Prog Britannia - Album Reviews

School's Out for Summer, School's Out Forever, or seemingly forever anyway during the stringent coronavirus lockdown of 2020. We're heading back to school now though for "Schooldays", the first song on the album. The band have managed to purify some melodic prog gold with this first tempting nugget of old school prog. This delightful nostalgic tune is a world apart from the "Skool-Dazed" crashing guitar sound of overgrown schoolboy Angus Young of AC/DC fame. No, this charming song is as gentle as the sweet summer air on a Sunday morning with the birds singing and the church bells ringing. The music features the gentlest of guitar melodies combined with a honey-toned singer and with the percussionist firmly establishing his proggy credentials here with a tricky offbeat time signature. "Schooldays" may not necessarily be the best days of our lives, but this pleasurable opening number will conjure up fond 1970's memories of flowers and flares and birds and beads. It's time now to wallow in some more nostalgia for the gently acoustic mournful opening to Song No. 2: "The Old Man Dying", which might sound as peaceful and relaxed as a couple of dozen pensioners on a restful Saga holiday in Torquay, at least to begin with, but there's life in the Old Man yet, as the deceptively quiet opening serves as a prelude for a bunch of party-going Club 18-30 lager louts to come noisily gatecrashing onto the scene with some heavy slammin' electric guitar chords and pounding percussion, before a return back to a Sea of Tranquility for the conclusion. This stunning four-part piece of music also features a surprising classical Bach-style piano interlude for good measure too, but then again, the wondrous worlds of classical music and prog have always been closely intertwined, ably demonstrated by such classical Wizards of the Keys as Rick Wakeman, Jon Lord & Keith Emerson. If piano maestro J. S. Bach were alive today, he could probably earn a good living as a classically-inspired, Prog-Rock keyboard player. A Krautrock trio of Bach-man Turner Uberdrive perhaps? B-b-b-baby, You ain't heard nothing yet! Anyway, moving swiftly on, there's no better way to pass the time than with our third song, "Time Passes By", a short instrumental interlude which sounds as cool and laid-back as Detective Captain Steve McGarrett (Jack Lord) turning up at a murder suspect's address in a Hawaiian shirt and saying, "Book him, Danno, Murder one!", before heading down to Waikiki Beach with a surf board tucked under his arm. Onto Song No. 4 now with "The Old Man Calling (Save the People)", which sounds like a curious combination of off-kilter Canterbury Scene music mixed in with the Southern Rock guitar sound of the Allman Brothers Band, so you can expect the unexpected with this intriguing jazzy piece of music. Who knows what unusual time signature this offbeat tune is played in, but it's definitely not regular 4/4 time. Get ready to hunker down now and prepare for an all-out Sonic Attack for "The Disaster", a crashing discordant dissonance of sounds that hits the listener like a storming salvo of Katyusha rockets. This crazy Bats in the Belfry bedlam is all-fired-up with the maniacal intensity of an open day at a lunatic asylum. It's madder than an albino in a white suit hitch-hiking in a snowstorm. There's a return to some kind of sanity now for "The Sun's Revenge", a two-part piece, opening as an uptempo syncopated Funk-Rock groove about the ravages of time wreaked by the Sun on unprotected skin, which might serve as a timely reminder for us all to slap on some suntan lotion or wear a hat the next time we're out in the summer sunshine. The mellower second part of "The Sun's Revenge" features a moody and magnificent acoustic jamboree of tinkling keyboards and jangling acoustic guitars, which sounds as gentle as a ballerina gracefully extending one slender leg en-pointe behind her, a bit like a dog at a fire hydrant. The music's great, but you may struggle to understand the lyrics in the first part of this song, where the vocabulary sounds as bad as, like, whatever...

We're back in Allman Brothers territory again (in the style of "Jessica" - the Top Gear theme) for "A Secret to Keep", which captures the American Southern Rock sound perfectly, only without the steamy oppressive heat, the alligator infested swamps and the pesky mosquitoes down in the bayou. The singer barely has time to catch his breath in this brief fast-paced number before we're into Song No. 8: "The Brass Band Played". This is a fun piece where the band members sound like they're having a right old knees-up with lots of cheering and clapping in the background as a hearty brass band beats out a typical marching rhythm, as brass bands up and down the land are wont to do. The Salvation Army will be "Coming 'round the Mountain" with a collection plate any time soon. We're in celebratory mood now for "Rejoicing", a Funk Rock groove that's flying high on adrenalin like Tom "Maverick" Cruise lighting up his afterburners with a burst of testosterone in a twin-jet F-14 Tom-Cat. The next song "The Disaster Returns (Devastation)" continues where "The Disaster" of Side One left off, so you can expect more Looney Tunes madness and mayhem to ensue in a non-stop fusillade of machine-gun percussion and lightning- strike electric power chords from the crazy fired-up guitarist. This manic song barrels along relentlessly for eight minutes with all the power of a runaway diesel locomotive thundering down the tracks, but be prepared for a major derailment at the end. Onto the penultimate song now with "The Death of the Alchemist", a suitably haunting and mournful refrain featuring shimmering sound effects in the spooky opening. Hang on a minute though... What's this!?? It's not all doom and gloom as the song emerges like a beautiful butterfly from a chrysalis into a rousing and anthemic prog classic in all of its glorious majesty and magnificence. The Prog Gods will be graciously appeased. The third and final part of this four and a half minute epic features a cascading cacophony with the sound of echoing church bells in the background adding an extra touch of drama to the grand occasion. Time marches on as the tale of "The Alchemist" draws gently to a close now with the title track. This is prog gold! The song opens as a deceptively gentle acoustic Folk-Rock ditty, but this first impression is soon shattered by a storming gale-force blast of heavy keyboard prog in the style of King Crimson and Emerson, Lake & Palmer at their very best. This powerful soaring album highlight reaches Force 9 on the Beaufort Scale and has all of the surging symphonic splendour of "The Court of the Crimson King". In fact, the closing song is as pleasantly surprising and uplifting as walking straight into a supermarket during the 2020 coronavirus pandemic, without having to queue for ages outside, and then finding all of the shelves are fully stocked once you get inside the store. Improbable, but not impossible.

"The Alchemist" will make you feel right at Home with this solid helping of pure prog gold, hammered out and fashioned on the anvil of Eclectic Prog. This terrific long-lost album would make a welcome addition to your treasured Prog-Rock collection, but the chances of actually finding this rare album in the record stores are about as remote as winning a medal in a Communist marathon. On your Marx...

BOOM!! Apocalypse Now! "And in the Beginning" opens ominously to the apocalyptic sound of an atomic explosion, followed by a distant lonely organist, playing what sounds like a feeble budget-priced Bontempi organ. The haunting music conjures up a stark and forbidding image of an irradiated desolate landscape - similar to a typical day during the coronavirus lockdown - where the chances of coming across another living person are about as remote as finding a moderate member of the Taliban in Afghanistan. Mullah Lite, perhaps? It's not all doom and gloom though, as there's some Man-sized prog on the way. Forget the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. These are the Five Welshmen of Man, and they're charging right at you with all guns blazing. Take a look at the powerful message contained within these portentous lyrics:- "The ageless face of time, Smiles carefree and is gone, And in its wake leaves nothing, Save future yet to come, And out of fire and time, A world is born and lives, A world still young and virgin, Its face yet to be scarred, And they created man." ..... This Psychedelic/Space Rock extravaganza is a real blast! The music features a triumphal marching rhythm with some hippyish Good Vibrations from the spaced-out psychedelic guitarist. There's also a sombre organ and spoken word passage thrown in for good measure too, giving the music a sense of added drama and gravitas - just like the newsreader back in 1969 who had to keep a seriously straight face when he announced that the Vietnamese villages of Phuoc Me and Ban Me Tuat had just been bombed by the American airforce. Maybe the newsreader had a few choice words of his own for his news-team after being given that particular story to read out.

Bursting onto the scene now is "Sudden Life", a quite extraordinary two-part song that opens as a basic British Blues number with a pounding rhythmic 4/4 beat, but then goes completely off the rails - a bit like this album review - and descends into a Crazy Train acid trip to hell and back. The music's crazier than rats in the attic nibbling on a diet of Bananas, Fruitcake and Nuts, not to mention the maniacal singer who sounds like he's away with the fairies in a straitjacket. The men in white coats are coming to take him away, Ha-haaa! Next, we hear the long-drawn-out echoing cry of H-E-L-L-O-O-O from a man in an "Empty Room", which just happens to be the title of the third song on the album, appropriately enough. On the contrary though, it turns out "Empty Room" is a fabulous Full House of scintillating Psychedelic Rock in the style of Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother & the Holding Company, with the male vocalist sounding remarkably like a curious cross between Janis Joplin and Grace Slick on this tripping flower-power song. Maybe he was wearing an extra-tight pair of trousers on that particular day to help him reach those really high notes. The band have come up trumps again with straight Aces in this psychedelic freak-out. It's time now for some gloriously pompous prog with the anthemic sound of "Puella! Puella!" (Latin for "Girl! Girl!"). There are no lyrics as such, but there's some wonderful choral harmonising to be heard from the five-piece Welsh choir of Man. Wow, Oh Wow! They're so incredible! This band of boyos have enough awesome vocal power between them to fill an entire cathedral. This tremendous album of classic Proto-Prog is turning out to be just as reliable and dependable as a 200- year-old Volkswagen Beetle that starts up first time after being found abandoned in a sea cave. Remember Woody Allen's "Sleeper" movie?

Turn the lights down low now, because we're getting in a smoochy lovey-dovey mood for some deep and meaningful "Love", a lilting melancholic refrain with the lovelorn heart-broken singer in full romantic balladeer mode, so get those Man-sized tissues at the ready. Listen out again for the very occasional, helium-induced, high-pitched vocals, which brings to mind the Hee Bee Gee Bees classic, "Meaningless Songs in Very High Voices". And now we come to the positively orgasmic and orgiastic "Erotica", a song with more gasps and groans than an Emmanuelle movie, or a Wimbledon tennis tournament. It's steamier than a Joan Collins movie, or a bodice-ripping Jackie Collins novel. It's easy to see why "Erotica" was banned in Britain in the not so permissive sixties, although having a song banned in the U.K never did the Sex Pistols or Frankie Goes to Hollywood any harm. This rather racy and risque tune is hotter than Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin's lustful "Je T'Aime" and Donna Summer's extended 12-inch "Love to Love You Baby" put together. The manic musical Viagra of "Erotica" is an unrestrained psychedelic organ and guitar jamboree from beginning to end, although it doesn't quite reach the zany level of insanity of Aphrodite's Child's "Infinity", which has to be a good thing. And so, after that hot and steamy love-fest of amorous fun and frolics, it's time for a cold shower now.

Onto Side Two now and the "Blind Man" is leading the way. It's a two-part song, beginning with a rabble-rousing burst of boogie-woogie piano, but then plunging into a dark mournful tale of loneliness and despair with these plaintive, emotionally- wrought lyrics:- "From my window in the alley I see life, Passing below, So very far away, And it doesn't really matter much to me, I've nothing to think of, No words to say, And the only answer seems to be that life, Is lying there waiting, To take my life away." ..... This impassioned song is a real tearjerker with the powerfully-emotive singer pouring out his heart and soul in this suicidal tale, that's even sadder than being a member of an N-SYNC tribute band. Onto a real album highlight now with "And Castles Rise in Children's Eyes", a classically-inspired prog-tastic spectacular - featuring some heavenly harmonisation - that's built around the grandiose majesty and splendour of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1, and it doesn't come much grander than that! It's time for some heavy Heavy Prog, as storming into view right now is "Don't Just Stand There (Come in Out of the Rain)", a non-stop artillery barrage of sonic nirvana and pounding machine-gun percussion. This tremendously-rousing Top Gun music is as awe-inspiring as a screaming F-14 Tom-Cat - piloted by Tom Cruise - swooping down on Biggles down below in his sputtering Sopwith Camel. And now for something completely different: "Missing Pieces", a manic melange of chaotic noises that sounds crazier than a Monty Python sketch, or as mad as a March Hare at the Mad Hatter's tea party. It's probably best to skip this wacky "song" altogether and move onto "The Future Hides It's Face" which brings us right back to where we started from with the tinny sound of the Bontempi organ featured in the introduction again. We're at Mission Control in Houston in 1969 for this spectacular out-of-this-world Space Rock extravaganza as we blast off into orbit with actual recordings from the Apollo missions. The Eagle Has Landed!

In the beginning, God created Man, and Man created Prog, and it was Good..... Man have blasted off into Space Rock heaven with their dazzling debut album of psychedelic Proto-Prog. It's one small step for Man, one giant leap for Prog-kind!

It's Bach to the Future for some classically-inspired Folk with our first angelic song, "Heaven Heath". There are definite shades of Fairport Convention's classic "Fotheringay" to be heard here. Fotheringport Confusion, maybe. The gorgeous female harmonies and the tinkling sound of the harpsichord give the music the kind of playful pastoral aura that Mr J.S. Bach might have aired on his G-string. The gentle bucolic melody conjures up images of a sun-kissed golden meadow where sheep may safely graze. If Heaven was a place on Earth, then "Heaven Heath" would make the perfect musical accompaniment in the Garden of Eden. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight, and for *shear* musical delight, comes "Sheep Season", a charming and romantic mellow melody that's as reassuringly comforting as being swaddled in a warm woolly blanket in front of a roaring log fire. This outstanding sheep-shearing song also features a simply sublime guitar solo in the style of Fairport Convention's Richard Thompson, and if you listen carefully, you can hear the celestial sound of a mellotron too. There's more rapturous sweet nectar on the way with "Silver Song", a bright and shining piano ballad bathed in warm golden strings, that's so beautifully uplifting, it brings to mind the awe-inspiring music of Renaissance with the soaring siren-song voice of Annie Haslam. The swirling and echoey twin harmonies of Clodagh Simonds and Alison Williams are like manna from Prog-Folk heaven here. The gorgeous spectrum of music contained within this treasured album is so far proving to be as pleasing to the ears as the Technicolour riot of the Chelsea Flower Show is pleasing to the eyes, only without the huge crowds and the hayfever and the sight of someone stumbling facedown drunk into the flowerbeds.

It's Every Witch Way But Loose now: the witches are on the loose as the album takes a quirky and slightly sinister turn with some spooky Halloween antics in "The Poet and the Witch". The music is an off-kilter Witches Brew of constantly yo-yoing vocals, ranging from very high to very low, in a creepy Comus "First Utterance" kind of way. This offbeat song is unlikely to give you nightmares though as Clodagh and Alison are clearly angelic white witches blessed with heavenly voices, and the music is no more scary than a box of Black Magic chocolates. Flying into view now in magnificent plumage are the "Messenger Birds", a gently rippling piano and guitar piece featuring soaring ethereal vocals which ascend up into the heavens in the best traditions of classic Renaissance. This sparkling Emerald Isle jewel is the kind of heaven-sent music that blissful sweet dreams are made of. It's as joyously uplifting as a jubilant 2020 street party to celebrate the end of the coronavirus lockdown, with hugs and kisses all 'round, but only with *really* close neighbours. We're coming back down to earth now with some very conventional folky fare in the shape of "Dan the Wing", which draws obvious comparisons with Fairport Convention's "Tam Lin". This Folk song sounds so traditionally English, it brings to mind gaily-dressed (and occasionally gay) Morris Men - adorned with colourful bell pads and tassels - merrily gallivanting around the Maypole in the pub car park, whilst in the meantime, any self-respecting Englishmen have already beaten a hasty retreat inside the pub to escape them.

"Reverend Sisters" is another soothing piano ballad in the classic Renaissance mould, sprinkled with some magical Mellow Candle fairy dust. The gentle tinkling of the ivories combined with the lilting honey-toned voices of Clodagh and Alison, reminds one of "The Sisters" from the Renaissance "Novella" album. This haunting refrain washes over the listener like a gently rippling stream with heavenly harmonies to die for. It's a typical Irish Catholic tale of strict paragons-of-virtue nuns trying to steer their schoolgirls away from adopting any naughty black habits. We're breaking the spell now with "Break Your Token", which is a return to more traditional folky fare, with those eccentric off-kilter vocals again giving the music a certain edginess, and "Buy or Beware" continues in the same vein, with lyrics that appear to be an attack on rampant consumerism, long before anti-capitalist demonstrations became en-vogue for extreme left-wingers everywhere, although one feels the protests are not so much aimed at consumerism generally, but more likely aimed at the "Greed is Good" ethos of bank- busting rogue traders like Nick Leeson in their loud stripy suits, or Gordon Gecko Wall Street types in their bright red braces and sw**ky offices. Anyway, back to the music, and this classic Prog-Folk album is well-worth ten pounds, ten dollars or ten euros of anyone's money, whatever your political views.

From the economic to the esoteric now with "Vile Excesses", an enigmatic fairytale centred around shadows of unicorns and crowns of thorns, although judging from the song title, there's a cryptic environmental message contained within the lyrics somewhere. Again, this charming song is a wonderful spellbinding cross between Renaissance and Fairport Convention with a light sprinkling of Pentangle and Trees thrown in too. The penultimate song "Lonely Man" represents a departure from Folk into moody bluesier territory, although the twin harmonies of the two female leads sound just as enchanting as ever on this melancholic refrain. Finally, "Boulders on My Grave" takes off on a Pentangly Light Flight of fancy in a lively uptempo rocker that's very reminiscent of the vocalese style of Annie Haslam. Fittingly, "Boulders on My Grave" turns out to be the rockiest rolling stone on the entire album and it's a real album highlight. This is where the band really get to light things up for a fiery finish by burning the (Mellow) Candle at both ends, so to speak.

This precious one-off album is a true lost and found gem in the vast pantheon of Folk-Rock. Mellow Candle have graced the Prog-Folk stage with this rather special album of warm and comforting "Swaddling Songs". This delightful collection of whimsical evergreen melodies and sugar-sweet harmonies from a bygone age is a rare and revered album to treasure for all time. It's a timeless album with all of the enduring appeal of a United Nations world heritage site, provided the Taliban doesn't come along and blow it up.  You're as unlikely to find this rare album at a bargain-price charity shop or thrift store as finding a mad mullah presiding over a bar mitzvah.

"King Progress" opens in bright and lively style with "Mr Screw", a song with an upbeat uptempo Funk-Rock groove to it. The "Mr Screw" of the title refers to the British slang for a prison officer, and the angry prisoner (singer) sounds like he has an axe to grind about prison conditions, although they can't be nearly as bad as sitting through an entire series of Prisoner Cell Block H. That really would be cruel and unusual punishment. The song has an underlying air of menace about it, a bit like the kind of underlying air of menace you might experience if you walked into a Las Vegas Casino run by Robert De Niro, while in the backroom, Joe Pesci is busy beating some poor unfortunate gambling cheat's face into a bloody pulp, just before putting his head in a vice and then taking him for a long midnight drive out into the desert..... Well, maybe "Mr Screw" is not quite as menacing as that.

It's time now to light up a joss-stick and chillout to the far-out psychedelic vibes of "Since I Last Saw You", a song with a dreamy and laid-back mellow groove. This song is as cool, calm and collected as Bono from U2 with his wrap-around shades and slicked-back hair, although if Bono really IS that cool, why did he name himself after a dog biscuit, and why does he wear sunglasses at night!? ..... Anyway, "Since I Last Saw You" is a song that floats along melodiously on a wispy purple haze of swirling smoke from a middle-eastern hookah or shiska pipe. It's the kind of tripped-out psychedelic music you might have heard playing in the groovy Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco back in the "Summer of Love" year of 1967. If you're in the mood for crossing your legs in the lotus position in preparation for a long laid-back session of transcendental meditation - or even tantric sex if you're feelin' really adventurous and have a willing partner - then this is the song for you.

The weather outlook is sunny and warm for our next song..... If you're a sun worshipper, then you might just be a "Sunshine Freak", because that's the title of the third song on the album. If you've ever wanted to experience the lovely feeling of a warm Summer Breeze making you feel fine, and blowing through the jasmine of your mind, then you can do it right here from the comfort of your armchair with this glorious burst of radiant Sunshine Pop. You don't even need any Warp Factor 7 suncream to enjoy this song and there's absolutely no risk of going red in the sun like the B-52's "Rock Lobster". This vibrant Folky Pop number is flying high like the Byrds, only without the jangly sound of Roger McGuinn's twelve-string Rickenbacker guitar, and if you're lucky enough to be listening to "Sunshine Freak" while the sun is shining outside, then throw open the patio doors and Let the Sunshine In during this present-day Age of Aquarius.

And now we arrive at the title track: "King Progress". It's an old-fashioned, plaintive Folky ballad with a somewhat melancholy air (aren't all ballads melancholy by their very nature!??), featuring gently lilting guitar strings, mournful cellos and sweeping violins. The music has something of an Elizabethan feel to it, which could be down to the sound of a crumhorn. It's the kind of medieval madrigal that might have been played at some great merry-making banquet in Elizabeth 1's or Henry VIII's time. Yes, this charmingly sweet ditty is a real feast for the ears. Picture the lavish scene where copious amounts of food and wine have already been consumed and half-eaten chicken legs are being carelessly thrown over the shoulder, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass, as empty wine glasses are thrown into the blazing hearth fire with gay abandon. Not to mention lusty wenches who are ready, willing and able to be bedded down for the night to the accompanying sound of creaking rusty bedsprings. Well, one always lives in hope.

There's no doubt about it, the fifth song "Doubting Thomas" is a rompin' stompin' Folk-Rock knees-up from beginning to end, in the best traditions of some of Bob Dylan's livelier Folk-Rock numbers, and as an added bonus, the song features a Dylan- style harmonica solo too. This uptempo country-tinged melody bounces along merrily on its way for over four minutes. It's hardly the kind of authentic country music you might hear played at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, but then again, these are country boys from the back streets of London, England. The playfully silly lyrics leave one in no doubt that "Doubting Thomas" is not to be taken too seriously:- "Is this another tale of Doubting Thomas?, Very devious man is he, Keeps his goldfish in the bathtub, His sister's strange, a sight to see, Fight for territorial waters, He has a bit tiny taste of ass, His wife is frying him piranha, We think they're smarter with the bass." ..... As you can see, the lyrics make no sense whatsoever, but it's all jolly good fun at the end of the day and the party atmosphere sounds like a wonderful time was had by all involved.

If you've ever suffered from sleepless nights, then you'll certainly be able to relate to the next song: "Insomnia". This dreamy downtempo number with its spaced-out laid-back ambience might even help you drift off to sleep and "trance-port" you to a land of blissful sweet dreams. Just kick off your shoes and lie back and think of England as you listen to this marvellous piece of music from a bygone era a half-century ago, when up-and-coming British bands like Jackson Heights were recording albums of this high calibre on a regular basis. In fact, comparing this gorgeous slice of musical nostalgia with some of the mindless Pop we hear played regularly on the radio today, is a bit like comparing an exotic ride on the Orient Express from London to Istanbul with champagne and caviar, to a British Rail cattle-class trip from London to Sc**thorpe with bread and water. It's really no contest at all.

And so, alas dear friends, we've reached the seventh and final song on the album: "Cry of Eugene", an absolutely beautiful album highlight. This is a classic case of saving the best song until last, so get ready to experience eight minutes of musical magic and sheer delight with the echoing sound of a guitar soaked in reverb, bathed in a virtual aurora borealis of vibrant psychedelic colours. This calming and hypnotic music is a hauntingly beautiful psychedelic relic from the sixties and a true lost album treasure in the wonderworld of prog. This moody and magnificent piece of music reminds one somewhat of some of the early classics from the Moody Blues, only without the haunting sound of the mellotron. This is what REAL music sounds like, unlike much of the instantly forgettable Pop of today (Britney Spears or Justin Bieber, anyone?), which is about as interesting to listen to as hearing the latest BBC Radio 4 Shipping Forecast for the state of the sea at Dogger Bank.

Jackson Heights have risen from the ghetto and made a very impressive entrance onto the world stage with "King Progress", an awesome album that stands out as much from some of the mediocre music of today as the magnificent Taj Mahal palace in Agra (not the local Indian restaurant) would stand out in the ("grim up north") mining town of Barnsley in South Yorkshire.