tracks ever. The entire composition is incredibly powerful, and the guitar solo is simply breathtaking. Played in long, fluid notes, rising relentlessly to an unbelievably satisfying climax - it’s the very essence of the style Ultravox achieved on Rage In Eden. Here I might risk a bold, but deeply honest statement: at that time, Ultravox were more avant-garde and true heirs to the progressive rock aesthetic than most bands operating under that label. Why do I think that? Because Act Two - in the form of Side B of the album - proves it undeniably through the music alone. Besides, just listen to “Vital Signs” by Rush from Moving Pictures, or their entire next album - Signals. Lifeson and Lee made no secret of the fact that they were deeply impressed by Ultravox at the time. That fascination with Warren Cann probably wasn’t shared by Rush’s drummer, Neil Peart 😊. And that’s a good thing - because combining Lifeson’s “Ultravox-style” playing with Peart’s phenomenal drumming, all immersed in Geddy Lee’s bass-and-synth sauce, created something magical and extraordinary. But that’s a story for another time.

 

And those who dance will spin and turn

And those who wait will wait no more

And those who talk will hear the word

And those who sneer will fade and die

And those who laugh will surely fall

And those who know will always feel their backs against the thin wall

 

“The Thin Wall”*

 

I love the way Rage In Eden is sequenced. Each track builds on the previous one, creating an organic whole. I believe Conny Plank deserves eternal fame and a place in the pantheon of the greatest producers - not only for the refined and sophisticated sound of this album, but also for its final structure. Each subsequent track is a journey through incredibly rich sonic landscapes, but Side B is nothing short of a pilgrimage. The same applies to the lyrical layer, which gradually unfolds and connects from one track to the next. After listening, we don’t feel like we’ve heard a few separate, unrelated stories - one about motorcycles, another about girls, another about girls on motorcycles. No. After listening to the whole thing, we’re filled with the sense that we’ve gone on a journey and arrived, along with the narrator, at a destination - mysterious, yet beautiful. That’s when I understood why the lyrics on the inner sleeve are written in one continuous flow. A single, unbroken stream. And why the album opens with the massive wall of sound that is “The Voice”, and ends with the wide-open space of “Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again)”.

 

Sit in the corner with your back to the wall

Pray to your God with your head in your hands

Your mask of fear is shrinking fast

It's closing in more amour

You stand on borrowed time, your sweating palms and chilling brow

Your wide-eyed panic makes you laugh, you cry and laugh

Freeze until the noise decays, a shuffle from behind a door

Your throat is tight, it makes you choke and smoke and choke

Eyes will grow accustomed to the dark, a stifled scream that won't come out

There's nothing more to fear from the stranger within

 

“Stranger Within”*

 

“Stranger Within” is the heart of the album. A true work of art, in which Ultravox completely surrenders to sonic experimentation. I’m convinced that Conny Plank is much more than just a producer on this track. I imagine him, using his vivid and evocative language, convincing the band to develop the initial motif into a monumental, trance-like composition that, as it gradually unfolds, hypnotizes with its almost cinematic drama. Unsettling synthesizers, motorik drums, and Ure’s emotional phrases come together to form an epic piece that could serve as the soundtrack to a dystopian film - one where, for example, a dictator general declares war on his own citizens and uses his loyal army to enforce a bloody “order”. Beyond the fatalities, he leaves behind thousands of broken lives and careers. Like the father of my friend - a shipyard engineer who, after being given a wolf’s ticked and fired, has to weave wicker baskets to support his family. It’s December 1981, I’m 17 years old, and the final year of my nominal, calendar-defined childhood is ending. The next one will usher me into adulthood, which brings only fear and uncertainty. I’ll receive my ID and military draft card. I’m still living on “borrowed time”, still in school, but a creeping fear begins to paralyze me… what comes next?

 

What is this phase that I am going through

O these precious years

Please take my hand and let me breathe again

Young depressive tears

We stumble blindly chasing something new and something sinful

 

You take my time you live my life for me

What have I done to rate this penalty

You suck me dry

My body cries

We stumble blindly chasing instant thrills and lasting memories

 

“Accent On Youth”*

 

After the rhythmically rising keyboard modulations in the chorus at the end of “Accent on Youth” (one of my favorite musical moments on the entire album), we arrive at the magnificent violin solo of “The Ascent”, followed by a cascade of piano and a piercing glissando at its climax. Suddenly, everything cuts off with the echo of a dull thud…

 

It's hard to focus in this light

I'm growing warm and feeling dull

This heartbeat pounds with vicious fright

There's something to remember

 

I clench my fist but feel no sensation

The walls around me spin and sway

A flashback image in my vision

I remember

 

Your name has slipped my mind again

 

“Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again)”*

 

The slight tempo shifts of the final track, its “floating” quality, along with the absence of a rhythmic backbone, quite literally launch the listener into space. It feels like a leap from a high cliff - an ecstatic flight before breaking the surface of the water and plunging into its cool depths. One of the most powerful moments on the entire album - perhaps the most powerful? A gripping conclusion to the whole record. “Your Name Has Slipped My Mind Again” is drenched in reverb, echo, and sustain. Its ending is like a single frame frozen at the end of an intense film. We’ve made it to the end, but the credits don’t roll. Is that it? Are we supposed to leave - even though we don’t want to?

"Rage In Eden" had an undeniable impact on the development of electronic music, synth-pop, and alternative rock. To this day, many artists cite their fascination with this album. Its unique fusion of synthetic textures with organic drama made it one of the most important albums of the 1980s - and it stands as undeniable proof that popular music can be both ambitious and deeply emotional. Once again, Midge Ure:

 

“…This was during a time when music could be experimental, when you could play around and still have a shot at getting on the radio. Not long after, it had to be three-minute pop songs, but at that moment there was still room for experimentation.”

 

Today, "Rage In Eden" is not just a classic - it’s a manifesto of artistic courage and an uncompromising approach to sound. It still feels fresh and affecting, and its melancholy and visionary approach to music make listening to it a truly moving experience. This is not an ordinary album - it’s a deeply emotional journey that pulls you in and refuses to be forgotten. A masterpiece of progressive new wave and synth-driven romanticism.

There are two moments in the career of Ultravox Mk. 2 (the incarnation with Ure) that I still can’t quite come to terms with. The first is "U-VOX" (and with that, let’s mercifully draw a veil of silence over that album), and the second is handing over the production of the otherwise excellent "Quartet" to George Martin, which ended up steering the enormous potential of those compositions toward the polished, synthpop-song direction. Just to be clear - I really love "Quartet", and I fully understand that the band no longer had the energy or desire to repeat the kind of isolation and hard work they went through in that remote village near Cologne. But sometimes, in my head, I hear tracks like “Reap The Wild Wind” or “Hymn” produced in the spirit of “The Voice”, and I can’t help but feel a bit of regret that they parted ways with the good old Conny…

 

P.S. One last point I’d like to touch on - the album cover is one of my all-time favorites. If I had a ton of money, I would collect vinyl releases in every possible edition - not for some kind of “magic of the sound”, but purely for the artwork. For those large covers where everything was readable. The invaluable Peter Saville came up with something in the spirit of Art Deco that complements the music perfectly. It looks elegant, modern, ancient, and classic all at once. I absolutely love it!

 

* All lyrics © by James Ure / William Lee Currie / Christopher Thomas Allen / Warren Reginald Cann. And just a side note - Midge Ure’s role in writing the lyrics and the lion’s share of the compositions is unquestionable. But the “credits” list the whole band, because nothing ruins a relationship like unclear money matters. For that gesture, my special respect goes to the short Scotsman with a voice like a bell.

 

Robert Marciniak

 

12.10.2025