By the time Apple Venus was released, it had been seven years since the last XTC album, a long enough period that many fans were left wondering whether there would be anything new from the group. Especially because in that stretch, Partridge had busied himself writing songs for other people: the creators of the film version of James And The Giant Peach (a job he lost in place of Randy Newman), ambient artist Harold Budd, and former Lilac Time frontman Stephen Duffy. From the outside, it looked as if Partridge had just given up on his band.

In reality, the band was stuck in the middle of their strike against Virgin Records until 1997. Frustrated with their record deal and the lack of support they were given for Nonsuch, XTC remained in stasis, refusing to do any work until they could be released from their contract. Seems like such a quaint notion today, but at the time, Virgin had their hooks deep into the band, and it has only been over the last few years that the core trio have been able to wrest control of some of their work to be remastered and reissued.

Finally free, the band threw themselves into their next project with aplomb, deciding to showcase two sides of their collective personality with successive albums: one an acoustic, orchestral saunter through open fields and vast countryside, the other a grittier return to the mechanized modern world.

The contrast between the two is startling, as noted already on this list, and has only grown more so in the years since. Apple Venus is such an openhearted gesture from this band, ambitious and lush in its instrumentation and arrangements. And it finds Partridge in the midst of a songwriting hot streak he hadn’t experienced since Skylarking.

Almost all the songs on Apple Venus are tied together thematically, with lyrics that reference the beauty and wonder of the natural world and that are imbued with a sense of joy at life. Think of the loping Music Hall ramble of “Frivolous Tonight,” the delicious double entendres of “Easter Theatre,” the heart-swollen sentiments of “Knights In Shining Karma,” and the montage of village life that marks “Harvest Festival.” Wrapped up in the bows of the London Sessions Orchestra recorded at Abbey Road Studios and the pair’s warm singing, it’s an audio hug bathed in spring sunshine.

It’s also what makes the bitter taste of “Your Dictionary” so hard to swallow. I don’t mean that to say that it is a bad song. You’ve never heard Partridge sound as direct and angry as he does here. But coming as it does after the English folk shimmy and whirl of “Greenman,” it’s like a dark cloud interrupting the solstice celebration. But who here hasn’t carried a broken, stomped-on heart in their hands, wondering aloud, “S-H-I-T, is that how you spelt me in your dictionary?” Wisely, too, Partridge eases back on to the glen with a closing bridge that chimes and breathes deep and a hopeful glance toward the future.

Apple Venus also marked the end of Dave Gregory’s tenure in the band. Frustrated with the struggles with Virgin and likely Partridge’s sizable ego, he left before the album was released. Hence, he’s listed only as a featured performer in the credits and is in none of the promotional photos. His instrumental presence is still evident on the record — the wistful piano lines on “I Can’t Own Her” and “Harvest Festival,” and his vocal harmonies throughout — but his absence is palpable on the follow-up recording Wasp Star. He brought so much air and light to so much of XTC’s ’80s and ’90s work that without it, the band just wasn’t the same.