The first half of 1972

Following the stunning year end of 1971, early 1972 was a little quieter. I took a little break from prog and started listening to Neil Young, whose album Harvest was released on Valentine's Day, 14 February. I particularly liked the song Old Man, and am glad that it has become the classic I always thought it deserved to be.

Another non-prog favorite of mine was released in March. I had already been a bit interested in the development of British hard rock band Deep Purple, and it was their album Machine Head that finally convinced me. The most famous tune on this album is of course Smoke on the Water, with its memorable sequence of guitar chords, but another one that I also enjoyed was the opening track Highway Star. Quality rock and roll at its best, full of energy, and with some embarrassingly stupid lyrics to boot.

Around the same time, Jethro Tull started changing their style again. They had started as a pretty straightforward blues rock outfit with This Was (1968) and Stand Up (1969), then corrected their course towards more folk rock oriented sound with Benefit (1970) and Aqualung (1971). With their fifth album, released on 10 March, they suddenly started to gravitate towards progressive rock, although their folk rock roots were still easily audible. This would turn out to be a rather temporary diversion for Ian Anderson and the guys, but here it was in any case.

Thick as a Brick contains only one song, a lengthy composed poem that runs all the way through both sides of the vinyl album. Nowadays, it is considered the band's greatest work. Personally, I have always had minor problems with the B side (Part Two), which doesn't bring much new to the mix. The first part is a masterpiece, agreed. As a whole, I have always preferred next year's A Passion Play which doesn't have the repetition problem. Below, you can hear the whole thing.

Another month, another memorable album. Wish it were like this in the 2010's. On 14 April, Gentle Giant released their third album Three Friends, and while it didn't quite live up to the expectations set by the amazing Acquiring the Taste, it was still a pretty damn fine album. This time, the guys went the theme album route, telling the heartbreaking story of three childhood friends who swore to always stay friends, but who were inevitably separated when they grew up to completely different directions, to become men with little common ground between them.

The childhood part called Schooldays is almost certainly the single best song I have ever heard about childhood. Don't even mention Marillion. Even the composition completely supports the lyrics, giving the work a feel of nostalgia; of young lives happily lived before they transformed into something else altogether. An unmissable track for this year. A fan favorite Peel the Paint opens the B side, and the title track that closes the album is an immensely beautiful summary of the storyline. Of lives started together and separated later.

Another month went by, and Uriah Heep released their (probably) best known album Demons and Wizards on 19 May - only two days before my ninth birthday. It contained the group's biggest hit Easy Livin' which became an instant rock classic. I had almost forgotten about the group since Come Away, Melinda, but now they returned in a big way. There were also other quality rock songs on the album, but everyone else's favorite was also mine. Even my mother, who in general hated rock music, liked Easy Livin'.

Less than three weeks later, on 6 June an even bigger favorite of mine emerged. David Bowie's release of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars didn't otherwise connect to me in a major way, but its single hit Starman did. During this summer, my family was building a house and I specifically remember listening to Starman whenever possible while we were at the construction site. My absolute favorite song of the year at age nine.

Another song from summer of 1972 that I felt was catchy as hell, was the opening track from a self titled album by a new, rising talent. Roxy Music was already then and would also be later, like a set where Bryan Ferry performed but the original lineup also featured my future favorite Brian Eno. I never became a big fan, but oh boy, isn't Virginia Plain just about perfect when it comes to rock/pop songs? The album's release date was 16 June.

Precisely one week later, right on the eve of Midsummer, it was time for Jethro Tull to release yet another album, this time a double vinyl LP. However, they weren't really working themselves to death. Living in the Past was a compilation of sorts. One of the four album sides was a live recording, some songs had already appeared on other albums but were now released in an alternate version.

The title track was a single from May 1969 which I suppose should have been mentioned already when discussing that year. There were also some outtakes from earlier albums and an excellent Life is a Long Song EP, the title track of which is one of the prettiest songs Jethro Tull ever recorded. This EP had been released already in 1971 - another unintended omission from an earlier blog entry. Let's try to make up for it by embedding the title track right here.

Before we take a short summer break, let's mention one more interesting album release. I had already been keeping an eye on the American jazz influenced rock group Chicago, who had before 1972 already released three double LP's (!) as well as a box set of live material.  They called their new album Chicago V even though it was actually only their fourth studio recording. Also, it was their first single disc release. It came out at the height of summer, on 10 July.

This album is notable for at least a couple of excellent tracks. On side A, the highlight was the two part song Dialogue. I particularly liked the second part which, even though it was recorded in an expensive studio with high production values, sounded like a genuinely enjoyable, spontaneous jam session. Another favorite was Saturday in the Park, strangely hidden to its second place on B side. Very sunny and positive music perfectly fitting my summer holiday from school.

Following the break, we will continue with the rest of 1972. Overall, it seems that for a third year in a row, the second half outdoes the first part, as good as the first half also was. There are still albums coming out from two time "album of the year" winner Genesis, as well as their main competitor Yes, and another one during the same year from Gentle Giant. So stay tuned for more!

1971: An avalanche of classics

In October 1971, several other fine recordings were released in addition to Teaser and the Firecat mentioned in the previous blog entry. Let's begin with Moving Waves, the second studio album of the Dutch band Focus. Their previous effort In and Out of Focus (1970) hadn't made any particular impression on me and even this second effort was mostly just OK. But the opening track Hocus Pocus was something that I immediately enjoyed, and it did become the group's best known song.

October also saw the release of the fourth album by Van der Graaf Generator. The British group represented the more challenging end of the prog rock spectrum, and Pawn Hearts was their ultimate masterpiece. So masterful in fact, that it led to a four year hiatus for them. Their temporary breakup felt as if they had thrown in the towel in despair: how could we possibly ever improve on this achievement? Luckily, in 1975 they found the courage to continue trying. I have written about the B side filler A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers last year, when it ended up on the fifth place on the Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces list. You can check that out right here.

On 11 October, Harry Nilsson astounded me with his new single release Without You. Previously, he was familiar to me from the song Everybody's Talkin' that appeared on Midnight Cowboy soundtrack a couple of years earlier. Now, I was impressed with the depth of feeling he displayed on this new single. Even though the whole performance was a bit pathetic, granted, I could still easily believe in the depth of feeling on display. And believability is enough. In November, Nilsson released his new album Nilsson Schmilsson, where Without You was also contained.

When Pink Floyd released Meddle on 30 October, it seemed that it would conclude an unbeatable month. Could someone ever have anticipated that November was going to be even more incredible? Hard to say afterwards. Since Ummagumma, Pink Floyd had done some more film soundtrack work and failed spectacularly with last year's Atom Heart Mother. Meddle, although a bit uneven, began their return to world class.

Everyone has heard the album's opening track, classic One of These Days. I have personally lauded the B side filler Echoes in Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces over here. There are three slightly blues oriented tracks on side A that aren't particularly good. This leaves us with the second track of the album, A Pillow of Winds, which has always felt like a forgotten, overlooked classic in the group's discography. Let's listen to it now.

Then, after this quite excellent October, came the unbelievable November 1971. We are talking about three heavyweight album releases of such caliber, that these days it seems virtually impossible to believe that there has been a time when they've come out in less than a month. In present day, you would need to wait for several years to just get one. But here they are, all three, released in the space of three weeks. Music audience was so enlightened back then compared to what they are now.

The first one out was the rock and roll legend Led Zeppelin, whose fourth album was self titled but which came to be called Led Zeppelin IV. Its release date was 8 November. From prog point of view there was not much to marvel, but looking at the album as a collection of pure rock songs, its creativity never fails to astound. Stairway to Heaven has been selected as the ultimate rock track by an endless array of different polls, and for good reason. Everyone has heard it before, but there's no reason not to hear it once more - particularly by kids of today, who have grown up listening to Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj and their ilk. Hello children! Did you know that rock and roll can be a genuine art form?

But as great as Led Zeppelin IV was, it got beaten only four days later. On 12 November, Genesis responded to The Yes Album with their third LP and succeeded beyond any and all expectations. I immediately recognized that Nursery Cryme was the best album of the year, an accolade now won by the British group for a second year in a row. This made them now the clear frontrunners of the progressive rock movement.

On Trespass, artistic values had already been of the absolute highest order. That album had been lacking only in the precision of its execution. No more. Nursery Cryme was as flawlessly executed as it was artistically ambitious. You could hardly tell that between these two albums, there had been not one but two lineup changes. Drummer John Mayhew had been replaced with Phil Collins, and guitarist Anthony Phillips with Steve Hackett.

Yet, as perfect as Nursery Cryme sounded to me at the time, there was still one small problem with the album. It became only more evident upon repeats. While otherwise just about perfect, Genesis were already now, and would be in the future, slightly annoying when they tried to be humorous. On this album, this problem applied to the A side closing track The Return of the Giant Hogweed. It is the only track on an otherwise perfect album that is clearly below par.

Precisely two weeks after Nursery Cryme, on 26 November, Yes struck back with already their fourth album Fragile. And what a momentous strike that was. If The Yes Album had not yet convinced the prog audiences, this time there was no other option but start believing. Fragile is also a nearly flawless album, and the first undying classic on that group's career.

For Yes, there had also been one lineup change since the last album. Keyboardist Rick Wakeman, previously of Strawbs, had replaced organ player Tony Kaye who had been unwilling to extend his repertoire to other keyboards. This had already given the group' sound a more varying feel. And, like Genesis, Yes was at this point also in the height of their artistic creativity. The result was, like Nursery Cryme, a motherlode of endless invention.

At the time, it must have seemed like this incredible string of classic albums would continue on 3 December when King Crimson were due to release their fourth album. However, this was not to be: only November were to be magic this year. Islands turned out to be a huge disappointment and by far King Crimson's weakest album to date.

One of the main reasons for failure was Robert Fripp's decision to appoint a friend of his to sing and play bass guitar on the album, when the friend in question was not able, let alone skilled enough, to do either of the tasks. You can clearly hear this from the end result. In addition to this, Fripp was at the time courting with classical influences in a way that made the album sound distinctly uncool. The reason we are discussing this album at all is that it still contains one minor classic, an instrumental piece.

The album opens with a song called Formentera Lady, which isn't very interesting to begin with, and which the amateurish singer soon ruins completely. However, the song runs over 10 minutes and during the second half he keeps his mouth shut. This latter half actually sounds kind of interesting, and the skillful way it segues into track number two, Sailor's Tale, never fails to give me chills. And then we are into the magnificient Sailor's Tale, which is the classic I was referring to. After hearing it, you might as well stop playing the album. There is nothing more on offer worth your attention.

December also saw the debut of a new art rock outfit. Electric Light Orchestra rose out of the ashes of the British pop-rock band The Move. Their self titled debut album was quite an achievement, combining the talents of Jeff Lynne and Roy Wood for one final time before Wood quit the group to form a band of his own called Wizzard. There are not too many weak tracks on the album, but their true classics were made some years later after some further artistic development.

And finally, only one week before Christmas, on 17 December David Bowie released his new album Hunky Dory that contained one of the year's classic songs Life on Mars? By now, it was obvious even to me that Bowie was a talent to watch for, and who had permanently joined the art rock elite. And guess who is playing the piano? It is Rick Wakeman once again, of Strawbs and Yes fame.

ALBUMS OF THE YEAR:
Genesis: Nursery Cryme
Gentle Giant: Acquiring the Taste
Yes: Fragile

UNMISSABLE TRACKS OF THE YEAR:
Can: Mushroom
Can: Oh Yeah
David Bowie: Life on Mars?
Electric Light Orchestra: 10538 Overture
Genesis: The Musical Box
Genesis: The Fountain of Salmacis
King Crimson: Sailor's Tale
Pink Floyd: A Pillow of Winds
Pink Floyd: Echoes
Procol Harum: Broken Barricades
Van der Graaf Generator: A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers

1971: Introduction of twin masterworks

1971 is another year that we will have to divide in two. The exceptionally great releases are even more unevenly spread throughout the year than they were in 1970. This time, the first part of the story extends from New Year all the way to early October, and the second one covers the remaining under three months - and yet both have an equal number of entries. The end of this year is amazing.

We will start with an important February release. Prior to this, the West German experimental rock group Can had already made two albums: Monster Movie (1969) and Soundtracks (1970). On their third outing they really started making an impression. Tago Mago was a double LP that also marked a change in the group's lineup. The original singer Malcolm Mooney had left Can after suffering a nervous breakdown in 1970. The new singer Damo Suzuki had a zany style which seemed perfectly fitting to what has been described as Can's most extreme recording in terms of sound and structure.

I wasn't particularly impressed with everything the group saw fit to experiment with, but two of the tracks on the album just blew me away. And this marks the beginning of a peculiar phenomenon which I could for example call twin masterworks. In chronological order, the second and third tracks of Tago Mago represent the first occurrence of two unbelievably great tracks placed in sequence on an album that is otherwise just OK. There are going to be several other examples of this in the future.

Tago Mago opens with Paperhouse, which is just fine, but the next two tracks are in my opinion the defining moments of the group's career. There, they achieve greatness for the first time. The second track Mushroom you can listen to above, and the third track Oh Yeah is a direct continuation to it. There is no pause between the songs, nor should there be. Here, we will begin a tradition: whenever we encounter twin masterworks, we embed them both here, one after another, on the same page. Here comes Oh Yeah, play them both in succession and enjoy:

Tago Mago was not the only significant album to come out in February 1971. On the 19th, Yes released their third one, The Yes Album. This was no longer just an OK album like their two previous ones. This one meant business. An artistic breakthrough, it contained an early classic after early classic and presented a truly formidable challenge to Genesis who had so effortlessly beat them last year with the masterful Trespass. It is difficult to choose an example track, but let's go with the most obvious choice: I've Seen All Good People.

Four weeks later, another classic arrived in record stores. On 19 March, Jethro Tull released their fourth album Aqualung. While I had noticed the development of this British group, this is something I did not anticipate following the lukewarm Benefit (1970). Suddenly, they kicked ass! This applies in particular to the title track which opens the album and remains its most perfect song, even though most of the others are really good too.

The recording cycles of the groups and solo artists in the early seventies were something completely different. In April, it was time for Procol Harum to release yet another album, even if it was only a short time since their last one. The fifth studio recording was called Broken Barricades and once again it contained one undying classic. It was, like on Aqualung, the title track. Otherwise, the album sounded like a small step backwards compared to A Salty Dog and Home, as there weren't too many great moments in addition to the memorable number two track of the A side:

One more spring release is worth mentioning. I haven't found out exactly when the Strawbs album From the Witchwood came out, but since its recording was completed in March, it must have been either late spring or early summer. It is a very recommendable album with several lovely tracks bordering folk as well as progressive rock, and also interesting in that it was what Rick Wakeman was doing before joining Yes later this same year. On Strawbs' recording career, in my personal opinion there is one album that is even better, but this one is also excellent. We will get to their absolute pinnacle a little later.

Then, it was summer. I had turned eight years old, completed first grade, and earned a well deserved summer holiday in Voisalmi. A couple of weeks into that holiday, Emerson Lake & Palmer completed their second studio album Tarkus which came out on 14 June. Here, their descent already began. While the 20-minute, vinyl A side filling title track was pretty neat, there was little else to enjoy. As was typical to the group also later on, they alternated serious music making with juvenile, unfunny humor. A good example is Are You Ready Eddy? that must have been the stupidest recorded work in prog genre during this whole year.

One month later, another sophomore album came out that was way out of ELP's league. Gentle Giant's 16 July release of Acquiring the Taste was a nearly flawless collection of prog rock songs, let down only by a noticeably weak last track. Above, I am embedding the opening track Pantagruel's Nativity which has always been my favorite, but be sure to check out the entire album. Filled with greatest music of its time, it was easily one of the year's best. Other songs not to be missed at any cost include Edge of Twilight and The Moon is Down.

Following Acquiring the Taste, there was a quieter period of three months that saw no masterpieces but some significant albums or songs in any case. We again take a little breather from prog and remind ourselves that The Who's masterwork Who's Next is a true classic regardless of genre. It was released on 14 August in the US and 25 August in the UK. In addition to Won't Get Fooled Again, please be sure to check out at least Baba O'Riley, The Song is Over and Behind Blue Eyes.

I already mentioned Cat Stevens when discussing 1970. On 1 October, his new album Teaser and the Firecat came out and contained one of my absolute favorite songs of the time. At age eight, I was under the impression that Morning Has Broken was written by Stevens himself but this is not the case. The composition itself is traditional, and the lyrics have been written by someone else. Great work, in any case.

Finally, we close this first part of 1971 with yet another Finnish song. I haven't been able to find out when exactly Wigwam released their third studio album Fairyport, but I have reason to believe that it must have taken place during the second half of the year, so let's get shortly into it right now. On the whole, the album itself was not of very much interest, but its second track is one of the most memorable on the group's career. Lost Without a Trace is one of those songs that are so beautiful that in certain circumstances it is more than enough to bring a tear to one's eye.

For some reason, I am once again unable to embed a link to YouTube, so here is a link to Spotify instead. Wigwam seems to have some kind of curse in this respect. Please listen and enjoy.

The later masterpieces of 1970

On 7 August, 1970, The Moody Blues released their sixth studio album Question of Balance. Several of their previous recordings had been only OK, but this time they succeeded in creating not only one but two classic songs of the era. The opening song Question was a rare thing in that, unlike the group's previous output, it had a contemporary political topic: Vietnam war. My personal favorite was, however, the penultimate track, a beautiful ballad called Melancholy Man.

Four weeks later, on 4 September it was time for Caravan to release their second album If I Could Do it All Over Again, I'd Do it All Over You. Compared to their previous outing, the group was now clearly heading towards deeper waters. Prog influences were rearing their beautiful, if a little complicated heads. Several of the tracks contained on the album are recommendable, but if I had to select one, I think it would be the lovely Can't Be Long Now. Wait, I just selected it. Anyway, it is only the first 3 mins. and 35 secs. of the YouTube video below. The rest of the songs that continue there without a pause are Françoise, For Richard and Warlock.

Caravan's second album was the last one to come out while I still lived in Kuopio. Next, I was happy to move back to my birthplace Lappeenranta in mid-September, 1970, and start school there. After attending first grade for about three weeks, the next noteworthy album was out and this is where we need to take a short sidestep from progressive rock, or related genres. Led Zeppelin has absolutely nothing to do with them. But their third album, aptly titled Led Zeppelin III, really piqued my interest after it came out on 5 October.

The most famous song on the album is obviously its opening, Immigrant Song, which in a way seemed quite fitting to my then current life situation, even though I had not been forced to move from one country to another. Only from one town to another within Finland. But yeah, I did come from the land of ice and snow, and felt more than just a little alienated in spite of returning to my original place of birth (that I could hardly remember).

As great as Immigrant Song was, and still is, there were two other tracks that interested me even more. Both were more oriented towards melody and skillful guitar playing. Friends, yes, that's exactly what I was in need of. And That's the Way, so true, that's the way it was then. These three songs seemed to form my autumn soundtrack, until some other great album releases intervened.

The first one of them was the self titled debut album of a new prog giant, Emerson Lake & Palmer. It was released in October, but unfortunately I cannot remember the exact date and haven't been able to find it out afterwards, either. Those who know me are aware that I consider ELP the most overrated progressive rock act of the 1970's and that I loathe most of their pretentious output. But they have done some good work as well, and I consider their debut album overall their best ever. Its closing track Lucky Man is by far the best song they have ever made and could have taught Uriah Heep (see Come Away, Melinda earlier this same year) a thing or two about how to write a genuinely haunting anti war song.

As promising as the ELP debut was, something way more stunning came out at the end of the same month, on 23 October. Last year, when Yes and Genesis released their debuts, Yes beat Genesis hands down. This year, with their second albums, things took an unexpected turn. Time and a Word by Yes was a perfectly fine album, as discussed last time, but Trespass by Genesis was simply astounding and easily the best album of the year.

What had happened to the group that published a collection of mediocre pop songs only a year and a half earlier? The speed with which they had matured was breathtaking. The lovely medieval painting on the cover already prepared the listener to its themes. If you had to choose only one track to use as an example from an album full of masterful songs, you would probably drop the A side closing track Visions of Angels which isn't quite on the same level as the others, but after that you would be hard pressed. Well, I have that situation now and after careful consideration I give you Stagnation.

Before getting into one more great album of 1970, a couple of less significant, yet also important musical events. I started to grow a fondness towards the British singer-songwriter Cat Stevens when, on 23 November, he released the album Tea for the Tillerman. It is worth mentioning due to the inclusion of Father and Son, and in particular Wild World, which were both my favorites at this time. Even better things were to follow during next years.

Only four days later, on 27 November it was time for yet another debut from a future prog giant. Again, this first album didn't really impress but the second one would be a huge leap forward. The giant in question was Gentle Giant, whose self titled debut was already quite challenging and very proggy - no pop songs here: if you don't believe it, just try humming Alucard after hearing it once. My favorite track on this album was again the most mellow one, called Funny Ways.

All right, time to finally wrap up 1970 with only one more album release, and it was one of the best. The only one that was roughly on par with Trespass, was King Crimson's third album Lizard that came out on 11 December. The group had suffered a loss: singer Greg Lake had left, joined ELP, and sang Lucky Man just a short way up on this very same page. There were also other personnel changes, and style changes as well. The new Crimson sounded very jazzy.

I liked all the songs on the A side of the vinyl as well, but the true masterpiece was of course the 23-minute title track that filled the B side in its entirety. I have already written about this unbelievable musical achievement when covering the Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces, you can check out that over here. Overall, I have to place Trespass as the best album of the year, but this long composition is the best individual song.

ALBUMS OF THE YEAR:
Genesis: Trespass
King Crimson: Lizard

UNMISSABLE TRACKS OF THE YEAR:
Beatles: Across the Universe
Beatles: The Long and Winding Road
Emerson Lake & Palmer: Lucky Man
King Crimson: Lizard
Procol Harum: The Dead Man's Dream
Wigwam: Häätö

1970: Goodbyes and hellos

Early 1970 was about saying goodbyes to a couple of sixties' most favorite artists. On 26 January, Simon & Garfunkel released their final studio album Bridge Over Troubled Water. The best, and probably also most famous songs contained therein had a very pathetic, grandiose feel to them, as if the dynamic duo were intentionally saying that this was to be the grand finale of their career. A swan song of an exceptional scale. The songs I am referring to are of course the title track and The Boxer. Everyone knows the former; let's listen to the latter.

Another sixties group that was saying its goodbyes in the spring of 1970 was of course the Beatles. 6 March saw the release of a new single Let it Be which was followed by an album carrying the exact same title on 8 May. Only a couple of weeks shy of being seven years old, I immediately picked two absolute favorite tracks. Granted, the title track was great and it was easily the third best on the album. But the other two felt like John Lennon and Paul McCartney doing their absolutely best for one final time.

Lennon's masterpiece was, of course, Across the Universe, the third song on the A side of the album. I think I can recall the beauty of this particular song moving me to tears at the time. I don't think I quite grasped that this was the greatest band of the 1960's singing their last songs, but nonetheless the song had a somehow final feel to it. After this, there would be no more.

But, as great as Lennon's song was, McCartney managed to easily outdo him this time with the third track on B side. I have always tended to prefer Lennon over McCartney, but The Long and Winding Road is the exception. Quite probably the most moving pop song ever made at the time of its release, it also came out as a single only three days after the album. It is these two songs that in some way completed the Beatles' incredible career. Perhaps there had been many downs as well as ups, but when you can artistically achieve something like this, what more could there be? There is no other way but back down, so why not quit while you're winning big time.

And that's more or less it for goodbyes. A couple of great artists had completed their recording career, many new ones made public their exciting new music. Before moving ahead with the calendar, let's make an important point about some Finnish music. And here it is: in my opinion, arguably the greatest progressive rock song ever made in my home country was also released as a single in 1970. But I have no idea when exactly. I haven't been able to find out even the month of release, so let's dig into it now and get it over with.

Wigwam had already released their debut album Hard n' Horny in 1969 and were about to release their sophomore effort Tombstone Valentine in 1970. Somewhere in between they released this absolutely stunning single called Häätö (in English, Eviction) which I was unable to find in YouTube so here is a link to Spotify instead.

The song comprises of three completely different sequences, which in itself was already groundbreaking. Henrik Otto Donner, who coincidentally died less than a week ago, first reads aloud some psychedelic poetry with violins in the background. Then, one of the group's two singers, Jukka Gustavson sings two verses in Finnish. Suddenly, the other singer, Englishman Jim Pembroke starts singing in English about not wanting to be a Judas. After that, it's Donner, Gustavson, and Donner once more.

Absolutely unbelievable, and years ahead of its time in 1970. Best of all, you cannot find any connection between the separate sequences. Even Gustavson's sequences have nothing in common between them lyrics-wise. And none of this has anything to do with an eviction. Connecting the sequences together is completely artificial, yet it works perfectly.

Precisely one week after the release of Let it Be, on 15 May King Crimson released their second album In the Wake of Poseidon. Last year's In the Court of the Crimson King had been an overwhelming success, so what could Robert Fripp and company do next? That's right, make a carbon copy. Well, some of the way. The opening track Pictures of a City is strangely reminiscent of 21st Century Schizoid Man; the next one Cadence and Cascade is much like I Talk to the Wind; and the title track is the counterpart to Epitaph.

Luckily, the group did not reproduce Moonchild in another form, and actually started to depart from their initial success. Their version of Gustav Holst's Mars, Bringer of War actually sounds pretty cool. But no, this was not the album that would really see them grow artistically. It would be the next one. Due out in December of this very same year. We will definitely get back to it.

Another group that had excelled in 1969 and came out with a new album now, was Procol Harum. Home was already their fourth one. It came out on 5 June. While it was overall a very good collection of songs, there is one track that stands head and shoulders above the others. The brilliant The Dead Man's Dream was not only a first class piece of music; its lyrics actually told a story. A horror story of the worst kind! I guess this was also one reason why I was so drawn to this particular song. The list of unmissable tracks of the year is getting long...

On 13 July, a new talent emerged with a debut album. Uriah Heep was at the time classified as a heavy metal band, because in those days true heaviness was quite hard to come by. Looking back, the group was more like a regular rock band with some prog influences. Their debut Very 'Eavy ... Very 'Umble contained one song that completely enthralled me, I suppose mostly because it was also a story that involved an innocent child - one much like myself at the time. As a critique towards war, Come Away, Melinda is maybe a little naive, but a beautiful song in any case.

And finally, on 24 July, Yes released their sophomore album Time and a Word. It was definitely more accomplished than their first one, yet a long way from the level they would reach in only a couple of more years. In many places, they were still sounding like some pop group, yet in others they really did challenge the listener with kind of stuff that was seldom heard. My favorite track represents the easier side of 1970 Yes: the title track of the album is in my opinion a perfect pop song. The pinnacle of what the group had so far achieved. Emphasis placed on so far.

And this is where we need to take a short break. By now, there was so much high quality music around that it is no longer possible to go through a whole year's output in a single sitting. We have now covered January to July of 1970; next blog entry will cover August to December.

The birth of progressive rock

1969 marks the official year of birth for progressive rock. Three future greats all released their first studio albums: Genesis in March, Yes in July and King Crimson in October. Each release was more successful than the last. The Genesis debut From Genesis to Revelation, out on 7 March, was a totally forgettable collection of mediocre pop songs, significant only because of the group's later output. Yes showed more promise, even though their debut was hardly stunning either. King Crimson, on the other hand, made a classic on first attempt.
















The first three months of the year were a truly dry season. There was nothing to get excited about. It wasn't until 9 April that I found my first favorite song of the ongoing year. This happened when Bob Dylan released a new album called Nashville Skyline, which contained the dreamy, mellow ballad Lay Lady Lay. I enjoyed it immensely and it became my soundtrack for that spring, as there was little else on offer. (I even liked Ministry's cover version made nearly 30 years later.)

The next truly significant albums didn't come out until June, after I had already celebrated my sixth birthday. On the 13th, Pink Floyd released their first collection of songs intended for film soundtracks (9 August in the US). The album in question was Soundtrack from the Film 'More'. Most of the songs composed for Barbet Schroeder's film were not particularly impressive, but I could easily pick two instant favorites. Of them, Cymbaline seemed to be a fan favorite as well, because Pink Floyd kept it in their concert set list for at least two years afterwards. A great song in my opinion, as well.

However, it nearly pales in comparison with the masterpiece that opens the album. Cirrus Minor is the definitive film soundtrack song and it stands as the absolute number one on my list of Best Songs of the 1960's. The almost unbearably beautiful, pastoral track has no use for drums and completes its serene soundscape with bird sound effects. I was unable to find a satisfactory link to the song only, so above you can check out the entire album and as already mentioned, Cirrus Minor is its very first song. You can also check out Cymbaline there, it is track number six.

Also in June, Procol Harum finally made good on the promise of their first recordings. I would call their third album A Salty Dog an instant classic. While the masterful title track is probably the best known song from that album - perhaps even from the group's entire output - it is definitely not the only great track on the album. If you can, check out also the lovely Too Much Between Us as well as the memorable closing track Pilgrim's Progress. Below, you can check out the title track.

11 July saw the single release of Space Oddity by David Bowie. The new, rising talent was already a recording artist: his self title debut had come out on the same day with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in 1967. This was the first single release from his forthcoming second album, which would get its release on 4 November and carry the same title. At age six, I was fascinated with anything to do with space and listened to Bowie's masterful song in awe. The single release was in touch with the times: Apollo 11 was launched only five days later, and the first moon landing took place on the 20th.

25 July arrived, and the first album by future prog giants Yes was available in well equipped stores. The album was way better than the first effort by Genesis, but still, nothing special really. Slightly challenging art rock with some pop songs thrown in for good measure. On their next albums, the comparison between Genesis and Yes became much more interesting. We will return to that already the following year. My favorite track on this album is the B side opener Harold Land, but I guess I am in a minority here.

And then, summer was over. We were well on the way towards winter, when the next couple of interesting albums were released, actually on the exact same date. On 10 October, the one and only Frank Zappa released Hot Rats, whose opening instrumental Peaches en Regalia got me immediately hooked. It is probably one of, if not the best known track ever recorded by the immensely productive artist. The sudden style changes were a bit much on the first listen, but repeated attempts were rewarded.

The other album that came out on 10 October was of course In the Court of the Crimson King, by King Crimson. This was the album that finally launched the British prog invasion. Most people probably consider it the greatest prog album of the sixties, instead of The Piper at the Gates of Dawn that is my favorite. They may be right, but while Crimson King is an impressive piece of work, I always tend to doze off (or at least lose a significant amount of interest) when someone places nearly ten minutes of improvisation in the middle of an album whose total running time is under 45 minutes.

Yes, I have a problem with the latter part of Moonchild. Its opening The Dream is the most beautiful sequence on the entire album, but the overlong instrumental The Illusion is a bit boring - while I do admit that its inclusion on the album was a genuinely groundbreaking thing to do in the first place.

On 7 November, Pink Floyd released already a second album during the same year. The double vinyl Ummagumma contained one disc of live material and one of studio recordings composed, and I guess also mostly performed, solo by all members of the band. The live version of A Saucerful of Secrets truly kicks ass. Of the solo efforts, David Gilmour's The Narrow Way and particularly Richard Wright's incredible Sysyphus are masterpieces. You can listen to The Narrow Way below, and read more about Sysyphus here.

On 22 November, Fleetwood Mac became a household item by releasing their classic instrumental Albatross as a single. This was quite a pleasant way to start waiting for Christmas, and shortly after that, a new decade. Also, its peaceful melody gave me nice moments of welcome relaxation after listening to the more aggressive sequences of, say, Sysyphus.

And now, there is only one masterful song left to be mentioned, before we leave the sixties and enter seventies. South African born Manfred Mann became famous already at the time of my birth by leading a pop band that used his name and recorded drivel such as Do Wah Diddy Diddy. That group's recording career lasted from 1963 to 1969. After they split, Mann started gravitating towards jazz and prog, forming first Manfred Mann Chapter Three and still later, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.

Manfred Mann Chapter Three released only two albums in 1969 and 1970. The first one, released in November, contained one of the most astonishingly profound songs I had heard in my then young life. Where Am I Going? was not only a beautiful piece of songwriting. Its lyrics actually made you think. While I listened to the song, mesmerized, I also started to worry. "It's hard to be a man." It is? At age six and a half, I became a little nervous. And as I know now, it really is.

ALBUMS OF THE YEAR:
King Crimson: In the Court of the Crimson King
Procol Harum: A Salty Dog

UNMISSABLE TRACKS OF THE YEAR:
Pink Floyd: Cirrus Minor
Pink Floyd: Sysyphus
Procol Harum: A Salty Dog

1968

Apparently, the magnificient Some Velvet Morning by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood had been heard in an NBC television special already in December 1967. At age four and a half years, I never saw that, and more importantly, the song wasn't published as a recording until January 1968 when it appeared on Sinatra's album Movin' With Nancy. So, I'm going to classify it as a 1968 release and play it right here. And boy, was I amazed when I heard it on the album. Eerie and brilliant.

But otherwise, following the exemplary year 1967, this one was slightly disappointing. There was nothing that even closely matched the greatness of Pink Floyd's The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, or the best of the previous year's Beatles songs. Some Velvet Morning was great, yes, but not as great as those.

On 23 February, a rather obscure Welsh group called The Bystanders released a single called When Jezamine Goes. It was hardly a groundbreaking effort and wouldn't be mentioned here at all if there hadn't been a B side that was one of my favorite songs of the era. It was called Cave of Clear Light and I knew already then that the makers of this song were destined for greatness. Later, the group reformed to be known as Man, one of the bigger names of the early seventies. We will come back to their greatest masterpiece in due time. In the mean time, here is Cave of Clear Light.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. Syd Barrett's LSD habit grew too much to bear and even though he had been the figurehead of Pink Floyd until now, the rest of the group were forced to let him go. Barrett was replaced by guitar virtuoso David Gilmour who could also sing, but was by no means the leader that Barrett had been, which I suppose already sew the seeds to problems that would arise about a decade later.

But for now, a correction to the unbearable situation was achieved and the new Pink Floyd released a masterful new single on 12 April. Julia Dream was a new beginning in much the same way as Arnold Layne had been the original beginning 13 months earlier. Likewise, it was not to be included in the group's album release of the same year. But in this case, that choice is harder to understand: Arnold Layne was nothing special, while Julia Dream was one of the best songs Pink Floyd had recorded so far and definitely way better than anything the group decided to include on A Saucerful of Secrets, due to be released two and a half months later.

As is fitting, Barrett's replacement David Gilmour sings on the new single, signifying that a change has come. And yet, there is no change in quality. Pink Floyd was still alive, and as brilliant as ever. For some reason, embedding the video has been prevented, but this is the best version of the song: Julia Dream. The same version appeared on the 1971 bootleg compilation Relics.

11 May saw the release of Irishman Richard Harris's (1930 - 2002) debut album A Tramp Shining which contained the classic song McArthur Park. Often imitated, rerecorded and even parodied, its memorable tune and overall pathos left an indelible mark on me, who at the time lived in my family's second apartment in Kuopio and was only ten days away from my fifth birthday.

On 28 June, Pink Floyd's full album A Saucerful of Secrets was released. High expectation turned to mild disappointment, as they often do. While the album was a decent effort overall, it seemed to possess little of the greatness and originality of the Syd Barrett era. Let There Be More Light served as an excellent opener however, and the psychedelic title track was later developed into a kick-ass live version.

In September, it was Procol Harum's turn to release their second studio album Shine on Brightly and likewise it wasn't one of their greatest, but promising anyway. I was particularly interested in the 18-minute effort In Held 'twas in I, which served as an early indicator of things to come: prog and art rock bands were going to use an entire vinyl side for single composition. This phenomenon would later become commonplace.

On 16 September (25 October in the UK), the rising guitar hero Jimi Hendrix released his third and final album Electric Ladyland. It contained his cover of Bob Dylan's All Along the Watchtower, which we already mentioned when going through the releases of 1967. It was an instant classic and remains better known than the original. An electrifying, atmospheric song where the electric guitar is played with astonishing skill, it was one of my late autumn favorites of the year.

In October, the most prominent group of the seventies Canterbury scene, Caravan released their self titled debut album. They didn't sound quite as proggy as they would during the first half of the following decade, but I immediately paid attention to their obviously strong songwriting skills, as demonstrated by songs such as Place of My Own and Magic Man.

1968 was concluded on 22 November with The Beatles's self titled White Album, which was a disappointment to me. Why try to return to their roots and sound like they had during the first half of the decade, when the group members had already found their inner artistic true selves and discovered the joys of psychedelia?

That said, there were still a couple of enjoyable pieces on the album that nonetheless became my late year favorites. They were located on vinyl sides two and three, and were both written by Paul McCartney. Try to imagine a five and a half year old trying to sing the lovely Blackbird and your heart might melt. And perhaps even more so when it comes to the brilliant Mother Nature's Son which brings our current blog entry to its pleasant closing.

UNMISSABLE TRACK OF THE YEAR:
Pink Floyd: Julia Dream