Album: Garden Shed
Year: 1977
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 16 mins. 18 secs.
YouTube link (Part 1)
YouTube link (Part 2)
England is the ultimate fairy tale in progressive rock genre. They came from nowhere! They made one single great album! They disappeared! The album in question is Garden Shed (1977) and the fourth best progressive rock epic of all time is its closing track Poisoned Youth which doesn't quite fill an entire side of a vinyl disc, but clocks well over 16 minutes in any case.
England was: Robert Webb, keyboards and vocals; Martin Henderson, bass and vocals; Jode Leigh, percussion, bass and vocals; and Frank Holland, guitar and vocals. At around the time of their debut album's release, they were briefly the cause of some conspiracy theories. How can a new progressive rock group be so perfect on their first release? It was even suspected that they must in truth be seasoned prog veterans working under pseudonyms.
But no, they really were a new group that had simply been influenced by Genesis and Yes, and amalgamated these influences into an exceptional debut album. There was no conspiracy. And England's true masterstroke, Poisoned Youth was easily the best single progressive rock epic on a debut album of that whole decade. One of the best ever, as it turns out. Come on, it even ends to an explosion! What could be more epic than that?
A good comparison to England would be another group with a similar name: U.K (#14). In a very similar manner, England's prog is very keyboard-driven, although they never had Eddie Jobson's violin to complement the keyboards. Poisoned Youth, as well as their other songs, emphasize melody over other aspects of a composition, and as melody makers they were really, really good. The worst that can be said about England is that they were not very original, which is certainly true, but like I've written before, I absolutely prefer an artist that does the old thing exceptionally well to another that does a new thing with an average end result.
Poisoned Youth is comprised of several movements even though this is not stated on the album cover. Doesn't matter: there is hardly a single uninteresting moment as a debuting group displays endless invention, each individual sequence being at least worthy of the previous one, if not better. This makes you think that maybe England made a smart choice in completing only one album: it already was the one where their talents peaked. Any sequel to Garden Shed would inevitably have been a disappointment.
While the different passages of Poisoned Youth continue a single storyline about an artist's search to preserve and forever maintain his youth, they vary from each other. At times, the composition sounds even like a children's song. Its most striking weakness are the poor production values which are understandable for a starting rock group. Poisoned Youth is one of the weakest sounding tracks in the top 20 in terms of sound quality.
But it is Poisoned Youth's strong points that carry it all the way to #4. Poisoned Youth is a reminder to all beginning musicians that their first inspiration may already be enough to produce a masterwork, and an encouragement to try to reach for no less than that. If you know exactly what you are striving for and know how to achieve it, you can beat many a seasoned veteran in their own game. You don't have to have all the technical skill as long as you have a strong vision, and an endless need to invent, create and excel.
torstai 5. heinäkuuta 2012
keskiviikko 4. heinäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #5: A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers, by VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR
Album: Pawn Hearts
Year: 1971
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 23 mins. 8 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Formed in Manchester, England in 1967, Van der Graaf Generator has always been personified by its leader, poet and singer (in this order) Peter Hammill, who is also the only founding member to have stayed in the group for more than a year or two. The other key members are Hugh Banton, organ and bass guitar; Guy Evans, drums; and David Jackson, saxophone and flute.
This lineup was already in place on the group's second album The Least We Can Do is Wave to Each Other (1970), although at that time there was also a fifth member, Nic Potter who played bass while Banton fully concentrated on his organ. Potter left, and the four-member dream team recorded H to He, Who Am the Only One (also 1970) which already gave a clear indication that something great was going to come out of this group.
Still, nothing really prepared audiences for the powerhouse fourth album Pawn Hearts (1971), which was a stunning achievement in symphonic prog, and a couple of steps more challenging than your average Yes or Genesis albums.The first classic on the album is its opening track, about 10-minute Lemmings, but the real goldmine is to be found on the vinyl's B side: A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers, a 23-minute masterpiece in several movements, playing styles and time signatures.
Van der Graaf Generator was always more alienating than "regular" symphonic prog groups to your average listener because of its choice of instrumentation. There was really no lead guitarist, although Hammill did play guitar occasionally. Also, there were really no other keyboards than Banton's trusty organ. This left us with Hammill's raw, throaty voice (when it came to singing, the man was no Jon Anderson) combined with drums, organ and Jackson's saxophone playing where lead guitar would normally play. The end result was truly in a league of its own. Saxophone gave Van der Graaf Generator a jazzy sound texture by itself, and it was emphasized by their obvious jazz influences, especially when it came to the use of constantly changing rhythm patterns.
A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers is a masterpiece that exemplifies everything that was always great about Van der Graaf Generator. It begins with an easy, beautiful section called Eyewitness which invites the listener into believing that he or she is about to hear a "normal" symphonic prog composition. This is followed by an excellent, quiet instrumental sequence which reproduces a coastal soundscape with the use of musical instruments: Jackson's saxophone sounds like a foghorn, Evans' percussion imitates a ship's motor starting to run, wind instruments are used for the sound of seagulls, etc.
Things get progressively more complex as tempo intensifies and Hammill's voice develops from quiet and peaceful to noisy and aggressive. Instrumentation intensifies, and time signatures start to vary. The plot really thickens in sections The Clot Thickens and Land's End, where you can hear influences from free jazz and where you need a Doctor's degree in music to be able to determine the time signatures - which themselves keep changing during the track!
Close to the end, the music gradually descends into total cacophony, and it is therefore a big relief to the listener when the last section We Go Now begins with a beautiful piano melody and Hammill's singing is once again more restrained and melodic. This brings the unforgettable piece to a moving climax.
It was fairly obvious that after accomplishing something like this, Van der Graaf Generator had nowhere left to go. How could you top something like Pawn Hearts, and more specifically, the 23-minute masterpiece that closed it? To solve this problem, Hammill decided to leave the group in order to fully concentrate on his solo career.
The departure took place on amicable terms, so when Hammill decided to give another try to working as a member of Van der Graaf Generator, there was no problem with rejoining. Hammill, Banton, Jackson and Evans returned to the studio only to emerge with another, albeit very different, masterwork called Godbluff (1975). Their story continues to this very day, although there have been again long periods of silence, and David Jackson is no longer part of the group that released their very latest recording less than two weeks ago.
Year: 1971
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 23 mins. 8 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Formed in Manchester, England in 1967, Van der Graaf Generator has always been personified by its leader, poet and singer (in this order) Peter Hammill, who is also the only founding member to have stayed in the group for more than a year or two. The other key members are Hugh Banton, organ and bass guitar; Guy Evans, drums; and David Jackson, saxophone and flute.
This lineup was already in place on the group's second album The Least We Can Do is Wave to Each Other (1970), although at that time there was also a fifth member, Nic Potter who played bass while Banton fully concentrated on his organ. Potter left, and the four-member dream team recorded H to He, Who Am the Only One (also 1970) which already gave a clear indication that something great was going to come out of this group.
Still, nothing really prepared audiences for the powerhouse fourth album Pawn Hearts (1971), which was a stunning achievement in symphonic prog, and a couple of steps more challenging than your average Yes or Genesis albums.The first classic on the album is its opening track, about 10-minute Lemmings, but the real goldmine is to be found on the vinyl's B side: A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers, a 23-minute masterpiece in several movements, playing styles and time signatures.
Van der Graaf Generator was always more alienating than "regular" symphonic prog groups to your average listener because of its choice of instrumentation. There was really no lead guitarist, although Hammill did play guitar occasionally. Also, there were really no other keyboards than Banton's trusty organ. This left us with Hammill's raw, throaty voice (when it came to singing, the man was no Jon Anderson) combined with drums, organ and Jackson's saxophone playing where lead guitar would normally play. The end result was truly in a league of its own. Saxophone gave Van der Graaf Generator a jazzy sound texture by itself, and it was emphasized by their obvious jazz influences, especially when it came to the use of constantly changing rhythm patterns.
A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers is a masterpiece that exemplifies everything that was always great about Van der Graaf Generator. It begins with an easy, beautiful section called Eyewitness which invites the listener into believing that he or she is about to hear a "normal" symphonic prog composition. This is followed by an excellent, quiet instrumental sequence which reproduces a coastal soundscape with the use of musical instruments: Jackson's saxophone sounds like a foghorn, Evans' percussion imitates a ship's motor starting to run, wind instruments are used for the sound of seagulls, etc.
Things get progressively more complex as tempo intensifies and Hammill's voice develops from quiet and peaceful to noisy and aggressive. Instrumentation intensifies, and time signatures start to vary. The plot really thickens in sections The Clot Thickens and Land's End, where you can hear influences from free jazz and where you need a Doctor's degree in music to be able to determine the time signatures - which themselves keep changing during the track!
Close to the end, the music gradually descends into total cacophony, and it is therefore a big relief to the listener when the last section We Go Now begins with a beautiful piano melody and Hammill's singing is once again more restrained and melodic. This brings the unforgettable piece to a moving climax.
It was fairly obvious that after accomplishing something like this, Van der Graaf Generator had nowhere left to go. How could you top something like Pawn Hearts, and more specifically, the 23-minute masterpiece that closed it? To solve this problem, Hammill decided to leave the group in order to fully concentrate on his solo career.
The departure took place on amicable terms, so when Hammill decided to give another try to working as a member of Van der Graaf Generator, there was no problem with rejoining. Hammill, Banton, Jackson and Evans returned to the studio only to emerge with another, albeit very different, masterwork called Godbluff (1975). Their story continues to this very day, although there have been again long periods of silence, and David Jackson is no longer part of the group that released their very latest recording less than two weeks ago.
maanantai 2. heinäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #6: Close to the Edge, by YES
Album: Close to the Edge
Year: 1972
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 18 mins. 40 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Had this top 20 been voted for by a large number of prog fans instead of only myself, I believe the most likely #1 would have been one of two alternatives. One of them is Close to the Edge, by Yes, which I have dared to place sixth. I think it would have been the less likely winner in a general poll as well. The more likely poll winner, then... we'll come back to it a little higher on the list, so please be patient. But if you are an enlightened progressive rock fan, you can probably guess which song by which artist or group I am referring to.
The fourth and fifth studio album by Yes, both released in 1972, seem to be widely considered their greatest works. The earlier one, Fragile is a collection of shorter songs, although it is concluded with Heart of the Sunrise which is over ten minutes long. Close to the Edge, on the other hand, employs solely the longer format. Side A of the vinyl release contains the nearly 19-minute title track, and side B has two approximately 10-minute songs - much the same way as Relayer (1974) did later on.
Once again, a progressive composition ends the same way it began: in this case, with sound effects from nature. We hear a river running and birds singing. This sets up a special, peaceful and lyrical mood for the song itself. According to singer Jon Anderson, Close to the Edge the song is based on the book Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse and is about spiritual awakening.
Composition-wise, Close to the Edge is close to perfection. Yes is working at the peak of their talents and can both create unforgettable melodies and also play them in virtuoso fashion in spite of the complicatedness of some of its passages. Yet the group's perfection doesn't seem sterile or alienating to the listener. Like on Fragile, Yes is still a rock band at heart and Close to the Edge sounds like most of it could be played in a club in front of a cheering crowd.
The most important exception to this is Rick Wakeman's church organ that would feel out of place in a club. About two thirds of the composition in, he performs probably the most memorable organ sequence in any Yes album. Wakeman's keyboards have an exceptionally strong presence on this track in particular.
This turned out the be the last album with the five key members present. The people who belonged to this dream team were, in addition to Anderson and Wakeman, guitarist Steve Howe, bass guitarist Chris Squire and drummer Bill Bruford. Soon after completing Close to the Edge, Bruford left the group to join King Crimson (see #10). Following the next studio album Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973), Wakeman left as well.
Close to the Edge remains a towering achievement and pinnacle of the Bruford-era Yes, showing for once what amazing results a progressive rock group can achieve at the height of their creativity. The album has enjoyed immense popularity among prog fans and many select it to be the best prog album ever made. This is in no small measure due to its title track. Here you can find one such poll, where Close to the Edge the album is holding the first place at the time of this writing: ProgArchives Top Prog Albums
Year: 1972
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 18 mins. 40 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Had this top 20 been voted for by a large number of prog fans instead of only myself, I believe the most likely #1 would have been one of two alternatives. One of them is Close to the Edge, by Yes, which I have dared to place sixth. I think it would have been the less likely winner in a general poll as well. The more likely poll winner, then... we'll come back to it a little higher on the list, so please be patient. But if you are an enlightened progressive rock fan, you can probably guess which song by which artist or group I am referring to.
The fourth and fifth studio album by Yes, both released in 1972, seem to be widely considered their greatest works. The earlier one, Fragile is a collection of shorter songs, although it is concluded with Heart of the Sunrise which is over ten minutes long. Close to the Edge, on the other hand, employs solely the longer format. Side A of the vinyl release contains the nearly 19-minute title track, and side B has two approximately 10-minute songs - much the same way as Relayer (1974) did later on.
Once again, a progressive composition ends the same way it began: in this case, with sound effects from nature. We hear a river running and birds singing. This sets up a special, peaceful and lyrical mood for the song itself. According to singer Jon Anderson, Close to the Edge the song is based on the book Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse and is about spiritual awakening.
Composition-wise, Close to the Edge is close to perfection. Yes is working at the peak of their talents and can both create unforgettable melodies and also play them in virtuoso fashion in spite of the complicatedness of some of its passages. Yet the group's perfection doesn't seem sterile or alienating to the listener. Like on Fragile, Yes is still a rock band at heart and Close to the Edge sounds like most of it could be played in a club in front of a cheering crowd.
The most important exception to this is Rick Wakeman's church organ that would feel out of place in a club. About two thirds of the composition in, he performs probably the most memorable organ sequence in any Yes album. Wakeman's keyboards have an exceptionally strong presence on this track in particular.
This turned out the be the last album with the five key members present. The people who belonged to this dream team were, in addition to Anderson and Wakeman, guitarist Steve Howe, bass guitarist Chris Squire and drummer Bill Bruford. Soon after completing Close to the Edge, Bruford left the group to join King Crimson (see #10). Following the next studio album Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973), Wakeman left as well.
Close to the Edge remains a towering achievement and pinnacle of the Bruford-era Yes, showing for once what amazing results a progressive rock group can achieve at the height of their creativity. The album has enjoyed immense popularity among prog fans and many select it to be the best prog album ever made. This is in no small measure due to its title track. Here you can find one such poll, where Close to the Edge the album is holding the first place at the time of this writing: ProgArchives Top Prog Albums
sunnuntai 1. heinäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #7: Lizard, by KING CRIMSON
Album: Lizard
Year: 1970
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 23 mins. 17 secs.
YouTube link
I guess I belong to a small minority. The third album by King Crimson has always been my favourite. Lizard was recorded by a short-lived incarnation of the group that never even had time to perform live, before Robert Fripp once again made significant personnel changes. This is the only album to feature Gordon Haskell as the singer, and maybe more importantly, the only album where the group's music was about 50 % jazz and only 50 % prog. Strange then, that I should like this album, having never been a fan of jazz.
Lizard also contains the longest non-improvised song ever recorded by King Crimson. The song in question is the 23-minute title track which is also the subject of this article. It fills the entire B side of the vinyl version. I have never understood why its title is Lizard. There is a distinct storyline that is told not only by lyrics but also, crucially by music itself (we'll get to that in a bit), and it has nothing to do with tiny, cute reptiles. Instead, it tells a medieval tale of a prince, and his last battle.
Before we get into the song and the story it tells, let's have a quick look at the cover art. Lizard has one of the most beautifully crafted album covers I have ever seen. Above, you can see the front cover, which spells "Crimson", with small drawings under and around each letter. The reason for it spelling only "Crimson" is that the back cover spells "King" in a similar fashion. Here's how the cover looks when opened; this applies to both the vinyl album and CD covers:
Under the letter M, you can see our hero Prince Rupert, on his brown horse, riding alongside Death whose horse is white. On the back cover, under the big K, you can see Prince Rupert's last battle getting started. The pictures under the other letters also refer to songs on the album. And now, on to Lizard.
The first movement, Prince Rupert Awakes, is a pretty song with a catching melody. It is sung by a guest star: Jon Anderson of Yes. The second movement, Bolero is an instrumental piece that is comprised of jazzy variations on a theme which are interesting but not really great. The greatness of the track is revealed following the conclusion of Bolero.
The third movement, The Battle of Glass Tears, describes Prince Rupert's last battle in three subsections. First, we get an astonishing, very ominous introduction by guest musician Robin Miller who plays cor anglais at a low volume. Next, Gordon Haskell gives his only vocal performance on this track, describing the preparations of the battle. And that's it for the lyrics. The story of the battle itself and its aftermath is told to the listener using musical instruments only, wherein lies the true genius of Lizard.
The second subsection is a rather noisy and extremely restless instrumental that describes a bloody battle in, once again, a jazz influenced instrumentation and playing style. This is followed by the last subsection where King Crimson's genius really shines. Backed by a slow percussion theme reminiscent of a funeral procession, Fripp makes his electric guitar wail, implying that Prince Rupert has been mortally wounded and is fighting a losing battle for his life. This is more or less confirmed by the title of this subsection, which is Prince Rupert's Lament.
That part alone was more than enough to leave the listener speechless, but there is still more to follow. This is the point where I have to stop trying to tell what happens. The final 65 seconds of Lizard are beyond my ability to describe. Suffice to say that King Crimson finds a way to picture not only a person's death, but also possibly an afterlife of some kind, without a word spoken or sung, simply by means of music. Every time I hear the finale of Lizard, I am in awe. So should everyone.
Year: 1970
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 23 mins. 17 secs.
YouTube link
I guess I belong to a small minority. The third album by King Crimson has always been my favourite. Lizard was recorded by a short-lived incarnation of the group that never even had time to perform live, before Robert Fripp once again made significant personnel changes. This is the only album to feature Gordon Haskell as the singer, and maybe more importantly, the only album where the group's music was about 50 % jazz and only 50 % prog. Strange then, that I should like this album, having never been a fan of jazz.
Lizard also contains the longest non-improvised song ever recorded by King Crimson. The song in question is the 23-minute title track which is also the subject of this article. It fills the entire B side of the vinyl version. I have never understood why its title is Lizard. There is a distinct storyline that is told not only by lyrics but also, crucially by music itself (we'll get to that in a bit), and it has nothing to do with tiny, cute reptiles. Instead, it tells a medieval tale of a prince, and his last battle.
Before we get into the song and the story it tells, let's have a quick look at the cover art. Lizard has one of the most beautifully crafted album covers I have ever seen. Above, you can see the front cover, which spells "Crimson", with small drawings under and around each letter. The reason for it spelling only "Crimson" is that the back cover spells "King" in a similar fashion. Here's how the cover looks when opened; this applies to both the vinyl album and CD covers:
Under the letter M, you can see our hero Prince Rupert, on his brown horse, riding alongside Death whose horse is white. On the back cover, under the big K, you can see Prince Rupert's last battle getting started. The pictures under the other letters also refer to songs on the album. And now, on to Lizard.
The first movement, Prince Rupert Awakes, is a pretty song with a catching melody. It is sung by a guest star: Jon Anderson of Yes. The second movement, Bolero is an instrumental piece that is comprised of jazzy variations on a theme which are interesting but not really great. The greatness of the track is revealed following the conclusion of Bolero.
The third movement, The Battle of Glass Tears, describes Prince Rupert's last battle in three subsections. First, we get an astonishing, very ominous introduction by guest musician Robin Miller who plays cor anglais at a low volume. Next, Gordon Haskell gives his only vocal performance on this track, describing the preparations of the battle. And that's it for the lyrics. The story of the battle itself and its aftermath is told to the listener using musical instruments only, wherein lies the true genius of Lizard.
The second subsection is a rather noisy and extremely restless instrumental that describes a bloody battle in, once again, a jazz influenced instrumentation and playing style. This is followed by the last subsection where King Crimson's genius really shines. Backed by a slow percussion theme reminiscent of a funeral procession, Fripp makes his electric guitar wail, implying that Prince Rupert has been mortally wounded and is fighting a losing battle for his life. This is more or less confirmed by the title of this subsection, which is Prince Rupert's Lament.
That part alone was more than enough to leave the listener speechless, but there is still more to follow. This is the point where I have to stop trying to tell what happens. The final 65 seconds of Lizard are beyond my ability to describe. Suffice to say that King Crimson finds a way to picture not only a person's death, but also possibly an afterlife of some kind, without a word spoken or sung, simply by means of music. Every time I hear the finale of Lizard, I am in awe. So should everyone.
lauantai 30. kesäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #8: Mei, by ECHOLYN
Album: Mei
Year: 2002
Country: USA
Running time: 49 mins. 33 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link (live version with mono audio)
Mei, by the Pennsylvanian symphonic prog group Echolyn is the longest track in the top 20. It runs nearly 50 minutes uninterrupted. You actually need to make a calendar reservation for yourself to be able to listen to the entire track, beginning to end, in one sitting.
This would most likely have made certain prog artists from the 1970's envious. Think about the effort that Jethro Tull had to go through to make A Passion Play (#17) at least appear to be a single, continuous song. In the vinyl era, Mei would have just fit into a single vinyl disc, using both sides, and cutting it mercilessly in half at some point around 25 minutes which might not even be a suitable place for a pause, for flipping the record over.
Usually, magnum opuses of this size are ambient compositions where the track is easily expanded by sustaining individual soundscapes for longer periods. It wasn't all that hard for Brian Eno to fill an entire CD with his 60-minute Thursday Afternoon since it didn't change all too much during that whole time. But this is not the case with Echolyn. Mei is a continuous song that evolves its entire running time, and contains no extended ambient passages.
Mei is the story of a man driving in his car and reflecting on his life, possibly because of a crisis of some kind that he has encountered. The group have described the track as "a combination of Jack Kerouac's On the Road and Dante Alighieri's Inferno" as well as a love song "with love as something intangible and yet all encompassing, fragile, and yet eternal" ... "but a backdrop of darkness forever surrounds this love".
The opening of Mei is infinitely beautiful. First, vibraphone enters the soundscape played at a very, very low volume (not so low in the YouTube clip above) that is barely audible. Second, the strings join in with a sad melody that sounds slightly like quiet weeping. Next up is flute, then piano, and then finally the actual song begins. During its running time, it can mostly be classified as mellow rock, although there are some hard rocking passages as well.
One amusing thing is that Mei has even a chorus which we first hear twice between 5 and 8 minutes. Then it appears again... over half an hour later, at the 43-minute point! It is very likely a unique composition in this sense: there are some remnants of a regular song structure, but they have been twisted almost beyond recognition. Most of the individual sequences are played in succession but not repeated. And then, finally, in the very end the quiet vibraphone opening of the song is also used as its closing, bringing back memories from 49 minutes in the past.
Echolyn has made some other good albums as well, in particular As the World (1995) but none of them are so consistently masterful as Mei. Their most recent release is really very, very recent: their brand new, self-titled album Echolyn has just been released this June. Judging from the short samples I have heard so far, Echolyn has done some excellent work.
Echolyn is the group's first studio album release in seven years, since The End is Beautiful (2005). Its title is a little strange choice, considering that their debut album from 1991 was also called simply Echolyn. Some confusion between these two is to be expected.
Year: 2002
Country: USA
Running time: 49 mins. 33 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link (live version with mono audio)
Mei, by the Pennsylvanian symphonic prog group Echolyn is the longest track in the top 20. It runs nearly 50 minutes uninterrupted. You actually need to make a calendar reservation for yourself to be able to listen to the entire track, beginning to end, in one sitting.
This would most likely have made certain prog artists from the 1970's envious. Think about the effort that Jethro Tull had to go through to make A Passion Play (#17) at least appear to be a single, continuous song. In the vinyl era, Mei would have just fit into a single vinyl disc, using both sides, and cutting it mercilessly in half at some point around 25 minutes which might not even be a suitable place for a pause, for flipping the record over.
Usually, magnum opuses of this size are ambient compositions where the track is easily expanded by sustaining individual soundscapes for longer periods. It wasn't all that hard for Brian Eno to fill an entire CD with his 60-minute Thursday Afternoon since it didn't change all too much during that whole time. But this is not the case with Echolyn. Mei is a continuous song that evolves its entire running time, and contains no extended ambient passages.
Mei is the story of a man driving in his car and reflecting on his life, possibly because of a crisis of some kind that he has encountered. The group have described the track as "a combination of Jack Kerouac's On the Road and Dante Alighieri's Inferno" as well as a love song "with love as something intangible and yet all encompassing, fragile, and yet eternal" ... "but a backdrop of darkness forever surrounds this love".
The opening of Mei is infinitely beautiful. First, vibraphone enters the soundscape played at a very, very low volume (not so low in the YouTube clip above) that is barely audible. Second, the strings join in with a sad melody that sounds slightly like quiet weeping. Next up is flute, then piano, and then finally the actual song begins. During its running time, it can mostly be classified as mellow rock, although there are some hard rocking passages as well.
One amusing thing is that Mei has even a chorus which we first hear twice between 5 and 8 minutes. Then it appears again... over half an hour later, at the 43-minute point! It is very likely a unique composition in this sense: there are some remnants of a regular song structure, but they have been twisted almost beyond recognition. Most of the individual sequences are played in succession but not repeated. And then, finally, in the very end the quiet vibraphone opening of the song is also used as its closing, bringing back memories from 49 minutes in the past.
Echolyn has made some other good albums as well, in particular As the World (1995) but none of them are so consistently masterful as Mei. Their most recent release is really very, very recent: their brand new, self-titled album Echolyn has just been released this June. Judging from the short samples I have heard so far, Echolyn has done some excellent work.
Echolyn is the group's first studio album release in seven years, since The End is Beautiful (2005). Its title is a little strange choice, considering that their debut album from 1991 was also called simply Echolyn. Some confusion between these two is to be expected.
perjantai 29. kesäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #9: The Gates of Delirium, by YES
Album: Relayer
Year: 1974
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 21 mins. 55 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Yes, that is finally making its debut on this list, is one of, if not the most important group in the entire history of progressive rock. Formed in 1968, they released their debut album in August 1969, and are still sort of alive, having released Fly From Here (2011) last July - possibly their weakest studio album ever. Yes is also responsible for the despicable single hit Owner of a Lonely Heart (1983) which is probably the song that the audience at large best remembers them for.
Their real musical career was way more ambitious than said oversimple radio hit. This is especially true for Relayer (1974) which is almost certainly their weirdest, most challenging and way, way out there recording. If you'd like to have an easy introduction to progressive rock, do not start here. Side A of the vinyl release is filled by the song that is our current subject of discussion. Side B has two shorter tracks which clock just under ten minutes each. The latter of them, To Be Over, sounds almost like normal music when compared to the previous two.
According to the legend, the A Side filler The Gates of Delirium was inspired by the mammoth novel War and Peace by the Russian master writer Leo Tolstoy. As such, it is almost certainly the most outlandish and surreal anti-war song ever recorded. Its desperate and aggressive attitude may have been partially influenced by the recent disappointing departure of one of the group's then most important members Rick Wakeman, who had left to completely concentrate on his solo career. But I guess more likely this was just something that happened to be on the table at the time.
Printed on the inside of the LP cover is a pretty picture of the group, now featuring new Swiss keyboardist Patrick Moraz: a bunch of long haired hippies sitting meditatively on a piece of grassland and looking ever so peaceful. The Gates of Delirium is the absolute contradiction to this picture: restless, almost senseless, noisy and at times intentionally ugly. We get to the point right from the start. The introductory instrumental sequence already begins in the hallucinatory, aggression-at-the-existence-of-war mode, and when the lyrics kick in, they are precisely as incomprehensible as is contextually fitting:
Wars that shout in screams of anguish
Power spent passion bespoils our soul receiver
Surely we know
In glory we rise to offer
Create our freedom
A word we utter
A word
The rest of the song makes absolutely no more sense, although the anti-war stance is fairly obvious. When the band starts "pounding out the Devil's sermon" we are treated to easily the most chaotic instrumental sequence ever created by Yes. Not only is the music truly intense by itself. There are now also added sound effects that describe war, such as explosions and gunfire. These are not actual sounds, but rather their reproductions with musical instruments. During this sequence Chris Squire plays the hell out of his bass guitar, pay attention.
After the instrumental sequence has reached a truly insane climax, with astonishing work by drummer Alan White, Yes finally concludes their lengthy song with an extended peaceful sequence that hopes there would be no more war. This part of the track got, strange as it may sound, a single release under the title Soon. I have always wondered if those who purchased that single ever realised what an incredible musical chaos preceded it on the original recording.
For myself, The Gates of Delirium brings fond memories. Relayer was the first album I purchased after I finally got my very first turntable, a couple of months before turning sixteen, in the early spring of 1979. Such pounding I took at such a tender age.
Perhaps the strangest piece of information about Relayer is that it was a commercial hit in its time. Released in November 1974, it hit the album charts on both sides of the Atlantic, peaked at #4 in the U.K. and at #5 in the U.S. Words fail. This is incredible considering the anti-commercial content of the album. The music buying public was so enlightened then, as opposed to what they appear to be today.
Year: 1974
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 21 mins. 55 secs.
Spotify link
YouTube link
Yes, that is finally making its debut on this list, is one of, if not the most important group in the entire history of progressive rock. Formed in 1968, they released their debut album in August 1969, and are still sort of alive, having released Fly From Here (2011) last July - possibly their weakest studio album ever. Yes is also responsible for the despicable single hit Owner of a Lonely Heart (1983) which is probably the song that the audience at large best remembers them for.
Their real musical career was way more ambitious than said oversimple radio hit. This is especially true for Relayer (1974) which is almost certainly their weirdest, most challenging and way, way out there recording. If you'd like to have an easy introduction to progressive rock, do not start here. Side A of the vinyl release is filled by the song that is our current subject of discussion. Side B has two shorter tracks which clock just under ten minutes each. The latter of them, To Be Over, sounds almost like normal music when compared to the previous two.
According to the legend, the A Side filler The Gates of Delirium was inspired by the mammoth novel War and Peace by the Russian master writer Leo Tolstoy. As such, it is almost certainly the most outlandish and surreal anti-war song ever recorded. Its desperate and aggressive attitude may have been partially influenced by the recent disappointing departure of one of the group's then most important members Rick Wakeman, who had left to completely concentrate on his solo career. But I guess more likely this was just something that happened to be on the table at the time.
Printed on the inside of the LP cover is a pretty picture of the group, now featuring new Swiss keyboardist Patrick Moraz: a bunch of long haired hippies sitting meditatively on a piece of grassland and looking ever so peaceful. The Gates of Delirium is the absolute contradiction to this picture: restless, almost senseless, noisy and at times intentionally ugly. We get to the point right from the start. The introductory instrumental sequence already begins in the hallucinatory, aggression-at-the-existence-of-war mode, and when the lyrics kick in, they are precisely as incomprehensible as is contextually fitting:
Wars that shout in screams of anguish
Power spent passion bespoils our soul receiver
Surely we know
In glory we rise to offer
Create our freedom
A word we utter
A word
The rest of the song makes absolutely no more sense, although the anti-war stance is fairly obvious. When the band starts "pounding out the Devil's sermon" we are treated to easily the most chaotic instrumental sequence ever created by Yes. Not only is the music truly intense by itself. There are now also added sound effects that describe war, such as explosions and gunfire. These are not actual sounds, but rather their reproductions with musical instruments. During this sequence Chris Squire plays the hell out of his bass guitar, pay attention.
After the instrumental sequence has reached a truly insane climax, with astonishing work by drummer Alan White, Yes finally concludes their lengthy song with an extended peaceful sequence that hopes there would be no more war. This part of the track got, strange as it may sound, a single release under the title Soon. I have always wondered if those who purchased that single ever realised what an incredible musical chaos preceded it on the original recording.
For myself, The Gates of Delirium brings fond memories. Relayer was the first album I purchased after I finally got my very first turntable, a couple of months before turning sixteen, in the early spring of 1979. Such pounding I took at such a tender age.
Perhaps the strangest piece of information about Relayer is that it was a commercial hit in its time. Released in November 1974, it hit the album charts on both sides of the Atlantic, peaked at #4 in the U.K. and at #5 in the U.S. Words fail. This is incredible considering the anti-commercial content of the album. The music buying public was so enlightened then, as opposed to what they appear to be today.
torstai 28. kesäkuuta 2012
Top 20 Long Prog Masterpieces #10: Larks' Tongues in Aspic (Part 1), by KING CRIMSON
Album: Larks' Tongues in Aspic
Year: 1973
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 13 mins. 39 secs.
YouTube link 1 (good sound quality, but ends abruptly at 7 mins. 43 secs.)
YouTube link 2 (poor sound quality, full track)
We are now taking a giant leap ahead. While I don't want to look down on the tracks that took places #11 through #20, it is the top 10 that really blows my mind. They are the greatest of the great, that make one wonder how mere humans can pull something like them off. All of the songs in the top 20 are outstanding, but the top 10 are the true pinnacles.
Let me put it this way. Tracks #11 to #20 are exemplary achievements that all of mankind should hear, to learn what marvellous results can be achieved through musical genius. On top of the same, tracks #1 to #10 should also be launched into space to astound the rest of the universe, and hopefully to be preserved for eternity, as mankind's unending legacy.
This somewhat modest introduction brings us, finally, to King Crimson. Between 1969 and 1972, this legendary progressive rock group led by Robert Fripp had released four studio albums and one live album. Their debut In the Court of the Crimson King (1969) had become an instant classic, and others also contained some greatness, although were more uneven.
At this point, in mid-1972, Fripp suddenly decided to start over again by letting go all the personnel except himself and hiring new people to take their place. This decision might have been influenced by the latest studio album Islands (1971) that had been noticeably weaker than the previous recordings, although even it had included at least one true masterwork, the instrumental Sailor's Tale.
The resulting new incarnation of King Crimson released three studio albums during 1973 and 1974. Larks' Tongues in Aspic was the first one of them. On these albums, the group sounded considerably different than before. John Wetton (also of U.K, see #14) was the new singer and bass guitarist. Bill Bruford (also of Yes, more about them a little later) was the new drummer. To begin with, there were other official members such as violinist David Cross and percussionist Jamie Muir, but by the time Red (1974) came out, even the album cover displayed only Fripp, Wetton and Bruford.
Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part 1 is the opening track of the new album, and achieves its greatness via rather unorthodox means - for a rock group, anyway. The entire masterpiece is instrumental, and its dynamic range is really wide. It opens with a very, very quiet theme played by Muir, then gradually expands into a very loud heavy metal theme. There is no recognizable song structure, instead we move from one challenging theme to another. Occasionally, it is David Cross who plays a slow violin sequence by himself. Next moment, Fripp's guitar arrives to the front with explosive thunder. Changes are sometimes sudden.
It is difficult to compare Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part 1 to virtually anything else in rock. This incarnation of King Crimson used a lot of improvisation as a means of creating music, and while Part 1 is not improvised, it has a similar spontaneous feel to it. The end result may owe a lot to the free music scene of the time. Within the field of progressive rock, it is an awe-inspiring masterwork that remains endlessly enigmatic every time you listen to it.
A couple of words about the subsequent parts of Larks' Tongues in Aspic. Part 2 concludes this same album, and is much closer to regular rock music. An interesting side note: a couple of years ago Dream Theater released a cover version of Part 2 that is in some ways better than the original. DT's playing is much more disciplined than KC's, with every single note in place at 100th part of a second's precision.
Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part III can be found on the album Three of a Perfect Pair (1984), and is completely forgettable.
Not so with Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part IV. It resides on The ConstruKction of Light (2000) and is arguably at least Part 1's equal. I would so much have loved to be able to include it on this list, but couldn't find a way to make it eligible. Again an instrumental, it is divided into three separate tracks on the CD, making inclusion slightly questionable already - it has indeed three movements that are a little different. This alone wouldn't have stopped me, but the next challenge is that its total running time is only 11 mins. 18 secs.
The deciding factor is that Part IV isn't really a complete track without its epilogue, Coda: I Have a Dream, which is the next track on the album. All three movements of Part IV and Coda form one single continuous track on the album, without any breaks. Also, this combination would be long enough to be eligible. But it has two different titles, so I decided not to include it in the top 20.
Anyway, be sure to check Larks' Tongues in Aspic Part IV / Coda: I Have a Dream out. It is a stunning musical achievement, although not an easy one.
Year: 1973
Country: United Kingdom
Running time: 13 mins. 39 secs.
YouTube link 1 (good sound quality, but ends abruptly at 7 mins. 43 secs.)
YouTube link 2 (poor sound quality, full track)
We are now taking a giant leap ahead. While I don't want to look down on the tracks that took places #11 through #20, it is the top 10 that really blows my mind. They are the greatest of the great, that make one wonder how mere humans can pull something like them off. All of the songs in the top 20 are outstanding, but the top 10 are the true pinnacles.
Let me put it this way. Tracks #11 to #20 are exemplary achievements that all of mankind should hear, to learn what marvellous results can be achieved through musical genius. On top of the same, tracks #1 to #10 should also be launched into space to astound the rest of the universe, and hopefully to be preserved for eternity, as mankind's unending legacy.
This somewhat modest introduction brings us, finally, to King Crimson. Between 1969 and 1972, this legendary progressive rock group led by Robert Fripp had released four studio albums and one live album. Their debut In the Court of the Crimson King (1969) had become an instant classic, and others also contained some greatness, although were more uneven.
At this point, in mid-1972, Fripp suddenly decided to start over again by letting go all the personnel except himself and hiring new people to take their place. This decision might have been influenced by the latest studio album Islands (1971) that had been noticeably weaker than the previous recordings, although even it had included at least one true masterwork, the instrumental Sailor's Tale.
The resulting new incarnation of King Crimson released three studio albums during 1973 and 1974. Larks' Tongues in Aspic was the first one of them. On these albums, the group sounded considerably different than before. John Wetton (also of U.K, see #14) was the new singer and bass guitarist. Bill Bruford (also of Yes, more about them a little later) was the new drummer. To begin with, there were other official members such as violinist David Cross and percussionist Jamie Muir, but by the time Red (1974) came out, even the album cover displayed only Fripp, Wetton and Bruford.
Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part 1 is the opening track of the new album, and achieves its greatness via rather unorthodox means - for a rock group, anyway. The entire masterpiece is instrumental, and its dynamic range is really wide. It opens with a very, very quiet theme played by Muir, then gradually expands into a very loud heavy metal theme. There is no recognizable song structure, instead we move from one challenging theme to another. Occasionally, it is David Cross who plays a slow violin sequence by himself. Next moment, Fripp's guitar arrives to the front with explosive thunder. Changes are sometimes sudden.
It is difficult to compare Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part 1 to virtually anything else in rock. This incarnation of King Crimson used a lot of improvisation as a means of creating music, and while Part 1 is not improvised, it has a similar spontaneous feel to it. The end result may owe a lot to the free music scene of the time. Within the field of progressive rock, it is an awe-inspiring masterwork that remains endlessly enigmatic every time you listen to it.
A couple of words about the subsequent parts of Larks' Tongues in Aspic. Part 2 concludes this same album, and is much closer to regular rock music. An interesting side note: a couple of years ago Dream Theater released a cover version of Part 2 that is in some ways better than the original. DT's playing is much more disciplined than KC's, with every single note in place at 100th part of a second's precision.
Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part III can be found on the album Three of a Perfect Pair (1984), and is completely forgettable.
Not so with Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part IV. It resides on The ConstruKction of Light (2000) and is arguably at least Part 1's equal. I would so much have loved to be able to include it on this list, but couldn't find a way to make it eligible. Again an instrumental, it is divided into three separate tracks on the CD, making inclusion slightly questionable already - it has indeed three movements that are a little different. This alone wouldn't have stopped me, but the next challenge is that its total running time is only 11 mins. 18 secs.
The deciding factor is that Part IV isn't really a complete track without its epilogue, Coda: I Have a Dream, which is the next track on the album. All three movements of Part IV and Coda form one single continuous track on the album, without any breaks. Also, this combination would be long enough to be eligible. But it has two different titles, so I decided not to include it in the top 20.
Anyway, be sure to check Larks' Tongues in Aspic Part IV / Coda: I Have a Dream out. It is a stunning musical achievement, although not an easy one.
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