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March of the Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock
Album Ever, Part One (Setting the Stage)
Welcome to the fifth
in our series of periodic music geek essays structured sports tournament
style, with 64 worthy contenders slugging it out head-to-head for the crown
at the end of the article. Prior tourneys have included The Worst Rock Band Ever,
Rock's Greatest Secret
Bands, Best of the
Blockbusters and Slaughtering
the Sacred Cows. (And for a peek at the unintended consequences of such
articles, see this
page). This season's contest seeks to identify and applaud the Best
Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever. And I have to tell you . . . this is the
one I probably feel most passionate about, since Progressive Rock ("prog" for
short convenience's sake) has formed the backbone of my listening habits for
as long as I have been buying, spinning, talking and writing about music. I've
had over 1,000 record and concert reviews and music-related interviews see
print publication over the years, but this topic, and this essay, is the one
that moves me the most.
So . . . with input and argument from several folks (thanks, you know who you
are), I've developed what I think is a solid list of the 64 greatest classic
Progressive Rock albums. I've organized them, sat on, mulled and looked at
the brackets for a few days, and feel like this list is good, and the
brackets are sound. I had to get a little more precise on setting these
brackets than I do in most of the these contests to preclude having bands
competing against themselves in the early rounds, and to space out some of
the obvious title contenders as well.
A review of the criteria for inclusion on the list:
1. The album must have been issued between the release of King Crimson's In
the Court of the Crimson King (October 1969) and Emerson, Lake and Palmer's
Love Beach (October 1978), the
beginning and end points of the classic prog era. I wrestled a little bit
with the beginning and end dates, and originally was going to close with the
release of Asia's debut album (1982), the first huge-selling,
prog-family-tree related album that didn't really sound anything like prog.
There were two precursor records prior to In the Court that I was
thinking of including for honorary/influence reasons: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely
Hearts Club Band by the Beatles (first popular use of the Mellotron,
first concept album), and Days of Future Passed by the Moody Blues
(the birth of orchestral rock, which deeply and significantly impacted prog),
but I opted to drop them from the contest, noting their import here instead
for the record. Other suggested (and good) end dates for the classic prog era
were the dawn of Pop Yes (of "Owner of a Lonely Heart" in 1983), or some
combination of Phil Collins' "You Can't Hurry Love" and "Sussudio," and/or
Peter Gabriel's "Big Time" and "Sledgehammer" in the '85/'86 period. But I
think it really came down to either Love Beach
or Asia.
I remember how I was very, very excited for that Asia album, based on who was
on it (prog all-stars John Wetton, Carl Palmer, Steve Howe and slightly
lesser light, at the time, Geoff Downes), and how I was very disappointed
when I got it, since there wasn't much progressive flavor to it at all,
really. But I'd had that feeling earlier: While Asia
was certainly a disappointing landmark, I still recall my shocked reaction to
the cover image of Love Beach, (which looked more like a disco record
than a prog one), and was similarly let down by the music within the package.
Punk had done its damage by then, as had unreasonable record company
expectations, which were the real catalyst behind the lesser quality of Love Beach when compared to its
predecessors, both by ELP and their progressive rock fellows. Prog as we knew
and loved it in the '70s died around the time that ELP took that photo on the
beach. (Is that why ELP's trio are smiling so broadly in that picture? Is it
giddy relief?) I should note that by shifting from Asia to Love Beach, I
only lost two of my original 64 albums, Pink Floyd's The Wall and Peter Gabriel's third album . . . and if we'd gotten
to a point where only two classic prog records were issued in a four year
period, then I think that further cements 1978 as the proper end year. And
before you write to snark at me about neo-prog and how great it is and how
much I am missing by excluding it . . . I know that. Maybe someday I will do
a best neo-prog record competition. But not now, for the same reasons that I
wouldn't critique Green Day and Blink 182 against the Sex Pistols and the
Clash. There are leaders, and there are followers. This essay is going to be
about the prog leaders.
2. While there are countless impassioned arguments online about what does and
does not count as prog, I have stuck to the classic/symphonic core of the
canon. The more jazz-rock oriented Canterbury scene (Soft Machine and descendants)
is not included. The pre-King Crimson psychedelic and symphonic rock groups
are not included. Krautrock (Can, Neu, Faust, Amon Duul) is not included.
Space rock is not included (with, arguably, the exception of Pink Floyd, who
could lay claim to sitting equally well in the psychedelic, prog and space
rock camps . . . I have selected their "most prog" albums from the '69-'78
time frame for inclusion here). No Rock in Opposition (Henry Cow and
relatives). No straight synth records (Jean-Michel Jarre and Tangerine
Dreams). Groups that had little impact, either commercially or critically in
the UK or USA are not included, except in such cases when they are key
offshoots to larger, more successful prog acts; this means most of the
continental prog is not included, while a lot of solo/side efforts by
mainline prog acts are. I would imagine my most controversial exclusion would
be my decision to drop Brian Eno's solo albums and Roxy Music from the list.
Based on discussion on another web board, I have based this exclusion on the
fact that Eno's "anti-musician" stance is far more punk than prog, even
though he had an All-star Prog Army playing on his first four solo albums.
And if Eno doesn't qualify, then Roxy Music doesn't either . . . they were
certainly "progressive" (as an adjective) on their first two Eno-fortified
albums, but they weren't "Prog" (as a noun), with their emphasis on singles,
romance and relatively short songs.
3. That discussion all noted, when you get right down it: What is Prog anyway?
I think the best definition of the genre that I've found online is on the
very useful Wikipedia; see their Characteristics
of Progressive Rock entry. The bottom line, though, really, is that prog
is like obscenity: it's hard to define, but you know it when you see it. Or
hear it.
4. No act was allowed to have more than four albums in the competition. For
the "Big Six" prog acts (ELP, Pink Floyd, Genesis, King Crimson, Yes and
Jethro Tull), I have picked the albums that are the "most Prog," using
criteria listed in the Wikipedia article (plus, obviously, my own judgment).
The analog to real NCAA sporting events is much closer in this contest than
it has been in the past: the "major conferences" (ACC, SEC, Big 10, Pac 10,
Big East, Big 12) closely parallel with the "big six" prog bands. Then you've
got your "mid-majors" (MAC, Mountain West, West Coast, Conference USA and
others in sports; Gentle Giant, Van Der Graaf Generator, Focus, Camel and
others in prog), and your plucky little one entry conferences (NEC,
Southland, Patriot etc. in sports, Curved Air, Badger, Utopia, etc. in prog).
Odds are in NCAA hoops that your finalists are going to be from the majors;
odds are in prog that the Big Six are going to be slugging it out at the end
of the tourney. But . . . that doesn't mean that there aren't going to be
upsets and Cinderellas. That's where the fun lies.
5. Albums will be pitted head to head until a Final Four is reached, at which
point the four surviving albums will go through a round robin process, each
one competing against each of the others. The one with the most points at
that stage wins. If two albums tie in the round robin, a deeper song-by-song
review will be conducted (or movement-by-movement if we end up with a couple
of album-long epics).
6. Of course,
ultimately, this is all just my opinion. But I think it's a very educated
opinion in this genre, given my 30+ years of listening to these records
semi-religiously. All music criticism and evaluation is subjective, and if
you don't agree with my conclusions, that's all fine and good. Hopefully you
will at least find the process to be entertaining.
7. This long (26,000
word) article was originally written in pieces on my blog, hence a lot of
the "tomorrow we will" and "yesterday we did" references. If you visit my
blog, you will see a section on the left-hand links sidebar called "dissecting."
There are more contests like this one linked there. The other contests are
also linked at the bottom of this page . . . but don't jump ahead!
So! Without further ado, here are the 64 contenders in their brackets. Like
the NCAA Hoops Tournament, albums have been assigned to four named regionals.
Consider yourself a prog geek if you know where the regional names come from:
The Slipperman Regional
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Utopia, RA
UK, UK vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Camel, Mirage
Alan Parsons Project, I Robot vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Peter Sinfield, Still
McDonald and Giles, McDonald and Giles vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Focus, Moving Waves
Van Der Graaf Generator, Pawn Hearts vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Split Enz, Mental Notes
Family, Fearless vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Rush, Hemispheres vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water vs. Genesis, Selling England by the
Pound
Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon vs. Jon Anderson, Olias of
Sunhillow
Magma, Udu Wudu vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Quiet Sun, Mainstream vs. Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory
Peter Banks, Two Sides of Peter Banks vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
The Wurm Regional
King Crimson, Lark's Tongue in Aspic vs. Alan Parsons Project, Tales
of Mystery and Imagination
801, Live vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Gentle Giant, Free Hand
Anthony Philips, The Geese and the Ghost vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Electric Light Orchestra, Eldorado
Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells vs. Pink Floyd, Meddle
Flash, Flash vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh vs. Genesis, A Trick of the
Tail
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile vs. Nektar, Journey to the Center of the Eye
Badger, One Live Badger vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Pictures At An
Exhibition
Rick Wakeman, The Six Wives of Henry VIII vs. Jethro Tull, Aqualung
Rush, 2112 vs. Focus, Focus 3
Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here vs. Family, Bandstand
Uriah Heep, Demons and Wizards vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One vs. Camel, Snow
Goose
Wishbone Ash, Argus vs. King Crimson, Red
I've got a busy couple of days coming up, so either in the quiet moments of
them, or when they're passed, I'll begin grinding through the list. I've loaded
up my car with all prog all the time to reacquaint myself with these discs.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Two (The
Slipperman Regional, Round One)
Alright, I got a little down time, let's see if we can't get through at least
a quarter of the first round this afternoon. The full bracket of 64 Classic
Prog Albums appears in an earlier post. Today, let's look at the Slipperman
Regional, with the following first round contests.
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Utopia, RA
UK, UK vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Camel, Mirage
Alan Parsons Project, I Robot vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Peter Sinfield, Still
McDonald and Giles, McDonald and Giles vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Focus, Moving Waves
Van Der Graaf Generator, Pawn Hearts vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Here's the play by play . . .
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Utopia, RA
In the Court is where it all begins, as Robert Fripp, Greg Lake, Ian
McDonald, Michael Giles and Peter Sinfield spin out a five-song collection
that stomps out of the gate with the harsh "21st Century Schizoid Man," then
soothes you with the gentle "I Talk to the Wind," then ricochets around
various folk, classical, rock and jazz idioms during "Epitaph" and "Moonchild,"
then exits with the massive mellotron-fueled epic title track. Pete Townsend
allegedly called it "an uncanny masterpiece," and that description is as apt
as any. RA was the third album issued by Todd Rundgren's side project,
and the first one to feature the classic line-up with Kasim Sulton, Roger
Powell and John "Willie" Wilcox. It's not as dirgy and dense as the two live
discs that preceded it, it has an interesting running undercurrent of Eastern
mysticism and melody, and its most prog moments come on the side-long suite "Singring
and the Glass Guitar," narrated in a cute little elf voice by Rundgren. Not
bad, really, but not in the same class as In the Court of the Crimson King.
Not by a long shot.
Winner: King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King
UK, UK vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel in the Gallery
UK was probably the most eagerly hyped and anticipated prog supergroup after
ELP and before Asia, with John Wetton (King Crimson, Family), Bill Bruford
(King Crimson, Yes), Eddie Jobson (Roxy Music) and Allan Holdsworth (Gong)
making up the group's initial, best lineup. While they weren't quite as
thrilling as ELP, they certainly also weren't quite as disappointing as Asia.
Still . . . their debut album hasn't aged that well, either in terms of
production or content, and with 20/20 hindsight, you can definitely hear some
of the wisps of Asia's lite pop rock sneaking in around the virtuoso chops. Minstrel
in the Gallery was the last album by Jethro Tull's best-loved lineup: Ian
Anderson, Martin Barre, Barriemore Barlow, John Evan and Jeffrey
Hammond-Hammond, who left after its completion to work as a visual artist on
a full time basis. His last album with the group has one of their hardest
songs (the title track), some of Barre's best lead guitar work, a couple of
top-notch near solo tracks by Anderson, and a nearly sidelong suite ("Baker
Street Muse") that manages to scoot off well before it overstays its welcome.
It sounds as good today as it did then, and you can't hear a dismal pop
future for its players lurking within its grooves. That's enough.
Winner: Jethro Tull, Minstrel in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Camel, Mirage
Gentle Giant's and Camel's devotees tend to be loud and insistent about how
their faves should and could have been seated at the Big Boys Prog Table
during the '70s. Reviews of their records tend to be filled with "Oh, but
only if . . . " and "There but for the . . ." statements, implying that some
combination of bad fortune, record company mismanagement, or a complete lack
of interest in the trappings of success kept these two from their rightful
place in Prog Glory. These views are wrong. The reason that neither Gentle
Giant nor Camel ascended to those exalted peaks is that neither of them is as
engaging as the better known bands who dominated the era. Gentle Giant, while
undeniably skilled talented, tends to be too fussy and prissy to really grab
and shake you. Camel, on the other hand, tends to veer into background and/or
soundtrack music mode too often. Given a choice between those two tendencies,
I think I'll have to go with fussy and prissy.
Winner: Gentle Giant, Octopus
Alan Parsons Project, I Robot vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
The student vs. the masters: Alan Parsons cut his teeth as studio engineer on
Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of the Moon, before embarking on a
successful career as mastermind behind one of prog's few successful
(critically and commercially) pop crossover acts. This contest pits Parsons
and friends' best album against Pink Floyd's darkest and densest disc. Both
albums touch on themes of dehumanization and individuality, one looking to
Isaac Asimov for inspiration, one to George Orwell. All things considered,
Orwell and Floyd make for a more appealing combo platter, even though Roger
Waters' dominance of this disc marked the beginning of the end of one of rock's
greatest creative partnerships. It was still good on Animals, even if
it was starting to fray around the edges.
Winner: Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Peter Sinfield, Still
King Crimson lyricist-light man-producer Peter Sinfield recruited a who's who
of prog titans for his first solo disc (later issued on CD in an expanded
format under the title Stillusion), including most every member of
Crimson itself, except Robert Fripp. You can hear some of the father band's
sounds and textures on Still, although they tend to be most like the
sounds and textures of Islands, the last Crimson studio album with
Sinfield involved, and an arguable low point before Crimson's rebirth on Lark's
Tongue in Aspic a year later. Sinfield is a wispy singer, and many of the
honky-tonk and country touches on Still sound affected and twee. The
Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, on the other hand, is brawny. It was the
final two-disc magnum opus by classic Genesis (Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks,
Phil Collins, Michael Rutherford and Steve Hackett), and marked the point
where Gabriel pulled his own Roger Waters move and completely took over the
band's lyrical direction, crafting a bizarre tale about a New York City
Puerto Rican thug and his adventures in a strange and hallucinatory
subterranean world. While the album stumbles a bit on its third side (a
standards double disc concept album problem), its brightest and best moments
are as bright and good as Genesis ever got. That's more than enough to carry
this contest.
Winner: Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
McDonald and Giles, McDonald and Giles vs. Yes, The Yes Album
McDonald and Giles, like Peter Sinfield's Still, finds a pod of
Crimson alumni offering their own spin on how King Crimson could and should
have sounded, without guiding guitarist Robert Fripp. While far more
successful than Sinfield's disc, McDonald and Giles (the only disc
issued by the consortium of drummer Michael Giles, his bass playing brother
Peter, reed and keyboard man Ian McDonald and friends and associated helpers,
including Steve Winwood and Sinfield) still gets nowhere near the power and
grandeur of In the Court of the Crimson King or its follow-up, In
the Wake of Poseidon (on which the Giles brothers played, but not
McDonald). Good for completists, but if this was your first introduction to
the King Crimson family tree, you would wonder what the fuss was all about.
The Yes Album, on the other hand, is revelatory and fascinating. If you
listen to Yes's first two lukewarm and straightforward records, it's
extremely difficult to comprehend how this third disc made such a quantum
leap in content and quality. The short cover tunes and pop numbers were gone,
replaced by such instant classics of the prog canon as "Starship Trooper," "All
Good People," and "Yours is No Disgrace." Two things probably drove this
shift: (1) Uber-guitarist Steve Howe joining the band, and (2) the fact that
Yes's members had been listening to, and learning from, King Crimson. No
contest.
Winner: Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Focus, Moving Waves
With the exception of a few early drummers, every member of Genesis has had a
critically successful and full solo career, some with more commercial success
than others. While Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins obviously have the most
name recognition among non-proggers, guitarist Steve Hackett may have issued
the best (and most proggy) solo disc of the bunch with his debut, Voyage
of the Acolyte. Mike Rutherford, Collins, Hackett's brother John, and other
supporting players offer stellar instrumental support to these eight magical
and magnificent numbers, the best of which, "Shadow of the Hierophant," could
stand as the greatest song Genesis never recorded, but should have. While
many King Crimson alums tried to retool that band's instrument sound in a
Robert Fripp-less setting, and failed, Hackett took a stab and Genesis' sound
in a Tony Banks-less setting, and made something wonderful. Dutch progsters
Focus are best known in America for their weird yodeling hit "Hocus Pocus,"
which is contained on Moving Waves in a longer, better form than the
single. While organist-flutist Thijs Van Leer's weird wordless ululating can
be a bit off-putting, this album's instrumental punch and scope is
spectacular, with the side-long freak-out "Eruption" standing tall as one of
the few places where a loosely scripted, prog-flavored jam session really
works well. Big credit is due to heroic guitar player Jan Akkerman, who
deserves far more fame and acclaim than he's earned. Unfortunately, though,
his and his band mates efforts can't trump Hackett's in this particular
contest. Fair, but unfortunate.
Winner: Steve Hackett, Voyage of the Acolyte
Van Der Graaf Generator, Pawn Hearts vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
I try and I try to like Van Der Graaf Generator, but despite my best, most
earnest efforts, their dense, off-putting music never quite gets to the point
where I enjoy listening to it. It feels too much like work, even on Pawn
Hearts, their best (to these ears) work, and one of two early discs to
feature guest guitar work by King Crimson's Robert Fripp. (Prog is nothing if
not incestuous). Put Pawn Heart's side-long suite "A Plague of
Lighthouse Keepers" against the side-long title suite of ELP's Tarkus,
and the laboriousness of VDGG's approach becomes all the more obvious. "Tarkus"
is intensely complex and busy, but it manages to sneak in some killer hooks
and points of engagement, and its transitions are relatively seamless. It
seems shorter than its running time. "Lighthouse Keepers," on the other side,
has clunky connections, not a lot of melody, and some strenuously strident
singing by Peter Hammill. It feels a lot longer than its running time. While
some folks dismiss the quality of Tarkus' second side (I'm not one of
them, but more on that during a later round), one side of ELP in this case is
worth more than two of VDGG, so it becomes essentially a moot point.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
And that's it for today, giving us the following matchups when we move to
second round of the Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel
in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, The Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
I'll tackle another regionals first round when I get back from a weekend
away. Stay tuned.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Three (The
Bostock Regional, Round One)
Back from a nice couple of days at the Sagamore. I'm tired, but have to stay
up until midnight to go pick up the teenager from the
obligatory Halloween weekend party. Time to burn. Let's knock off another
quarter of the first round, this time tackling . . .
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Split Enz, Mental Notes
Family, Fearless vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Rush, Hemispheres vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water vs. Genesis, Selling England by the
Pound
Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon vs. Jon Anderson, Olias of
Sunhillow
Magma, Udu Wudu vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Quiet Sun, Mainstream vs. Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory
Peter Banks, Two Sides of Peter Banks vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
Note: If you're new to this, scroll back to the Part One, where the rules and
regulations are explained. And if you know what's what, then hey nonny, let's
get critiquing . . .
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Split Enz, Mental Notes
I can hear some of you saying "Split Enz? Those '80s new wave poppy
Finn-fueled dudes with the silly hair and suits?" And, uh, yeah, them. But
earlier: years before Neil Finn brought his pop chops and smarts into the
fold, back when the primary creative partnership was between Neil's older
brother Tim and Phil Judd, later of Schnell Fenster and the Swingers. Mental
Notes was the Enz's first full-length album from 1975, and it's a
prog-flavored corker, with all sorts of weird voices, stories, reeds, keys
and sounds jockeying around on a collection of truly clever songs, especially
the lengthy (by pop standards, anyway, if not prog standards) "Under the
Wheel" and "Stranger Than Fiction." The record died a fairly dismal
commercial death on release, but caught the ear of Roxy Music guitarist Phil
Manzanera, who brought the eclectic New Zealanders to Britain to re-record,
re-work and re-sequence Mental Notes, re-issuing it a year later as Second
Thoughts. That one bit the dust, too, and Phil Judd split, leaving Tim
Finn in charge for 1977's Dizrhythmia, which is a great disc, but
decidedly less weird and not particularly prog at all. Close to the Edge,
though, is about as prog as prog gets, as it marked Yes's first forays into
side-long epics (the title track), and continued their streak of successful
9-12 minutes jobs (Side Two's "And You And I" and "Siberian Khatru"). Rick
Wakeman had appeared on Fragile a year earlier, but Close to the
Edge marks the first Yes record created with him involved from git-go to
git-gone. (I leave that simply as a statement of fact, however, not as
something good or bad. We'll talk plenty more about Wakeman later). This was
also Bill Bruford's last album with Yes, before he split to join King
Crimson. While "Close to the Edge" (the song) certainly has its moments, the
two shorter (by prog standards, not pop standards) songs on its flip side are
the real gems here, with the always astonishing Steve Howe and Chris Squire
doing some truly remarkable stuff, much of it clean, clear, uncluttered
and/or acoustic. This was a peak of sorts for Yes, not an aborted start of
something that grew into something completely different, years later, as was
the case with Split Enz. Can't argue with that, really.
Winner: Yes, Close to the Edge
Family, Fearless vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Family is best known these days for things that their alumni did after leaving:
Ric Grech was the least-well known member of Blind Faith (which as far as the
rock press is concerned, seems to still be better than being the best-well
known member of Family), and John Wetton is, of course, one of prog's
mainstay bassists and vocalists. Fearless is one of two albums Wetton
recorded with Family, and it offers a fascinating snapshot into how one could
take progressive concepts, apply them to some essentially straightforward
blues songs, and create something distinctive and unique. Utility infielder
Poli Palmer (who also appears on both of the Wetton albums) offers a lot of
the non-traditional sounds, with vibes and early analog synthesizers adding
splashes of color and coolness in places where most bands would have settled
for a standard solo. Thick As A Brick was the first of two album-long
suites by Jethro Tull, and former blues band themselves, but one that never
really reconciled their blues leanings with the progressive leanings (with
the possible exception of some of the weirder stompers, like "Play In Time,"
on Benefit, two studio albums before Thick as a Brick). Thick
As A Brick is also the first album by the line-up that most longtime Tull
fans tend to pine for the most (as mentioned earlier), with Barriemore Barlow
stepping onto the drum riser to relieve Clive Bunker after Aqualung. Thick
As A Brick's opening edit is one of the more recognizable pieces of the
Tull canon, although it's mostly just Ian Anderson doing a solo acoustic
guitar piece. From there, though, the album gets pretty darned stompy,
especially on the "See there a child is born" and "I've come down from the
upper class to mend your rotten ways" sections. There's some free form bits
around the area where Side A ended and Side B began in vinyl days, and the
second half of the record gets a bit drifty, but as one of prog's first
really, really big musical and conceptual statements, it's hard to not
lean in this record's direction here.
Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Rush, Hemispheres vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Goodness, an all-North American contest, with Canada's finest duking it out
with, uh, Kansas's favorite sons. Leftoverture was an unexpected pop
crossover hit on the strength of the single "Carry On Wayward Son," one of
the more unusual commercial smashes of the '70s. I can remember some pop
radio junkies picking up this album at the time, and being freaked out by its
art and pompiness, since most albums bearing Top 40 singles at the time didn't
feature such non-toe-tapping things after the opening hit song. Of course,
odds are Kansas was just as surprised by its success as casual listeners were
at how little there was on the record that sounded short and punchy like "Wayward
Son." Still, I'd lift this record up as Kansas's finest and most ambitious
moment, even though personally I'd rather listen to its slightly more
accessible follow-on, Point of Know Return. Hemispheres is one
of two Rush albums from the classic prog era featuring a side-long suite
backed with a handful of shorter numbers, 2112 being the other. While "Hemispheres"
(the song) is probably the better of the two opuses, the second side is
pretty light-weight, with "The Trees" standing as one of the songs that most
Rush haters cite when they try to explain why they hate Rush. I like Rush . .
. but I still have to agree with most Rush haters on that one. In this case,
I'd rather advance a band at the top of its game, not a band thrashing out
its last epic before really hitting its stride in the early '90s with some
mercifully tight short numbers, none of which are as lyrically simplistic and
silly as "The Trees."
Winner: Kansas, Leftoverture
Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water vs. Genesis, Selling England by
the Pound
There's lots of folks who will lift up Selling England by the Pound as
Genesis' masterpiece. And there are parts of it that deserve such kudos: "Dancing
With the Moonlit Knight, "Firth of Fifth" and "Cinema Show/Aisle of Plenty"
are indeed among the group's greatest performances. "I Know What I Like (In
Your Wardrobe)" isn't quite up to those standards, but, by golly, it was a
mild crossover hit, and a weird one, so we always like it when proggers
manage to pull that off. But then there's "More Fool Me," sung by Phil
Collins in a high, thin warble that (with 20/20 hindsight) is somewhat
remarkable . . . in that I'd never have expected the singer of this song to
build a multi-mega-platinum solo singing career for himself. And then, even
worse, there's "The Battle of Epping Forest/After the Ordeal". Hoo boy. I
view this as Peter Gabriel's practice run for what he pulled off far more
successfully a year or so later on The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, an
attempt at getting away from classical mythology and space aliens and
medieval battles and fairy tales and whatnot, replacing those tried and true
prog themes with something grittier, more real world and earthy. Neither he
nor his band mates manage to pull it off at all on this too too veddy
veddy view of how posh upper class English twit boys viewed blue collar crime
and thuggery, set to a clunky musical score, and extended far longer than it
needs to be with the disposable "After the Ordeal" plodding along when the
fighting is done. Fish Out of Water is, without question, the probably
the best solo album produced by any of the classic-period Yes members, with
the possible exception of Steve Howe's The Steve Howe Album, which
unfortunately came out just a smidge too late to make this survey. (Early
guitarist Tony Banks put out some winners, too, but we'll talk about them
later). Squire's record is the most Yes-sounding of the Yes solos too, in
part because his titanic bass work is so recognizable and such a key part of
the Yes sound, but also because Squire (and Howe) provide such consistent
backing vocals to lead angelic tenor Jon Anderson that you're actually far
more used to hearing their voices than you think they are. Squire never
issued another solo, which is a pity, given the number of dodgy ones that his
band mates have put out since this excellent and consistently solid disc was
dropped. In what will probably be viewed as an upset, I'm going to go with
that tight consistency over Genesis' sprawling yet seriously inconsistent
disc.
Winner: Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water
Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon vs. Jon Anderson, Olias of
Sunhillow
Jon Anderson's Olias of Sunhillow was recorded in the same Yes
sabbatical that produced Chris Squire's Fish Out of Water. It received
a nice response from critics and fans, I think in large part because they/we
were pleasantly surprised to find that Anderson was capable of creating an
entire disc's worth of instrumental backing all by his lonesome, since he'd
not exhibited any discernable proficiency with musical instruments before
that time. Olias is a bit twee on the lyrical front, though, which
wasn't all that surprising, I guess, given Anderson's proclivity for fantasy
and fairies and the like. One of the other problems with this (and all of
Anderson's other solo albums) is that his voice, which can be wonderful when
backed and tracked with Squire and Steve Howe's voices on Yes records, sounds
awfully dog-whistle shrill when he's singing solo parts or offering
multi-tracked stacks of himself. And when you put this fluffy and lightweight
album up against a genre defining disc like Pink Floyd's The Dark Side of
the Moon, well, really now, it's hard to pick the guy who didn't
embarrass himself on the harp over the tight, talented rock quartet who made
the most recognizable, famous and best-selling concept album of all time, isn't
it?
Winner: Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon
Magma, Udu Wudu vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Magma was the brain child of continental percussionist and composer Christian
Vander, who got around the problem of having his singers' words not being
understood in neighboring countries by creating an all-new, all-fictional
language (called Kobaiian) for his songs, and building a monumental and epic
space fantasy to accompany them, played out over the course of several
records, in a style they dubbed "zeuhl". Udu Wudu is one of those
Kobaiian records, but it's one that many Magma fans seem quick to dismiss as
being atypical or unusual within the canon, or "not zeuhl enough". But to
these ears, it's one of their two best efforts ever, with Vander, bassist
Jannick Top and vocalist Klaus Blasquiz whipping up an unbelievable,
over-the-top masterpiece that sounds completely unlike anything I've ever
heard anywhere else, including other Magma records. It's a lost gem, and well
worth hunting down. After its issue, Magma took a brief breather, then
reconvened to delve further into some of the funkier, fusion elements of Udu
Wudu, but without as much success. As an historical footnote, their 1978
album Attahk featured art by Swiss provocateur H.R. Giger, who also
produced one of the '70s most recognizable record images: the cover of
Emerson Lake and Palmer's Brain Salad Surgery. ELP's fifth album is a
masterpiece, the one place where they managed to touch all of their various
fetishes (epic works, classical reinterpretations, barrelhouse/cowboy music,
love ballads, etc.) successfully and emphatically. While you could definitely
make a case that "Karn Evil 9" runs a good deal longer than it probably
should (you could knock out the whole movement between the "Welcome back my
friends" segment and the closing computer/space battle segment and not too
many people would grumble), its best bits are so good that it's pretty easy
to roll with the transitions. All the zeuhl in the world can't compete with
prog credentials like Brain Salad Surgery's got.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Quiet Sun, Mainstream vs. Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory
Quiet Sun was Phil Manzanera's pre-Roxy Music band, although the group never
managed to release a record before their guitarist bolted to join Ferry, Eno
and Company. (Manzanera replaced original Roxy guitarist David O'List, who
had previously played with Keith Emerson of ELP in the Nice . . . more prog
incest at play). Give Manzanera kudos for remembering his pre-fame chums,
though, because during a mid-'70s Roxy Music hiatus, he reconvened them to
record a companion album to his own solo Diamond Head. Mainstream
is a nice enough album, with Manzanera's always interesting guitar styling
nicely supported and often enhanced by the rhythm section of Charles Hayward
and Bill MacCormick. Still . . . not much of it really sticks outside of "Mummy
Was An Asteroid, Daddy Was A Small Non-Stick Kitchen Appliance" and "Rongwrong,"
both of which appeared in much better live versions soon thereafter on 801
Live. That's not much to hang a recommendation on. Gentle Giant's The
Power and the Glory is a little more electric guitar oriented than most
of the group's canon, but it still retains their trademark fussiness and
prissiness, which almost become more annoying when paired with occasional
guitar crunchiness. That said, there's a little bit more sticking power on
this album's best songs than you can find on Mainstream, so we've got
to give Kerry Minnear, the Shulman brothers and pals credit for that, at
least.
Winner: Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory
Peter Banks, Two Sides of Peter Banks vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
Peter Banks was the founding guitarist of Yes, and appeared on their first two,
largely pre-prog albums, Yes and Time and a Word. After getting
the boot to make way for Steve Howe (gosh, you can't blame the other Yes guys
for that now, can you?), he formed Flash, who released a few albums bang bang
bang style, then folded to allow Banks to launch a solo career. Two Side
of Peter Banks is the first fruit of that phase, and if Banks didn't
really show a lot of prog chops and potential with pre-prog Yes, he certainly
makes up for here, bringing in Steve Hackett, Phil Collins, John Wetton,
other members of Flash and, best of all, guitarist Jan Akkerman from Focus,
who as mentioned in yesterday's competition, is one of the greatest
guitarists you've probably never heard, but should. Together, the crew makes
a great, great album, one that sounds like a cross between Hackett's Voyage
of the Acolyte and Focus's "Eruption" freak fest. Starless and Bible
Black, the second disc of King Crimson's post-Sinfield renaissance, opens
with "The Great Deceiver," which sounds like nothing before, nothing since
it, and nothing except it. It's a great original, a madcap, frantic piece
that packs more substance into a short package than just about anything else
in the Crimson canon. It's a classic. As is the album closer, "Fracture,"
which is one of their best long instrumental pieces, and has a closing
section that's among the heaviest, hardest pieces of music I've ever heard .
. . especially since it comes on the heels of a quiet, drama/tension-building
slow and silent section, making it's ass-kicking entrance all that much more
exciting. There are some other wonderful numbers on this mix of studio and
live cuts, though none of them capture the insane intensity of the album's
openers and closers. Two Sides of Peter Banks is solid and dependable.
Starless and Bible Black is wild and exciting. If they were members of
the opposite sex, you know which type you'd want to date, don't you?
Winner: King Crimson, Starless and Bible Black
And yippie ti yi yay, there's another quarter of the first round dispatched.
This leads us to the following second round matchups when we make our next
pass through the Bostock Regional:
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Kansas, Leftoverture vs. Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water
Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain
Salad Surgery
Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Four (The Wurm
Regional, Round One)
Let's keep this thing going on the first day of Fall Back season, when the
sun has set far earlier than I'd prefer it to, and it feels like it's late at
night, even though it isn't. Tonight, we work through the first round of the
Wurm Regional, featuring:
The Wurm Regional
King Crimson, Lark's Tongue in Aspic vs. Alan Parsons Project, Tales
of Mystery and Imagination
801, Live vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Gentle Giant, Free Hand
Anthony Philips, The Geese and the Ghost vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Electric Light Orchestra, Eldorado
Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells vs. Pink Floyd, Meddle
Flash, Flash vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh vs. Genesis, A Trick of the
Tail
If you're new, check the rules and regulations in earlier posts. Here's what
we've got to listen to and think about and decide on tonight . . .
King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic vs. Alan Parsons Project, Tales
of Mystery and Imagination
Tales of Mystery and Imagination was the debut album from the Alan
Parsons Project, best known before this 1975 release for his work as an
engineer on albums by Pink Floyd, Roy Wood, Wings and others. It was an
audacious and impressive debut, a musical tour through some of the best-known
works of 19th Century creepy Edgar Allan Poe. The music is sharp, the
arrangements are clean and innovative, the performances are crisp and
professional. But the use of multiple lead vocalists makes it kind of hard to
ever really get a sense of what this group's collective personality is
supposed to be, an issue that continued throughout the Parsons Project's long
and commercially successful run. Maybe that's why they were commercially
successful, as they were able to tab and nab the lead singer who could nail a
song just so . . . but somehow it leaves all of their material sounding less
like a band and more like a collection of studio professionals. Which, of
course, it was. Larks' Tongue in Aspic marked the rebirth of King
Crimson after a series of transitional lineups and increasingly spotty
albums, and it's a monster recording by a monster band: Robert Fripp, John
Wetton (from Family), Bill Bruford (from Yes), violinist David Cross and
percussionist Jamie Muir. The album is framed by parts I and II of the record's
title track, with four crunchy and atmospheric pieces between them. "Lark's
Tongue in Aspic, Part II" is one of Robert Fripp's most amazing compositions,
and it's one of only two works from the '70s that were carried forward into
the live repertoire of '80s, '90s and '00s Crimson. While there are tighter,
more powerful, and faster live versions of the song available on disc, this
clattery, measured performance by the five-piece band is still a benchmark of
the ways in which classic prog could merge power with pizzazz and pull
something extraordinary and unique out of the creative cauldron. Nothing on Tales
of Mystery and Imagination comes close to that.
Winner: King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic
801, Live vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer
801 was originally conceived as a live group, pulled together by Roxy Music
guitarist Phil Manzanera. Later studio works under the 801 title tended to be
more loosely affiliated aggregations of players, but 801 Live is definitely
the product of a tight and well-rehearsed band, featuring members of
Roxy Music (Manzanera and Brian Eno), Quiet Sun and Matching Mole (Bill
MacCormick) and Curved Air (Francis Monkman), plus studio aces Simon Phillips
(drums) and Lloyd Watson (slide guitar). The group's material is taken mostly
from Eno and Manzanera's catalogs, with some choice '60s covers tossed in for
good measure. All told, this is one of those great live albums that merges
the energy of a concert performance with the spot-on perfect performances
expected from studio work. A winner. Emerson Lake and Palmer's self-titled
debut was a winner, too, with four tightly packed numbers ("The Barbarian," "Tank,"
"Knife Edge" and the over-played "Lucky Man") sharing disc space with two
longer (and less successful) numbers, "The Three Fates" and "Take A Pebble"
(the latter of which got even longer, and even less successful, on ELP's
triple disc live album a few years later). Despite the need for editing on
those two latter songs, this auspicious opening shot from prog's first
supergroup fundamentally altered the landscape of progressive rock in the '70s
for the better, and set the bar for both commercial success and technical
virtuosity that most other proggers would spend the next eight years trying
to match. Few did. This is an essential prog recording, with "Tank" and "Knife
Edge" in particular standing tall in the canon of all-time great prog songs.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Gentle Giant, Free Hand
I find Free Hand to be the quintessential Gentle Giant record, the one
I'd recommend to people if they wanted to know just what this group was all
about. Of course . . . I'm not sure that I say that as a complement, since
that means Free Hand finds the group's medieval vocal lines and
prissy, fussy arrangements dancing on tip toes around each other in knotty,
nimble fits of precision and fastidiousness. I can appreciate the talent and
vision behind their records, but I don't find myself wanting to listen to
them very often, or for very long. Curved Air has a couple of high profile
alumni (Eddie Jobson from Roxy Music and Jethro Tull, and Stewart Copeland
from the Police), but neither of them appear on Phantasmagoria, easily
the group's creative high point. Francis Monkman (mentioned earlier as a
member of 801) is here, though, along with violinist Darryl Way and singer
Sonja Cristina, one of the few women appearing in this list . . . since I
excluded the RIO/Henry Cow crowd (knocking out the excellent Lindsay Cooper
and Dagmar Krause), and can't bring myself to include Renaissance and/or
Annie Haslam, having seen her deliver one of the dullest live performances I
ever reviewed during a solo tour. Cristina was a great singer with loads of
character, and her band mates provided some impressive space in which she
could romp. This is a group that deserves to be remembered with more than
footnotes on the Roxy Music and Police family trees. They certainly produced
the better album in this particular match up.
Winner: Curved Air, Phantasmagoria
Anthony Phillips, The Geese and the Ghost vs. Yes, Relayer
I've cited Steve Hackett's Voyage of the Acolyte as the best
non-Gabriel/Collins Genesis side project, and the only record by any other
member of Genesis that I had to ponder in making that declamation was Anthony
Phillips' The Geese and the Ghost, which also featured Phil Collins
and (more heavily) Mike Rutherford from the father band. Phillips left Genesis
after their second album, Trespass, then took seven years to get his
first solo disc out into the public domain. It was worth the wait, with loads
of smart pop songs, some dark Trespass-like instrumentals and a nice
little suite of Tudor-era music. Unlike Gentle Giant, Phillips and friends
manage to make those classical English pieces engaging and hearty; there's
real emotion there betwixt the lutes and madrigals. And speaking of emotion:
Phil Collins gives what I consider to be his unquestionably greatest vocal
performance on "God If I Saw Her Now," an amazing, heart-breaking number with
lyrics and music to die for, literally. Amazing stuff. But, then, when it
comes to amazing stuff, Yes' Relayer certainly doesn't lack itself.
This is the only album the group recorded with Swiss keyboardist Patrick
Moraz, and that's a pity, because it's one of their most eclectic, electric
and hair-raising efforts, filled with all sorts of noise and fury, of both
synthetic and organic varieties. It was also the last Yes album to feature
only extended pieces, with the side-long "The Gates of Delirium," and the
9-minute plus "Sound Chaser" (probably my all-time favorite Yes song) and "To
Be Over." After touring this disc, Yes brought Rick Wakeman back to replace
Moraz, for the lackluster "Going for the One" and "Tormato" discs. This was
the high point for Classic Yes, the spot after which the great albums were
less common (and, frankly, more surprising) than the disappointing ones. We've
got to honor that here, I think.
Winner: Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Electric Light Orchestra, Eldorado
A Passion Play is Jethro Tull's highest selling album ever . . . but
it's one of their most controversial, inspiring love and hate in equal
measure from serious and casual fans alike. Like Thick As A Brick
before it, it's a single song spread over two sides of an album, although the
movements and separate pieces are more pronounced here than they were on Brick,
especially during "The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles," on which
most of the debate about this record hinges. A children's morality play with
animal characters, and narrated by bassist Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond, the piece
sounds like nothing else in the Tull oeuvre. But, then, really you can say
that about this entire album: Ian Anderson plays more sax here than flute,
and John Evan's synths are far more prominent than they are on any other Tull
record. The story of the recording and touring and meaning of this album are
so rich in content that there's actually a website devoted solely to this
most unusual Jethro Tull offering: The Annotated Passion
Play (dig through there deep enough, and you'll find some of my
theorizing in there). Love it or hate it, A Passion Play is about as
prog as prog gets, which is a bit more than we can say about Electric Light
Orchestra's Eldorado. While ELO's defining concept (rock with
orchestral instrumentation) is almost stereotypically prog, their execution
leans more toward the pop and rock side of the equation than most other bands
and records listed here. While Eldorado is easily their finest
recording and most alike the other 63 in this survey in its ambitions and
scope, it can't hold a candle to the titanic shadow that A Passion Play
casts over '70s prog pretensions.
Winner: Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells vs. Pink Floyd, Meddle
Sick of Richard Branson? Blame Mike Oldfield, since his album-long opus Tubular
Bells was the first release on Virgin Records, and its success provided
the seed money for pretty much everything else that Branson did afterwards.
Still, though, it was a pretty good debut for a record label, as the
precocious talent played every instrument, most of them well, throughout an
epic song cycle, that's far more engaging than just about any other
instrumental piece of equal length I can think of. It didn't hurt, mind you,
that it's opening section was co-opted as the scary theme music for The
Exorcist. Pink Floyd's Meddle features an epic number, too, the side long
"Echoes," which really framed the template for the sonic and songwriting
approaches that would define their work on The Dark Side of the Moon
and Wish You Were Here in years ahead. It's first half, though, is a bit
of a mixed bag: opening "One of These Days" is fantastic, and "Fearless" is
under-rated, but the rest of the tracks ("A Pillow of Winds," "San Tropez"
and "Seamus" are essentially throwaways). Richard Branson aside, I still find
Tubular Bells to be a better, more engaging listen, beginning to end,
than Meddle. Plus . . . I like listening to a drunken Vivian Stanshall
announcing the instruments at the end of Tubular Bells, just as he'd
done years earlier on the Bonzo Dog Band's debut disc. That's a nice little
bit of continuity there.
Winner: Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells
Flash, Flash vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
Flash was the group formed by original Yes guitarist Peter Banks after Jon Anderson
and company chucked him in favor of Steve Howe. (Good move, I guess, for
Yes). On their first disc, Flash also included Tony Kaye, recently chucked by
Yes in favor of Rick Wakeman (a move that I don't hold consider to be as
wise). The record, not surprisingly, sounds a lot like Yes. It's sort of an
alternate view of The Yes Album, with similarly long songs mixed with
short pieces, and some indications that Banks and Kaye and cohorts had also
given the first couple of King Crimson records some thoughtful spins. Nice
enough, in its own way, but not really as a good as anything Yes did, or even
as things that Banks did later with Jan Akkerman from Focus. Or, for that
matter, not really as good and engaging as Point of Know Return, on
which Kansas amazingly managed to duplicate the commercial crossover success
they'd achieved with Leftoverture. As was the case with "Carry On
Wayward Son" on Leftoverture, Point of Know Return featured a
chart-devouring single ("Dust in the Wind") that really didn't sound all that
much like the rest of the album. My own father, in fact, bought Point of
Know Return before I did on the strength of that single. I think he
listened to it once before he gave it to me. That's good prog that will make
your parents want to buy it.
Winner: Kansas, Point of Know Return
Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh vs. Genesis, A Trick of the
Tail
A Trick of the Tail was the first Genesis record issued after Peter
Gabriel's departure. Much to everyone's surprise, Phil Collins stepped up to
the mic and delivered a winner, a record that sold more copies than any
Genesis record that had come before it, but one that the prog fans still
embraced. (The die-hard proggers gave up on Genesis for the most part two
albums later, after Steve Hackett left and they started having radio hits). Trick
has some great numbers, there's no arguing that: "Squonk" and "Dance on a
Volcano" are hard-hitting and potent, while "Entangled" and "Ripples" are
beautiful and haunting. But there's some troubling signs on this record, too,
with the goofy music hall flavor of the album's title track, the stupid
theatrical lyrics of "Robbery, Assault and Battery" (that mirror the awful "The
Battle of Epping Forest" in some ways), the dramatic cheese of "Mad Man Moon,"
and the filler reprises in "Los Endos." Most of the things that ultimately
dragged Genesis down are already in place on this record, although it's
easier to ignore them than on later discs due to the superior quality of the
first four songs mentioned. Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh is generally
regarded as the high-water mark of Magma's Zeuhl/Kobaiian period, a dark,
dense record, with choirs singing in Christian Vander's fabricated language,
horns blaring, and some insanely powerful, repetitive rhythmic work
under-pinning the whole shooting match. It's not an easy listen, mind you,
but it's a rewarding one. Much more than, say, anything by Van Der Graaf
Generator, where you work hard to get through it, and don't really feel like
you can say anything other than "Well, I worked hard to get through that."
Magma will grow on you, eventually, and their ambition and reach were awesome
around the time of this record's creation. Which, having nothing as silly as "Robbery,
Assault and Battery" on it, is easily the winner of this contest.
Winner: Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh
And that's it for tonight's effort, as we are now 75 percent through the
first round. The next time we revisit the Wurm Regional, we will have the
following contests to consider:
King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson
Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells
Kansas, Point of Know Return vs. Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw
Kommandoh
Stay tuned 'til next time, whenever that might be.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Five (The
Syrinx Regional, Round One)
I'm here at the house alone, getting up every five minutes to hand out
Hallowe'en candy to the trick of treaters working the neighborhood. Seems
like a good time to knock off the last quarter of the first round. For
refreshers, here's who we're looking at in . . .
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile vs. Nektar, Journey to the Center of the Eye
Badger, One Live Badger vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Pictures At An
Exhibition
Rick Wakeman, The Six Wives of Henry VIII vs. Jethro Tull, Aqualung
Rush, 2112 vs. Focus, Focus 3
Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here vs. Family, Bandstand
Uriah Heep, Demons and Wizards vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One vs. Camel, Snow
Goose
Wishbone Ash, Argus vs. King Crimson, Red
And here's how we break this tough regional down . . .
Yes, Fragile vs. Nektar, Journey to the Center of the Eye
Journey to the Center of the Eye is probably the most obscure record I've
listed in this field of 64, but it's a winner. Well, at least in terms of
quality anyway. Probably not in terms of this contest. But, before we decide
that, let's give it a look. Nektar were founded in Germany, but I let them
into this competition (while excluding all the Krautrockers), because they
weren't actually German: they were displaced Englishmen. Also, there's more
mellotron per minute on this album than just about any other prog record you
can easily lay your mind, hands or fingers on, so that's gotta count for
something, pedigree wise. Sound wise, Journey to the Center of the Eye
teeters right on the genre-defining edges of prog, psychedelia and space
rock, but there are enough symphonic threads running through it to allow it
to compete with some of the bigger, better known A-listers filling this
chart. Unfortunately, though, Nektar has the misfortune of going up against
Yes's Fragile in the first round. While not necessarily their best
album, it was the record that introduced Rick Wakeman to the band's fold, and
it did have two of the biggest prog rock radio successes of the era with "Roundabout"
and "Long Distance Runaround." Neither of those two songs are this album's
highlights though (particularly in their radio edits): that honor goes to "Heart
of the Sunrise," a massive, majestic piece with exciting dynamics and
strenuous, searing instrumental work. Also impressive is "The Fish
(Schindleria Praematurus)," which serves as a coda to the full version of "Long
Distance Runaround," and let's Chris Squire's always awesome bass gallop
around like nobody's business. "We Have Heaven" is nice (but short), and "South
Side of the Sky" is interesting (but long), and the other cuts fill in
appropriately, ensuring each band member gets their own instrumental
showcase, although all of them together are less satisfying than any of the
aforementioned cuts. Outside of Pink Floyd, this is probably the prog album
that more non-prog fans have in their collection, so we've got to honor that,
despite Nektar's valiant upset attempt.
Winner: Yes, Fragile
Badger, One Live Badger vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Pictures At
An Exhibition
I made a conscious attempt to exclude live albums in this survey, unless they
offered material that was never issued in any studio setting, or unless there
were live cuts interspersed with studio cuts. Absent those conditions, most
live prog albums of the '70s did little more than prove that the bands could
actually play they way they played in concert. Ironically and without
actively intending to do so, I have pitted two of the rare live albums in
this survey against each other in the first round. ELP's Pictures At An
Exhibition is one of the more famous stabs at tackling classical music,
rock style, as Greg, Carl and Keith deconstruct Modest Mussourgsky's piano
classic in big prog fashion, making Mussourgsky one of the world's most
famous obscure Russian composers in the process. The results are definitely
interesting, if scattershot and with definite flaws: many of the lyrics are
bad, even by prog standards, the live sound isn't too hot (particularly to
contemporary ears), and the coda of "Nutrocker" (i.e. "The Nutcracker" done
rock style) is really, really bad. Nice in concept, interesting the
first few times you listen to it, but too long and poorly recorded to really
stick with you. (I actually prefer the tighter, shorter studio version of "Pictures"
included on the ELP box set The Return of the Manticore, which offers
all the meat, without the stuffing). One Live Badger was Badger's
debut disc, an odd approach but a successful one, since the band felt that
studioitis was sucking the life out of numbers that soared in concert. It's
hard to shake the Yes connection (Tony Kaye is the main creative force in the
band, formed after he left Flash, Jon Anderson produced, sometime Yes
lyricist David Foster plays bass and sings, and Roger Dean handled the art
work), but the group really does have a unique and high quality sound of their
own, in large part due to Foster's vocals, which are gruffer and heartier
than most of the Yes posse's angelic sighs and soarings. With 30 years worth
of 20/20 vision, One Live Badger holds up better and rewards
contemporary listening better now than Pictures At An Exhibition does.
Chalk one up to Cinderella.
Winner: Badger, One Live Badger
Rick Wakeman, The Six Wives of Henry VIII vs. Jethro Tull, Aqualung
Okay, I've flirted around the topic several times, but now I have to state it
straight up and forward-like: I really don't care for Rick Wakeman, and have
never understood why Yes fans and other prog heads get all hot and bothered
about him. Sure, he's a fine keyboardist, but my own personal favorite Yes
albums are the ones on which he doesn't play (The Yes Album, Relayer,
Drama, The Ladder). To me, the sound of Yes is, ultimately, the sound of
Chris Squire and Steve Howe playing together. Most of the other Yes
keyboardists have allowed those string benders to strike sparks, but when
Wakeman's onboard, he tends to force his "classically trained" sensibilities
to the fore, to the detriment of the guitarists. Plus, Wakeman's notorious
concert cape did more to invoke sneers and scorn for progressive rock than
pretty much anything that anybody ever committed to disc. That bias aside, The
Six Wives of Henry VIII is decent enough, I suppose, although it has a
sterile and academic flavor to it, as Wakeman seeks to create a musical
portrait of each of the Missus Henry's. The best number of the album is the
opener "Catherine of Aragon," on which Squire does his thing with typical
panache. (Steve Howe and Bill Bruford also make guest appearances here). All
told, though, this record feels like a museum piece, not a vibrant, engaging
musical document. Jethro Tull's Aqualung, while generally regarded by
casual fans as the Tull apex, has its faults as well, and it hasn't aged as
well as some other pieces from the era. The sound is podgy and dry at times,
and the over-playing of the title cut and "Locomotive Breath" have tended to
breed contempt over the years. The album marked the recording debut of
bassist Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond, who grew to be regarded as one of the best
loved Tulls, but at this point was no match for the deposed Glenn Cornick on
the four string axe. Still, though, props must be given to Ian Anderson,
Martin Barre and company for producing one of the most recognizable riffs
(the opening lick of "Aqualung") and lyrics ("Snot running down his nose") in
progressive rock history, and for some potent, lasting songs that don't get
the attention they deserve: the sad and lovely "Cheap Day Return," the
brooding "Mother Goose," the rollicking "Hymn 43" and the
wiser-than-it-sounds-at-first "Wind Up". I'll take those over Wakeman's best
doodlings any day.
Winner: Jethro Tull, Aqualung
Rush, 2112 vs. Focus, Focus 3
2112 was the first of Rush's really big prog statements, with the
side-long title track and its fantastic (as in "of fantasy," not as in "boy
those are great") lyrics. It's geeky as all get out, but there's something
giddy about singing along with Geddy Lee's banshee wail on such sterling bon
mots as "We are the priests of the Temple of Syrinx!" Still, as was the case
in an earlier competition with Hemispheres, Rush backed their prog
epic with a collection of short, nondescript numbers that didn't do them any
favors. All things considered, while Rush got two records into this contest,
they really didn't hit their maximum stride and strength until the early '80s,
long after Love Beach had closed the doors on this particular
tournament's span of action. Focus 3 is the third (duh) album from
Dutch rockers Focus (double duh), the one on which they would and should have
(theoretically) capitalized on the pop crossover success of "Hocus Pocus" a
year earlier. And while "Sylvia" was a minor hit (compared to "Hocus Pocus,"
anyway), most of Focus 3 more closely resembled "Eruption," the monster
meltdown that filled the second side of Moving Waves, the album that
birthed "Hocus Pocus". "Answers? Questions! Questions? Answers" and "Anonymous
Two" are among the finest works Focus ever recorded, both of them long, but
totally engaging. Focus 3 marked the recording debut of what I consider to
the best of Focus' lineups, with bassist Bert Ruiter and drummer Pierre Van Der
Linden backing up Thijs Van Leer and monster guitarist Jan Akkerman. (That
lineup also recorded Live At The Rainbow a year later, which is one of
the greatest concert recordings ever, but wasn't included here because it
just featured live versions of other studio works, unlike One Live Badger
or Pictures At An Exhibition). Focus at the peak vs. Rush before they
hit their peak? No contest.
Winner: Focus, Focus 3
Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here vs. Family, Bandstand
Alright, I already committed one prog heresy today by dishing gravy on poor
Rick Wakeman, so let's go ahead and throw another one on the fire before Rick
finishes cooking. I find Wish You Were Here to be really dull and
boring for the most part. "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" would have been a
killer three minute song, but stretching it out in two chunks over the vast
majority of this album? Ehhhh . . . that's dull. I can also never really
bring myself to embrace Roy Harper's vocal turn on "Have A Cigar." It's a
good song, but Pink Floyd had three great singers at that point . . . so why
couldn't one of them have sung it? I don't know. Charity, I suspect. That
leaves "Welcome to the Machine" (which has cool synth sound effects, but not
much song meat) and the album's title track, which is definitely the high
point on the disc. All told, not one of the Floyd's more engaging moments for
me. Bandstand, however, finds Family's best line-up (Charlie Whitney,
Roger Chapman, Poli Palmer, John Wetton and Rob Townsend) firing on all
cylinders, hitting you upside the head with some great rockers and mood
pieces that are probably prog only because John Wetton plays on them, but,
hey, if you can get John Wetton to play with you, then you deserve to dance
at the Prog Ball. And if you can dance as well as Family does on Bandstand,
then you can even move on to the next round.
Winner: Family, Bandstand
Uriah Heep, Demons and Wizards vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
John Wetton played in Uriah Heep, too, but not on Demons and Wizards,
which stands as the mystical metalheads finest musical moment. Like most
great prog records, this one features a long epic suite, "Paradise/The Spell,"
several shorter, punchier numbers, including radio fave "Easy Livin'" and
lots of keyboards, courtesy Ken Hensley, who had also once played with
another prog titan, Greg Lake, in the Gods. Uriah Heep's biggest problem,
though, was their singer, David Byron, who had one of the more annoying
voices of '70s rock, making it hard to dig into this album (or any of their
others) with a whole lot of gusto and conviction. Genesis's Foxtrot? A
classic, with the side-long "Supper's Ready" standing as one of prog's
defining epic moments, a surprisingly moving fairy tale/allegory about
something or other and that and this, that despite its cryptic nature really
and honestly does build to an emotional, engaging crescendo, 20+ minutes
after it starts on a bed of sweetly picked 12-strings. Despite that side-long
epic, Genesis also managed a prog coup in not filling its opposite side with
toss of dreck: "Watcher of the Skies" and "Get 'Em Out By Friday" are both
muscular and exciting songs, though "Friday" has whiffs of the obnoxious
urban storytelling that would explode like a boil in "The Battle of Epping
Forest" a year or so later. Steve Hackett's "Horizons" may be one of the best
loved, tightest and most effective solo acoustic guitar numbers in the prog
canon (Steve Howe's "The Clap" from The Yes Album is the only one
popping to mind with a similar mix of dazzle and restraint packed into such a
small package). All told, you can't argue with Foxtrot this early in
the competition.
Winner: Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One vs. Camel, The
Snow Goose
This is the dodgiest pairing of the first round, frankly. Camel's The Snow
Goose is an wordless song cycle based on a story about, uh, a snow goose,
I guess. It teeters perilously close to John Tesh or Yanni country at times,
though its good moments are certainly better than anything those two hacks every
barfed up. H to He Who Am the Only One is dark, dense and difficult,
like most of Van Der Graaf Generator's material. It too, has its moments, but
instead of waiting for them to appear between spectral sonic goose down, you
have to wait for them to appear between dirgy walls of plodding organ and
honking horns. Plod plod plod. Dirge dirge dirge. When you step back from it,
though, at least nothing on H to He sounds like it could have been
performed at a Kenny G concert. That's sufficient to win this contest, since
Camel can't say the same.
Winner: Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One
Wishbone Ash, Argus vs. King Crimson, Red
I hear you thinking: twin lead guitar boogie rockers Wishbone Ash are prog?
Well, sure, because John Wetton played with them, although not on this album.
And, actually, that's not totally the reason that I included Argus. It
also has a warrior on the cover, in a cool helmet. That's very prog. And its
title . . . Argus . . . it's almost like Tarkus, and you can't
get more prog than that. But, seriously, Argus is the place where
Wishbone Ash was definitely at its most ambitious, songwriting and
performance wise, with some longish songs that aren't just jams and boogies.
Good ones, too. If you only own one Wishbone album, then this is the one to
have: "Time Was" and "Warrior" are among their best ever songs, and they are
about time and warriors, which are both very prog, indeed. John Wetton played
on King Crimson's Red, too, along with Robert Fripp and Bill Bruford,
in a kick-ass power trio format, like Cream with focus, or ELP with
restraint. Guest musicians (including prodigal founder Ian McDonald) add sax,
horn and string touches, but this is definitely the rockingest, tightest,
toughest (and last) album of '70s Crimson, with such classic numbers as "Red"
(one of only two '70s Crimson songs to remain in their live repertoire), "Starless,"
"Fallen Angel" and "One More Red Nightmare." Actually, that's the whole album
there, with the exception of the live improv "Providence," which is not
nearly as strong as the other numbers, even though it impressive to think
that it was created on the fly. There's no denying this record is a prog
classic. Even if it doesn't have a cool title like Argus.
Winner: King Crimson, Red
And with that, we have completed the first round! We have 32 survivors left.
Let's recap all four divisions, just so they're all in one place before we
move into the second round. (The summary of tonight's Syrinx Regional is
listed last, after the recaps of the other three).
The Slipperman Regional
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel
in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, The Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Kansas, Leftoverture vs. Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water
Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain
Salad Surgery
Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
The Wurm Regional
King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson
Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells
Kansas, Point of Know Return vs. Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw
Kommandoh
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile vs. Badger, One Live Badger
Jethro Tull, Aqualung vs. Focus, Focus 3
Family, Bandstand vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One vs. King Crimson,
Red
Next time I type, we'll start weeding things down to the Round of 16. In this
round, we start getting some head-to-head competition between the Big Six bands,
so the drama and difficulty will be greater, as some sacred cows are
definitely going to have to drop. Stay tuned.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Parts Six (Top Half
of the Bracket, Round Two) and Seven (Bottom Half of the Bracket, Round Two)
Okey doke, let's see if we can't get through half of the second round today,
making another pass through the Slipperman and Bostock Regionals. At this
stage of the game, we're going to start to see some heavy hitters going
toe-to-toe against each other for the first time. As we assess these records,
we will obviously be considering quality of material, but also their "progness".
We want the best prog record in each case, the record that best
complies with the basic characteristic tenets of progressive rock (as adapted
from Wikipedia's very good definition,
including:
1. Long compositions, often composed of shorter movements or pieces
2. Intricate narratives
3. Unified album concepts
4. Unusual vocals, instruments, time signatures, scales or tunings
5. Wide dynamic range
6. Solo spotlights, highlighting instrumental virtuosity
7. Incorporation of non-rock motifs
8. Links between visual and musical elements
9. Incestuous personnel swapping with other prog bands
That recap done, here's the slate for today's pairings:
The Slipperman Regional
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel
in the Gallery
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Steve Hackett, The Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Kansas, Leftoverture vs. Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water
Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain
Salad Surgery
Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
And here's the in-depth play-by-play:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Jethro Tull, Minstrel
in the Gallery
Minstrel in the Gallery's title cut may be the best, hardest song ever
created by merging rock structures with baroque or medieval musical concepts.
The song opens with an acoustic portion, (allegedly by a band of "strolling
players," performing for a Lord and Lady whose dinner guests are absent for
reasons unexplained), then morphs into a knotty, ballsy rocker, with a
fabulous transitional solo by Martin Barre. This is classic era Tull at their
toughest and tightest. A masterpiece. But, then, let's listen to In the
Court of the Crimson King's opening cut, "21st Century Schizoid Man." It's
equally knotty and dense, more abrasive and powerful, and far more
influential due to the fact that it came out six years earlier than "Minstrel,"
and probably provided at least indirect inspiration for that latter gem. Both
albums then proceed to veer between acoustic, melodic numbers and punchier
numbers, Tull's heavier songs being a bit more spry than Crimson's, but
without the same sense of menace and doom that the best bits of Court
provide. Several segments of Minstrel serve as essentially Ian
Anderson solo turns, while Court is the work of a fully integrated
band of equals throughout. Toss in one of rock's most recognizable and
startling album sleeves, and I think that tips the scale in King Crimson's
direction.
Winner: King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King
Gentle Giant, Octopus vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
No contest. Unlike Jethro Tull, Gentle Giant rarely manage to make their
baroque dalliances sound rough or tumble, much less rough and tumble.
Pink Floyd, on the other hand, is capable of rocking hard when they want to,
and on "Dogs" and "Pigs (Three Different Ones)," they do so with aplomb. Animals
is one of Floyd's "most prog" records in terms of its allegorical conceptual
structure, suite of long inter-related songs, amazing cover, and virtuous performances.
Roger Waters' pigs, dogs and sheep can eat Gentle Giant's octopuses for
lunch, and still have room left over for pudding.
Winner: Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Yes, The Yes Album
Oooo . . . this is a tough one. The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway is one
of prog's grand statements, a two-disc tour de force with a story-line
detailed not once, but twice: in the album's lyrics themselves, and in the
long gate-fold text included in the album. It features some of Genesis's
grandest songs, "The Carpet Crawlers," "it," "Back in N.Y.C.," "In the Cage"
and the stick-in-your-head forever title track. There are fantastic
instrumental performances by all four of the band's players, plus some
passionate singing from Peter Gabriel. It has some of the band's better
attempts at humor and real world social commentary. But, in the con
department, it's also got some padding, filler, and a serious clunker
(lyrically, conceptually and musically) in "The Lamia." The Yes Album (only
a single disc) has four truly spectacular long-form pieces: "Yours Is No
Disgrace," "Perpetual Change," "Starship Trooper," and "All Good People." It's
padded out by the nice enough acoustic guitar romp "The Clap" and the
superfluous and inferior "A Venture." I love the sound of this incarnation of
Yes, in their only record together: Jon Anderson, Chris Squire, Steve Howe,
Tony Kaye and Bill Bruford. Kaye's organ works so much better (to me, anyway)
with Squire and Howe's dueling strings than anything that Rick Wakeman
offered later (with the possible exception of some parts of Close to the
Edge, which we will discuss later). Still and all, though, as much as I
love The Yes Album, I think I have to nod toward Lamb . . . it's
certainly the "most prog" of the pair, and (probably) the better record
overall to boot. Even if you cut the fluff, you still have far more than one
single disc worth of fabulous material, which Yes couldn't quite fill
on The Yes Album. Just skip "The Lamia" when you play Lamb. You
won't be missing anything important.
Winner: Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
Steve Hackett, The Voyage of the Acolyte vs. Emerson Lake and
Palmer, Tarkus
I have a special fond spot for Tarkus, because it was the first prog
album I ever owned. I got it as a little kid not because I knew (or cared)
who Emerson Lake and Palmer were, not because I cared (or knew about)
progressive rock . . . but because of its way cool cover art, with an armed
and armored armadillo rolling across a rainbow colored plain. When I opened
it up, it got even better, as I got to see the armadillo being born from an
egg beneath an erupting volcano, then heading off into the big, bad world to
destroy a strange walking castle sort of thing, an armored pterodactyl and a
grasshopper-lizard-tank chimera. But, suddenly . . . watch out Armadillo! It's
the Manticore! Whoa! The Manticore used its spiny tail to scratch the
Armadillo's eye! But, phew, then the Armadillo becomes Amphibious and swims
away from the battlefield. Hooray Armadillo! He who fights and runs away,
lives to fight another day! You'll get that Manticore next time, I'm sure!
When I actually played the record, the titular first side suite provided
exactly the sort of music I would have expected for such an epic tale. It
sounded like animals and machine and machine animals doing all sorts of cool,
epic stuff. Awesome! I still get the willies when I hear it all these years
later, although more for the really stellar performances that the band gives
than for the story line at this point. Carl Palmer, in particular, plays
completely out of the box and over the top on this record, creating rhythms I've
never heard duplicated anywhere else, before or since. The second side of the
album generally gets slagged a bit, but to these ears it only suffers in
comparison to the first. Put it up against just about any other prog album
side, and it would be a winner. In fact, Side Two of Tarkus alone
would win over either side of Steve Hackett's worthy but over-matched Voyage
of the Acolyte. (Even though "Shadow of the Hierophant" sounds like some
lost segment of "Tarkus" . . . watch the Armadillo slay the Hierophant! And
its shadow! Woo Hoo!) Sorry, Steve.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
Close to the Edge marked the first time that Yes moved past the
10-minute mark to craft a side-long song, the album's title cut. On Thick
As A Brick, though, Jethro Tull trumped them with an album long song.
(Well, trumped them historically anyway, not chronologically . . . since Close
to the Edge came out five months after Thick As A Brick). How
successful were those long form forays? I think Yes's venture was quite
successful: "Close to the Edge" features four distinct movements, plus an introduction,
and their key themes are interwoven elegantly and concisely. You never feel
like you hit an awkward transitional moment, since the whole thing swims
forward in one consistent motion. And despite my Rick Wakeman phobia, he
actually offers an organ solo in the middle of "Close to the Edge" that is
superb, one of the best things he did with the band. Tull wasn't quite as
successful knitting the pieces together on Thick As A Brick: there are
several obvious, clunky points where you can hear the band (or at least Ian
Anderson) thinking "Hmmm . . . how do I make these two obviously separate
songs connect?" To its credit, though, some of the component songs on Thick
are really great, and for sheer visual progitude, you can't beat the original
release's fold out newspaper, with uniting story about young poet Gerald
Bostock (and his "friend," Julia), alleged author of the album's lyrics. Of
course, all that being said, I haven't even mentioned Close to the Edge's
best part: its two song second side, with the amazing "And You And I" and the
nearly perfect "Siberian Khatru" (marred only by a silly little baroque
harpsichord figure in its middle sections, courtesy Mister Wakeman). Add up
all three of those pieces on Close to the Edge, and you've got
something better, bigger and proggier than Thick As A Brick's single
song.
Winner: Yes, Close to the Edge
Kansas, Leftoverture vs. Chris Squire, Fish Out of Water
This one's actually a thought-provoking one: a very popular, hit record by a
full band at the peak of its powers, vs. a hard-to-find, low-selling solo
album by one of prog's greatest instrumentalists. Both have strong songs and
strong performances, and one of them (the Kansas one) even had a Top 40 hit.
(Oh, for the days when "prog" and "popular" weren't mutually exclusive!) I
guess in this case, as much as I like Chris Squire, and as much as I like Fish
Out of Water, I am inclined to lean in the direction of an album issued
from within a band's main canon, not an album that exists as a nice sidelight
and diversion. The general consensus on Fish Out of Water is that it's
the best Yes album that Yes didn't make. Which is true. But if Yes didn't
make it, and the best we can do is compare it to Yes, then that makes it
somewhat less endorsable than the Yes albums that are included in this
survey. I suspect that Mister Squire will be well represented in the rounds
ahead with his main band, where he belongs (he never did make another solo
album, so I think he knows that, too), and where he does his best work. Carry
on, Kansas.
Winner: Kansas, Leftoverture
Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain
Salad Surgery
Hmmm . . . I've been peaking forward and sort of dreading this match up,
since these two records are really titans not only of prog, but of rock music
in general. The Dark Side of the Moon was the winner of my Best of the Blockbusters
contest. It's a magnificent record, an impressive production, and a landmark for
listeners over the years since its release. It's a record that most musical
folks discover at some point in their lives, and one that they can happily
return to periodically when they need a refresher. It also features one of
the most distinctive album covers ever by the Hipgnosis team . . . although,
of course, Brain Salad Surgery's H.R. Giger cover creation is one of
the few rock images that could challenge it. While Dark Side is a
concept album composed of separate songs, Surgery offers one long suite
("Karn Evil 9") spanning a side and a quarter, plus a collection of shorter
numbers. The whole isn't bound by any obvious theme, although I've heard
people try to force one upon it: "It's about technology replacing nature!"
The second part of the first movement of "Karn Evil 9" is the album's most
famous chunk, (the "Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends"
bit), a surprisingly durable song, with a fun, timeless, very effective
lyric. The shorter songs offer a very effective synopsis of ELP's other
strengths and interests: classical interpretations ("Toccata," "Jerusalem"),
acoustic love songs from Greg Lake ("Still . . . You Turn Me On"), and their
weird/humorous views on bars, cowboys and the like ("Benny the Bouncer"). I
should note that ELP's sense of humor (or humour, as they'd probably write)
and love of cowboys is somewhat unique in the normally very serious prog
canon. You'd never imagine serious artistes like Yes writing about bouncers
or "The Sheriff," or covering "Hoedown". (Genesis might try it, but they'd
probably do it badly, since it's hard for such posh British school boys to
write about working class experiences in any meaningful way). While I suppose
that in the grandest scene, Dark Side is a better rock album than Brain
Salad Surgery, I think that Brain Salad is a better prog
album. It meets more of the criteria listed at the start of today's article.
ELP were thoroughly incestuous with other A-list proggers. And I have to
award a special star for that sense of humor bit. It's nice to see some
proggers not taking themselves oh so very seriously all the time. Let's give
this one to ELP.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Gentle Giant, The Power and the Glory vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
Gentle Giant may have named their album The Power and the Glory, but
it really doesn't offer very much of either attribute. As I've written about
each of their albums so far, I can never get past the fastidious, clinical,
fussy and prissy nature of their music. It's like listening to Felix Unger
trying to rock. I want more Oscar Madison in my music, dammit. While King
Crimson's Robert Fripp probably would self-identify more with Felix than
Oscar, he has surrounded himself with crews of beefy hard-hitters over the
years, with the Starless And Bible Black rhythm section of Bill
Bruford and John Wetton among the brawniest and most powerful of the bunch. Starless
blows Power completely out of the water, no questions asked, let God
sort 'em out. They sunk Gentle Giant's battleship, and quick.
Winner: King Crimson, Starless and Bible Black
That's it for today's tourney, leaving us with half of the Sweet Sixteen. The
next round's pairings will include:
The Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
Tomorrow we pick the bottom half of the Sweet Sixteen, culling the Wurm and
Syrinx Regionals down to four records a piece. See you then.
(Later That Same Day): Well, hey, what the heck. I got time on my
hands today. Let's finish this round. We've got the bottom half of the second
round to go, the Wurm and Syrinx Regionals. Here's the pairings . . .
The Wurm Regional
King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson
Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells
Kansas, Point of Know Return vs. Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw
Kommandoh
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile vs. Badger, One Live Badger
Jethro Tull, Aqualung vs. Focus, Focus 3
Family, Bandstand vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He Who Am the Only One vs. King Crimson,
Red
And here's the analysis . . .
King Crimson, Larks' Tongue in Aspic vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson
Lake and Palmer
The structure of these albums is somewhat similar: both feature six cuts,
each one sporting a 12-13 minute epic paired with five mid-length pieces.
Both mix a good selection of instrumental cuts with vocal cuts, and the
singing is very, very good on both discs (John Wetton handling the honors for
Crimso, former Crimson Greg Lake working the mic for ELP). Both are debuts,
of sorts, with "rock supergroup" overtones. ELP's ELP was actually
their first album, period, with the former Crimson, Nice and Atomic Rooster
players collectively introducing themselves to the world, while Crimson's Larks'
Tongue was the first record of the post-Sinfield era, with members of
early Crimson, Yes and Family making music together for the first time. Both
records are of exceedingly high quality, although each one features a song
that could have been either shortened or left off without diminishing the
quality of the overall product ("The Three Fates" by ELP, "The Talking Drum"
by King Crimson). Both records have big time prog pedigree, and both meet the
lion's share of the prog standards laid out earlier in this article. With all
of those ties, I find myself leaning slightly towards ELP . . . in large part
because these songs appear in their best formats and versions on ELP,
while the songs on Larks' Tongue are almost all available in superior
live versions elsewhere. But then I lean back towards Larks' Tongue
because it doesn't feature "Lucky Man," ELP's crossover pop hit that sounds
like it was written by a 12-year old. Which it was, come to think of it, by a
very, very young Greg Lake in his pre-King Crimson days. So I guess that kind
of makes it okay. Kind of. Or maybe more than kind of, since "Lucky Man"
serves very, very well as one of the key starter drugs of prog, the easy to
digest beginner's taste that opens the doors to all sorts of other darker,
deeper secrets and vices. It's got a cool early Moog solo on it, too. Hmmm .
. . this is a tough one. But I think I'm going to have to go with ELP here in
a squeaker.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer
Curved Air, Phantasmagoria vs. Yes, Relayer
For every squeaker, there's usually an offsetting rout. This one falls in the
latter category: the Patrick Moraz-fortified Yes makes all sorts of big,
impressive ugly noises on Relayer, exploring themes (musical and
otherwise) that they had never touched before, nor have touched since. I
mean, when peace-loving angelic elfin harpist Jon Anderson sings "Kill them,
give them as they give us, Slay them, burn their children's laughter, On to
Hell!" you know something weird and wonderful is afoot. Curved Air's Phantasmagoria is a delicious confection by
a clever and talented group, but it collapses like a soufflé when blasted
with the intensity of Relayer's harder bits. And, lest we get too
carried away in our Relayer-love, it is important to focus on
the fact that it's harder bits are the ones you want to hear here. Both sides
of this record peter out into sweetness at the end of their runs, with "Soon"
(an edit of "The Gates of Delirium") wrapping up Side A, and "To Be Over"
closing out Side B, and the record. Those are decent enough pieces, but they
also feel tame compared to what came before them. But, at this point, we are
not competing Relayer against itself, we are competing it against Phantasmagoria.
It wins that contest.
Winner: Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Mike Oldfield, Tubular Bells
Two epic, album-spanning tracks going head to head in this contest, one by a
great band hitting its maximum stride, one by a precocious whelp who plays
almost every instrument himself. The album's genesises (genesii?) are also
radically different: Mike Oldfield had been scheming and arranging the bits
of Tubular Bells for years before Richard Branson bankrolled him,
while A Passion Play was a quick re-write/re-record of some aborted
band sessions at France's Chateau d'Herouville. (The original sessions,
dubbed "The Chateau D'Isaster Tapes," were later issued on the Nightcap
compilation. They're not bad, but they're no A Passion Play either). To the
casual listener, Tubular Bells is the more familiar disc, having sold
far more copies, and having been featured prominently in the hit film, The
Exorcist. A Passion Play has to be familiar to someone, since
it was Tull's last chart-topping album in the States, and remains their best
seller to this day. If you believe most of the pundits and critics, though,
they bought it, listened to it once, and set it aside, preferring to listen
to Aqualung another 3,000 times instead. Which I believe to be their
mistake: while A Passion Play may not be the ideal album for Jethro
Tull fans who have certain expectations for what their heroes can and should
do, it's a great, unusual document when viewed in its own standalone light.
As mentioned earlier, it's the most synth and sax intensive record in the
Tull canon. It's two main, long movements (sandwiching the controversial "The
Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles") have a certain grandeur and
momentum to them . . . once they get going, they really don't give you a
satisfactory release/relief until they're done, sucking you along through
knotty, unresolved figures like some muscular Bach number, performed with
cojones, and not on a tinkly harpsichord by someone like, say, Rick Wakeman.
I think the humor of "The Story of the Hare" is one of A Passion Play's
redeeming qualities: it provides a palette-cleansing interlude between two
parts of a dark and serious story, whatever it may be about. (General
consensus: a man who dies, visits heaven and hell, and then decides he wants
to return to the world of the living). To his credit, Oldfield also knows how
to use humor in his composition, as Viv Stanshall's instrument introductions
and the drunken "Sailor's Hornpipe" sections lighten an otherwise intense
listening experience. These are both formidable records, rewarding repeated
listening. It's hard to pick between them, but I'm going to give the nod to A
Passion Play, judging the musical accomplishments of the discs to be a tie,
and giving Ian Anderson bonus points for his lyrics, the one element that
Oldfield neglected to add to his magnum opus. It's another squeaker, but one
I feel good about, results-wise.
Winner: Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Kansas, Point of Know Return vs. Magma, Mekanik Destruktiw
Kommandoh
Point of Know Return is prog for the masses, an accessible, melodic,
comprehensible disc with a hit ("Dust in the Wind") and songs that work well
within their album context, and when lifted out on their own for AOR or
random mix tape sampling. Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh is the
opposite: a dense album performed in an imaginary language, with fierce,
amelodic, off-putting melodies and rhythms that work best only when heard in
the context of the record itself. It's a powerful and potent listen, sure,
but it's a listen that requires some commitment and work. Well, actually, a
lot of commitment and work. Becoming a Magma fan is like becoming a
smoker: you have to really want to do it, since the first puff is going to make
you hack and gag a lot . . . and it takes a lot of hacking and gagging before
you get to a point where the addiction kicks in and rewires your brain to
accept the harsh substances you are subjecting your system to in order to get
your fix. While the instrumental prowess of Magma is probably greater than
that exhibited by Kansas (drummer Christian Vander, bassist Jannick Top and
vocalist Klaus Blasquiz are truly titans of their respective instruments),
the American group created something more lasting and universal by working
their ambitions into recognizable forms, without diminishing them in the
process. While accessibility is certainly not a requirement for great prog,
it's also not mutually exclusive . . . and if you can achieve accessibility
and quality in equal measures, then you've probably created something more
worthwhile than something that sacrifices accessibility completely in its
quest for quality.
Winner: Kansas, Point of Know Return
Yes, Fragile vs. Badger, One Live Badger
This one's not a rout, per se, since One Live Badger is a very good
Yes spin-off album, and Fragile is a very flawed Yes album . . . but
it's hard to come up with any viable argument that would place Tony Kaye's
short-lived '70s band in front of the band in which he made his greatest
commercial and critical mark (both in the '70s "Trooper" days and in the '80s
"Yeswest" days). While One Live Badger doesn't have the filler tracks
that mar Fragile (i.e. Bill Bruford's "Five Percent for Nothing," a name that
describes Bruford's songwriting royalty rate for a "song" less than minute
long that he didn't put a lot of time or energy into), it also doesn't have
any peaks approaching those hit on "Heart of the Sunrise" and "Long Distance
Runaround/The Fish". It's worth noting that Kaye went back to Yes years after
Badger had run its course. There was a reason for that, as a comparison of
these two records makes clear.
Winner: Yes, Fragile
Jethro Tull, Aqualung vs. Focus, Focus 3
While Aqualung is certainly the Jethro Tull album that generates the
most radio spins and the most shout outs when Tull plays in concert, it's
also certainly not their best disc. As mentioned earlier, the sound of this
record is really off-putting: if you listen closely, it sounds as if almost
all of the album's instruments were recorded on their own and then tracked
together. There's not a lot of interplay or warmth to this disc, not many
sparks being struck between the various players. Given this fact, the best
bits of the album tend to be the ones that feature Ian Anderson and his
acoustic guitar most prominently, since it sounds as though at least he was,
occasionally, really playing with himself (musically, that is). The album
also lacks in the bass guitar department, as Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond was
still coming into his own on that instrument after joining the band that
year. It's an influential record, sure, and a well-loved one . . . but it's
definitely a seriously flawed masterpiece. Focus 3's biggest flaw is
probably its length: it's an ambitious double disker, and some of the songs
on it could probably have been cut back or cut out. But when it comes to
actual performance, Focus 3 is all aces. You may not like the material
that much, or you may think it's too long, but the energy and musicianly
interplay on this record simply leaps out at you. This was a very talented
band, and a band whose members worked together very, very well. It's a better
made record than Aqualung, and one that its creators have not tended
to disavow over the years, the way that Ian Anderson often downplays and
poo-poos Aqualung. I'm inclined to agree with Ian in this case.
Winner: Focus, Focus 3
Family, Bandstand vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
While having John Wetton in your band is good enough to get you an invite to
the Big Prog Dance, it's not enough to get you a free pass to the inner
sanctum where the Prom Kings and Queens twirl and spin. Family's Bandstand
is a fine, blues-based album with prog elements woven into its short, strong
songs . . . but Foxtrot can meet every single one of the "what is prog"
criteria, and still have lots of extra prog left over to share with others.
If it was inclined to do, which, if it's like most Prom Queens, it probably
isn't. The Rutherford-Gabriel-Hackett-Collins-Banks version of Genesis was
never more on-target than they were on this disc, when they were all still
writing together, singing together, and playing together, rather than vying
for solos and credits as they did on later discs. Bandstand can't hang
with that, and is probably happier out underneath the bleachers smoking
cigarettes anyway.
Winner: Genesis, Foxtrot
Van Der Graaf Generator, H to He, Who Am the Only One vs. King
Crimson, Red
Robert Fripp plays on both of these albums. On Red, he's the musical mastermind
of a tight tight tight power trio. On the awkwardly titled H to He, Who Am
the Only One, he's a hired guitar gun for a band that lacked its own
electric six-string wielder. He shines on both records . . . but on the
Crimson disc, he's shining in a sympathetic setting, while on the VDGG disc,
he's shining up a dreary, droning disc of churning, swirling musical
turgidity. I'll take the disc where the guitarist has a full-time seat at an
elegantly set musical table, as opposed to being presented like a dessert
tray rolled out when you're already full of the starchy, doughy, salty meal
that you've been served out of a rough wooden trough.
Winner: King Crimson, Red
And there we have it . . . we're down a Sweet Sixteen! I print all eight of
the remaining competitions (repeating the Bostock and Slipperman regional
information) just so you (and I) have it in one, easily cut-and-pasted place
for tomorrow's contests.
The Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
The Wurm Regional
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile, vs. Focus, Focus 3
Genesis, Foxtrot vs. King Crimson, Red
Next time we play, we'll boil it down to the Elite Eight. See you then.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Eight (Culling
the Sweet Sixteen)
Today, we take our list of sixteen surviving albums and turn it into an Elite
Eight. Among the Sweet Sixteen, we've got representation from all of the
expected British big six, plus a couple of plucky American records and even a
Dutch import. It's all bands at this point; no solo records left. But that's
the prog way, really, so not too terribly surprising. At any rate . . . here's
the matchups:
The Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
The Wurm Regional
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer vs. Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
The Syrinx Regional
Yes, Fragile, vs. Focus, Focus 3
Genesis, Foxtrot vs. King Crimson, Red
The referee blows his whistle, the benchwarmers adjust their sports coats and
ties (capes aren't allowed in this league anymore under the new dress code),
and the game is on . . .
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Pink Floyd, Animals
Once again, the benchmark record of classic prog stares down another
formidable opponent in the form of Pink Floyd's dystopian fairy tale, Animals.
Both of these albums feature fierce virtuosity and startling sonic surprises.
Both were created by bands riven with tension, which bleeds through onto the
vinyl (or laminated plastic): the Crimson line-up that created In the
Court would never record together again, while Animals marks the
point where the balance of power within Pink Floyd shifted dramatically in
Roger Waters' direction, to the growing chagrin of his band mates. The
packaging of each of these two records is top notch and instantly recognizable,
with King Crimson's great red scream (courtesy Barry Godber) and Pink Floyd's
pig on the wing over Battersea Power Station (thanks to Storm Thorgerson and
his Hipgnosis partners). Both records have five songs running to a total of
about 42 minutes. Both are anchored by stellar guitar performances (Robert
Fripp vs. David Gilmore). Both have distinctive keyboard work (Fripp and Ian
McDonald's mellotrons vs. Rick Wright's echoed intro to "Sheep" and
scream-to-a-synth fades in "Dogs"). When all's said and done, though, I have
to lean toward King Crimson here, primarily because of the significantly
greater influence that In the Court had over the years . . . both in
terms of its sounds, and in terms of that Crimson line-up serving as one of
the primary feeders for the incestuous den of players that defined the heart
of prog in the '70s. Pink Floyd were self-contained and aloof in that regard.
King Crimson imploded enough times to spawn everyone from ELP to Foreigner
(but we won't hold that against them), and their core players appear on a
huge number of records included in the original 64 surveyed here. Influence
wins out over insularity in this case.
Winner: King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King
Genesis, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway vs. Emerson Lake and
Palmer, Tarkus
Wowzer. This one is tough. The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway is the last,
biggest offering from Peter Gabriel-era Genesis, a two-record rock fable with
some great, memorable songs and performances, while Tarkus finds
Messrs Emerson Lake and Palmer offering a mad stew of weird rhythms and
textures on their album's side-long title track, plus a diverse collection of
hymns and rockers on the B-side. Lamb features some guest knob
doodling from Brian Eno, while Tarkus was tracked by prog producer par
excellence Eddy Offord. Both albums are bass-drum-key heavy, since Greg Lake
didn't play a lot of guitar on Tarkus (the only classic ELP studio
album not to include a sweet acoustic Lake love ballad), and Steve Hackett
was beginning to be marginalized as a songwriter and player during Lamb's
production. (Some of Hackett's most memorable contributions to Lamb
actually sound more like keyboards than guitar, most especially on "The
Carpet Crawlers".) With two discs to sprawl over, Lamb certainly contains
a lot more filler and fluff than Tarkus, which can make it harder to
get through from a straight listening standpoint. Both records have some
silly/fun moments (ELP's "Are You Ready, Eddy?" vs. Genesis' "Counting Out
Time"), which is a good thing, to my ears, although some serious prog purists
would, I know, disagree. I guess I'm going to lean in ELP's direction in this
contest, penalizing Genesis for Lamb's much larger filler quotient
compared to Tarkus. At this level of the competition, instrumental
fluff and padding is no longer tolerable, particularly of the dull,
atmospheric, drifty variety exemplified by Lamb's "Hairless Heart," "Ravine"
and "Silent Sorrow in Empty Boats." Plus . . . there's "The Lamia". We can't
let that move on.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Kansas, Leftoverture
Kansas has had a relatively easy route in this bracket to the Sweet Sixteen,
not having had to face a Big Six band yet, as only Rush and a Chris Squire
solo disc stood in their path so far. The Americans luck runs out at this
stage of the contest, though, as their populist, popular prog runs head on
into the best product of Yes' Wakeman period, Close to the Edge. Sure,
Leftoverture offers an eight-minute, multi-part suite called "Magnum
Opus," but Yes actually deliver a magnum opus with Close to the
Edge's 19-minute title suite. Sure, Dave Hope and Kerry Livgren offer
some excellent bass and guitar parts on Kansas' behalf, but, come on, they're
going up against Steve Howe and Chris Squire in Yes, and this is one case
where Goliath isn't going to be felled by a little rock. (Heh heh . . . that
pun was unintentional. Heh. Heh heh.) Yes, Steve Walsh makes great organ and
keyboard sounds all over Leftoverture, but with Rick Wakeman playing
at his most tasteful and restrained on Close to the Edge, the Brits
even win that contest. Cinderella's glass slipper breaks here (unless, of
course, Kansas can pull one out in the other half of the bracket with Point
of Know Return).
Winner: Yes, Close to the Edge
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery vs. King Crimson, Starless
and Bible Black
Another tough one. Starless and Bible Black's best bits ("Fracture," "Lament,"
"The Night Watch" and, most especially, "The Great Deceiver") are among prog's
best and brightest moments . . . but this album has some inconsistencies and
flaws, due in part to its mixture of studio and live performances. "Starless
and Bible Black" (the song) is way overlong and not terribly exciting. (Note:
this is not the popular Crimson song that contains the chorus line "starless
and bible black" . . . that song is just called "Starless", and it appears on
Red). "We'll Let You Know" and "The Mincer" are pretty forgettable as
well, with "Trio" standing as the best of the improv pieces on this record.
Still . . . those first five songs are pretty good stuff, and having let ELP's
debut slip by Crimson's Larks' Tongue in Aspic yesterday, I'm a smidge
reluctant to let another album from Crimson's glorious '72-74 heyday go. But
try as I may, I can't really formulate an argument for Starless and Bible
Black being a better album (or even a better prog album) than Brain
Salad Surgery, which is at least consistent in tone and texture, and only
has one piece that might could have been excised by the filler police (the
second movement of "Karn Evil 9" . . . which is still better and more fully
conceived than "Starless and Bible Black"). Sorry, Crimso. I think ELP seems
to have your number in this tournament.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad Surgery
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Emerson Lake and Palmer vs. Yes, Relayer
As I've noted before, both sides of Relayer open with some of the most
ferocious, powerful music that Yes ever created, but both sides wind down to
more pastoral and peaceful (and less memorable) fare before they're done. The
slow bits aren't bad or filler, per se ("To Be Over" has a very nice
sitar-like guitar figure defining its key melody, plus some interesting slide
work from Steve Howe, and "Soon" has a memorable melody, it's just a bit dull
compared to the earlier parts of "The Gates of Delirium," from which it was
culled), but they are a tad lackluster compared to what came before them. ELP's
debut disc has similar problems in "Take A Pebble" and "The Three Fates": the
former meanders way further from its simple, sweet core song than it should
(although nowhere near as far as it does in some of its live versions, which
are way, way, way too long), while the latter song includes one great
Fate ("Atropos," the last one, with Palmer and Emerson dueling over a very
cool rhythmic and melodic structure), following two not as exciting Fates ("Clotho"
and "Lachesis," for those keeping score at home). Putting strength against
strength, we would pit ELP's "Knife Edge," "The Barbarian" and "Tank" against
Yes's "Sound Chaser" and first 2/3's of "The Gates of Delirium". Looked at
that way, Yes blows ELP out of the water: "Sound Chaser" is one of the most
thrilling things they ever produced (more great slide guitar from Steve Howe
cementing that position), while the battle sequence of "The Gates of Delirium"
is so over the top (in the good sense) with its tremendous layers of
manipulated tapes, weird guitar and keyboard sounds, clattering metallic
percussion and lance-like bass lines. The release when that section winds
down is powerful and palpable . . . which, of course, contributes to the
feeling of anti-climax when the "Soon" section begins. It resolves, but it's
more exciting before it does. I think that carries the day on this one . . .
and that Relayer marks the point where Yes began to pull in its
collective horns and play it a bit safer, first and foremost by firing
Patrick Moraz after it was complete and bringing back Rick Wakeman, who keyed
the lackluster Going for the One and Tormato albums that
followed. Yes had good moments after Relayer, but they never reached
quite as high again. ELP, on the other hand, laid a solid, innovative
foundation with their debut upon which they built something grander. We'll
take the flawed peak over the flawed foundation in this case.
Winner: Yes, Relayer
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play vs. Kansas, Point of Know Return
While I think most critics would cite Leftoverture as Kansas' best
album, I personally prefer Point of Know Return. "Dust in the Wind" is
right up there with "Lucky Man" as the entry pathway drug for new generations
of proggers, and "Point of Know Return" is one of the best busy-busy-keyboard
hits of the '70s. (You can hear it in your head, can't you? "How long . . .
deedle eedle eedle eedle eedle eedle ee . . . how long . . . repeat, etc.")
While Point of Know Return features a couple of clunkers ("A Portrait
(He Knew)" and "Hopelessly Human," which gets perilously close to bad
Styx/Journey country), it has a warm, inviting, enthusiastic sound that can
really get the blood pumping when you're in the mood for that sort of thing. A
Passion Play, on the other hand, is not quite as inviting . . . it has
some great hooks and performances, but they're woven into the skein of a
fabric that makes it harder to single them out (much less replay them in the
digital format, since most CDs track the whole album as one track). It also
has its dry moments, but nothing quite as dire as "Hopelessly Human." I mean,
no matter how much you might hate "The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles," there's
no likelihood you'll confuse it with something off of Kilroy Was Here
and Evolution, and its animal parable is certainly more prog in
context and execution than the nearly sappy power-balladry of Point of
Know Return's closing cut. I think A Passion Play also rises above
Point of Know Return in its scope and ambition, and in the layers in
which it can be appreciated: its lyrics, for instance, probably rank right up
there with "American Pie" for the amount of time high school and/or college
students have spent analyzing them. Kansas may have summed up their fairly
simple views on mortality in four moments with "Dust in the Wind," but Tull
managed to dedicate an entire album to the same theme. If you're gonna wrestle
with big concepts, I think it's best to wrestle with them in a big way.
Winner: Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Yes, Fragile, vs. Focus, Focus 3
I've said it before: Fragile is a seriously flawed Yes album, despite
containing two of the group's most popular pre-'80s cuts. The group had just
jettisoned organist Tony Kaye in favor of ex-Strawb key man Rick Wakeman, and
were working to incorporate him into the mix. The albums was produced quickly
to capitalize on the somewhat unexpected success of The Yes Album. To
fill space, each band member was given a solo track. Jon Anderson's ("We Have
Heaven") and Chris Squire's ("Fish") are interesting enough, but Steve Howe's
("Mood for a Day"), Bill Bruford's ("Five Percent for Nothing") and Wakeman's
("Cans and Brahms") are dull and dismal for the most part, adding nothing to
this record's success. That leaves "Roundabout," "Long Distance Runaround"
and "Heart of the Sunrise" (all of them good to great, especially the last
one) and "South Side of the Sky" (some interesting moments, but dragged on
way too long). This is the record that cemented Yes's legend (not to mention
Rick Wakeman's), but it's nowhere near the band's best offering. Focus 3
is, however, the best overall studio album that Focus created. (I'd vote for Live
At the Rainbow as their all-time best album, but as noted earlier, the
only live albums included in this survey are ones that don't just offer
different versions of studio songs originally issued elsewhere). It features "Sylvia,"
a worthy instrumental successor to earlier international hits "Hocus Pocus"
and "House of the King." It offers "Elspeth of Nottingham," an effective and
pretty medieval lute number than foreshadowed Jan Akkerman's solo album, Tabernakel,
where he explored such themes in longer, deeper form. While the structures of
the album's other songs are a bit more straightforward and rock-oriented than
what most proggers in this survey produced, the instrumental proficiency and
willingness to stretch boundaries is right up there with the best of them.
Plus they've got a flute player. That's always worth a bonus point in prog.
Winner: Focus, Focus 3
Genesis, Foxtrot vs. King Crimson, Red
Red has some of King Crimson's finest, most dramatic performances,
delivered by the only power trio in the group's long, knotty family tree.
There's not much filigree here, as Robert Fripp, John Wetton and Bill Bruford
hammer their way through four studio cuts and a live improv (which also
included violinist David Cross, who departed before the album's release).
Guest appearances by former Crim associates Ian McDonald, Mel Collins, Marc
Charig and Robin Miller lighten the load a bit, but not much. The band and
engineer George Chkiantz create a dense, claustrophobic atmosphere throughout
the record's run; it sounds as black and shadowy as the album's cover art. It's
a great record, but one with an obvious Achilles' Heel: "Providence," the
live improv. While I appreciate the chutzpah and nerve that it takes for
musicians to stand on stage and play together without a script, and while I
appreciate that some truly awesome moments come out of such performances, I
also can't help but notice that it usually takes a lot of time to get to
those big moments, and most of the build up is rarely as exciting as the
payoff. I actually enjoy "Providence" more when I hear it in the context of
other Crimson live improvs and performances, such as those contained on The
Great Deceiver box set. But stuck in the middle of this tight and punchy
studio album, it just doesn't work for me. I skip it pretty much every time I
spin Red. While Foxtrot has a couple of not-particularly-thrilling
moments ("Time Table" and the first 80% of "Can-Utility and the Coastliners,"
which ends well, at least), they don't leap out of the skein of the record
and demand attention, either positive or negative. They're part of the cloth,
and the cloth is solid and sound. I've got to pick Foxtrot in this
contest accordingly.
Winner: Genesis, Foxtrot
And then there were Eight! Here are next time's contests . . . when we boil
it all down to a Final Four. (Reminder: once we get to the Final Four, we
leave the regionals and pit all four records against each other, head-to-head
round robin style, to make sure we get the best of the best.)
The Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Emerson Lake and
Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional:
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad
Surgery
The Wurm Regional:
Yes, Relayer vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
The Syrinx Regional:
Focus, Focus 3 vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
And that's it for this episode . . . where I let go some albums that I really
loved. But, then, that's why I like doing these sorts of things. The process
makes me think about things differently, and look at music differently. That's
rewarding regardless of where I ultimately turn out.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Nine (And Then
There Were Four)
So this is the last of the single-elimination rounds, where we boil this
whole mess down into four finalists, who will compete round robin style for
the title of the Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever. The contenders are
. . .
The Slipperman Regional:
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Emerson Lake and
Palmer, Tarkus
The Bostock Regional:
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad
Surgery
The Wurm Regional:
Yes, Relayer vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
The Syrinx Regional:
Focus, Focus 3 vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
And here's how it all plays out . . .
King Crimson, In the Court of the Crimson King vs. Emerson Lake and
Palmer, Tarkus
Well . . . I suppose it's time we deal with the "Moonchild" issue, which I
haven't raised yet. The opening cut of In the Court of the Crimson King's
second side is certainly one of their classics. It has appeared on each of
the three major career retrospectives issued to date. On 1976's A Young
Person's Guide to King Crimson, "Moonchild" appeared with a running time
of 2:24. On 1991's Frame by Frame, it was a 2:26 long cut. That's the
same length it ran on the Buffalo 66 soundtrack as well. On 2004's The
21st Century Guide to King Crimson, Volume 1, it expands a bit, to 3:37.
But here's the rub . . . on In the Court of the Crimson King, it runs 12
minutes and 12 seconds, with a full title given as "Moonchild (Including The
Dream and The Illusion)". How does a nice little two or three minute long
song expand to over 12 minutes? With 10 minutes of fairly formless and
amorphous improv. That's more than half of the second side of this album.
And, frankly, it's not very exciting. (The best that can be said for it, I
think, is that it lulls you into a state of peaceful somnolence, making the
opening chord of "In the Court of the Crimson King" more powerful and
menacing . . . but that's a stretch). While Court contains three of
the most titanic cuts in prog history ("21st Century Schizoid Man," "Epitaph,"
and the title cut), plus one pretty effective folk-pop song ("I Talk to the
Wind," which is, to be honest, marred by some of the most moon-spoon-June
lyrics in the core prog canon) . . . it's still hard to ignore the big
emptiness that the last 80% of "Moonchild" tends to create on the record.
But, then, let's look at the second side of Tarkus: a whimsical
barrelhouse tune ("Jeremy Bender"), two excellent prog-rockers that sound
like out-takes from the group's solid first album ("Bitches Crystal" and "A
Time And A Place"), a two-part anti-church screed, complete with lots of fine
church organ ("The Only Way"/"Infinite Space") and the '50s rock homage "Are
You Ready, Eddy?" Many people view "Eddy," "Jeremy" and at least half of "Only/Space"
as throwaways. I don't agree, but for argument's sake, if you tally the time
of those cuts, you end up with about eight minutes. Still less dead time than
"Moonchild," and a whole lot more interesting, at least, even if it's not all
that challenging or stereotypically prog stuff. I have over-looked the "Moonchild"
dilemma thus far, but with a recent refresher listen fresh in my head, I can't
advance In the Court further because of it.
Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Emerson Lake and Palmer, Brain Salad
Surgery
This ELP album, like Tarkus, also features one long, multi-piece
suite, plus some shorter cuts. While the short cuts (in this case on Side
One, not Two) are generally viewed more favorably than Tarkus' are,
the long cut ("Karn Evil 9") doesn't generate quite the same excitement that
that "Tarkus" (the suite) does, largely because the second movement isn't
quite as exciting (musically) as the first and third are, and the third
movement has got some very dated, borderline annoying-stupid computer
talk/space opera stuff in it that would have worked better contextually on a
Hawkwind record than here. The first movement of "Karn Evil 9" is still aces,
though. It's popular because it deserves to be popular, not because it's
any sort of sell out or concession to the lowest common denominator. "Toccata"
is good, "Jerusalem" is very good, "Still . . . You Turn Me On" is one of the
best Greg Lake love ballads (which isn't an insult . . . he was very
good at love ballads) and "Benny the Bouncer" is, uh, piffle. But
entertaining and humorous piffle, I will give them that. I like to listen to
it, in other words, even though I know it's not very good. (When ELP issued
their obligatory three-disc live set after Brain Salad Surgery's tour,
they included the entire album, except for "Benny," so they probably knew it
was the weak link themselves, or at least out of place.) Close to the Edge
really doesn't have any weak links: it's got great performances by the
dependable Bruford, Squire and Howe, admirable restraint and teamsmanship
from Wakeman, and some of Jon Anderson's prettiest melodies and vocal
performances (with lots of harmony help from Squire and Howe, the secret
formula for making Anderson's tenor tolerable over long durations). "Close to
the Edge" (the song) is long, but it works very, very well, as the "I get up,
I get down" melody winds itself continually through a morphing, fluid set of
variations that never run long enough to become dull. The back side, as I've
written before, is positively sublime: "And You And I" and "Siberian Khatru"
are nearly flawless, great songs with great performances. Nothing sticks out
like a sore thumb . . . or, at least nothing on the original release. I won't
dock a record for the things that labels stick onto CD's in later reissues as
"bonus tracks," but I do feel that I need to note for the record that the Yes
version of Simon and Garfunkel's "America" is one of the most painfully bad
things ever recorded by any prog band, anywhere, ever. At least this one is
the short version, not the 10-minute plus one that appears on Yesterdays.
Man, oh, man, is this a bad, misguided cover song . . . in terms of content,
performance and arrangement. A stinker. But, as noted, I will not dock Close
to the Edge for it, since it wasn't part of the record that Yes
originally made. But if you buy the CD, be prepared to skip it, fast. The
three original cuts are much, much better, and don't include any songs about
space robots and bouncers going to heaven.
Winner: Yes, Close to the Edge
Yes, Relayer vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Relayer is nowhere near as consistent as Close to the Edge,
although it's high points ("Sound Chaser" and the first three-quarters or so
of "The Gates of Delirium") are among the greatest, hardest pieces of prog
ever recorded. It's hard, though, to ignore the relative dullness of the "Soon"
portion of "Delirium" and most of "To Be Over." They're well played, and have
nice melodies, but they're just sort of slow, and they just sort of go on and
on longer than they need to. Of course, lots of folks feel that way about A
Passion Play in its entirety. It's not really a friendly album,
with easy hooks, hummable tunes or catchy phrases to quickly grab your
attention and hold it. Except, of course, for the oft-dreaded "The Story of
the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles," which is overly friendly and simple and
silly as far as most proggers are concerned. As written before, I don't agree
with this assessment, particularly since I saw the film that accompanied this
piece in Tull's original stage performances of A Passion Play.
Watching narrator Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond grow horns and lead his animal
charges into a wild woodland bacchanalia makes the piece darker, and seeing
how it segued from and back into the "Forest Dance" sequence of A Passion
Play's main body made it clear that it's meant to be digested as a light
diversion between two acts of a deeper work. The contrast works for me, well,
both thematically and musically: the non-"Hare" parts of Passion have
a kinetic, propulsive energy to them, one that might have gotten tedious over
45 minutes without "Hare" plopped in as light intermission. It was a bold
stroke, and one that I applaud, not deride. I never get bored during A
Passion Play. I do during parts of Relayer. That settles it.
Winner: Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Focus, Focus 3 vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
I've certainly enjoyed carrying Dutch proggers Jan Akkerman, Thijs Van Leer,
Pierre Van Der Linden and Bert Ruiter this far in the contest, since I think
Focus tends to get over-looked by many prog fans for no other reason than
because they're (a) not English, or (b) actually had a hit song or three.
Focus 3 is a fine record, for sure, but it's the most straight-forward
rock/jam album left in the final eight, without many of the classical and/or
symphonic touches that define the best prog. When Focus play a really long
song, it usually has a melodic or rhythmic root that they essentially jam
over, although they do jam with more of a classical, virtuoso touch that most
of the ham-fisted American jam bands ever achieve. When most other prog bands
play a long song, it's less like a jam than it is like a symphony, with parts
laid out and performed per composition, not per the quick inspiration of the
moment in the studio. (Listen to the big live albums of the classic prog era
for proof . . . there aren't many accidental notes in most of the genre's
bigger musical pieces). And when you think of the classic prog era's big
musical pieces, there's no denying the power and punch of "Supper's Ready"
from Foxtrot, one of the most full realized, and yet stylistically
varied, side-long suites in prog history. The walk from gentle, minor-chord
acoustic guitars through the slapstick of the "Willow Farm" section to the
dark stomp of the "Gabble Ratchet" bits and on to the mighty resolution and
release at track's end is thrilling and, dare we say it, fun. "Watcher of the
Skies" is one of the genre's best mellotron-driven tracks not to appear on a
King Crimson record, with a twin bass-and-guitar riff that any number of hard
rock bands would have killed for. "Get 'Em Out By Friday" is a bit
overwrought lyrically, but it's a fine musical piece, and "Time Table" and "Can-Utility
and the Coastliners" don't do the record any irreparable damage (a la "Moonchild"
or "The Lamia"), although they don't really do it any favors either. Still
and all, though, there's not much sense arguing that Focus 3 is a
better prog record than Foxtrot. It's not. Period.
Winner: Genesis, Foxtrot
And there we have it. Our final four. Tomorrow (or maybe even later tonight,
if I feel so inclined and have the time), we will round robin these four
records against each other in six little mini-contests (six? yes, six . . .
because "A Passion Play vs. Foxtrot" is the same thing as "Foxtrot
vs. A Passion Play," etc.) In each mini-contest, there will be two points
to be earned: a winner gets two, a loser gets zero, in a tie, both get one.
We tally the points all up and the record with the most is declared the
winner. In the case of a tie, we go to a song-by-song comparison. Of course .
. . given that there aren't many songs on any of these albums, that might not
resolve it either, so if there's still a tie after that, we'll go back and do
a step-by-step look at the defining characteristics of prog, and use them to
pick a winner.
So . . . next time, we decide which of these four albums is the greatest
classic prog album ever . . .
Slipperman Regional Winner: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Bostock Regional Winner: Yes, Close to the Edge
Wurm Regional Winner: Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Syrinx Regional Winner: Genesis, Foxtrot
One more round! Stay tuned.
March of the
Mellotrons: The Best Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, Part Ten
(Conclusion)
The time has come, the walrus said, to write of many things. Well, not many
things, actually . . . just one thing: the best classic progressive rock
album ever.
A quick recap: we considered 64 albums released between the 1969 issue of
King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King and 1978's Love
Beach by Emerson Lake and Palmer, which I consider to be the beginning
and end points of the Classic Symphonic Prog era. For the most part,
non-symphonic prog groups (i.e. Canterbury, RIO, Krautrock, etc.) were not
included. Albums were judged for quality and for compliance with the tenets
of progressive rock, as modified from the excellent Wikipedia definition
of the same. Key tenets included:
1. Long compositions, often composed of shorter movements or pieces
2. Intricate narratives
3. Unified album concepts
4. Unusual vocals, instruments, time signatures, scales or tunings
5. Wide dynamic range
6. Solo spotlights, highlighting instrumental virtuosity
7. Incorporation of non-rock motifs
8. Links between visual and musical elements
9. Incestuous personnel swapping with other prog bands
At this point, there are four albums left:
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Yes, Close to the Edge
Genesis, Foxtrot
For the final four, we stage six round robin competitions, pitting each of
the surviving albums against each of the others. In each mini-contest, there
are two points at stake: winner gets two, loser gets zero, and if there's a
tie, both get one point each. At the end of the six round robin contests, the
album with the most points wins. If there's a tie, we look at the records on
a track by track basis (if possible or practical, since at least one of these
albums only has one song on it), or we look step by step at the prog
definitions and then make a quality judgment.
Got it? Good. Since each of these albums has been written about here five
times already, at this stage I won't get into a lot of detail each one; you
can find that by going back and reading the earlier rounds. This is judgment
time, not discussion time, except as needed to explain the judgments.
Before we get to that, though, just a little bit of macro analysis of our
four finalists. All four records were issued in a period of about two years:
Tarkus in June 1971
Close to the Edge in September 1972
Foxtrot in October 1972
A Passion Play in July 1973
I think this is a good indicator of prog's glory days: 1971-1973. When
innovation still reigned and before rote repetition and self-indulgence got
out of hand, before the record industry began grinding some of these bands
down with unreasonable requests for additional records, and before prog was
still considered rebellious . . . not something to be rebelled against.
Three of the four bands surviving were vocal-guitar-bass-drum-keyboard
quintets (although Tull's Ian Anderson and Genesis' Peter Gabriel also added
flute to the mix). The odd man out, ELP, featured drums, a
singer-bassist-guitarist and a keyboardist. So they essentially offered the
same instrumentation delivered by a smaller number of people. Keyboards were
essential to the prog sound, and the number and prominence of organs, Moogs,
Mellotrons and other keys on these four records is quite high; while Tull was
probably the least keyboard intensive band of the four, A Passion Play is without doubt their most key-heavy record ever.
Three of these records contain a side-long suite, and one of them (A
Passion Play) is a single album-long suite. Size mattered in prog,
clearly, as evidenced by the number of songs on these albums:
A Passion Play: 1 Song
Close to the Edge: 3 Songs
Foxtrot: 6 Songs
Tarkus: 6 or 7 songs (depending on whether you consider "The Only
Way/Infinite Space" as one or two songs)
ELP and Yes had clear family tree connections during the classic prog era
(King Crimson gifted Greg Lake to ELP, and Yes gave Bill Bruford to Crimson;
Keith Emerson played in the Nice with David O'List, who later played in Roxy
Music, produced by King Crimson/ELP lyricist Peter Sinfield; Eddie Offord
produced/engineered both Yes and ELP; the non-Emerson members of the Nice
played in Refugee with Patrick Moraz, who later played in Yes; etc.) Genesis
and Jethro Tull, while rich with the obligatory prog personnel flux, were
distinct from the Crimson/ELP/Tull family tree for the most part, although
Crimson's Robert Fripp worked with post-Genesis Peter Gabriel, where he met
future King Crimson bassist Tony Levin. Jethro Tull and Yes continue to exist
as fairly regular performing/recording units. ELP periodically reunited in the
'80s and '90s but appears to be dormant now. Genesis turned into one of the
world's most successful bands before self-immolating after Phil Collins left.
So, with those perspective points out of the way, here's how I assess the
final four albums:
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Tarkus is a seminal ELP album, one of their four great early '70s
studio masterpieces. With the exception of the Greg Lake love ballads, this
album represents everything that ELP was about and did, and in very good
fashion. A Passion Play is something of an oddball in the Tull canon,
one of only two album-length songs, with more synths and saxophones than any
other Tull album, and with the decidedly atypical "The Story of the Hare Who
Lost His Spectacles" (narrated by Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond) smack in its
middle. While an oddball record can certainly aspire to (and achieve)
greatness, Tull pulled in their creative horns pretty dramatically after this
record, and never made anything that sounded remotely like it again. Since
they themselves seemed to view it as a creative dead-end, while ELP mined
Tarkus' key elements twice more, successfully, it seems apt to give the nod
to the album that had a future, not the album that slammed a door. Bonus
points to Tarkus for tackling long form suites before Jethro Tull had done
so; if there were any moments of inspiration occurring between these bands,
it's clear which way they were flowing. ELP wins.
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus (2 points)
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play (0 points)
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus vs. Yes, Close to the Edge
This is a tougher match up, with ELP and Yes both offering powerful, fully
conceived records, each with a side-long suite. I consider "Tarkus" (the
song) to be better than "Close to the Edge" (the song), but consider the
b-side of Close to the Edge (the album) to be better than the b-side
of Tarkus (the album). Instrumentally, I think Keith Emerson and Carl
Palmer take the cake over their counterparts in Yes (Rick Wakeman and Bill
Bruford) on these discs, while Yes's Chris Squire and Steve Howe out
bass-and-guitar poor over-worked Greg Lake. Vocals? Again, Lake handled all
the duties himself on Tarkus, while Jon Anderson, Squire and Howe
split duties on Close to the Edge. They're very, very different: Lake
is one of the great baritone belters of the era, while Anderson is clearly
the King of the High Pitched Rockers. I don't see any clear edge or Achilles
Heel in this one, so I'm calling it a tie.
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus (1 Point)
Yes, Close to the Edge (1 Point)
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
In this case, I would say that Genesis wins the long competition, with the
sublime "Supper's Ready" edging out the hyperkinetic "Tarkus." On the
short-song sides, though, I think Tarkus stomps Foxtrot, which
offers but one really great song ("Watcher of the Sky") to ELP's two ("A Time
and a Place" and, most especially, "Bitches Crystal"). Nothing on the
short-song side of Tarkus is as twee and feh as Genesis' "Time Table,"
not even "Are You Ready, Eddy?", which at least wins points for gutter humor,
as opposed to the too-too-smart school boy humor of "Get 'em Out by Friday."
Advantage ELP.
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus (2 points)
Genesis, Foxtrot (0 points)
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
Yes takes this one cleanly, I think, as "Close to the Edge" (the song) wins a
squeaker over "A Passion Play" (the main, non-"Hare" bits), having better
structure and core melodies, and a much better production. (A Passion Play
is a bit muddy, even on restored/remixed issues, and never soars like the
best parts of Close to the Edge). And as much as I like "The Story of
the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles," and as much as I appreciate the chutzpah
the band evidenced in putting it in the middle of this dark album, it can't
hold a candle to either "And You And I" or "Siberian Khatru," leaving Yes the
clear winner here.
Yes, Close to the Edge (2 points)
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play (0 points)
Yes, Close to the Edge vs. Genesis, Foxtrot
Likewise in this contest: I give "Suppers Ready" a slight nod over "Close to
the Edge," but then I bounce "And You And I"/"Siberian Khatru" against "Watcher
of the Skies"/"Time Table"/"Friday"/"Can-Utility"/"Horizons", and Yes clearly
wins the contest, hands down and undirtied by undue strain or effort.
Yes, Close to the Edge (2 points)
Genesis, Foxtrot (0 points)
Genesis, Foxtrot vs. Jethro Tull, A Passion Play
This one's more of an even contest: "Supper's Ready" is probably the best
piece of music to be found on either of these discs, but nothing on "A
Passion Play" plumbs to the depths of "Time Table," not even "Hare," (which
is at least funny in its sappiness, unlike the Genesis number). Both albums
feature quality keyboard performances, both albums find their unusual singers
making the most of their untraditional voices, Jethro Tull has the better
flute and sax parts, Genesis has the better guitar and bass parts, Barriemore
Barlow and Phil Collins drums to a draw. As does this contest, I guess, since
nothing raises or lowers one of these records dramatically above or below the
other.
Genesis, Foxtrot (1 point)
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play (1 point)
So . . . where does that leave us when we total points? Do we have a winner?
Emerson Lake and Palmer, Tarkus: 5 points
Yes, Close to the Edge: 5 points
Genesis, Foxtrot: 1 point
Jethro Tull, A Passion Play: 1 point.
Foo. No we don't have a winner. I guess I'm going to have to break the tie
between Tarkus and Close to the Edge after all.
Looking at the track listings of these records, it's kind of pointless to do
a side-by-side song comparison, since Close to the Edge only has three
songs to Tarkus' six or seven. If I break the long songs down in to
their named constituent elements, it gives Yes nine "songs" and ELP 13 or 14 "songs".
But it seems silly to compare the third movement of "Tarkus" ("Iconoclast")
to the second movement of "And You And I" ("Eclipse"), since its not always
really clear where one movement stops and another starts, and since no one
ever listens to any of these movements on their own, for the most part. (With
the possible exception of the single edit of Yes' "Total Mass Retain," from
the "Close to the Edge" suite).
So lets look at our prog defining characteristics and see if that helps. If
it doesn't, then I guess I just have to make a choice . . .
1. Long compositions, often composed of shorter movements or pieces
Both Tarkus and Close to the Edge meet this criteria hands
down, with each album having a side-long song, each of which is divided into
shorter pieces. I'd give them both one Gold Star for this category. (ELP:
1 gold star, Yes: 1 gold star)
2. Intricate narratives
I actually don't think I'd give either band a point here, since neither Tarkus
nor Close to the Edge are particularly wordy albums, or offer any
discernable lyrical thrust or theme. While Tarkus' album cover tells
the Armored Armadillo story, the lyrics of the song itself don't really match
or support the story particularly, with the possible exception of the "Battlefield"
segment . . . but that talks about people, not armadillos. Both ELP and Yes
demonstrated dramatically more intricate narratives on other albums, but
neither one does it here. No points. (ELP: 1 gold star, Yes: 1 gold star)
3. Unified album concepts
Again, neither album can really nail this requirement; Tarkus gets closer
with its A-side suite than Close to the Edge does, but it's b-side covers a
gamut of topics, none of them related to armadillos. When it comes to
concepts on Yes albums, your guess is as good as mine . . . for the most part
(and Tales From Topographic Oceans is the obvious exception here), the
words they sing sound beautiful, but when you read them on the printed sheet,
they don't jump up and say "Hey! This is an album about religion!" or "Yo! We're
talking about death here". Compare Tarkus
and Close to the Edge to Tull's A Passion Play for confirmation: that
album had a unified concept, these two don't. No points awarded. (ELP: 1
gold star, Yes: 1 gold star)
4. Unusual vocals, instruments, time signatures, scales or tunings
I don't know that I'd call Jon Anderson's voice unusual, per se, but it is
certainly very, very recognizable, and that would seem to be close enough.
Greg Lake is more straightforward, but Tarkus has far more unusual
time signatures and instrumental sounds than Close to the Edge does,
so much so that Greg Lake actually threatened to walk out of the recording
sessions if Emerson and Palmer didn't stop writing things in 10/8 time. Good
thing he didn't. They each get a gold star here. (ELP: 2 gold stars, Yes:
2 gold stars)
5. Wide dynamic range
Yep, they both nail this one too . . . both albums start off with
quiet-to-loud blasts, and there are plenty of crescendos and diminuendos and
pianos and fortes and other Italian words that tell you that things get up
(in volume), and get down (in volume). Gold stars all around. (ELP: 3 gold
stars, Yes: 3 gold stars)
6. Solo spotlights, highlighting instrumental virtuosity
Duh. (ELP: 4 gold stars, Yes: 4 gold stars)
7. Incorporation of non-rock motifs
Both Yes and ELP delved heavily into classical music at times . . . but not
on these two records. Both of them periodically ventured into jazz . . . but
not on these two records, except for maybe the Mahavishnu Orchestra-esque
intro to "Close to the Edge," and the atypical rhythms of "Tarkus". World
music and blues elements made appearances on some ELP and Yes records . . .
but not these two. Pretty much everything on Close to the Edge and Tarkus
is recognizable as straight-up rock music, gussied up to various degrees,
with the exception of the church organ solos that both of them offer. Except
for those organ bits, you could hand these records to unimaginative bar band
and everything on them could be pretty readily stomped into 4/4 dullness. It's
the vibrancy of the performances that carry these albums, not the nods copped
from other musical traditions. No stars. (ELP: 4 gold stars, Yes: 4 gold
stars)
8. Links between visual and musical elements
Roger Dean's second album cover for Yes on Close to the Edge? Check.
Giant armadillo story on the cover of Tarkus? Check. Gold stars for both. (ELP:
5 gold stars, Yes: 5 gold stars)
9. Incestuous personnel swapping with other prog bands
As noted at the start of today's piece, ELP and Yes were pretty much at
ground zero for the incestuous pool of players that defined prog's classic
era. Can't withhold any gold stars here. (ELP: 6 gold stars, Yes: 6 gold
stars)
And, uh, well . . . double foo. That was an unhelpful waste of time, wasn't
it? So I suppose I'm just gonna have to reach down in my gut and pull a
winner out here . . .
Thinking . . . thinking . . . thinking . . .
I'm thinking . . . .
The winner of the
best classic prog record of all time is . . .
Tarkus,
by Emerson Lake and Palmer
. . .
. . . with a very honorable mention to Yes' Close to the Edge.
Why do I pick Tarkus between these two? Because it feels better in my
gut to do so, even though I have to chuckle at the fact that Tarkus is one of the rare
Mellotron-free classic prog records, given the title of this essay. (Maybe I
need to change it to "March of the Moogs"?) And also because Emerson Lake and
Palmer have somehow become for Progressive Rock what the Bee Gees were for
Disco: when it became hip to scorn those musical movements, those two acts
became the poster-children for the movements' perceived failures and
shortcomings. I mean, hey, I even did it myself here . . . citing Love
Beach as the death knell of prog's classic era. Need a good prog chuckle
to show your post-punk cred? Just toss off an ELP joke, and all the indie
rockers will smirk appreciatively. Or want to wrap up the entire disco experience
in two words? Try these: "Bee" and "Gees."
So what does this have to do with the price of tea in China? It's a justice
issue for me to pick Tarkus here,
since I think that the disdain in which ELP (and the Bee Gees) have been held
for so long makes it hard for their records to get a fair shake anymore. The
assumption tends to be that if Love Beach (or Saturday Night Fever)
is such a joke now, then everything those acts did before must somehow be
tainted with a whiff of mockery and pending failure.
Thing is . . . the things that came before those cultural turning points were
amazing, from both ELP and the Bee Gees. And of ELP's incredible first four
studio records (ELP, Tarkus, Trilogy and Brain Salad Surgery), Tarkus
is the most stellar, an eclectic, experimental tour de force that covered
everything from glanky moog solos in 10/8 to stompy little rockers about the
band's sound man ("Are you ready, Eddy? To pull those faders down? Eddy, edit
. . . Eddy, Eddy edit"). In between those poles, there are two classic prog
songs with some of the most passionate singing in the genre ("Bitches Crystal"
and "A Time and A Place"), plus a tight little religious musing (what Ian
Anderson needed an album side to cover, Greg Lake did in 3 minutes with "The
Only Way"), a sprightly and short number with a memorable melody and goofy
lyrics that could have been written by Peter Sinfield, except that he hadn't
joined ELP yet ("Jeremy Bender").
Tarkus is far more fun than Close to the Edge, and while
"fun" or "humor" (or "humour") don't appear on the prog criteria list, I
think they're admirable qualities for a genre of music that tended to take
itself far too seriously. I like a band that can laugh at itself
occasionally, and ELP did so regularly.
I also appreciate that in their three-piece format, ELP's players were far
more exposed musically in the studio and in concert than were the member of
their five-piece brethren bands. Carl Palmer is a marvel on Tarkus,
carrying these complex songs with true aplomb. Keith Emerson is actually less
flashy and solo-oriented here than he was on other records, and also more
self-contained and creative as a composer: there's not a single song on this
album that has a co-credit by a classical composer, for instance, unlike all
of the other ELP albums up to Love
Beach. The synths
and organs on Tarkus still sound bizarre and wonderful, and the
strange adventures in rhythm that Emerson and Palmer developed on "Tarkus"
are fresh to this day, and not often imitated. Greg Lake
does yeoman service as the band's utility infielder, laying a great guitar
solo here, dropping a complex bass line there, offering emotional resonance
with his strong singing every time the record's instrumental forays get close
to over-staying their welcome.
In short, while they've become a laughing stock of sorts over the years for
people who don't believe that it's necessary to be able to play your musical
instruments well, Emerson
Lake and Palmer were a
great band in their heyday, and a band whose popularity was well and fully
deserved. Yes, by the time Love
Beach came around,
they were fried, and forced by their label to make a record they didn't want
to make. But at their peak, they exemplified the best of what progressive
rock was all about . . . and Tarkus is their signature moment.
Not to mention the Greatest Classic Progressive Rock Album Ever, as judged
and certified by the Flexible Tetragrammaton system of dissection,
examination and evaluation.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I always appreciate that. And, as
always, your feedback is welcome . . . as
long as it comes in some form other than "Dude! ELP SUCKS! AND YOU DO TOO!"
You can do better than that.
Other Musical Dissections by J. Eric Smith:
The Worst Rock Band Ever
Or . . . Rock's Greatest
Secret Band
Or . . . Best of the
Blockbusters
Or . . . Slaughtering the
Sacred Cows
Or . . . March of the Mellotrons
Or . . . Flexible
Tetragrammaton (The Blog)
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