Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells Ii Flac
They called it the Echo Lake, though for most of history it had another name nobody remembered. The water lay still as glass most mornings, reflecting the thin, silver face of the moon and the ragged line of pines. Locals said the lake kept its own time—old rhythms that had nothing to do with clocks—and if you sat very quietly on the mossy stones by the shore at midnight, you could hear faint sounds rising from its depths: a slow, skeletal chime like metal struck by wind.
Mike, a restless sound archivist who collected forgotten recordings the way others collected stamps, found an old rumor online: a sonically immaculate FLAC rip called "Tubular Bells II — Echo Lake Session." It had been uploaded once, vanished, reuploaded by strangers, and mentioned in forum threads that read like campfire confessions. The titles were always the same—Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells II FLAC—followed by a location: Echo Lake. No proof, only half-heard descriptions: “the bells are deeper here,” “you can hear someone breathing under the bass,” “it resolves itself into footsteps.”
Obsessed, Mike drove out to the lake with a battered DAP and a lightweight recorder. He wanted the sound, but he wanted something else too: an explanation, a concrete link between the mythic music and whatever made it sing under the water.
The first night he camped in the hollow behind the boathouse. He set his recorder on the stones, the microphones cupped like tiny ears to capture even the faintest metallic bloom. Midnight came and went. The air was cold; the pines whispered. At 2:13 a.m. the recorder registered a pattern—low, bell-like harmonics layered over a rhythm that felt both ancient and modern, like someone had hollowed time itself and played it with mallets. The sound was unmistakable: chords curled and unfurled, fragile as frost. Tubular tones, but not the ones you’d expect—longer, with a wet decay, as though each strike was breathing through water.
Mike listened back in the dim of his tent. The waveform on his screen looked wrong: there were repeated harmonics precisely locked to nothing he could identify. When he amplified the recording, beneath the bells he found something else—an undercurrent of footsteps, distant and careful, and, impossibly, a voice humming the melody under the tide of percussion. Not words, just a human presence stitched into the music as if a player crouched beneath the surface, striking glass with intent.
He went back each night. The pattern persisted and changed as if the lake remembered him. Some nights the bells were melancholy, wrapped in the thin ache of a muted trumpet; other nights they unfurled into bright contrapuntal runs that chased one another like dragonflies. Mike cataloged them, labeled them, tagged bit-depth and sampling rates—the archivist in him measuring silver in samples per second. He converted the best takes into FLAC files and burned them to a small stack of discs he kept in his jacket, each titled with the same ceremonial phrase: Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells II FLAC — Echo Lake Session — Night 3.
On the seventh night, the lake gave him a phrase so clean it felt invasive. The bells spelled a slow, patient melody that threaded through memory like a seam: a lullaby someone might hum for a boat, for a child, for a world that had once been simple. Mike followed it with his recorder and then with his feet. The sound led him down a narrow path slick with moonlight to a pier that staggered out into the black.
Halfway across, the boards hummed under him in sympathetic resonance. The bells from below were louder now, each strike causing the pier’s old bolts to sing. He set the recorder on the edge and leaned forward. The air tasted like iron and chlorophyll. Then—right at the moment he expected silence or nothing at all—the surface broke.
It was not a person. It was the ruins of something that had been made for music: a rusted contraption of hollow metal tubes, bent and fused into an impossible instrument, half-submerged, its open mouths pointing at the stars. Algae clung like green silk. A single long tube rose from the tangle like a vertebra. Wind—or water—moved through it and sounded like cathedral bells. For a moment Mike understood two things at once: the instrument had been there a long time, and it had been played by hands that were no longer living.
A sound came from the shoreline behind him: someone humming, the same melody he’d been recording all week. He turned. An old woman stood beneath the pines, a headlamp like a tiny moon around her neck. Her eyes were bright and wholly untroubled by the years hollowing her skin.
“You came with the recorder,” she said, voice like a cracked bell. She nodded to the contraption. “We built it to remind the lake of names. You want the truth?” She did not wait for his answer. “These pipes remember. They remember the hands that held them and the songs they were taught. Sometimes the bell sings the name of who’s come or gone. Sometimes it sings the name the lake prefers.”
Mike tried to ask what the instrument had been, who made it, what the names were, but the woman shook a thin, impatient hand.
“You can take the sound,” she said. “You’ll put it in perfect bits and rarities. You’ll call it FLAC because you like the honesty of zeros and ones. But you must know: when you take the lake’s bell into a different house of sound, it will shift. It will want to fit the rooms you live in. Remember to return a note now and then. The lake will sleep better.”
He did not understand everything she meant, but he understood enough. He recorded the instrument from the pier until dawn, capturing a suite of tones so pure it felt like breaking glass in slow motion. The files were brilliant: quiet clarity, endless decay, the little breathing spaces between strikes. He called them what everyone called them online: Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells II FLAC — Echo Lake Session — Night 7. He posted them exactly once to a small forum under a name nobody would track back to, then removed the post and kept a single copy on a flash drive.
The files spread anyway. People who heard them felt small and vast at once—memories surfaced for strangers, houseplants stopped dying, distant lovers wrote reconciliations. Their reverence came from the uncanny way the bells seemed to finish the listener’s own private melodies. Some said it was Mike Oldfield’s spirit, some said genius sample making, or the result of a field recorder mic and the right geometry of pipe and lake. None of them could agree on the how.
Months later, a record label contacted Mike with an offer: remaster, press, release—title it Tubular Bells II: Echo Lake Edition and market it as a lost session. He declined. He burned two more discs and buried one beneath the stones of the pier and dropped the other into the deepest part of the lake, wrapped in wax and old sheet music. He wanted the music to be both heard and held back, like a tide that knew its limits.
People still talk about the files. Some collectors have clean FLACs that purport to be the Echo Lake recordings; others swear they're fakes. The old woman on the shore visits from time to time and hums into the night, and when she does, the bells answer, and the lake remembers names nobody else knows. Mike listens sometimes, in his small apartment full of labeled binders and perfectly digitized silence, and he keeps one thing always: a single raw recording without tags, uncompressed, saved in an old drive he never plugs into the internet. He locks it away not to hide it but to make sure the lake knows someone left the bell with an unbroken memory.
Years later, when asked where the sound came from, Mike tells the story in the same soft way the old woman spoke: a place that remembers names, a ruined instrument, a nighttime chorus under a wooden pier. Listeners nod, they file the tale away with other origin myths—a quaint anecdote attached to a pristine FLAC. And sometimes, late at night, if you have the right file and the right set of headphones and you close your eyes, you can hear the bells breathe through metal and water and remember a name you never knew you had.
This review for Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells II focuses on the lossless
experience, which is arguably the only way to truly appreciate this specific masterpiece. The Definitive Upgrade: A Review of Tubular Bells II (FLAC) Tubular Bells was the raw, experimental spark of a genius, Tubular Bells II
is the polished, cinematic realization of that same spirit. While the 1992 sequel follows a familiar structural roadmap, the production is vastly more sophisticated—and that is exactly why listening to it in is essential. The Sonic Depth
In a lossy format (like MP3), the dense layers of Oldfield’s instrumentation often feel "squeezed." In FLAC, the soundstage opens up. The iconic opening "Sentinel" benefits immediately; the pulsating synths have a crispness that mimics a live performance, and the transition into the acoustic guitar segments feels tactile and immediate. You can hear the pick hitting the strings, not just the note itself. Instrumentation & Clarity
Oldfield is a master of texture. In tracks like "The Bell," the lossless format allows you to distinguish between the dizzying array of instruments—glockenspiels, mandolins, and heavy distortion guitars—without them bleeding into a muddy mid-range. The "Caveman" sequence (reimagined here as "Altered State") is punchy and visceral, with the bass frequencies retaining a tight, controlled rumble that lower-bitrate files simply can't replicate. The Verdict Tubular Bells II
is an album built on nuance and dynamic shifts. It moves from delicate, whispered melodies to soaring, orchestral crescendos. The FLAC version preserves that dynamic range, ensuring that the quietest bell chime and the loudest electric guitar solo carry their intended emotional weight. Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells II FLAC
For any audiophile or Oldfield devotee, this isn't just a "nice-to-have" format—it's the only way to hear the intricate clockwork of the album as it was meant to be heard.
Rating: 5/5 – A sonic journey that demands the highest fidelity. itself, or perhaps compare it to the original 1973
You're interested in the iconic soundtrack "Tubular Bells" by Mike Oldfield!
What is Tubular Bells?
"Tubular Bells" is a musical composition by Mike Oldfield, released in 1973. It's a groundbreaking instrumental piece that features a unique blend of progressive rock, classical, and folk music elements. The soundtrack was commissioned for the film "The Exorcist," and it has since become a classic of its own right.
About the soundtrack
The original "Tubular Bells" soundtrack consists of two parts:
The FLAC format
FLAC (Free Lossless Audio Codec) is a popular audio format that allows for the storage and playback of high-quality audio files without any loss of data. A FLAC file is an encoded audio file that contains the original audio data, making it a great choice for audiophiles and music enthusiasts.
Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells II
In 1999, Mike Oldfield released a sequel to the original "Tubular Bells" soundtrack, titled "Tubular Bells II." This new composition was written for the 50th anniversary of the BBC Concert Orchestra and features a similar blend of classical and rock elements.
Guide to Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells II FLAC
If you're looking to download or purchase a FLAC file of "Tubular Bells II," here are some things to keep in mind:
Tips and recommendations
Enjoy your musical journey with Mike Oldfield's "Tubular Bells II" FLAC!
Released on August 31, 1992, Tubular Bells II was Mike Oldfield
's highly anticipated sequel to his 1973 masterpiece. Transitioning from Virgin to Warner Music, Oldfield collaborated with producer Trevor Horn to create a more polished, "light and airy" reimagining of the original’s structure. Audiophile Focus: FLAC & High-Res
For listeners seeking FLAC versions, it is critical to distinguish between different digital masters:
Original 1992 Master: Generally preferred by audiophiles for its high dynamic range (DR12), providing a clear and nuanced soundstage.
2015 SHM-CD / Reissues: While appearing as high-quality FLAC, some recent reissues (like the Japanese SHM-CD) have been criticized for "loudness war" mastering, featuring significant clipping and a reduced dynamic range (DR9).
Live Recordings: A high-resolution audio experience of this album is also available via the Live at Edinburgh Castle recordings, which captured the album's debut performance. Tracklist & Structure
Unlike the original, which consisted of two long parts, Tubular Bells II is divided into 14 distinct, segued tracks: Sentinel (8:07) – Reinterprets the iconic opening theme. Dark Star (2:16) Clear Light (5:48)
Blue Saloon (2:59) – A minimal reinterpretation of the original's blues section. Sunjammer (2:32) Red Dawn (1:50) They called it the Echo Lake, though for
The Bell (6:59) – Features Alan Rickman as the Master of Ceremonies. Weightless (5:43) The Great Plain (4:47) Sunset Door (2:23) Tattoo (4:15) – Notable for its use of bagpipes. Altered State (5:12) Maya Gold (4:01) Moonshine (1:42) – A "jaunty" closing track. Critical & Commercial Impact
Chart Performance: Just like its predecessor, the album reached #1 in the UK Albums Chart.
Production: Trevor Horn’s influence is credited with adding a "fairy dust" quality, moving away from the "aggression" of the 1973 original.
Legacy: While some saw it as a "1992 copy," fans praised it as a mature evolution of Oldfield's craft, utilizing the superior technology of the early '90s. Tubular Bells II - Dark Star Mike Oldfield Magazine
A key feature to look for in a Mike Oldfield – Tubular Bells II (FLAC) release is that it is typically sourced from the 1992 original studio master (or the 1998 HDCD remaster), offering lossless CD-quality (16-bit / 44.1 kHz) or higher resolution.
Here are the specific features of a genuine Tubular Bells II FLAC:
Tip: Avoid generic MP2 or lossy-transcoded files. Verify with a spectrogram (frequency up to ~22.05 kHz for CD FLAC) or tools like Spek or Fakin’ The Funk.
Whether you are a lifelong fan or a newcomer to progressive rock, hearing Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells II in FLAC (Free Lossless Audio Codec) is the definitive way to experience this 1992 masterpiece.
Released exactly twenty years after the original phenomenon, Tubular Bells II isn't just a sequel; it is a reimagining. While it follows the structural "DNA" of the 1973 debut—winding through shifting time signatures and eclectic instrumentation—the production reflects the peak of early-90s recording technology. Why FLAC is Essential for This Album
Tubular Bells II is a dense, "symphonic" rock record. Listening in a lossless format like FLAC is crucial for several reasons:
The Dynamic Range: The album transitions from the delicate, haunting piano of "Sentinel" to the explosive, brass-heavy climax of "The Bell." Lossless audio preserves the "air" and space between these shifts that MP3s often flatten.
Instrumental Separation: Mike Oldfield played almost every instrument himself. In FLAC, you can clearly distinguish the layers of acoustic guitars, banjos, glockenspiels, and the iconic tubular bells without the "muddiness" of compression.
The Trevor Horn Production: Produced alongside the legendary Trevor Horn, the album has a polished, cinematic sheen. High-fidelity audio ensures you hear the subtle synth textures and percussion details exactly as they were captured in the studio. Key Tracks to Test Your Audio Setup
"Sentinel": The opening track. Listen for the crispness of the piano melody and the way the bass gradually anchors the theme.
"The Bell": The grand finale of Part One. Featuring Alan Rickman as the Master of Ceremonies, the clarity of his voice against the building orchestration is a highlight of the lossless experience.
"Maya Gold": A track that showcases Oldfield’s unique guitar tone, which should sound warm and "singing" in a high-quality format.
For audiophiles, Tubular Bells II in FLAC is more than just a digital file—it’s a front-row seat to one of the most meticulously crafted albums in rock history.
Creating a (Free Lossless Audio Codec) version of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells II
(1992) ensures you hear the complex layering and orchestral dynamics exactly as intended, without the data loss of MP3s. 💿 Option 1: Rip from the Physical CD (Recommended) Tubular Bells II
was a major 1992 release, physical CDs are widely available and cheap on
. Ripping your own copy is the most reliable way to get a "bit-perfect" FLAC. Tools You Need Exact Audio Copy (EAC) is the gold standard for secure, error-free rips. X Lossless Decoder (XLD) provides similar high-fidelity results. Ripping Steps Configure EAC/XLD: Set the output format to and level 5 or 8 (compression doesn't affect quality). Use the built-in MusicBrainz
features in the app to automatically pull track titles like "Sentinel" and "The Bell." Secure Mode:
Ensure "Secure Mode" is enabled to catch any read errors caused by scratches on the disc. 🛒 Option 2: Buy Digital FLAC The FLAC format FLAC (Free Lossless Audio Codec)
If you don't have a CD drive, you can purchase the album in CD-quality (16-bit/44.1kHz) or High-Res (24-bit) FLAC from specialty stores. Usually carries the 16-bit FLAC version.
Another reliable source for high-quality lossless downloads. ProStudioMasters
Check here if you are looking for specifically remastered or 50th-anniversary-related high-res bundles. 🛠️ Verification & Management
Once you have your FLAC files, follow these steps to keep your library clean: Check Integrity: AudioTester to ensure the FLAC files aren't corrupted.
to embed high-resolution album art (the iconic yellow/orange curved bell).
For the best experience, use a player that supports "Gapless Playback" (like foobar2000 ), as the tracks on Tubular Bells II flow into one another. Look for the 1992 WEA European Pressing
(4509-90618-2) if you are buying a used CD; it is widely considered a very clean and faithful master. like EAC, or are you looking for a specific remaster of the album?
In part two, Oldfield introduces a grand piano that plays melodic lines against a dark synth pad. The sustain of the piano strings interacting with the synth creates intermodulation distortion. MP8 loses the harmonic interaction; FLAC retains the complex, beating frequencies.
In 1973, Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells challenged the limitations of analog multitrack recording. Nineteen years later, Tubular Bells II faced a different challenge: the rise of compressed digital audio. While critics focused on its self-referentiality, audio engineers recognized the album as a stress test for digital codecs. This paper posits that the FLAC version of Tubular Bells II represents the canonical listening experience, as it alone preserves the work’s structural integrity.
In the pantheon of progressive rock and ambient electronic music, few albums carry as much weight as Mike Oldfield’s 1973 debut, Tubular Bells. Its haunting opening piano motif became the soundtrack to a generation’s nightmares courtesy of The Exorcist. But for the true connoisseur, the story didn’t end there. Two decades later, in 1992, Oldfield released Tubular Bells II—a sequel that dared to revisit the masterpiece while leveraging a decade of digital recording advancements.
Today, audiophiles and Oldfield devotees are on a specific quest: securing Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells II FLAC files. Why the fuss over a 30-year-old album? Because this specific combination—a generational masterpiece preserved in a lossless audio format—represents a pinnacle of listening.
The Album: Tubular Bells II (1992) Artist: Mike Oldfield Format Listened To: FLAC (16-bit/44.1kHz, ripped from original CD pressings/HDTracks) The Context: Can you sequelize a seismic shift in music history? 20 years after Tubular Bells launched Virgin Records and terrified a generation with that iconic Exorcist theme, Mike Oldfield did exactly that. Tubular Bells II isn’t a rehash; it’s a re-imagining. And listening to it in FLAC (Free Lossless Audio Codec) isn’t just an audiophile flex—it’s essential to understanding the album’s architecture.
Not all FLAC files are created equal. Over the years, Tubular Bells II has had several releases:
Oldfield uses a signature "speed guitar" technique (layered, rapid-picked arpeggios). In MP3 format, the temporal resolution blurs. The sharp, percussive attack of the nylon-string guitars in "The Sentinel" turns into a mushy wash. In FLAC, you hear the string resonating against the fret, the pick strike, and the immediate decay into the silence.
Buy the FLAC if:
Stick to MP3 if:
Final Score:
Go find a quiet room, turn off the lights, put on good headphones, and play the FLAC. When the distorted guitar enters at 1:18 of "Sentinel," you’ll understand.
Released on August 31, 1992, Tubular Bells II is the 15th studio album by English musician Mike Oldfield. Serving as the first direct sequel to his 1973 masterpiece, it marked Oldfield's debut for Warner Music UK after a long tenure with Virgin Records. For listeners seeking the highest audio fidelity, the album is widely available in FLAC (Free Lossless Audio Codec) format, preserving the intricate layers of its 14 tracks. Album Overview and Production
The album re-imagines themes from the original Tubular Bells using modern production techniques and a vast array of instruments. Producers: Mike Oldfield, Trevor Horn, and Tom Newman. Key Personnel:
Master of Ceremonies (MC): Alan Rickman (credited as "A Strolling Player") introduces the instruments in "The Bell".
Digital Sound Processing: Eric Caudieux, whose role is uniquely name-checked during "The Bell".
Additional Musicians: Includes Sally Bradshaw (vocals), Jamie Muhoberac (keyboards), and the Celtic Bevy Band (bagpipes). Tracklist
The album consists of 14 tracks that mirror the structure of the 1973 original: Sentinel (8:06) Dark Star (2:16) Clear Light (5:47) Blue Saloon (2:58) Sunjammer (2:32) Red Dawn (1:49) The Bell (6:55) Weightless (5:43) The Great Plain (4:46) Sunset Door (2:23) Tattoo (4:14) Altered State (5:12) Maya Gold (4:00) Moonshine (1:42) Audio Quality and FLAC Availability Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells II Lyrics and Tracklist