Tubular Bells III

Is it possible to reinvent a myth without betraying its essence? In 1998, Mike Oldfield grappled with this question with the release of Tubular Bells III. Following the commercial success of its 1992 predecessor, the British musician didn’t take the safe route. Instead of looking to the rolling green hills of England, he set his ear to the dance floors of Ibiza.

From symphonic music to the trance of the 90s

To understand Tubular Bells III, you have to place yourself in Ibiza at the end of the century. Oldfield, a resident of the island, was immersed in the chill-out culture and melodic techno. While the world was vibrating with trip-hop, Mike decided that his famous bells shouldn’t ring in a cathedral, but in a club by the sea.

A journey from darkness to light

The album opens with ‘The Source of Secrets’, a statement of intent where the iconic piano ostinato returns processed by synthesizers and a deep bass; it’s the definitive meeting of progressive rock and trance. It’s followed by ‘The Watchful Eye’, a mystical and ambient interlude with ethnic vocals that foreshadows the chill-out sound. In ‘Jewel in the Crown’, the guitar takes center stage, reminding us that beneath the digital rhythms beats an organic musician.

The energy shifts dramatically with ‘Outcast’, an aggressive, almost industrial piece in which Oldfield releases tension. Following this outburst, ‘Serpent Dream’ offers a brilliant technical exercise on acoustic guitar with flamenco influences, leading into ‘The Inner Child’: here, Rosa Cedrón’s voice lends a Celtic melancholy that connects this work to its 1973 roots.

At the heart of the album lies ‘Man in the Rain’, a false climax in the form of a pop song that inherits the spirit of ‘Moonlight Shadow’. After this commercial interlude, the album begins its final ascent with the luminous piano-driven ‘The Top of the Morning’, followed by the hypnotic transitions of ‘Moonwatch’ and ‘Secrets’. It all culminates in ‘Far Above the Clouds’, the crown jewel: a child’s voice narrates the story of an enigmatic traveler, and bells burst forth over a devastating rhythm section in a sonic catharsis.

Evolution and comparison in the trilogy

If we analyze the evolution of the saga, the original Tubular Bells from 1973 stands out for its chaotic spirit and artisanal genius, laying the foundations of modern progressive rock with its structure of two long suites. Tubular Bells II (1992), on the other hand, represented perfectionism and elegance, refining digital production and maintaining the climax at the heart of the album through the iconic track ‘The Bell’.

Tubular Bells III (1998) breaks these molds by embracing freedom and experimentation. While its predecessors moved between rock and symphonic music, this installment dives headfirst into electronica and new-age. Its biggest difference lies in the management of tension: while the previous albums sought release midway through, TB3 is an uninterrupted ascent that saves all its firepower for the final climax.

Is this album still relevant?

Tubular Bells III is a manifesto of adaptation. Although purists viewed it with suspicion upon its release, time has established it as a courageous album. Oldfield demonstrated that his musical language was the natural precursor to modern electronic music. It is an essential record for understanding how an artist can inhabit his own mythology while embracing the present.

The best: the crystal-clear production and the breathtaking finale of ‘Far Above the Clouds’. The worst: the excessive similarity of ‘Man in the Rain’ to the artist’s past hits.