I Talk To The Wind: Prog Blog and Reviews

micky wrote: Great TtK review Rob.. my 2nd alltime fav from them...love that album..  though not quite as much as I used to NaturalScience wrote: Is there any reason this guy hasn't been made a prog reviewer yet?  These reviews are great - the one for Les Porches is really informative, now I want to check it out. he will be...

Well-deserved and I want to be the first to congratulate...whenever it is due

Great review of one of my all-time favourite albums. Probably the one Rush album I put on if I'd like something from the band. You would appreciate them so much more if you could just get around those surgical, precise parts of Rush music. They are one of my main reasons for liking the band in the first place. Characteristic, and wonderfully tight.

Review 31, A Farewell To Kings, Rush, 1977

The title track begins with a touch of acoustics, accompanied by synth and some glockenspiel. It promptly kicks off properly in true Rush style, with a bombastic guitar part, a solid bassline, giving Geddy Lee space to play around a little, some very capable drumming from Peart, and great vocals and lyrics. The chorus and verses are both strong, but the (even if it's good) instrumental break creates a rather poor place for the second chorus to hit in, and I'm never particularly motivated by the Lifeson solo here, which seems rather too surgical for my liking. An acoustic outro concludes the piece. So,

Gentle synths feature prominently in the following Xanadu, an ambitious story of the quest for immortality, replete with references to Samuel Taylor Coleridge . Wind chimes and either a very precise guitar or intelligent synths create a powerful, yet unobtrusive atmosphere, before the guitar and synth duet punches in with a very powerful accompanying rhythm section. So far, an intelligent, developed atmosphere, a perfect progressive opening. A rather sudden burst from the guitar, replete with a confidently wandering bassline and an impressive rolling drum leads through some more whimsical synths and both hollow and pompous percussion.

A more directed section leads up to the vocals, with a clever combination of bass and synths, while a vocal and lyrical whirlwind (delightfully reminiscent of the cutting lines of The Fountain Of Lamneth) takes us on the journey through paradise, ironic twist included. Another seemingly random bit of bass and drum rolling prepares us for the powerful return to the final verse ('A thousand years have come and gone, but time has passed me by/Stars stopped in the sky/Frozen in an everlasting verse'). As our protagonist escapes, the trio provide a rather grandiose conclusion, with a superb Lifeson solo continuing to a return of the earlier synths and some clever variation from Peart with precise drums and guitars leading us again to the end. Symptomatic of both the things I love and hate about Rush. Some music that just feels unneeded and damages the atmosphere, but in between that a lot of classic high-energy performance and some great lines and ideas.

Closer To The Heart is essentially a ballad, even if its subject matter is romantic only in style. Great performances from Lifeson and Lee, and admittedly Peart does a good job, except in his seemingly random tubular bells near the start of the piece, which really just seem like he was trying to add something in. Very complex and intelligent for a pop song, and a classic solo from Lifeson. Great song.

Cinderella Man is the album's weak point for me. Geddy Lee contributes a dose of incredible lyrical pain, which isn't massively helped by everything else emphasising the vocals. Very credible performances from those involved, with acoustics and electric guitar alternated nicely. The biggest problem, really, is some of the short bridges, which feel very out of place and repetitive. An instrumental section closer to the end gives us a nice, even self-deprecating solo from Lifeson, as well as an absolutely solid bass part and a good launching point for a return to the final chorus. Anyway, the lyrics and bridges make this a more difficult thing for me to listen to.

Madrigal is an excellent, short romantic piece, with a combination of interesting, rather uplifting bass, some synths, and an acoustic guitar. a little surprisingly organic drumming from Peart, which manages to merge nicely with the song. Good stuff.

Cygnus X-I, sci-fi theme and all, is my joint favourite Rush song (with The Necromancer... perhaps I have a thing for unrestrained lyrics), with a solid atmosphere sustained throughout, cheesy, but loveable lyrics interwoven with stellar lines and ideas. A series of gradual haunting atmospheric synths with a spoken, distorted voice, kicks off the piece before the bass, drums and guitar mechanically insert themselves, gradually preparing for an bit of rolling chaos from Peart and Lifeson and eventually a rocking theme with its near-hypnotic sound. Everything cuts out, and we are left with just bass and a new-found vocal idea. The piece takes a little time to explore the black hole's legend. The piece soars off to meet the protagonist, complete with a brilliant guitar solo from Lifeson. We are then taken to an uncharacteristically instrospective section before we get a monstrously loud bass-guitar duo and crashing drumming from Peart. The protagonist's maddened voice cries out in the chaos, which ascends to a haunting end before dropping away to a lone, tantalising acoustic voice in the other side of the void. To be continued.

So, some of the things that will really get to me in the later Rush albums that many will call classics, but also a lot of the features I love from Rush songs. Generally solid performances all round, great lyrical content (mostly!), and the stellar Cygnus X-I leave the album meriting a four star rating from me. Great album, highly recommended, the good far outweighs the bad.

Rating: Four Stars

Favourite Track: Cygnus X-I

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Something for everyone... Not one of my better reviews, but I think I got my thoughts across.
Discussion and criticism welcome, as always
There's a pre-list of my next purchasing spree on the previous page, in case anyone wants to drown me in recommendations. Nothing's finalised until at least Saturday...

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I'm bringing the Les Porches review onto this page, because I love Les Porches to pieces, and think the album could do with a little more coverage.

TGM: Orb wrote: Review 30, Les Porches, Maneige, 1975 The delights of this album are at heart surprisingly simple ones. Maneige have drawn no artificial musical lines in writing and performing this and clearly had enormous fun in doing so. Add to that that all of them are great musicians, capable of both improvisation and planned playing, as well as having two extremely talented composers in flautist/pianist Alain Bergeron and clarinet/guitar/piano player Jérome Langlois. The classical, avant-garde, jazz and rock elements are all fused into two masterly suites. Les Porches De Notre Dame itself is in my indeterminately long list of 'all-time-favourite-song-ever-except-for-the-other-ones-on-the-list'. This masterpiece is crafted by both a host of musicians and a host of guest musicians, so I usually have very little idea who is playing. I may thus avoid my usual tactic of 'throw in a band member's name so it seems like I know what I'm talking about' in this review. Extremely highly recommended to anyone who can take a dose of classical or jazz ideas in their high quality prog, and should at least be tried. Gentle clarinet and flute, accompanied by some of the percussion characteristic of Vincent Langlois and Gilles Schetagne throughout the album, begins the gorgeous Les Porches. The two instruments gently tease each other to prepare for the tingling glass-like percussion and a slight, gradual escalation, with a tad of accompanying bass or perhaps oboe. After the gentle romance of this overture, the piano sets in, cold and clear, intelligently moving, backed up by a rather menacing hum. A high, chilly flute plays a number of beautiful melodies, while stretching percussion, marimbas included, only enhances this crystalline feel. The second section of the suite is begun by avant-garde cowbell-clanging, and has a rather more homely, yet still delicate feel, with a clarinet being most prominently featured. The third section of the suite is again full of piano and glockenspiel, as well as a throbbing bass and warm tubular bells. An almost bird-cry-like effect gives rise to a gorgeous section with multiple pianos and the same rich percussion sound throughout. Rather warmer, and the lush clarinet and flute provide the feel of a day dawning, and sun streaming in through the stain glass windows of a Parisian church. An equally cheerful section leads us up to the crashing gong and the piano solo. I don't know my classical music well enough to describe the piano solo in a way that will be of any meaningful help to a serious musician, but I know that this solo is one of the most moving moments of music I have ever heard, with a warmth, beauty and a sense of loss and nostalgia that gets me on every listen. Following the beautiful conclusion of this, Les Porches proper sets in with a gorgeous mellotron-like background sound, piano, amazing vocals with appropriate lyrical ideas from guest Raoul Duguay, snatches of rock drumming that carefully foreshadows the full explosion of the piece, some stunning bass solos and several beautiful piano parts. A clarinet brings the piece back from the vocals, and suddenly the best conclusion of all time begins, with a warm, heart-felt masterfully polyphonic combination of everyone involved. Electric guitar sears through the eardrums, saxes swirl, conveying the full light of the day, the drumming is life in its purest form. Additions from piano appear from nowhere, the bass runs around dissolutely, but connected to the rest. The guitar and sax launch out on their own, contributing solos finer and more vibrant than anything from Howe or Hackett. It brings itself to a natural conclusion, in a fairly bluesy style. The perfect musical interpretation of life and of the day. The lively La Grosse Torche, a basically classical composition, with an enormous versatility of ideas on piano, flute, percussion and a string quartet handled perfectly and emotively in the space of only a minute and a half. The only way you could continue the album from Les Porches without disappointing. Les Aventures De Saxinette Et Clarophone is also extremely interesting, versatile and continually a plain joy to listen to. It is divided whimsically into three chapters, two of which are split into two adventures. From the strange get-go with its combination of freely used percussion and a slightly precursor to the bass that will hold together the first episode, Chaiptre I is distinctly eclectic, with a tapping, lively feel. A barrage of drums, including marimba, prepares for soulful, and surprisingly edgy saxophone-clarinet interplay. A warm bass part changes the thoughts to a darker, more pensive mood to conclude the episode with a cliffhanger, presumably. The second episode kicks off with something instantly punchy but alien to my ears and added glockenspiel or something of a similar nature as well as a soulful, dark, foreboding piano, a great drumming part prepares for the piece's full explosion into first scorching sax and then building up into a superb polyphonic section, complete with electrics. The glockenspiel and percussion lead up gently, with the anarchic piano accompanying, to another of my favourite guitar solos ever, this time with a rather more bluesy edge (presumably from guest Denis Lapierre). A warm clarinet concludes the first chapter. The second chapter begins with a snarling clarinet, more percussion everywhere, and the sax and the clarinet exchange thoughts and ideas. This is very much a theme throughout the rest of the piece, including more avant-garde percussion ideas and something that sounds like a spoken conversation, utterly hectic in nature on the second episode of this chapter with a rather eery, haunting atmosphere caused by the screeching duo. Suspense waiting for our instrumental heroes to confront the villain, whose arrival is signaled with a crash. The third and final chapter of our story is begun with a bass theme and (yes, you guessed it!) bizarre percussion, and a brief exchange of taunts leads to the final confrontation, with a brief engagement resulting in the inevitable victory of the triumphant clarinet and saxophone. It shimmers gently out, rebellious, yet heroic. Chromo abruptly tells us that we haven't yet reached the end of the album, even if the sheer amount of great music we have heard might give us that impression. A constant bass riff dances throughout the album, and, more than ever, we get the impression that the band is just having fun with a full workout, drums, flutes and clarinet playfully spotlighting themselves. Although the bass remains pretty constant throughout, everyone gets the opportunity to throw in an idea at any point. A rather mechanical bass-and-accompanying bits-and-bobs duo gives both suspense and a cheerful atmosphere at different times, and the skill and brevity with which they move from dark moods to very uplifting ones can only be admired. A surprisingly good end for the album. The album as a whole needed a bit of listening time to expand and grow on me until it reached its current level of consistent delighting, so I suggest not writing it off if at first you're less amazed than this fawning review suggests you should be. A full five stars, and absolutely perfect. Also, I think the sound quality's stellar on the remaster, even if I don't know what I'm talking about, and haven't heard the original. How many albums do you know that can express not only an insightful understanding of the day and life's essence itself, but also convey a fictional, free-to-interpretation comic-book, without a single word, and do so with so little distinction between the borders of jazz, classical and rock music? Its description as fusion is the only one possible, but inadequate to express exactly what the album is, and even if Chromo doesn't grip you (I feel that it's not really representative of the album's majestic longer pieces), I am certain that something from the two longer pieces will. Five stars. Buy this album Rating: Five Stars Favourite Track: Les Porches De Notre Dame

I'm such an egomaniac

Here

*trembles in fear*

no I haven't....  checking it out

great Maneige review ...

read your Red review earier... you were too generous ... I would have said much the same and given it 3 stars.  Two good songs .. on a whole album doesn't rate much more than that for me. Like the Lamb.. never understood the love for it... don't see either in the same ballpark as previous albums. 

Review 30, Les Porches, Maneige, 1975

The delights of this album are at heart surprisingly simple ones. Maneige have drawn no artificial musical lines in writing and performing this and clearly had enormous fun in doing so. Add to that that all of them are great musicians, capable of both improvisation and planned playing, as well as having two extremely talented composers in flautist/pianist Alain Bergeron and clarinet/guitar/piano player Jérome Langlois. The classical, avant-garde, jazz and rock elements are all fused into two masterly suites. Les Porches De Notre Dame itself is in my indeterminately long list of 'all-time-favourite-song-ever-except-for-the-other-ones-on-the-list'. This masterpiece is crafted by both a host of musicians and a host of guest musicians, so I usually have very little idea who is playing. I may thus avoid my usual tactic of 'throw in a band member's name so it seems like I know what I'm talking about' in this review. Extremely highly recommended to anyone who can take a dose of classical or jazz ideas in their high quality prog, and should at least be tried.

Gentle clarinet and flute, accompanied by some of the percussion characteristic of Vincent Langlois and Gilles Schetagne throughout the album, begins the gorgeous Les Porches. The two instruments gently tease each other to prepare for the tingling glass-like percussion and a slight, gradual escalation, with a tad of accompanying bass or perhaps oboe.

After the gentle romance of this overture, the piano sets in, cold and clear, intelligently moving, backed up by a rather menacing hum. A high, chilly flute plays a number of beautiful melodies, while stretching percussion, marimbas included, only enhances this crystalline feel.

The second section of the suite is begun by avant-garde cowbell-clanging, and has a rather more homely, yet still delicate feel, with a clarinet being most prominently featured.

The third section of the suite is again full of piano and glockenspiel, as well as a throbbing bass and warm tubular bells. An almost bird-cry-like effect gives rise to a gorgeous section with multiple pianos and the same rich percussion sound throughout. Rather warmer, and the lush clarinet and flute provide the feel of a day dawning, and sun streaming in through the stain glass windows of a Parisian church. An equally cheerful section leads us up to the crashing gong and the piano solo.

I don't know my classical music well enough to describe the piano solo in a way that will be of any meaningful help to a serious musician, but I know that this solo is one of the most moving moments of music I have ever heard, with a warmth, beauty and a sense of loss and nostalgia that gets me on every listen.

Following the beautiful conclusion of this, Les Porches proper sets in with a gorgeous mellotron-like background sound, piano, amazing vocals with appropriate lyrical ideas from guest Raoul Duguay, snatches of rock drumming that carefully foreshadows the full explosion of the piece, some stunning bass solos and several beautiful piano parts. A clarinet brings the piece back from the vocals, and suddenly the best conclusion of all time begins, with a warm, heart-felt masterfully polyphonic combination of everyone involved. Electric guitar sears through the eardrums, saxes swirl, conveying the full light of the day, the drumming is life in its purest form. Additions from piano appear from nowhere, the bass runs around dissolutely, but connected to the rest. The guitar and sax launch out on their own, contributing solos finer and more vibrant than anything from Howe or Hackett. It brings itself to a natural conclusion, in a fairly bluesy style. The perfect musical interpretation of life and of the day.

The lively La Grosse Torche, a basically classical composition, with an enormous versatility of ideas on piano, flute, percussion and a string quartet handled perfectly and emotively in the space of only a minute and a half. The only way you could continue the album from Les Porches without disappointing.

Les Aventures De Saxinette Et Clarophone is also extremely interesting, versatile and continually a plain joy to listen to. It is divided whimsically into three chapters, two of which are split into two adventures.

From the strange get-go with its combination of freely used percussion and a slightly precursor to the bass that will hold together the first episode, Chaiptre I is distinctly eclectic, with a tapping, lively feel. A barrage of drums, including marimba, prepares for soulful, and surprisingly edgy saxophone-clarinet interplay. A warm bass part changes the thoughts to a darker, more pensive mood to conclude the episode with a cliffhanger, presumably.

The second episode kicks off with something instantly punchy but alien to my ears and added glockenspiel or something of a similar nature as well as a soulful, dark, foreboding piano, a great drumming part prepares for the piece's full explosion into first scorching sax and then building up into a superb polyphonic section, complete with electrics. The glockenspiel and percussion lead up gently, with the anarchic piano accompanying, to another of my favourite guitar solos ever, this time with a rather more bluesy edge (presumably from guest Denis Lapierre). A warm clarinet concludes the first chapter.

The second chapter begins with a snarling clarinet, more percussion everywhere, and the sax and the clarinet exchange thoughts and ideas. This is very much a theme throughout the rest of the piece, including more avant-garde percussion ideas and something that sounds like a spoken conversation, utterly hectic in nature on the second episode of this chapter with a rather eery, haunting atmosphere caused by the screeching duo. Suspense waiting for our instrumental heroes to confront the villain, whose arrival is signaled with a crash.

The third and final chapter of our story is begun with a bass theme and (yes, you guessed it!) bizarre percussion, and a brief exchange of taunts leads to the final confrontation, with a brief engagement resulting in the inevitable victory of the triumphant clarinet and saxophone. It shimmers gently out, rebellious, yet heroic.

Chromo abruptly tells us that we haven't yet reached the end of the album, even if the sheer amount of great music we have heard might give us that impression. A constant bass riff dances throughout the album, and, more than ever, we get the impression that the band is just having fun with a full workout, drums, flutes and clarinet playfully spotlighting themselves. Although the bass remains pretty constant throughout, everyone gets the opportunity to throw in an idea at any point. A rather mechanical bass-and-accompanying bits-and-bobs duo gives both suspense and a cheerful atmosphere at different times, and the skill and brevity with which they move from dark moods to very uplifting ones can only be admired. A surprisingly good end for the album.

The album as a whole needed a bit of listening time to expand and grow on me until it reached its current level of consistent delighting, so I suggest not writing it off if at first you're less amazed than this fawning review suggests you should be. A full five stars, and absolutely perfect. Also, I think the sound quality's stellar on the remaster, even if I don't know what I'm talking about, and haven't heard the original.

How many albums do you know that can express not only an insightful understanding of the day and life's essence itself, but also convey a fictional, free-to-interpretation comic-book, without a single word, and do so with so little distinction between the borders of jazz, classical and rock music? Its description as fusion is the only one possible, but inadequate to express exactly what the album is, and even if Chromo doesn't grip you (I feel that it's not really representative of the album's majestic longer pieces), I am certain that something from the two longer pieces will. Five stars.

Buy this album

Rating: Five Stars

Favourite Track: Les Porches De Notre Dame

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Super-recommended to anyone. I feel good about writing this review.

Edit: Micky, is that obscure enough for you?

Many thanks to Kotro for recommending the album to me


Edited by TGM: Orb - May 13 2008 at 11:12

LinusW wrote: Yeah, guess so. A shame about Moving Pictures, but once again, perfectly understandable.

The shame is how incredibly awesome Vital Signs is, but how long I have to wait to hear it without feeling non-prog because I use the skip button.

Mirage comes highly recommended, unlike Moonmadness, it's a great album, and I think it'd be way more in line with your taste. I have the same sort of qualms you do with Moonmadness, but I might give it a three, since I can enjoy the softer sections, oddly.

Just plowed painfully through Moving Pictures, which only really picks up for the last two tracks.

I hated Providence (+ SABB + The Talking Drum +ish Moonchild) at first, but for some reason I've begun to love those to pieces. Can't explain exactly why, except that I only really got the second half of Moonchild when I read Certif1ed's review of Court. The Talking Drum just happened during a sitting of Larks' Tongues and suddenly became a deeply loved piece. Fracture, I think, I just needed to get the right visualisation base for (it is definitely the world splitting open). Providence, I don't know, but I think I generally care a lot more for improvisations and atmospheres and have a better feel for them than I did at the start of my prog journey.

Changing tastes.