Hence, a much larger number of discoveries this year. So large in fact, that for the first time we need to divide a year into not only two but three parts. This first part has an equal number of great songs and albums as the previous entries, yet we will manage to cover only the first three months of the year! This is of course not solely because I was lonely and had ample time to find new music: 1973 was also a truly golden year for progressive rock. Or, quality rock music in general, as exemplified below.
In January, neither one of my two favorites represented progressive rock genre. Instead, both were released by British hard rock bands. I had paid some attention to Free already in 1970, when you could hear their anthem All Right Now just about everywhere. Their new song Wishing Well from their final album Heartbreaker worked even better for me. You can check it out above.
And below, you can listen to the first track from Deep Purple's new album Who Do We Think We Are that came out on 26 January. It is called Woman from Tokyo and it still remains one of my absolute favorites from the group's output. Other songs from that album did not excite me as much, and to my understanding, the actual Purple fans prefer Machine Head and In Rock.
ELO 2, released in February, still didn't represent a clear breakthrough for Electric Light Orchestra. However, it became a significant album in two ways. First, it gave the group a single hit in Roll Over Beethoven. I never liked it much, but apparently it struck a chord in countless others. Second, it indicated that the group had potential to become one of the greatest art rock bands of the time.
This was due to the stunning From the Sun to the World, which would have been the single greatest piece of music in many a year since, but which in 1973 was only the greatest piece of music in... well, the first two months, actually. Running a little over eight minutes, the song is apparently timed to match the time it takes light from the sun to travel to the earth (8 minutes and 19 seconds, to be precise). Brilliant piano work by group newcomer Richard Tandy and a great composition.
February also saw the release of an important debut album. The British progressive rock outfit Camel was formed already in 1971 and were able to publish their self titled first album now. It is not one of my favorites in their discography. It is less proggy and more regular rock sounding than their following albums. However, even this record contains a standout song Never Let Go, which is absolutely worth checking out.
Paradoxically, towards the end of the month I was again preferring regular rock music to prog. On 25 February, Alice Cooper released the hard rock classic Billion Dollar Babies, the greatness of which was one of the very few things that I could agree on with the bullies in my class. At this point, Alice Cooper was really a band effort and not a solo artist. The group would go on to release one more album after this, and then Alice would continue solo.
It is hard to pick only one track from an almost flawless album, but I guess the greatest piece on it is the opening track Hello Hooray, which actually was not an original Alice Cooper song but a new version of a previously recorded one. Note Bob Ezrin's grandiose sounding production that gave the entire album an operatic feel.
And then there was March 1973. Probably the most amazing month in music so far, even beating November of 1971 that seemed so unbeatable at the time. Let's begin with the least important new release, which is not saying much since it is also very recommendable.
Roy Wood had by now quit Electric Light Orchestra, although he did play strings and bass on two of the tracks on ELO 2; one of them was From the Sun to the World embedded above. Now, he had a group of his own called Wizzard and their debut album Brew was released in March. I particularly recommend the magnificent closing track Wear a Fast Gun. In addition to Brew, the group also released a pretty good single called Angel Fingers, and Wood even released a single called Forever using his own name. These two singles were probably not released in March but some time in 1973 anyway, so we might as well mention them now.
And that's it. Brew was only a good album. The other four March releases are all undying classics that should be launched into space to prove to all aliens that mankind was once able to create music that deserved to live forever, and the whole universe should be allowed to hear.
First of all, there was John Cale. The Welsh musician had started his career already in the sixties but nothing he had done previously quite prepared me for the masterpiece that was Paris 1919. When I first heard the title track above, I was simply dumbfounded. It sounded like the best song I had ever heard so far. And I had already lived for almost ten years!
But what's even better is that this album is not one great song and lots of mediocre ones. In addition to the title track, you should check out at least the lovely Hanky Panky Nohow; the obviously autobiographical Child's Christmas in Wales; the immensely beautiful The Endless Plain of Fortune. And... oh, I give up. Please check out the entire album! It is an incredible songwriting achievement. The downside of it is that Cale would never be able to top it, even though he has had a long career since and has written plenty of outstanding music also during the following decades.
And then there was Procol Harum. They have already been mentioned several times before, but it wasn't until March 1973 that they released their greatest album that also contained their greatest ever song. John Cale did the exact same thing, and they seemed to follow suit by making the title track their best. But, just like it was with Paris 1919, do not stop there, check out the entire album. There are several brilliant songs there. My second most favorite must be Fires (Which Burnt Brightly), coincidentally reminiscent of the French theme that was also present on Cale's album.
A particular pinnacle in March was the 23rd which saw the release of two prog classics on the same day. Robert Fripp had completely rearranged King Crimson since the failure of Islands (1971) and the new lineup released their "debut" album Larks' Tongues in Aspic. The drummer was Bill Bruford, who had by now left Yes. The end result, while a bit uneven, was a huge improvement to Islands. The opening track alone was one of the greatest prog tracks ever recorded. I have placed Larks' Tongues in Aspic Part 1 on the tenth place in my Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces list. You can read more about it right here and listen to the entire track below.
On the exact same date with King Crimson, Pink Floyd released a little something called The Dark Side of the Moon. The rest is history. We are now dealing with a work of art that is considered one of the greatest in rock history and that stayed on some album lists for not only weeks, or months, or even years, but decades. I don't think I will be able to say anything about it that hasn't already been said - except maybe to mention the slightly embarrassing fact that it peaked at #10 on the Finnish album chart. This seems a bit lame, shame on us!
It is kind of hard to pick a sample from an ageless classic, but I guess the one below summarizes its essence. For me, the best part of the album has always been the opening, and the sample below nicely concludes with Time, which at the time and still now remains my favorite track on the phenomenal The Dark Side of the Moon.
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