Archivi tag: 2001

Intervista a Q

THE MAKING OF TUBULAR BELLS
Q – August, 2001

Take one troubled teenage prodigy and lock him in a country pile. Stir in a youthful Richard Branson, a dash of hippy whimsy, copious amounts of booze and what do you have? The lucrative instrumental epic that launched an entire record company.

Mike Oldfield: Some of Tubular Bells goes back to my school days. I had problems at home, and music became more real to me than reality. I used to make up acoustic guitar instrumentals, when I was 13, in my bedroom. When I was 16, I joined Kevin Ayers’ band (The Whole World), and when that ended in 1971, Kevin gave me his tape recorder, an early Bang & Olufsen machine. By soldering wires together and blocking off one tape head with cigarette packets, I was able to multi-track. The first demo I recorded turned out to be the opening theme for Tubular Bells, played on a Farfisa organ. I went to the Manor studio a few months later, in September, as bass guitarist in the Arthur Lewis Band. It was being converted by these guys, Tom Newman and Simon Heyworth, who had convinced Richard Branson to build a studio in this old country house.

Simon Heyworth: I was 19 years old, looking for a way into the recording industry, and Branson was beginning to build his empire with The Student magazine and his mail order company, Caroline Records.

Tom Newman: When I first met Richard, he was sitting in bed with his girlfriend. He was always in bed. For the first six weeks I never saw him standing up. I sat and talked to him for half an hour about building a studio and maybe starting a record label. I was looking at Country Life magazine one day while waiting to see Richard. I spotted his house in Oxfordshire in its own grounds. It just looked beautiful and it was 30,000 quid.

SH: Richard bought the Manor, so we moved in and set to work. We were close to completing it when Mike arrived. One morning I heard some music, popped my head round the library door, and there was Mike, sun streaming in the window, cross-legged on the floor, overdubbing guitar parts. I was transfixed by how beautiful it sounded.

TN: Michael had half a dozen unconnected pieces. One had a vacuum cleaner creating background drone.

MO: I was in a very insecure frame of mind. I had problems with my family… I was probably having a nervous breakdown.

TN: He became known as “the snivelling wretch”. It was because he was very shy and scared and looked as if he was almost crying. The only time he became sociable was after a couple of pints of Guinness.

MO: I had taken my demos to loads of record companies, but they all looked at me as if I was mad. They said that, because there were no vocals, no words, no drums or anything, it wasn’t marketable, but Tom and Simon liked them, and took them to Richard Branson.

TN: Richard couldn’t see Tubular Bells at first. It would not have happened but for Simon Draper. Richard really had absolutely no idea about music.

MO: Simon Draper rang me about a year later and invited me to dinner on Richard’s bage in Little Venice. They said ‘You have a week, and we’ll see wahat you do’. I made a list of all the instruments I’d need. I had seen a set of tubular bells once in Abbey Road studios, so I thought I may as well have some.

SH: We’d got into something nobody had ever attempted – one person playing all the instruments. We had no idea how to record it. There were no drop-ins or digital editing in those days – it had to be done with razor blades. And Mike used all kinds of bizarre instruments, but some of the biggest problems came from his Telecaster.

TN: The pick-ups were farty and noisy, and he had this awful home-made electronics box full of horrid transistors, covered in faders and knobs which he called a ‘Glorfindel’. This was a piece of plywood filled with junx that he could plug his guitar into and sometimes a sound would come out. Sometimes the sound was good, but most of the time it was terrible. It was like tuning a radio set.

SH: We consumed an awful lot of Guinness every evening in the local pub, then we’d stagger back and try to make music into the night, which always resulted in disasters like erasing half the day’s work by accident.

MO: When the tubular bells finally come in, they sound distorted. That’s because I really wanted a huge cathedral bell, but all we had was these little bells. So instead of using the small mallet provided, I hit the bell with a proper metal hammer to make it sound bigger. I hit it so hard that it cracked. There was so muhch gain on the microphone that it came out distorted.

SH: Richard wasn’t involved in the music as such, but he would come down to the Manor from time to time.

TN: He would start food fights. He would come down and be the gay young squire doing his thing.

MO: He once smashed the glass in the loo, took a bottle of fake blood, splashed it all over his face and then staggered out screaming “Help! I’m dying!” He kept this up, with us in a panic, until we’d called for an ambulance, then he showed us the bottle of fake blood.

SH: We had pretty much completed Part One by the end of the week, and The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band were coming in next, but they arrived early so they were around. Mike was a bit of a fan, so he asked their singer, Vivian Stanshall, to introduce the instruments on the final part of Tubular Bells.

TN: He got it wrong every fucking time.

MO: Viv was standing next to me, reeling about because he was so drunk. I had to write down the words and point at the appropriate word just before he was to say it. We finished Viv’s bit about midnight, then we got out a jeroboam of champagne and spent until eight in the morning doing the mix of Part One to send off to Simon Draper. Luckily, he loved it. I felt so at home in the Manor that I just stayed on, recording Part Two in down time with Tom, over a period of four or five months. I remember Richard saying “You’d better behave yourself, or you’ll be out on your arse”.

SH: Richard was getting impatient, continually demanding that we should deliver the finished album, so we filled up a Transit van with loads of unravelled two-inch tape. We drove to London, dumped the lot in Richard’s office and said “There’s your album”. Of course, it wasn’t the real master tape. When Richard eventually heard the completed version he wasn’t convinced. The caveman sequence on side two, for example, was purely instrumental, but Richard wanted vocals on it. I think he wanted something to release as a single.

MO: I was quite rebellious, so I said, “You want lyrics? I’ll give you lyrics!”. I drank half a bottle of Jameson whisky and ordered the engineer to take me to the studio and I screamed my brains out for ten minutes.

SH: Side two ended on rather a gloomy note, so to cheer it up, we had this idea of doing the Sailor’s Hornpipe as a procession around the Manor. I miked up all the rooms, so we could wander from room to room playing, and it would all be recorded.

TN: Stanshall led us, giving a commentary, followed by Michael playing the mandolin. I was on acoustic guitar and somebody else played penny whistle. Viv was completely pissed and his commentary went on and on.

SH: That version was considered too outrageous, so we recorded a much more traditional one, which is what ended up on the album.

MO: The title was the last thing we decided. I didn’t know what to call it. Richard wanted to call it Breakfast In Bed, because he had a photo of a boiled egg with blood dripping out, which he thought would look good as a cover. I hated it, but when I said Tubular Bells, he said he still preferred Breakfast In Bed. I almost had to beg.

TN: Getting Richard Branson to release the album was like dragging stuff uphill through treacle…

SH: It was releasted as a last resort. Their attitude was, “Well, if nobody else wants it, we’ve got this mail order catalogue, why don’t we put it out through that?” Then, all of a sudden, it became, “Well, we might as well launch the Virgin label with it”.

TN: Tubular Bells made Virgin. But even if it hadn’t happened in this way, Richard Branson would have made it in some other way.

Intervista a Classic Rock

SETTE GIORNI NELLA VITA DI MIKE OLDFIELD
Classic Rock n°29, luglio 2001

di Jerry Ewing

Strano, eccentrico e riservato in modo irritante, sono alcuni dei modi con i quali Mike Oldfield viene normalmente descritto. Ora apre le porte del suo palazzo nell’Oxfordshire per Classic Rock, e ci racconta che cosa fa là dentro.

– Faccio cose diverse a seconda dei giorni. I giorni infrasettimana sono diversi dai weekends, come lo sono per la maggior parte della gente. Mi sveglio alle sette, prendo i giornali, bevo una tazza di tè e leggo la posta. Ah, e do da mangiare al gatto; mi fa ammattire se non gliene do. Poi faccio colazione e la mia ragazza di solito mi tiene compagnia.
Ogni giorno provo a fare un qualche genere di esercizio fisico, tipo prendere la mia mountain bike e andare a fare un giro di una mezz’ora nelle stradine qui attorno. O se non vado in bici faccio un po’ di jogging in giardino. C’è una graziosa panca là fuori, sotto un albero, dove cerco sempre di fare un po’ di meditazione. Poi, prima di mettermi a correre, passeggio attorno al giardino. Sono circa 800 metri quindi, tra andata e ritorno, faccio circa un chilometro e mezzo. E lo faccio tutti giorni, con il sole o con la pioggia; provo a controbilanciare tutto il fumo e l’alcool – è una questione di coscienza. Poi faccio un tuffo in piscina e faccio qualche vasca prima di fare il bagno – mi piace un sacco l’acqua! Dopo, in genere, prendo un’ora per me solo nello studio prima che arrivi il tecnico, suono un po’ di musica o faccio qualcosa per il progetto di realtà virtuale sul quale sto lavorando.
Quindi, normalmente, trascorriamo l’intera giornata lavorando sia al progetto di realtà virtuale che sulla musica, o su entrambi. Con il passare degli anni, sono molto migliorato nel delegare le cose. C’è un limite invalicalibile tra la casa e lo studio; quella zona è la mia area privata e questo è il mio posto di lavoro e di solito sto qui fino alle sette del pomeriggio.
Ogni sera facciamo qualcosa di diverso; per esempio, il lunedì è il giorno dedicato alla pinta di Guinness, e così andiamo nel nostro pub di paese ad Amersham, ci beviamo qualche pinta di birra e poi andiamo al ristorante cinese. Nel ristorante locale in genere prendo l’anatra croccante e poi verso le dieci me ne vado a letto.
Il martedì comincia come il lunedì, però vado anche a trovare mio figlio alla scuola elementare del paese. Di solito lo vedo verso un quarto alle quattro e lo porto fuori a prendere il tè. Io prendo sempre un panino caldo al formaggio e lui invece un piattone di torta di cioccolata ricoperta di salsa di cioccolato!
Dopo vado in macchina fino al campo di squash e gioco con Jeremy, il mio assistente. La sera ceniamo a casa, facciamo un po’ di spesa e cuciniamo. Io non cucino il martedì, di solito lo faccio durante il weekend. Infine ci mettiamo a vedere la Tv satellitare.
Il mercoledì è il giorno della cena tailandese. Ci sono pochi ristoranti tailandesi decenti in zona e a volte andiamo fino a Londra, dove ce ne sono un paio per la cui cucina stravedo. I migliori tendono ad essere un po’ lontani, così qualche volta preferiamo andare a Oxford.
Giovedì è il giorno del pasticcio d’agnello al pub locale. Il resto della giornata la trascorro come sempre, ma la sera facciamo un salto giù al pub dove fanno questo eccellente pasticcio d’agnello alla casalinga; e lo mando giù con qualche pinta in più di Guinness. Ecco, così sai da dove nasce il bisogno di fare esercizio la mattina presto! Li faccio anche se nevica, se c’è l’uragano, la pioggia, con qualsiasi tempo!

Il sabato mangiamo qui ed è probabile che passi tutto il giorno a letto a guardare la Tv. Sono un tremendo Star Trekkista. Posso trascorrere tutto un sabato felice a guardarlo, mi piace tantissimo. Ho visto tutti gli episodi di ogni serie. Voglio sapere cos’è successo al Voyager! È finito anche Spazio 1999 e io sono disperato a causa della mia dipendenza. In questi giorni mi manca la mia dose quotidiana di Star Trek, ah ah!

Amo il sabato, è veramente il mio giorno di riposo. E la sera ci ordiniamo una cena da portare via, in genere cinese o tailandese, qualche volta un curry o anche una cena messicana. Mi piace il cibo piccante e tutte le cose con il peperoncino. Credo che sia stato Kevin Ayers a farmi amare il cibo speziato e piccante; infatti ho assaggiato per la prima volta il curry quando avevo circa sedici anni ed ero insieme a lui. Si è seduto là con questo gran piatto di dal e l’ha mangiato correttamente con il chapatti. Penso che sia stato il mio primo assaggio di cibo piccante e credo che l’idea che il cibo potesse essere doloroso mi sia apparsa davvero affascinante, ah ah!
Anche la domenica è una specie di giorno di riposo. La mattina posso giocare un po’ a tennis e quindi vado nello studio a gingillarmi. Non vado a lavorare veramente, ma soltanto a fare un po’ di casino. A volte mi metto a risentire quello che abbiamo fatto durante la settimana.
La domeniche pomeriggio sono dedicate al cinema; facciamo un salto in paese e vediamo cosa c’è. Guardo tutto quello che è fantascienza e mi piace qualunque cosa abbia gli effetti speciali. Se devo andare a vedere un film come Il Mandolino del capitano Corelli (fa una smorfia) lo faccio soltanto perché non c’è nient’altro da vedere. Mi piace anche il cibo che si trova al cinema, mi faccio sempre un hot-dog e, inevitabilmente, mi sgocciolo il ketchup sulla maglietta. Del resto li fanno così grandi che non puoi cacciarteli tutti in bocca e il ketchup mi finisce sempre addosso!
Ah, prima di andare al cinema, andiamo da Tesco a fare la spesa settimanale e a prendere qualcosa per la cena della domenica. Torniamo dal cinema di solito verso le sei e io mi metto a cucinare; sto ancora provando a perfezionare le mia ultima patata al forno, non riesco ancora a farla bene, ma penso di esserci vicino. Quindi passo la domenica sera affaccendato intorno alla cena, mentre bevo un po’ di vino. Di solito, mentre la cena cuoce, vado nello studio a bighellonare un po’. E dopo cena faccio un salto al Blockbuster a noleggiare una cassetta, naturalmente di fantascienza. Quindi si ricomincia dal lunedì…
Più o meno ogni paio di mesi passiamo un weekend da qualche parte; a me non piacciono le vacanze molto lunghe. Questa è la mia vita attualmente, sebbene stia per cambiare completamente. Ho trovato un’altra casa che ho intenzione di comprare; non ti dirò dov’è, ti dico soltanto che è vicina ad un fiume. Voglio tenermi anche questa, ma sta diventando più che altro solo un posto dove lavorare.

Traduzione di Alessandra Rontani

Aggiornamento MusicVR

Il sito MusicVR è stato aggiornato, avendo ora una nuova veste grafica attraverso alcuni filmati Flash.
Tra l’altro la DarkStar informa che Mike ed il suo staff hanno completato la creazione di MusicVR e hanno pianificato la distribuzione per fine settembre. Nel frattempo stanno ottimizzando il gioco, aumentando il numero di schede grafiche supportate, impacchettando e preparando la distribuzione. MusicVR sarà realizzato in tre parti che potranno essere scaricate dal sito www.musicvr.com. La prima parte, così come la Demo, sarà gratuita. La seconda e la terza parte saranno disponibili contemporaneamente alla prima. Il prezzo non è stato ancora stabilito, ma dovrebbe essere inferiore a quello per l’acquisto di un CD musicale (prenotazioni attraverso il sito MVR con carta di credito).
ATTENZIONE!
Un anello di diamante è stato nascosto in una delle tre parti del gioco. Mike offre un premio speciale al primo che gli manderà l’immagine con il posto in cui si trova nascosto l’anello.

Intervista a Record Collector

The Bell Boy
Record Collector – July, 2001

Mike Oldfield sounds off about his latest project – The Best of Tubular Bells

Chimin’ in: Joel McIver

After 28 years of tubular tunes, the maverick composer Mike Oldfield has compiled a new album of excerpts from his five Tubular Bells- themed records. As you might expect, most of it is made up of music from the original (and almost universally considered to be the best) Bells album of 1973, and looks set to introduce the famous trance-like theme to a new generation of listeners.

Record Collector visited Oldfield at the studio complex of his Buckinghamshire home and invited him to spill the beans about those far-off sessions. It’s an impressive place, with banks of equipment and computers humming quietly in corners, but with the eccentric’s mark stamped firmly on it (there’s a Things Wrong In Studio list on the wall- the last item reads “Giant penguin on loose in attic”).

Oldfield himself is a softly-spoken man who pauses to think before answering questions and occasionally explodes into throaty, tobacco-fuelled laughter. He’s happy to discuss a variety of subjects (havin’ it large in the Balearics, the early rejection of his demos and- aarrgghh!- Richard Branson) but refuses to be drawn if there’s anything he doesn’t want to talk about.

An interview not to be approached lightly, then- but as it’s his 48th birthday and his record company representative has just presented him with a rather tasty bottle of red wine, he’s on good form. However, he is politely bemused when I ask him what he thinks of The Fast Show’s adoption of Moonlight Shadow as the theme to its ridiculous character, Dave Angel: Eco Warrior. Perhaps just as well…

Q: You were a child prodigy, weren’t you?

A: Well, I was certainly playing in public at a very young age- at the age of nine or 10 I was performing at the village youth club. And when I was 13 I had a residency at a folk club in Reading- two different folk clubs, actually. We went all over the place, even up to the Edinburgh Festival, in our little folk duo. We used to busk on the streets as well.

Q: Do you have fond memories of working with Kevin Ayers?

A: It was the first time I felt I was working with a real band, and it was very exciting going to the studio at Abbey Road and getting paid. We’d go in and work for two or three days, and a man in a suit and tie used to give me an envelope full of money- well, it was only about £20, but that was a fortune to me at the time. It meant I could eat for the next three weeks.

Q: What was Kevin Ayers like?

A: I liked hims a lot. He became my mentor. He loved his alcohol: we’d get into the Transit to go to Bingley or Lancaster or somewhere and he’d start drinking his bottle of wine. He taught me a lot- things like not being afraid of repetition: just because you repeat something doesn’t mean you can’t think of anything else to play. Like a mantra, it becomes trance-like after a while.

He was lovely. But as the years went oon, I put more and more into the band, until I felt I was doing too much and not getting any recognition for it. It was Kevin who lent me my first tape recorder, which I made the Tubular Bells demo on.

Q: The Tubular Bells myth states that the demo was rejected out of hand by dozens of companies.

A: I took it round all the majors: CBS, EMI- Harvest, that is, who had the Pink Floyd- and Warner Brothers. The Whole World were on Harvest, who had seen me working in the studio and had expressed a bit of interest, but in the event they didn’t want it.

Q: Was that demoralising?

A: Yes, it was terribly demoralising. I eventually gave the tapes to the Whole World roadie and said, you’re a better talker than I am- you try. He went around and didn’t get anywhere either (chuckles).

Q: What was your impression of Richard Branson when you first met him?

A: He was a very strange person. He seemed very upper-class to me, and looked like he had millions- although I know he didn’t. He had a great big Bentley, which I finally got off him when I agreed to do the first Tubular Bells concert. And once I got it, I realised it was falling to pieces.

Q: Did you find him agreeable as a person?

A: No (pauses to think). He didn’t really like me much. He was a such a different social standing from me. But he didn’t have much to do with it. It was the people around him, like Simon Draper, who were really interested in me. They must have listened to my demos and said, come on, Richard, let’s give him a week in a studio. So I went into the Manor and recorded the first half, and loved it so much that after the wekk I refused to leave. I hid in the attic and said, I’m not going, this is great.

Q: Presumably they liked the first half enough to let you record the rest?

A: Yes, but they didn’t give me the proper studio time- I had to work in the down time. But there were some wonderful moments- there was a lovely feeling around the beginnings of the company and the Manor House. Everybody was enthusiastic. We were building something new.

Q: Was there a sense that you were doing something ground-breaking?

A: Not really, no. Lol Coxhill from the Whole World just went on about Tubular Balls, Tubercular Balls (sniggers).

Q: Have you heard loads of anti-Bells jokes?

A: Oh, yes. I’ve got used to it, but at the time it used to annoy me.

Q: When you listen to Tubular Bells now, do you think it sounds dated?

A: (thinks carefully) If you zoom in on one section of it, yes, it sounds dated. But it’s all flesh and blood and sweat- you can even hear breathing on it. There’s no samplers or sequencers or computers or anything, and that’s the lovely thing about it. You can easily pick holes in it, but if you look at the whole thing (passionately) it’s wonderful. There are so many peaks and troughs and spaces- to me at the time it was a Monty Python piece, with completely unexpected things happening.

Q: Whose idea was it to get Viv Stanshall to introduce the instruments?

A: Mine. Simply because they (Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band) were the band booked in the next day. They were watching TV and drinking in the house while I was working frantically. There was a track on a Bonzo Dog album where he did introductions, and I thought, wouldn’t it be great if he said what was coming in? One of the engineers went and asked him and he came in with his bottle- he was a little bit worse for wear by that time. And he did it in 10 minutes.

Q: Did he get a royalty?

A: No. In fact, he was chasing Richard Branson for years- when the album became successful he wanted some money. I think he got some in the end.

Q: How did Tubular Bells end up in The Exorcist?

A: Richard phoned and suggested it. He said, this is going to be a very big film, so I said OK, thank you, bye. And I never saw the film until about 15 years after it came out. I laughed, I thought it was funny.

Q: Do you think the music fits the film?

A: Not particularly, no. You’d expect more traditional horror-film music. But now anything spiritual or spooky has that tinkling piano on it. You know the Pentium 3 processor theme? (hums four-note computer ad tune) That’s the beginning of Tubular Bells.

Q: How did your move to dance music in the 90s come about?

A: Well, I moved to Ibiza- not for the clubs or anything, just because there was a nice piece of land by the sea. Someone had this crappy little cassette of some techno music, and I put it on one day and thought hmm, this is very easy. So we got out the drum-box, programmed it in and said, what keyboard do they all use? I got one of those and made it go…(makes squelchy synth sound) and pressed Go. And it was nice, so then I thought I’d add some experimental stuff to it.

And obviously I did then start going to the clubs, not for the music but for the spectacle of it. Someone introduced me to this strange Red Indian person who showed me a Brazillian dance called the capoeira.

Q: It’s also a martial art, isn’t it?

A: Yes. He taught it to me on the beach. I was talking to my psychotherapist about this- I think it’s the adolescence I never had. Because I came straight from school onto the road, then it was studios, Virgin, Tubular Bells- my God. I never had any fun in those days. I spent half my life sitting in a Transit running up and down motoways.

Q: Did you ever take Ecstasy when you were out there?

A: One or two, yeah. I understand why people like it, but I didn’t feel like dancing- I felt physically sick. And then a couple of days later I felt paranoid. I suppose if you’re a young person and you feel like that, you just have another one! Because the energy they use is is incredible- at Privilege (the Ibiza superclub), they don’t even use their feet when they’re dancing. They’re conserving their energy for the next six hours.

Q: Has anyone ever suggested that five Tubular Bells albums is too many?

A: Oh, yeah. But if I had to behave the way that everybody wanted me to, I’d be going this way and that way and never do anything. My reaction to that is just, you live your life and I’ll live mine the way I want to live it. If I feel like doing another one, I will.

And on that note Mike invites RC for a preview of his latest venture, a new album (“pure ambient music” he remarks) which will be packaged with a CD-ROM containing a ground-breaking computer game.

We gather round the largest computer monitor RC has ever seen and a technician boots up the game, a mighty barrage of fluid digital landscape, dotted with creatures and objects which alter the narrative of the game when you click on them, and which is accompanied by a classic Oldfield searing-guitars-and-swooshy-soundscapes theme.

It’s a headspinning experience, and as he bids us farewell and vanishes into the depths of his electronic kingdom, the last thought that crosses you mind is that it’s all a long way from those famously analogue Tubular Bells recordings. Whatever will he do next?

Mike risponde in chat

Si tratta di una chat esclusiva in cui potete fare delle domande direttamente a Mike venerdì 8 giugno alle ore 19.30 ora italiana. L’evento è straordinario trattandosi per la prima volta della possibilità data ai fans di fare quelle domande che hanno sempre sognato di fare. Le domande devono essere fatte in anticipo per poi essere proposte a Mike dall’intervistatore. La chat è stata allestita nello studio di Mike. L’iniziativa è per celebrare l’uscita di “The Best of Tubular Bells” del 4 giugno.
E’ disponibile anche un’intervista di Mike in cui spiega che la prima parte di MusicVR sarà pronta in circa 2 mesi e sarà composta dall’album e dal CD del gioco, dopo di che, forse sarà organizzato un concerto…

Best of Tubular Bells

L’album “Best of Tubular Bells” è uscito il 4 giugno ed è composto da alcuni brani contenuti nella trilogia “Tubular Bells”.
I brani selezionati da Mike personalmente sono:
1. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit)
2. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Orchestral edit)
3. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit)
4. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Exposed edit)
5. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit)
6. Tubular Bells – Part 2 “The Caveman Song” (Original edit)
7. Tubular Bells – Part 2 (Exposed edit)
8. Sentinel (Tubular Bells II)
9. The Bell (Tubular Bells II)
10. Far Above The Clouds (Tubular Bells III)
11. The Millennium Bell (The Millennium Bell)
12. Tubular Bells – Part 2 “Sailors Hornpipe” (Original edit)

Lo potete ordinare su Amazon.co.uk (circa 40.000 Lit)

The Best of Tubular Bells

Lista brani
1. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit.)
2. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Orchestral edit.)
3. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit.)
4. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Exposed edit.)
5. Tubular Bells – Part 1 (Original edit.)
6. Tubular Bells – Part 2 “The Caveman Song” (Original edit.)
7. Tubular Bells – Part 2 (Exposed edit.)
8. Sentinel (Tubular Bells II)
9. The Bel l (Tubular Bells II)
10. Far Above The Clouds (Tubular Bells III)
11. The Millennium Bell (The Millennium Bell)
12. Tubular Bells – Part 2 “Sailors Hornpipe” (Original edit.)

Edizione di Simon Heyworth realizzata al The Sanctuary
Rilasciato il 4 giugno 2001