THE WINDOW OF LIFE

I revisited "The Window of Life", this venerable classic, as I was somehow placed in a nostalgic mood for some outer-worldly experience that would relax my body and indulge my mind in unassuming fantasy. Pendragon needs little introduction, a fellow consolidator of the prog ideal at a lonely time in rock history, to be perfectly polite. 1993 was a revolutionary period, with very little excitement in terms of music, listening to stuff like still great Tangerine Dream, Oldfield doling out the Crises album, Saga's Heads or Tales and Solstice(prog) but precious little else, until the now-mythical "Script of A Jester's Tear" was unleashed on a totally unsuspecting public later in the year . Pendragon leaped to such higher echelons with this Pink Floyd meets Genesis album, a vehicle for Nick Barrett and Clive Nolan to make their music come hell or high water, a stand for which they were both adored and reviled. Finicky market. The fuse was lit and much to the chagrin of all the prog-rock haters (and trust me, there were many at the apparent funeral, spitting gobs of vitriolic abuse), the inevitable renaissance of prog was underway.

On the sleek "The Walls of Babylon", the lads even had the audacity to quote Supertramp's "Hide in Your Shell", a ballsy move that could have cost them a few quid had Hodgson and Davies been greedy bastards. While the sound certainly owes a lot to former icons, truth is the material was expertly played and muscularly delivered, conscious of the rock ethos needing to be preserved. Bassist Peter Gee and drummer Fudge Smith certainly pounded hard and fast when prompted, leaving Nolan's keys and Barrett's axe do all the brain damage. On the moving "Breaking the Spell", the fret-meister goes on a nice elongated foray, nothing too technical but oh so loaded with emotional discourse. A little hint of wah-wah and some spirited soloing really gets me every time, even 20 years later.

Epic monuments you ask, "The Last Man on Earth" is a nearly 15 minute colossus, with explosive vocals from Mr. Barrett (who never sounded better, before or after), mammoth Nolan symphonic bombast and mobile rhythmic agility from both Gee and Smith. This is, simply put, eternal and utterly fabulous, loaded with incredible imagery, dense space for contrast and breath, featuring glittering soloing, I mean the whole nine yards. Details, details, Watson! Slipping in some delectable harmonica, soothing backing vocal choir and some more overbearing emotions just steals the show, a true classic. The final earthshaking solo is gorgeous. In all honesty, this ought to have been the final cut (Oops!, sorry Roger), ending the album on an orgasm. "Nostradamus ?Stargazing" should have been inspiring with such archetypical prog subject matter but suffers from having to compete with the previous megalith, an unfair positioning makes this song seem weak in comparison. Guitar manipulations take their time in setting the controls to the heart of the song, but it's a fine diversion, The poppish texture should be more exciting in a live setting (in fact, Pendragon likes to do this in concert) but it's the necessary cream between the cookies. The final piece "Am I Losing You?" is delectable , a Pendragon ballad that finds itself drenched in serious bluesy affectation, a simple story that searches out all the questions we all ask ourselves, about love, life and the impossible pursuit of happiness. The Steve Howe ?like guitar motif sounds like a slip from The Gates of Delerium, these are clever lads indeed, reminding me of that classic Picasso quote "a good artist copies, a great artist steals", a little nasty perhaps but oh so true.

The upcoming Masquerade Overture remains my favorite Pendragon album, though I must admit I have lost interest after that. Maybe I should investigate, my dear Watson?

4 Panes of existence