There are no bad or even mediocre songs on this album. This is Gabriel's first solo album where he seems fully in control. The mood is consistent and intense. The drums bang big and well-used dissonance lurks behind every harmony. It's very difficult to find something bad to say about it.

Gabriel explores many themes on this album, from people who enjoy breaking into homes ("Intruder") to people who need attention and go to extremes to get it ("Family Snapshot") to the relationship between sex and war ("Games Without Frontiers") to alienation ("Not One of Us") to the final political protest song against apartheid ("Biko"). Pop albums (if you can call this a pop album) rarely if ever explore such territory with such depth. The music backs up the lyrics to a degree that's almost mesmerizing.

Gabriel had come a long way from Genesis by the time this album was released. Just listen to "Trespass" (from 10 years before this album) or "Selling England By the Pound" (from half a decade or so before this album) to see how Gabriel expanded his depth for music and lyrics. It's hard to believe that the same guy singing "No Self-Control" once roamed around on stage dressed as a bat or a giant flower. In retrospect Gabriel's departure from Genesis may have been the best move of his career. It's hard to imagine Genesis going in the direction Gabriel went in, considering where they ended up (somewhere on the opposite side of the spectrum).

A host of great performers contributed instruments or vocals, which can be heard on every note. Robert Fripp returns as a guitarist (he would never again produce Gabriel), Kate Bush sings backup, David Gregory (formerly of XTC) contributes guitar, and even Phil Collins plays drums. The names go on and on (including Tony Levin and David Rhodes, who became staples). It's tempting to give Gabriel all the credit for this one, but his band had a lot to do with the solidity of this effort.

If you know nothing about Gabriel and are curious, this is a good one to start with. The songs are "the usual" length (unlike the followup "Security") and, as has been said, they're all great. If you don't like this album, you probably don't like Gabriel. This is the album on which he found his voice.

I know that most people say that if you listen to "Solsbury Hill," you'll hear why Peter Gabriel had to leave Genesis. I, however, feel that it was on his third solo album that Gabriel truly established himself as a solo artist. The penchant for musical exploration that we see on his first album is present on this one, as well as Gabriel's newly discovered fondness for disturbing subject matter and ethnic rock, first glimpsed on his second album. But here we have a more mature artist than the one we saw on the first two albums. Finally, there is a strong cohesion between the songs, a center of thematic unity. You should be warned: there isn't a single lighthearted moment on this album. Every single dark facet of the human mind, the shadowy recesses of the soul that everyone possesses to some degree (but doesn't like to think about), they are all explored throughout this album. But Gabriel's songwriting expertise actually manages to make the experience an engaging one.

The opening song, Intruder, makes it clear that we're entering a dark world. In true Peter Gabriel fashion, it's a bizarre opener, albeit a bit darker than what we're used to. But still, Gabriel uses his powers of composition to make it delightful, in a sick way. The disjointed, yet solid melody, coupled with Gabriel's treatment of the lyrics (muttering one moment, crying out the next, with just the right amount of feedback to give his voice a more shadowy quality) reel the listener in. One almost gets a sense that Gabriel has assumed the role of the stalker almost too well. It's enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and yet, it's artistic enough to grab your attention. It's not the last time Gabriel sings in the first person. In the following song, No Self-Control, he assumes the role of an obsessed man, again with frightening accuracy. And as in the last song, the music only heightens the unease. The driving percussion (expertly provided by Gabriel's old Genesis buddy, Phil Collins), combined with the sudden, bursting guitar riffs almost become a rhythmic, impulsive chant. He also plays the role of amnesiac in I Don't Remember, a song made even more terrifying by the fact that Gabriel might be suggesting that society itself, and the drives to conform, are the reasons that we have lost our identities. And in this song, we also hear Gabriel drifting further into modern rock than he has before, with outstanding results.

In addition to moments of artistic funk rock, we are also given hints of the direction Gabriel will go for the rest of his solo career. We hear African soul influences in the percussion throughout. Sometimes, as in Lead a Normal Life, it's keyed down. Or, by contrast, you have the vivid, multilayered percussion of Games Without Frontiers, a chilling song about how people are subconsciously conditioned to fight wars as adults through the games they play as children, complete with eerie backing vocals from singer Kate Bush (who would work with Gabriel again). We hear soft pop traces within the tragic beauty of Family Snapshot (a profile of a murderer, or a suggestion that said murderer is, to some degree, every man?), which is probably the one time on the album Gabriel is blatantly TRYING to make the listener cry. We hear modern jazz-rock within the sad reflective tones of Start, an instrumental consisting only of a keyboard synthesizer, bass, and sax. Gabriel is still exploring, but through the darkness of the subject matter, we get a unifying theme. We get Gabriel's penchant for experimentation (with a more solid focus), and through songs like I Don't Remember, Family Snapshot and Lead a Normal Life, we also get an idea of the direction Gabriel wanted his career to take during the 1980s.

Finally, after the dark, brooding journey through the bleak recesses of the mind, Gabriel ends the song on a surprising note: Biko, an anti-apartheid song dealing with the murder of South African civil rights leader Steven Bantu Biko, and how his death only strengthened his cause by making him a martyr ("the man is dead, and the eyes of the world are watching now"). The song is rich, insightful, and spiritually uplifting. The influences of African music on Gabriel shine through in both the music and the vocals. Gabriel embraces them, honors them while also giving them his own stamp, and the end result is one of the most beautiful, poignant songs of his career. It's also interesting to note that this song got the distribution of Gabriel's music banned from South Africa for many years.

If one listens to this album, one will hear the real reason Peter Gabriel left Genesis. Gabriel matured as both a solo artist and a songwriter on this album, stepping light-years beyond his progressive roots, while at the same time doing them justice. The album is bleak, insightful, disturbing, shocking, delightful, morbid, and beautiful all at the same time. While Gabriel would go on to prove his expertise as a pop artist during the 80s, nothing else he would do for the rest of his career would measure up to the richness he displays on this album. There's a very good reason critics and fans consider this his masterpiece, and through it, Gabriel established himself as one of the best modern artists of our time.

...make it this one.

This third "Peter Gabriel" disc (a.k.a. "Melt") could have been titled "Sociology". There is no "Sledgehammer" here. No "In Your Eyes". No "Steam". The closest thing to a hit here is "Games Without Frontiers", which was edited and issued as a moderate-charting single. What you get instead is an aural look at the world around us - a piece of art that will sometimes send a chill down the spine, sometimes bring a lump to the throat, always leave you thinking.

The songs on "Melt" deal with man's inhumanity to man, both on a global scale and one-on-one. Gabriel's approach is primarily first person, bringing us closer to each narrator in these tracks. Just as he used to mask himself in fox heads and what-not during his long-ago Genesis days to take on another persona, so he does in his songs - often to chilling effect.

The disc opens with "Intruder", Phil Collins' hypnotic thump setting the tone as Gabriel creepily takes on the role of house intruder - less a thief, more psychopathic.

"Family Snapshot" puts us inside the mind of an assassin, in the final seconds before he pulls the trigger. A standout track on this album (and every track on this album stands out).

Xenophobic hatred and paranoia is the subject of much of this release. "And Through The Wire", "Not One Of Us", and the UK hit "I Don't Remember" all conjure mental images of unfriendly border crossings and nationalistic distrust and hate. "Games Without Frontier" makes the simple point that if looks really could kill, someone would surely use it as a weapon. Children playing war games with real weapons.

The album closes with the Gabriel classic, "Biko", a moving homage to martyred South African activist / poet Stephen Biko. The eight-minute opus opens with an African chant, is pierced with cries of "Yihla Moja" (roughly translated "let the spirit descend") and ends with a mournful rendition of "Die Stem", the South African national anthem. A very loud, resounding drum slap like the slam of a jail cell door closes this very heavy album. (It's ashame that, when Geffen remastered / reissued the Peter Gabriel catalog, they didn't include bonus tracks. "Shosholoza", a rare track issued as the 'B'-side of the British "I Don't Remember" single, would have fit beautifully after "Biko". "Shosholoza" is a traditional South African song of hardship.)

The third "Peter Gabriel" album is an album of moments: moments of fear and moments of pain; moments of sanity and moments of madness; moments of rocking and moments of ballad. But there are no love songs here. What you get is an honest assessment of the world and how we relate to one another on a global scale.

And the assessment is pretty bleak, and tragically accurate.

It's sad that today, twenty-three years after this album first came out, every track still rings true. Perhaps even more so now than in 1980.

Not the "feel good" album of the eighties. But certainly one of the most powerful.

Musically, this third solo outing proved the artistic turning point of Peter Gabriel's post-Genesis career. While his first two solo LPs were engaging and original, Gabriel finally hit his stylistic stride with "Melt". Synthesizers abound, but not abrasively. (No dyed-haired 80's synth-pop here). Great attention is given to the details in this recording. Musically, you feel the creepiness of "Intruder", the loneliness of "Family Snapshot" and the anger of "And Through The Wire". The instrumentation perfectly compliments the lyrics on each track.

Guests include fellow Genesis member Phil Collins, Kate Bush, Robert Fripp (who's guitar atmospherics add much color to this CD), Paul Weller of The Jam and Dave Gregory of XTC.

If you want to hear "Big Time", buy the "Shaking The Tree" compilation. Or turn on your local 80's radio station. If you want a powerful, honest piece of work by an outstandingly original musical artist, buy this CD.

It must be difficult to realize that your previous work was with a band that played a significant role in the development of rock only to want more freedom in your music. Peter Gabriel's first two albums established he wasn't afraid to try new styles and in general have fun with music. Many of the songs from his first two albums are good but forgettable, however on number three he creates a masterepiece.

Building on growing themes of paranoia and a general darkness seldom put to uptempo or commercial music on this Peter Gabriel album, #3 but commonly referred to as "melting face" a new type of music is forged.

Amid a musical era where progressive rock was frowned upon by critics and radio Gabriel put out songs like Intruder, as creepy as any song gets with it's disimbodied and treated vocals along with what would be an 80's and still popular drum recording technique called gating, this makes the drum sound huge but cuts off (thus the word gate) the end part of the sound - very creative and still used 23 years later.

Beyond the treated vocals and sounds Intruder was simply creepy and once you got past that you were greeted with yet another take on self doubt, loathing and general ill ease.

Keep in mind this was revolutionary stuff for 1980 and led to recording techniques adopted by industrial and gothic artists along with progressive and punk acts. This album runs the full course of emotions ending with the rousing saga of Steven Biko, anti aparthid martyr and reason for one of rocks most common anthems coming into existance. Between the claustrophobic beginning and the soaring ending are punk/prog merges like And Through The Wire and Not One of Us along with the story of the making of a killer written in dramatic yet grounded style and performance.

This has always been Gabriel's forte and he uses it to incredible effect on this album. There is not a dull moment on this album and for people I was friends with at times it was almost too intense. No doubt part of the reason Atlantic dropped Gabriel refusing to release this album.

Fortunately Mercury did and PG saw some commercial success with FM hits Games Without Frontiers and Biko. And soon after this album's release you could hear the hoards of people trying to get the sound and feel found here. Except for Phil Collin's drum sound most of the imitations were pale in comparison. The thing to remember though is how groundbreaking this album was at the time of it's release. Finally PG put together the themes he wanted to write about with the kind of music he related to and wanted to experiment with.

This was absolutely stunning in 1980 is one of the few technologically based albums from that era to hold up well 22 years later.

This is an essential purchase.

Firstly I must admit I had low expectations of this album having only really thought of Gabriel in the context of `sledgehammer' (you couldn't escape THAT video in the 80's) I purchased this album on vinyl for a pound (beat that Amazon!) and filed it away in my collection, one wet Sunday afternoon I was bored and needed something to soundtrack the washing up so after rummaging through my collection for what seemed like an eternity nothing was grabbing me (it takes a certain type of record to wash up to, and don't get me started on vacuuming) by chance I decided to give melt a spin and it blew me away, from the pounding drum pattern of `intruder' , a stalkers anthem if ever there was one, (you'll notice them at concerts instead of lighters they wave torches), this is a quite unique song where Gabriel sounds a little to much in character but it works to great effect and sets the tone for much of the record if not sonically, although see's the start of a percussion ban throughout, so cymbal and high hat lovers will be ever so dissapointed `Family snapshot' is another fave were again Gabriel adopts a persona this time of an assassin awaiting his target,` and though the wire' featuring, if slightly oddly Paul Weller on guitar not that you'd notice, it's hardly Eddie van halen soloing on Billie jean, `games without frontiers' featuring the always reliable Kate bush was the big hit which I had heard before though not realising it was on this album, in truth the albums works on every level, hangs together well as a piece, lyrically unusual (no-where is baby rhymed with maybe) and all the better for it, sonically it sounds fresh even inventive drumming is great, (this was when Phil Collins was just a drummer, if only he'd stayed there...) on the basis of this I bought Gabriel two (scratch) but it doesn't compare to this album a gem if ever I've heard one. highly recommended.