Eno. So revolutionary in a way to deconstruct the passive listening habits of the bourgeoisie. So modern and yet tapping into an ancient sound that tech only enhances. Ahead of his time by diving headlong into the vast spaces of the sonic background he is not much talked about at awards ceremonies apart from by the real music fans muttering on the fringes away from the main gaggle of the biz trying somehow without the aid of headphones to filter out all that blare. You cannot really do ambient among braying overpaid music executives, a distraction from the deadly serious business of backslapping. I was thinking of Polar Bear’s Seb Rochford who has worked with Eno, someone who also does not do smooth and might tune out into his own spiritual space in despair at app-driven music in restaurants that has become a reductionist absurd distortion of Ambient and just a fill-the-air-with-stuff functional often minimalist pouting ‘mood magic’. Eno knew, knows, like the time and silence philosophy of the ECM label and to an extent the remix experimentations of the Punkt school of improvisers that repetition and patience, a wait for the moment lost there but always to be found by exact listening, drives our craving for new music and its constant reinvention. He lets his enduring sounds invade the pores, without the perfume of pat phrases on a classic of the late-1970s, false promises, naive hope, all that yeah, yeah, yeah.