I Talk To The Wind: Prog Blog and Reviews

Congratulations on the promotion Rob and many more fantastic reviews to come.

The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other, Van Der Graaf Generator, 1970

The Least We Can Do... comes a little before the thoroughly incredible H To He, Who Am The Only One, and is a good and fairly interesting album. However, though Van Der Graaf Generator would probably be my joint favourite band, I can't say that this compares very favourably with the following four masterpieces they were to release. Hammill's vocals are consistent and excellent, but certainly don't have the experimental and quirky edge which instantly drew me into the group's work. Equally, the instrumental and lyrical content is all quite strong with a number of high points, but still overall feels a bit vulnerable in comparison with the following albums.

I'd say that the two soft songs, Refugees and Out Of My Book, are a bit more successful than the aggressive and grandiose choices, and the album as a whole is fairly consistently solid, but the soul-tearing moments of instrumental fury are missing in a few places. Lastly, I actually dislike White Hammer's vocal section. Essentially a good album, with its own individual feel and merits, but more of an album for the band's fans than one I'd consider a general milestone of progressive rock.

The bleak Darkness 11/11, the lyrical opposite of Rush's Freewill (brilliantly phrased, denying the possession of Freewill and from a first person viewpoint) opens the album with incredible force, wind sound effects; neat basslines and piano pervade the piece. Jaxon's superb twinning of the electric sax and acoustic sax, comes to the forefront in the instrumental sections, and Bantom's organ and Evans, though not often coming to the forefront, are extremely effective when they do.

The gorgeous Refugees is an incredibly human and connective song about, essentially, leaving a way of life behind. Lush cellos and flute hold up the piece's substance, while Hammill's extremely high and clear vocals convey the remorseful lyrics ('we're refugees, walking away from the life we've known and loved/nothing to do nor say, nowhere to stay, now we are alone'). Throughout the piece, the vocals are changing, moving to a lower range, and being supplemented by substantial backing harmonies, and with them moves the music, incorporating superb percussion and piano (this time from Hammill). A truly beautiful song, with a lovely organ/flute ending.

White Hammer is the only Van Der Graaf Generator song I've so far heard that I actually dislike. Not only are the lyrics a bit of a mess, and lacking in impact, but the delivery is equally a little flat. The force just doesn't reach me. Admittedly, a range of vocals are used, from grandiose to aggressive to a more intimate tone, but they don't really work for me. There are a few positives to be had in the musical content, Hugh Bantom's organ rocks appropriately, if a tad repetitively, in between its more reflective tones, while Nic Potter's bass is enjoyably mobile and energetic. The rather light cornet from Gerry Salisbury works quite well in providing a dated feel.

However, the real merit of the piece is the very, very strong instrumental conclusion that follows the rather weak vocal section. The organ takes on a force of its own, as do the saxophone wails. This gritty terror evoked by Jaxon and Bantom and potent elephantine percussion lead the song to its conclusion.

Whatever Would Robert Have Said is probably my favourite of the album's darker and heavier pieces, with gritty guitar from Nic Potter complimenting Hammill's frantic vocals, the underpinning acoustics, and organ throbs, as well as a superb set of lyrics ('I am the peace you're searching for, but you know you'll never find/ I am the pain you can't endure, but which tingles in your mind'). All the performances are top notch, with David Jackson's soft sax complimenting the Frippish guitar wails suprisingly well. A real force and atmosphere is continued throughout.

Out Of My Book is the album's second soft piece, with a rather more acoustic focus, and odd flutes and complimentary organs backing up the vocal changes. Guy Evans percussion is highly impressive here, adding in a few touches without intruding greatly, and Nic Potter's bass again is strong, adding an almost-plucked counterpart to the acoustics. The lyrics and vocals are sublime, and the piece overall is a complete success.

After The Flood is an awkward piece to review. Long and certainly grandiose, with a fierce set of sax riffs and organ additions, and enough neat additions from acoustics and all sorts of bizarre sounds to hold up the instrumental side (which includes a rather amusing Mission-Impossible-reminiscent-section). It is unfortunate that the highly repeated 'The water rushes over all...' and 'and when the water falls again...' are nothing more than grandiose. The delivery just isn't personal enough for my liking. Still, Evans is on top form, and there's plenty to enjoy, especially the 'And then he said: (Einstein quote here)' section. It just doesn't quite satisfy me constantly, which is a bit of a shame as an ending piece.

The two bonus pieces, a neat aggressive acoustic-led piece called Boat Of Millions Of Years, and a single cut of Refugees (substantially different from the album version, so still a worthy conclusion), are both strong and interesting. The former is strong on all counts, and fits in with the album's feel.

So, if, like me, you're a fan of Van Der Graaf Generator, this should definitely follow the four big albums, and should have more than enough good material to keep you satisfied, even if it's no match for the following four. If not, the soft pieces do need to be heard, but I can't imagine the album as a whole doing a lot for you. Characteristically dark, frenetic, multi-faceted and solid. Three stars.

Rating: Three Stars
Favourite Track: Refugees

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OK, feet have stopped bleeding, blisters on shoulders and hips mostly recovered, hatred of Yorkshire hill-top plants and unchartered moors slowing ebbing away. Can review again.

tswrtht

Off for Duke of Edinburgh expedition. Hope to return in one piece. If you see an unwashed late teenage figure  with a pretentious proto-mustache and hair vaguely like 70s Jon Anderson next week, please don't throw stones at him, he means well.

Review 67 (really), Peter Gabriel (1), Peter Gabriel, 1976

Peter Gabriel's solo career seems, from the range of stuff I've heard so far, to be the ultimate musical chameleon. Even the classic prog giants don't cover quite as much ground musically as I've heard from Gabriel, and I haven't actually heard all that much of him yet. This album, too, is musically very diverse, with subtle and obvious eclecticism pervading most of it. Despite the wide range of styles covered, I feel that Peter Gabriel (1 of 4) is a very successful album most of the time, and never slips so badly it causes a lot of annoyance. Down The Dolce Vita is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest pieces of (rock) music ever recorded, and the quality of the rest is hardly shabby either. Great stuff.

The highly eclectic Moribund The Burgermeister is a superb opener. Compelling quiet rhythm section work is supplemented with both Fripp guitar wailing and droning, water-drop effects and bursts of more standard strutting from guitar and synths. Gabriel's vocals acquit themselves brilliantly, with harmonies, the menacing 'I will find out' and some sarcastically used accents particularly standing out as both unusual and excellent. Lyrically, the song meddles in both entertaining and more serious ideas, without being too fixed to lose the mystery.

Solsbury Hill, probably Gabriel's second-most-known piece, is also fairly distinctive. Aside from the superb vocal (self-harmonising, if I'm not mistaken, with two different sounds that give a slight edge) and lyrical content, the upbeat banjo stands out. Tony Levin's jabbing and whumphing bass rhythm is quite compelling. As much as I feel the keyboard riff is a bit obnoxious, it does add some more options and layers to the music. However, the song really breaks out during the little mini-explosions on drums at the end of each verse and finally on the ending instrumental section, with a belting guitar and fun jabbering from Gabriel to boot.

The rocker, Modern Love, is a bit more conventional than the first two songs, but nonetheless very strong, with superb and fascinating swirly bass-work from Levin, the classic 70s high hammond chord, Andy 's drumming matches these with little crashes supplemented with tin-pot sounds and a solid beat. Gabriel is again a stand-out vocalist, albeit sounding virtually nothing like himself, much grainier than usual, and his innuendo-wrapped lyrics are at the same time amusing and quite compelling. The guitar chords are immaculate, even if a little upstaged by Levin.

The hilarious barber-shop quartet followed by unusual song that is Excuse Me also works in its own way, with a neat tuba provided by Levin, great vocals and fairly nice lyrics, solos and little melodies added by all things involved, including one particularly fine guitar burst and a weird little synth tone that sounds a bit piano-meets-tympani.

Humdrum is far more subdued, with a soulful vocal and sustained, soft piano contributing the opening verse, before a gorgeous recorder-guitar dominated break and a reiteration of the opening section with more contributions. A second, extremely pretty section features a gorgeous acoustic guitar part and lush keyboard parts. Not as memorable as the rest of the album, perhaps, but nonetheless I enjoy it every time

Slowburn is the second heavily rock-based piece of the album, and it too is very strong, with a completely different, but no less fascinating, bass part. Amusing 'aaa's punctuate some of the vocal sections, and the synths and programming are brilliant. The drumming and guitars are plain rock awesomeness, and the softer sections don't at all break the flow of the piece, but rather add slightly more emphasis to it. An odd soundscape thing with all sorts of synth ideas and glockenspiel leads down to the end.

Waiting For The Big One is a rather laid back song, with wonderful piano crawls, a light and cheery vocal, little guitar additions are the order of the day, and the rather larger guitar strut with large harmony feels a little out of place in the piece. Gabriel's vocal is, as always, tailored to the piece, with good range and sound, and a rather neat bluesy solo punctuates the middle.

The amazing Down The Dolce Vita is almost definitely one of my top twenty songs. Aside from the superb merge of the LSO with the rock band and utterly compelling rhythm guitar riff, Gabriel's vocal is again a stunner, with constant and effective flourishes, stark edges and amazing lyrics (“'So long', said four men to their families/be strong, 'til we get back home”. Levin's bass jumps up at the high end, adding these little throbs of energy in between his more standard backing. The drums and percussion are forceful and have a great roll, and the orchestral jabs on the concluding verse. A final stark flute-based conclusion segues straight into Here Comes The Flood. This song alone would justify the album's price for me.

Here Comes The Flood is an amazingly emotional piece, with jaw-dropping vocals and lyrics ('stranded starfish have no place to hide') complimenting the soft piano, acoustics and backing organ, as well as the hollow percussion sound. The heavily harmonised chorus is effective and potent, as is the roaring guitar solo, and the piece gradually builds to its climax without losing any of its essence. The conclusion, I feel, is slightly too insubstantial, but that is the only gripe I have with the piece.

So, overall, a wonderfully diverse range of goodies here, and while it doesn't quite hit the masterpiece mark for me, it comes very close. Vital and enjoyable listening, and so far detached from Genesis that I don't think your opinion of one will have any bearing on your opinion of the other. Highly recommended. I look forward to hearing more of Gabriel's solo material soon.

Rating: Four Stars
Favourite Track: Down The Dolce Vita

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Usual bunch of welcoming criticism and comments stuff. Will have more questions once I've heard 2, 3 and 4 for myself.

Kotro wrote: Hm. meh. Purchase considerations now: Darwin - BDMS   Be careful with what you order - don't go for the cheapest, that's probably the dreaded 1991 version. Doomsday Afternoon - Phideaux (been dabbling with the idea for a while, then looked at the pricetag, and still shaking on it) What's the price? I got it fairly cheap (14€) - it is worth so much more. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles That's probably my next review - won't be very flattering, I'm afraid. And Are You Experienced? - Hendrix Disraeli Gears - Cream   Can't go wrong with these. Led Zeppellin IV or I or something - obvious band   Personal favorite is still II, although IV and Houses of the Holy are also excellent.  Deep Purple   Self-titled. Still their best, to my ears. UK - UK   Oh, you're definitly going to like this one.   Nice list, as always.

Many thanks Will redress accordingly.

New considerations:

Dun - Eros (must have. Not as common as I'd like...)

Allman Brothers Band (micky, I know you're out there) - any suggestions? was more guitar-focused in the listening, but was on a crap sound system, so that's understandable.

Leg End - Henry Cow

hm. Perhaps the latest Hackett album too.

My wallet bleeds.

TGM: Orb wrote: Hm. Well, I've been spending a bit too much time on Youtube's ample musical section over the last couple of mornings, and I've discovered that I really like jazz. I have cravings for some Coltrane (just wow), and love jazz guitar and drumming to pieces. I suppose it's possibly just so I'll look like an elitist conoisseur of music rather than someone who just wants an excuse to buy a kimono Naturally, trying to trim my list down to 20 albums (I will fail. I accept this) for the rest of the year, including a couple of re-orders. Edit: This has been failed. Now. Any suggestions, must haves, things I might be interested in? Any obvious horrors in the above that I should avoid? Where to start with jazz? From my samplings, I've liked all sorts, so style shouldn't really be a concern. Brubeck quartet, modern jazz quartet and Coltrane have been of particular impressiveness so far. Remember a guitarist I quite liked the sound of, which I'll double check later. Also, a present from the SR

Hm. meh. Purchase considerations now:

Possible/probables. A few for general education. A few for interest. Some more certain than others.
Trilogy - ELP (decided to finally buy the actual album for the two or three tracks not on my anthology). Has been replaced with
Chameleon In The Shadow Of The Night (and Fall Of The House Of Usher if I can find it) - Peter Hammill
Darwin - BDMS
Io Sono Nato Liberato - BDMS
Mujician (vol. 1/2) - Keith Tippet
The Quiet Zone/The Pleasure Dome (or World Record) - VDGG
Phoenix - Asia (heard mixed opinions. Any good)
Ys - Joanna Newsom
Other avant-gardey thing from harp thread I did *ages* ago.
National Health (first two in one. Not sure if this'll be cheap...)
The Night Watch/whichever it is (Live) - Crimson
Moving Waves - Focus
A Live Record - Camel
Underwater Sunlight - Tangerine Dream
A Saucerful Of Secrets/Piper At The Gates Of Dawn - Floyd (issue: they're more expensive than other classic prog)
Doomsday Afternoon - Phideaux (been dabbling with the idea for a while, then looked at the pricetag, and still shaking on it)
Tanz Der Lemminge - Amon Duul II
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles

And

Are You Experienced? - Hendrix
Disraeli Gears - Cream
Led Zeppellin IV or I or something - obvious band
Out Of The Blue - ELO
Fireball or In Rock or something - Deep Purple
(G_d is my basic rock education lacking.)
something Coltraney, something Brubecky, something Modern Jazz Quartety, something Davissy
a couple of cheaper later Genesis albums, perhaps, just to see
Gabriel 2, 3 or 4
Maneige - s/t
Whatever I can get most reasonably from a normalish dealer, dammit - Le Orme
Soft Machine - spamloads of stuff. They seem relatively inexpensive.
Pictures At An Exhibition - ELP
Quite liked the Ratt thing Mickster had on his myspace, so might try that if I'm feeling rich
Nadir's Big Chance or something - Hammill
UK - UK
Stevie Wonder - key heart thing
The Moody Blues - OK, just having Days Of Future Passed is a bit light. Something new, perhaps
David Bowie - Hunky Dory + The Rise And Fall?
Gryphon - Red Queen, and perhaps Gryphon, out of curiosity.
Renaissance - thing with Mother Russia on it?
Colosseum - cheapest thing going
Gary Moore - Still Got The Blues
Ahvak - Ahvak
Nivraym - Koenjihyakkei, if I can find it.

Italicised means maybe. slashed out means no, but I might change my mind.

This music thing is a bottomless pit.


Edited by TGM: Orb - August 22 2008 at 01:40

Review 67, Drama, Yes, 1980

For 1980's Drama (my only post-GFTO Yes album, and probably going to stay that way for a while...), Yes has an odd line-up. The Yes nucleus has been reduced to the virtuostic Howe and Squire, and the excellent White, and added to that are The Buggles – a pop duo responsible for Video Killed The Radio Star -, comprising Geoff Downes and Trevor Horn. The obvious, but unfair, question is whether they can replace two of the golden era Yes-men, Wakeman and Anderson.

In a stroke of genius, they don't even try. Geoff Downes' keys are not a Wakeman imitation. The atmospheres of Wakeman are left behind in favour of slightly harder and more blunt work. While the man isn't an obvious choice for favourite keyboardist, he holds up his side well. Trevor Horn's vocals, similarly, are more than just aping Anderson, they change much more unexpectedly than Anderson did, and handle the harmonies with grace. Nonetheless, both fit in very well with the core parts of Yes, and the resulting album is well-balanced, surprisingly strong and at times mindblowing.

Machine Messiah dispels all fears of a weak effort. Led in by an astounding guitar-bass riff, with Howe splintering away savagely, and then moving onto various sorts of soulful backing for the harmony vocals, acoustics, synths, organs, guitar, but always with a feral edge from Howe lurking underneath. A solo section, including a superb bass solo, leads back to a return of the bass riff with awe-inspiring choral mellotron and a completely gritty guitar part. This somehow turns to a mellotron and acoustic atmosphere, with Horn's vocals again taking an oddly reverent spot, and then it jumps up into a hugely positive section, with an uplifting burst like classic Yes, and a positive solo, which then again leads down to the acoustic and keys echoing the bass riff in an ambiguous manner. More chaotic guitar-work leads us out. An absolutely phenomenal, spiritual track, complimented by a suitably Yes-ish spiritual lyrics, and, most importantly, making full use of a range of dynamics. Classic Yes, and I don't say that lightly.

White Car, lasting less than a minute and a half, is a somewhat odd track. Focused very much on a keyboard riff, with all sorts of small percussiony and acoustic things appearing. Trevor Horn provides a brief vocal, which is suitably interesting, and Downes concludes it with a moog solo. Nice.

Does It Really Happen opens with a kicking bass rhythm and White on top form, as well as some keyboards foreshadowing later vocal melodies. Howe's guitar leaps introduce the vocals, which have an absolutely killer chorus. The second, two words at a time, vocal section works well, with Downes stabbing brilliantly on the hammond behind it. The band manages to convincingly take an unbacked rendition of the chorus with a clever use of the harmonies to prevent it feeling redundant. The conclusion echoes the opening with a phenomenal bass performance from Squire, who is essentially guitar-heroing with a bass.

The eight and a half minute Into The Lens finds it slightly harder to really click than the preceding numbers, though it probably has the strongest vocal performance so far. Downes takes a pretty strong initial piano-synth lead, which he later relinquishes to Howe's parallel-to-the-vocal swirls, and the entire band takes their turns at leading and backing. There's another showcase for the soloing talents of the band-members, as well as their ability to move back to something which initially seems like the previous chorus/verse part, but musically isn't. Though I have no objections to any of the individual performances, with Howe in particular blistering away quite neatly, but the song as a whole somehow seems a bit too trite for a bit too long, with too much random movement. Very indicative of the direction Howe and Downes would take on Asia, and overall a good song, but not quite reaching the heights of the previous pieces.

Run Through The Light is another damning indiction of my love for pop songs. After a moody keyboard opening, the vocals come in with the brilliant 'I asked my love to give me she-e-elter/But all she offered me were dreams/Of all the moments spent together/That move like never-ending streams', and everything simply takes off, with a surprisingly strong performance by Horn (especially since he was competing with Squire's riveting work elsewhere) on bass and as all sorts of manic depravity and brilliant stuff turns up unexpectedly without a moment's notice. Howe is again superb, and the vocals and lyrics... and the whole song... it's just too catchy. Great song.

The closer Tempus Fugit is widely regarded as a highlight of the album, but I don't really agree. Aside from the slightly too silly 'Yes', it is simply jumpy and uplifting consistently. Not a note of ambiguity, not much variation of the tempo. The bass riff is pretty much run into the ground, and the piece just feels like it's a kid who's had a bit too much helium. This griping aside, the lyrics are brilliant, and every individual part is solid, it just lacks the soul-wrenching use of tempos and dynamics that made classic Yes to me.

Now, we hit the bonus material. The single edits are passable material, with Run Through The Light emphasising the piano a little more, and adding in a couple of odd variations. Have We Really Got To Go Through This features a lot of Howe's soloing, and is pretty good from that angle, but otherwise not that interesting. Satellite is another meandering instrumental, and, while a good example of the players reconciling their prowess with the style, it's simply not inspiring. Yes aren't, in my eyes, cut for pure instrumentals. A Tempus Fugit tracking session is a bit pointless, even if it sounds a little less excessive than the end return. The one of White Car is slightly more interesting and lyrically extended.

Dancing Through The Light is an amusing dance version of Run Through The Light, but predictably far less catchy and compelling. Golden Age is rather better, with a decent Anderson Vocal, as well as an unintrusive backing that works some of the time, even if Wakeman's tone feels a bit out of place. Not a lost gem, but not terrible, either. Into The Tower opens with a rather good duet between Wakeman's organ and Anderson's vocals, before White adds himself in to add some rock elements. Far better than most of the other bonus we get on here, actually an album-quality track. Friend Of A Friend is also quite strong, with good performances from Squire and White, it's a shame that the synth tones again feel slightly odd, especially on the longer notes. So, as a set of bonuses, pretty mediocre, but there's some good stuff in there, and the album's ending isn't so absorbing that the bonuses will break the mood.

So, overall, this is a very good and distinctly progressive album. The gut-wrenching Machine Messiah is unmissable for anyone who is even slightly interested in Yes, and I feel that Jon Anderson's presence isn't much missed. In addition, it's pretty consistent, with only the last couple of tracks letting down at all for basically undefinable reasons, and Squire is on full throttle throughout. Four stars, essential listening, matching up to a couple of the classic era albums in quality, in my opinion.

Rating: Four Stars
Favourite Song: Machine Messiah or Run Through The Light. Should be the former, definitely, but I have no taste :p

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Odd to open, definitely, wasn't quite sure how to introduce it.

And, yet another review, I'm being quite productive this week, no?

Review 65, Grace Under Pressure, Rush, 1984

This reviewer, whose Rush discography is somewhat sketchy after Moving Pictures, and who considers Caress of Steel a timeless classic, but the acclaimed MP mostly mediocre, might not be expected to come out in favour of Grace Under Pressure. However, I admit to liking the album, and there are only a couple of weak spots in the otherwise solid synth-pop/rock we have on offer. Peart's lyrics are up to scratch, mostly, and feel quite natural in a lot of places, while the artsy edges are in place throughout the album. The first four tracks, at least, are pretty strong cuts, and while the second side trails off a bit, it is generally listenable, with a good closer, and all in all, it leaves a positive impression.

Distant Early Warning opens the album quite tensely, with some spacious work from the synths and guitars, as well as a clever bass part working away in the background. Geddy Lee delivers with surprising verve an enjoyable set of lyrics, and his bass is a highlight throughout the song, as even in the bright chorus, it adds something deeper in. The drum part is well-incorporated, leaving plenty of space as well as accomplishing fills. My only small criticism is that the synth-led sections sometimes seem a little feeble in comparison with the guitar-based ones with a nice synth ditty in the background.

Afterimage is another solid song, this time drawing a little more on Alex Lifeson's guitar, though the synths also add in more ideas, including growly noises, standard hums and piano-ish tones. Peart gives a good AOR beat without losing sight of inventive choices and a set of wistful lyrics. Much as the song itself is tolerable, the real highlight is the surprisingly atmospheric instrumental section, complete with an interesting guitar solo.

Even stronger, however, is Red Sector A, which combines some mesmerising rhythms with some damn fine lyrical lines ('shouting guards and smoking guns... will cut down the unlucky ones'). The percussion, the guitar riffs, the vocals... they simply rock. Oddly, the lead synths seem appropriate, and never pompous. The instrumental break, combining a weird but wonderful guitar tone with building synths, is well-handled. It is sad that the line 'I must help my mother to stand up straight' slightly damages the mood, but otherwise a damn fine song.

The Enemy Within is an utterly kitschy bass-driven song with synth paps and light guitar additions in the chorus, and yet, it is great fun. Geddy Lee's slightly screechy voice again hits the spot excellently, as do the percussion parts. Far too catchy, and I love it.

The Body Electric's sci-fiish themes without any mystery or real catch. The lyrics aren't irritating, just not nearly as interesting as I'd like them to be. Nevermind, onto the music. Again, it's quite non-distinctive, with a fairly repetitive drum part and a mix that simply feels like everything is playing loud, but not a lot goes on. The vocals also don't seem to match (erk, especially on '1-0-0, 1-0-0, 1-0-0-1 SOS', though Lifeson's quirky solo is up to scratch, as is the superb bass playing accompanying that. It's not really a terrible song, it just eludes the attention span completely.

Kid Gloves, however, does edge on the nerves a little, with its rhythm simply not catching like The Enemy Within, though the musical premise is pretty similar, and the lyrics, even I admit there's some merit in there somewhere, repeat too much, and has a catchphrase that simply feels off to me. Even the solo isn't very redeeming, just squeaky and technical. Again, I get the whole, everything loud, but not a lot going on, vibe, probably unfairly.

The tenser Red Lenses, carefully using sharp guitar lines and bass jabs, as well as a very quirky percussion part and a totally redundant synth (in the main part of the song at least). The lyrics and vocals have shaped up a little, and of especial note is an interesting instrumental section with tympani notes and a slightly more valid synth, even if I feel the song could have dropped them without hurting. Peart holds up a drum riff under a vocal quite well, and the song's overall mystery vibe works well enough. Overall a good piece, but it simply didn't need to bother with the synths at all, and they drag it down a bit.

The surprisingly dark Between The Wheels starts with an insistent synth riff and a killer guitar soloish that reminds me a bit of some of Howe's work on Drama (Machine Messiah, in particular, I think). Geddy Lee appears to have re-adapted himself much better to the tenser atmospheric vocals, and, despite what is a mixed set of lyrics, carries the song excellently. The instrumental work is excellent, and the mix again feels quite balanced, giving everything the space to shine. Peart in particular stands out, and the piece as a whole has a darkened vibe that lends the album a slightly greater credibility after a frail middle. Great ending.

So, a synth pop album, I admit, but a good synth pop album. Recommended for fans of Rush, or anyone interested in exploring some of the band's work after the obvious classics and Moving Pictures. I also have to confess that I genuinely like a lot of Peart's drumming on this album, while I'm more indifferent to lots of his more well-reputed part, so, something else to recommend there. Three well-earned stars from me

Rating: Three stars

Favourite Track: Red Sector A

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Thoughts welcome, as always, though I'm particularly anxious to hear what people think of the Meddle review (it's not that obscure an album), and whether the analysis thing was a valid move.

Review 63, Salisbury, Uriah Heep, 1971

It is, on occasion, startling how much a group can develop in the space of an album. The substantial space in both style and quality between From Genesis To Revelation and Trespass, or The Yes Album and Fragile ('rawr') illustrate this. So does Uriah Heep's second offering, the superb Salisbury. Aside from really sorting out the harmonies and adding a modicum of tasteful delicacy that Very 'Eavy Very 'Umble generally lacked, the band have both really excelled in producing strong, soft songs and in spreading their wings in a surprising number of directions rather than redredging and developing the more successful material of the predecessor.

Aside from the most obvious artistic leaning, which is a sixteen minute-long suite that includes both brass and woodwind session musicians, the folk tastes of Lady In Black and bizarre vocal choices suggest a band that is genuinely making an effort to move beyond their heavy blues background, and hitting the mark brilliantly. The album isn't quite perfect, with a couple of less fascinating moments, but it is damned good, and should be a part of every discerning progger's collection.

The opener Bird Of Prey shows off the features of the new and improved Uriah Heep: a range of heavy, but non-dominating riffs, superb and eclectic vocals and harmonies, and a set of great lyrics to go with them. The piece opens quite neatly with a guitar-based rhythm complimented with Ken Hensley's classy organ flourishes, while David Byron demonstrates his high, rounded, and, on occasion, screechy vocals and ability to fit into and leap off harmonies. The rhythm section provides a solid background for this, changing as the leads do. Of especial greatness, however, is the kicking guitar/organ riff that breaks out towards the end, occasionally pausing for a harmonised 'ah' at a whim. A good opener, and a formidable statement of intent.

The following The Park is much softer as a song, with high and almost female vocal from Byron with complimentary harmonies. Hensley takes up his turn on vibes as well as a softer organ part, while Mick Box contributes absolutely lush acoustic melodies and Paul Newton's edgeless bass throbs an echo of the vocals. The lyrical content is superb and in a rather folky anti-war style without any of the unfortunate myopic and self-righteous ring that I get from some folk sources. Again, quirk sets in, with a bizarre organ-bass duet accompanied by quiet background noises and some decent percussion ideas. A final verse rounds off the piece nicely. Again, superb, but in a very different style.

The somewhat heavier Time To Live is perhaps my favourite piece of the album, and David Byron alone basically explains that. After a rather wallowing, though punchy opening, the piece breaks out into full flow with wah-wah and slide guitar of the highest level, a classy riff, gorgeous organ swells and a simply incredible rounded vaguely bluesy vocal with forceful, soft and almost sultry alternations, as well as some good plain Tina-Turner-like screeching. The lyrical content, though simple, is nonetheless superbly phrased, and the two insane wah-wah solos from Mick Box are unforgettable.

Lady In Black, the album's hit (and, if I remember correctly, the biggest commercial success of Uriah Heep) is almost unexpected. Aside from the neatly edgy folk lyrics and enormo-harmony-ificated vocals, the song features a good acoustic riff substantiated later on with heavier and yet completely unintrusive guitars and subtle piano additions, as well as a weird sliding bass thing. Mellotron, if I'm not totally mistaken, features subtly at one point. An odd piece, as it is both stripped down and built up at different points with no stress, and, interesting though it is, I don't find it all that stunning in an emotional way.

High Priestess, after this, is a slightly more conventional effort, although quite a good hard rock song with bursting guitars and a strong vocal, if rather unconvincing lyrical content. The mass harmonies are introduced to good effect, and a kicking rhythm section is never left behind too much. Unfortunately, it does wear a little thin by the end, and seems to be being simply run into the ground. There's nothing really blatantly wrong with it, it's just not convincing to my ears.

Salisbury, however, is a completely different story altogether. Right from the opening, aside from the lush use of oboes and various brass instruments which I can't separate well enough to justify it, Ken Hensley's organ takes on a monstrous power of its own, and the guest orchestra accomplishes its role perfectly, somehow sliding fittingly into what is essentially a big rock song, complete with a neat start-and-stop drum style and some glowing guitar and bass work. David Byron's vocal entrance is incredibly moving, soft and potent, though on a couple of very brief occasions it wanders a little too far into the land of cheese.

The kicking rock riffs and orchestral integration are pretty unique and integral to the song, which somehow uses both the classical melodies from the orchestra and standard organ or guitar soloing without one ever pushing out the other. The level of integration is simply stunning, and Paul Newton's directional bass provides another charming texture. Some incredibly funky (I mean that in the nicest possible sense of the word) riffs from Hensley add extra flavour, as do the more dejected vocals of Byron's developing story ('well we tried/Our love inside/just crumpled up and died') and breathtaking harmonies. The sheer emotive power of his exhorting 'alone again! How could you leave me alone again? I don't wanna be alone again!' needs to be heard, and I have no doubt that even those more exclusively heading into the 'symphonic' realm, who might be inclined to avoid bands so linked to hard rock, should not miss the overall majesty, effect and quality of Salisbury. Mick Box's explosive guitar solo is also vital listening. An unmissable piece, no matter how often I say that.

Now, bonus material in a line-per-song summary. Simon The Bullet Freak: Great, awesome bass and piano riff, great vocals, a good developed blues piece. Might not have heard the original. Here Am I: urk, a little repetitive and ineffectual, with an irritating harmony. Some great moments, though. The rest is essentially slightly altered versions and single cuts from the album, and though all sound perfectly decent, there aren't really any I'd instantly snatch over the original. Ending with Time to Live, though, is just a superb idea.

So, overall, this falls barely short of the masterpiece mark, but on occasion it does lack and the unimpressive High Priestess is a small drag on the album. Certainly essential listening, though, and the album's biggest highs (ending of The Park, Time To Live, Salisbury) are amazing. Recommended to all, and the devotion it receives is entirely deserved.

Rating: Four Stars
Favourite Track: Time To Live or Salisbury. It changes depending on the exact moment of each that I'm listening to.

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Another review from me, now. Thoughts altogether welcome.

@mickstafa, many thanks, though I think that the issue with Van Der Graaf Generator is that they've produced four albums (at least, I only have five at the moment) which I could all argue with a semblance of objectivity to be better than the other three of those. Really depends on preference.

Review 62, H to He, Who Am The Only One, Van Der Graaf Generator, 1970

The hardest-hitting, perhaps the greatest, prog albums have an essence of their own, a certain SellingEnglandbythepoundness or Brainsaladsurgeryness (Plato can do it, so can I ;) ), rather than being a collection of song ideas with or without an underlying theme, by the same artist, in the same year. Htohewhoamtheonlyoneness is an oddity. Despite the fluent theme of loneliness, the songs are thoroughly different, with fiery dissonance and calm beauty coexisting within the album, and initially, the album, and indeed some of the songs. Nevertheless, regardless of the range, the elusive feel of the album is there, and impacts more powerfully every time. For me, such an album is without doubt a masterpiece.

That waffle aside, H To He Who Am The Only One is a superior effort to its perfectly good predecessor in several ways. First, the lyrics have really fallen into place, and have moved on from simply interesting and well-constructed to incredible emotional journeys with enigmas and clever wordplay incorporated in them. This album in particular is lyrically one of the two or three strongest that I own. Second, Hammill's vocals, which were previously exquisite and superb, have begun to flex themselves inquisitively, trying out new ideas constantly rather than going for a sound/tone and sticking to it for a song. Finally, the songs are slightly more distinctive to my ears, which is merely a personal preference issue.

Where we get to the really interesting features of the album, though, are the production and the album's basic 'features'. The production is clear and appropriate, with a very clear drum and bass sound leaving no mess or unhelpful material in the background to interfere with Bantom's crystalline organ chords, yet no feeling that there should be something else there when the organ or piano drops out. There's the space for the two leads to intertwine over the top of the organ and bass, while Hammill can display his incredible range, and the under-appreciated Guy Evans can use his classic rolling percussion sound with intense fills to full effect. And while all this goes on, there's no feeling of crowding, and nonetheless the feeling of loneliness, loss, rage, rejection and, finally, escape goes straight from the speakers to the soul. Van Der Graaf Generator at one of their many finest moments, and an incredible experience if you can really immerse yourself in it.

Killer opens the album with style, moodiness and a thick organ-sax-piano riff that manages to, with supple variations, hold up the piece perfectly. The parable of the fish (coincidentally, this makes the album lyrically presenting loneliness in sea-break-land-break-space progression), representing men isolating themselves through alienating those around them, is delivered with a dark, almost watery, vocal, and the entire presentation gives a unique dark-sea feel (as opposed to the sweeping majesty of Echoes or Firth Of Frith). Hugh Bantom's organ-work is viciously choppy, using swelling jabs and swipes to full effect as a counterpart to the smoother (at least, outside of the solo) sax, while the first really Van Der Graaf Generator piano makes its appearance (as do brief, but brilliant acoustic swirls that appear and then are gone with no grating whatsoever), directing the mood intensifying without melodrama, and substantiating the background for some of the zany soloist parts on occasion. Guy Evans gives a phenomenally strong performance, keeping up a consistently interesting and mobile background percussion performance with his characteristic second-long intrusions on the lead. However, no description of the song would be complete without an acknowledgement of the three mindblowing solos, a swirling, aggressive, grinding noise, probably from Bantom's general direction, Jackson's chaotic sax whirlwind and his later gorgeous, smoother solo. Of interest, too, is the ending. Where it appears to be scaling up to the classic bluesy crescendo, the band have the restraint and taste to conclude it quite decisively without bowing to that convention. This leaves a smooth segue to...

The beautiful and harrowing A House With No Door. Very much softer than its predecessor, but no less moving. Beautiful piano melodies take the lead, substantiated and backed by a more prominent and directional bass, and Evans' drumming and percussion taking an equally impressive and prominent role in a soft song (another reason I consider the man so overlooked. There aren't many percussionists who can really do that for a soft song). Hammill, however, remains the main focus, with his mournful, steadily unsteady, almost self-deprecating (in feel) vocal and perfect lyrics ('There's a house with no light/All the windows are sealed/Overtaxed and strained, now nothing is revealed...inside'). His voice manages to include majesty and, in the final verse, this incredible switching between his fairly high male voice and a (perhaps falsetto is the right word, but I doubt it) near-female, equally high, yet distinctly different sound flawlessly. An unforgettable vocal and lyrical performance, which is only made sweeter by the quality of the rest of the piece's components. Jaxon contributes a lush flute melody, with the unusual backing of an odd organ setting as well as the piece's basic components, and then heightening the feel with the addition of saxes (I think it could be the two-saxophones-at-once trick). Soft organ adds a touch of tasteful depth to the piece's conclusion, which is reached by a lush piano-bass duet. So different from the opener, but equally perfect.

The Emperor In His War Room is a third style again, with a more earthly vocal from Hammill, emphasising the sharp edges of the imagery-thick, cleverly constructed and menacing lyrics about the fall and isolation of a dictator. Musically, the piece is very much augmented by the presence of the far-famed Robert Fripp, first on delightfully vicious acoustics, and then in a bizarre, winding solo running parallel to the solid work of the band. Another chief feature is the presence of the flute (complete with a couple of effects) as a lead instrument, and some very solid bass and organ-lines contrasting with its airy, escapist feel. Menace and tension ooze from the piece, but also a genuine pity for the subject. Evans extensive militaristic percussion provides another burst of intensity. Here lie both the tense atmospheres that would make A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers and the more conventional features of H To He. The use of contrast is very strongly and subtly done, and the piece slows and thins very carefully to alter the listener's emotions.

Lost is a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very special piece to me. In addition to being one of at most five musical pieces that have reduced me to tears, it is so utterly, perfectly romantic. Hammill takes one of the most conventional, generic topics of rock and writes about it poetically, intelligently and with feeling. The delivery matches, stretching with desperation, almost-weeping with loss, and moving to majesty, anger, sadness and longing with a natural flow. The music, though at first I was somewhat taken aback by the frantic nature of the opening sax/organ line, is to match. The opening theme is often reprised much more slowly in the later parts of the song, softly echoing and remembering the perceived frantic passion of the old relationship. The playing is perfect throughout, with Jaxon's brief, emotive spins and warm, but mournful, hums making full use of the human breath resemblance of the sax. Piano and organ are both handled in much the same style, smoothly, but with a constant feeling of utter and crushing loss. Evans again contributes fantastically, never breaking the feel with his style, though even including a very subtle and low-key use of something quite like the eighties drum thwack. The bass-work is smooth, clear, and independent, giving emphasis wherever necessary. Individually, all of these components are superb, but together the scale and beauty leaves me stunned every time. The interplay between sax and organ leads, coinciding with the most exemplary of the shining organ chords earlier referenced, simply has to be heard. I wish I could describe it better, but Lost goes so far beyond words that these are insufficient. This song alone would justify an album.

Pioneers over C (both a brilliant pun, and potentially a double-scientific reference, C being Carbon and c being the speed of light) begins with a soft, restrained rhythm and a crackling swirl, feeling distant (especially in the drum part, which sounds like a bongo to me). This initial distance is then varied throughout the song for force and effect, sometimes glaring with stark bass parts and at others slipping away with soft background organ and acoustic leads. Hammill again gives an absolutely stellar (pun not intended) performance, slipping away from our consciousness and roaring back into it, proclaiming exuberantly 'We are the lost ones', before slipping back around his own vocals. Harmonies are used with attention to detail, and the brilliantly stark lyrics are furthered by the stunning delivery. Aside from a slightly wider percussion set, and a much more prominent use of acoustic rhythms than previously, Pioneers Over C also features a greater role for the bass in providing active direction. Jaxon again manages to steal the show with sax bursts, including a particularly avant-garde breathless wandering. Pianos wander from ear to ear, and the organ provides both subtle and overt additions, as well as a rocking riff towards the end. The dark-space atmosphere (like the previous dark-water and dark-earth ones) is sustained flawlessly throughout, and the band clearly has a conviction in what they are doing that overrides any resistance. I have actually ended up on one occasion staring out of my window holding up my arms to the stars, so carried away by the atmosphere.

So, in conclusion to the rather long preceding passage, Htohewhoamtheonlyoneness not only exists, but it is also utterly incredible, beautiful and tragic. In fact, it is almost unique in its effect on me. So, with it being my second favourite album of all time, I can only give it my most exaggerated score. Go forth, Htohewhoamtheonlyoneness, and prosper!

Rating: Six Stars

Favourite Track: Lost, though all are incredible.

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Trapezotes. 'nuff said.

What can I say, except that it's better than being a Rush fanboy?

Otherwise, that's three six star albums so far, and I didn't really expect H To He to reach that point until very recently, given that I did prefer Godbluff and Still Life at one point. Did I do it justice?

I considered the alternate review involving the immortal Byron-penned opening:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes
Thus mellow'd by that tender light
which heaven to gaudy day denies

But decided that it didn't really entirely fit the album, even though there is somewhere a link there I will one day realise before kicking myself.