1 track by 1 band that best sums up prog for you

It is all that VDGG has come to personify and more. 'A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers' was the first track I had heard from this amazing band. It's unbelievable in every aspect, running for an awesome 23 minutes, it tells the story of an eyewitness who sees the unspeakable as he feels his body fading in a storm while voyaging on a doomed ship. It reminds one of Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner (check Iron Maiden's take on this poem). The narrator notes “I prophesy disaster and then I count the cost. I shine but shining, dying I know that I am almost lost.” The piano gets faster and seems to be falling down an abyss. There is a brief interlude that reminds one of a ship floating on an endless ocean and we hear the lonely saxophone blasts that resemble bizarre fog horns. You can almost picture the image of a ghost ship sailing through fog and there's a genuinely creepy ambience. The song takes on a darker atmosphere and Hammill begins to use his patented gravel tone to sing of death spectres that scratch on windows, hollowed faces, and lost mastheads that pierce the freezing dark. There are several parts that flash by until the track moves to Presence of the Night/ Kosmos Tours. The saxophone really shines in this section and a weird time signature locks in, with Hammill singing “Why can't I let me live and be free, but I die very slowly alone.” A beautiful hammond sound fills the void and the tempo ignites to a frenetic pace where it spirals blissfully out of control. Then it all ends suddenly and the gorgeous piano reverberates to a melancholic contemplative Hammill who asks “Lighthouses might hold the key but can I reach the door?” It's a lovely moment after all the mayhem preceding, then the next section begins suddenly with Hammill's rasping vocals and short jagged spurts of noise from Banton and Evans, The Clot Thickens. At times the sound seems curiously off kilter, out of tune and rhythm but it all gels perfectly into the tranquil Land's End, “Stars slice horizons where the lines stand much too stark, I feel I am drowning hands stretch in the dark...” And it ends on a rather positive note in a sense where Hammill muses that “it doesn't feel so very bad now” and perhaps “the end is the start... all things are apart.” You can take what you will from the potent lyrics but all is sung with absolute conviction which makes the piece all the more intriguing. It is a ballad of gothic grandeur in every sense that constantly surprises with its complex twisting structure.