I'm one of those people who buys certain magazines (no, not those type!) which come with a free disc, and I almost never bother listening to it. This could very well be a mistake, as these discs can have some really good music on it that I will miss by not at least spinning the damn thing. So this section is going to look at such discs, the ones I've collected and any new ones I get, and see what's on them. I'll be picking one track off a disc, probably at random, and talking about it and the artiste associated with it, finding out all I can about him her or them, and letting you know why I rate or don't rate it. They're probably going to be ninety-nine percent from Prog magazine, but you never know. Sure we'll see how it goes. If nothing else, at least I'll manage to listen to the damn things!

So this is the first track I'm going to pick, from a CD that came free with Classic Rock Presents Prog (don't anyone say the acronym should be CRAP!) which I think later dropped the first three words? Anyway, it's from a band who call themselves The Windmill.

This, then, is the CD. They call their prog selections "Prognosis" (clever, eh?) and this is Prognosis 10

which came free with the April 2010 issue of CRPP (yeah, that far back!)

"Don't be afraid" - The Windmill - from the album To Be Continued (2010) on Helping Hand Records

Well, so much for the source, but what of the music? Well seems the Windmill are from Holland - nah, just kidding! They're from that other country well-known for such structures, er, Norway. They've been together since 2001, but have taken nine years to release their first album. Well, strictly speaking only five: they began recording it in 2005, having spent the intervening four years gigging and writing material, as well as going through lineup changes. As of 2010, their personnel consisted of:

Jean Robert Vilta (Founder) - Vocals and keyboards

Morten Clason (Founding Member) - Vocals, keyboards, sax, flute, guitars

Arnfinn Isakssen (Founding Member) - Bass

Stig Andre Clason - Guitar

Erik Borgen - Guitars

Sam Arne Noland - Drums

Under the lineup the band released To Be Continued, from which this track is taken. The album only has six tracks, but in true prog rock style one (this one) is ten minutes long while another clocks in at a hefty twenty-four minutes, or a few seconds shy of that. Because of the ups and downs with personnel while the album was being recorded there are two drummers credited here, one of whom has left, plus a guitarist who has also departed.

The Windmill's music is best described as neo-progressive rock pulling from the influences of the greats like Genesis, Yes and Floyd, yet with a curiously up to date sound. Their second album was only recently released, so this is not a band who are given to churning out substandard albums it would seem, although to be fair I've only heard this one track. Try as I might I can't track down a decently-priced copy of either album, but Spotify has them both so I'm shortly to indulge. As it happens, the second album, which is called, rather appropriately given the title of the debut, The Continuation, has even less tracks on it than To Be Continued... with only five, although this time there's a twelve minuter and a twenty-five minute track!

But to the track in hand. As I say, it's from their debut album To Be Continued and runs for just a few seconds over ten minutes, so it's a good introduction to the band. It opens with soft rolling synth quickly punctuated by sharp percussion and then gentle flutework from Morten Clason, before the song settles down into a nice little piano-driven tune with measured drumming and the vocals of Jean Vilta are clear and warm with I believe a touch of the singer from Also Eden. Guitars are quite restrained but definitely audible. I would say personally the contribution from Clason's flutes is something I could do without: it's almost like they're just there for the sake of being there, and certainly don't add anything to the song, in fact to my mind they take from the general feel of it except as the piece moves into its second movement with hard guitars breaking through and stirring organ work.

A nice instrumental break which showcases the varied talents of this band, the flutes this time firing off in concert with the guitar riffs while the organ booms behind them. There's almost a flute solo around the fifth minute before guitar takes over, then hands back over to flute again. This time the guitar follows the flute, and it's a nice progression. Clason's flutework is definitely more palatable when it's soft and pastoral than when he tries to make it a little more aggressive a la Jethro Tull perhaps. Nice guitar solo at the seventh minute, then Clason does just what I have been talking about and don't like, making the flute too punchy and upfront. As we hit the eighth minute Vilta comes back in accompanied by gentle piano, soon joined by rising guitar as the song heads towards its final part, with a nice guitar and vocal ending, though Clason's flute trails away as the final instrument you hear.

It's perhaps a little overlong. Ten minutes for a song that could easily have been compressed into five without losing too much of its shape or meaning, and I do have to wonder what I'm in for when I sample the longer tracks on both albums. It's a nice song though and I certainly remember it as being the highlight of this disc, along with Also Eden, Touchstone and Syzygy. I never quite realised before though how annoying the flute is. It's not that the song doesn't need flute - well, it doesn't really - but it's just used in the wrong way, as far as I can see. Soft, luxuriant flute yes, hard, abrasive, look-at-me flute no. That aside though it's a great track that has led me to check out the album and once I have had a chance to do that it will probably end up being reviewed.

Does it show the craft of five years' writing? I'd say it shows that it definitely wasn't thrown together over a wet weekend in Margate. The problem, if there is one, may lie in the fact that maybe it was worked on for too long, and has been a little overproduced. But a very good effort for a first example from a relatively new band.

See, I think about weird stuff, and this idea has been swimmin' around in my brain for a few months now. I know it may sound like a bit of a downer, but in these times where we're all just wondering where it's all going to end, and how long we have left on this blue-green ball in space, it occurred to me to wonder what would be the last thing I would want to hear before the end? If our planet bit the big one (or we do; why should the Earth pay the price for our greed and neglect?) then what would, theoretically, be the last song, piece of music, sound that I would like to hear?

If this sounds too depressing a topic (I guess it is) then remember it's all hypothetical; I don't expect to die any time soon (what bus?) and if it makes you feel easier or more comfortable about it, perhaps think about what music you'd like played at your funeral? How does that make it any less uncomfortable? I don't know: maybe envisaging your own death years/decades down the line instead of right now might lessen the sense of impending doom? Who knows? Anyway, it's mostly just for fun, if death can ever be said to be a subject of fun (you mean you haven't read Terry Pratchett?), and to perhaps tie down and recognise that song or piece of music that means more to you than maybe you realised.

If anyone wishes to post their own ideas, feel free, but please observe one rule, to be rigidly enforced: only ONE song, piece of music, concerto, theme, sound allowed. But within that, it doesn't HAVE to be music. Could be the sound of your baby/loved one/pet, could be birdsong, could be, I don't know, the roar of a Lambourgini. Hey, what do I know about what matters to you? Which is why I would like to know.

In any event, here's mine. If anyone decides to take part, do be aware I hope/expect you to explain your choice; what the music/sound means to you, why you would like it to be the last sound you hear (unless it's at your funeral, in which case the last sound that, I guess, defines you or reminds people of you) and so on.

Who wants to live forever? - Queen - 1986

Do I need to explain this? Well, I will anyway. No, I'm not the biggest Queen fan, though I do like their music. My sister is a far bigger fan. But something about this song just speaks to me. It has everything: the pathos, the urgent, striving, desperation of trying to stay with your loved one but knowing you must leave them, the quiet acceptance at the end as everything drifts away into eternity. Written of course by Brian May for the movie Highlander, it concerns Conor MacLeod's inability to die, but having to see those he loves dies. But that's a movie, and placed in a wider context it's a story we all face, of knowing that the Grim Reaper is only ever a step behind us, that we can go anytime, and that, in the end, none of us lives forever.

The opening organ arpeggio sets the scene, then the late Freddie Mercury's clear and powerful but understated voice comes through. One verse in, Roger Taylor's muted, echoey drums punch out a very effective counterpoint, then the orchestra swells behind Freddie as his voice rises in power and passion until it crashes down almost to nothing. Brian May's guitar comes in as Roger's drums get more powerful and insistent, and Freddie comes back in with a strong and emotional vocal, then Brian cuts loose on the guitar and the orchestra powers back in, the level of emotion and tragedy in the song reaching a crescendo in one of those trademark Queen multi-vocals, the signature May guitar sound, then everything fades away again to just organ and echoey drums, a little guitar, then the guitar and organ swell again as the song rises once more, instrumentally, then slowly fades away again, leaving only Roger's muted drums to take the song almost to its conclusion, before a final glissando on the organ sets the seal on a true classic.

Not only is the music perfect, but the sentiment expressed within the lyric is also the best I could ever come across were I to search for a soundtrack, as it were, to my death. Sure, I wouldn't be alive to hear it, but how powerful and majestic it would sound, blaring out of the church's speakers, to the three or four people who might turn up to see me off into the Great Unknown. 

Sometimes two artistes get together that you could never have imagined collaborating, and it just seems like such a bad idea! Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. In this section, I'm going to tackle a team-up and talk about whether or not I feel it worked, why the collaboration happened and how it affected one or both of the two artiste's future careers and record sales.

Whereas not every team up yields a hit single, this one song was a huge international hit. Not that surprising when you consider the quality of talent involved. Queen of course were already well known and respected as a driving force in the rock world, with albums like News of the World, A Night at the Opera, and huge hit singles like “Killer queen”, “Crazy little thing called love” and of course their number one classic, “Bohemian rhapsody” to their credit. David Bowie was also internationally renowned as an innovative and enduring artist, having created albums like Ziggy Stardust, Diamond Dogs and Heroes, and with a string of hit singles to his name, including the seminal “Life on Mars”.

So the teaming up of these two forces, while not exactly envisaged, was no huge wrench to anyone. Both were in the rock arena, both quite firmly in the dramatic/theatrical side of rock, with makeup, costumes and lavish stage shows part of each's identity and persona, and each were accomplished musicians and songwriters. Both also had a strong sense of moral justice and a desire to do what they could to change the world, evidenced by their ongoing charity work.

Queen and David Bowie - Under pressure

When Bowie arrived at Queen's studio to record a track for their forthcoming album, Hot Space, both found the session was not working as they had hoped. So they took a break, had a jam session and within that session the embryonic “Under pressure” was born. After much tweaking and re-recording, the song was finally released as a single (Queen's name first, as Bowie was essentially guesting on the record) and became a huge hit. It has an instantly recognisable and catchy bassline, as well as handclap beats that help to form the rhythm. Bowie is on his best form, while Freddie Mercury sings scat in the background, joining in on the verses later and both of them on the chorus, though Bowie sings “Under pressure” on his own.

Although the single, being a number one hit, has been somewhat dulled by repeated plays, and one tends to more reach for the off button when it comes on the radio or TV, it's stood the test of time, sounding as fresh now as it was when it was recorded thirty years ago. It's also been covered and sampled, sometimes well, sometimes not.

“Under pressure” is without doubt a true example of consummate professionals getting together to produce a quality product, and the fact that this was (up to then) the only time Bowie collaborated with another star act, says a lot about the admiration he had for Queen, and they for him.

Without question, a Marriage Made in... Heaven!