Trollheart's Journey through Prog Rock history

Album title: Freak Out!

Artiste: The Mothers of Invention

Nationality: American

Label: Verve

Year: 1966

Grade: B

Previous Experience of this Artiste: I've heard one track which I did not like, and I believe is on this album. I am not anticipating liking this but it must be experienced due to its importance in the overall development of prog rock.

Landmark value: The first real concept album, so that has to count for something. Also one of the first from a new band to allow the artiste almost total creative freedom and provide him with a virtually unlimited budget with which to realise his vision. One of the first, I think, to take direct aim at the established American way of life and to lampoon it in music.

Track Listing: Hungry freaks, daddy/ I ain't got no heart/ Who are the brain police?/Go cry on somebody else's shoulder/ Motherly love/ How could I be such a fool/ Wowie zowie/ You didn't try to call me/ Any way the wind blows/ I'm not satisfied/ You're probably wondering why I'm here/ Trouble every day/ Help I'm a rock ((i) Okay to tap dance (ii) In memoriam, Edgard Varese (iii) It can't happen here)/ The return of the son of monster magnet ((i) Ritual dance of the child-killer (ii) Nullis pretii (No commercial potential))

Comments: Well initially I'm surprised at how straight rock-and-roll this is, though no doubt it'll get more out there later. But I really did expect something like ten men standing on hills a mile apart and banging dustbin lids while farting. That's probably his third album. Pleasant surprise, very sixties rock with a dash of psychedelia, some great lyrics which he would of course become known and even infamous for. Who are the brain police? is that one Zappa track I mentioned that I have heard, and I can appreciate it more in the context of the album but I still don't like it. In fact, a little way in I find myself getting bored. Help, I'm a rock is where it really starts to get freaky and psychedelic, and by the end it's more or less where I expected it would be. I suppose his music goes on in this weird, experimental (heavy on the mental!) vein. Bah.

Favourite track(s): Hungry freaks, daddy, I ain't got no heart, Go cry on somebody else's shoulder, Trouble every day

Least favourite track(s):Who are the brain police?, You're probably wondering why I'm here, I'm not satisfied, Help I'm a rock, The return of the son of the monster magnet

Overall impression: Started well but fell apart about halfway. Not that I did not expect this, but by the time we were onto the third side I had lost interest and was totally bored. Did not help that it was a double album.

Personal Rating: 

Legacy Rating: 

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Even for those of us who weren't there, or old enough to appreciate being there at the time if we were, the sixties is acknowledged as one of the pivotal decades of the twentieth century. Long held conventions were being challenged, youth was on the rise and the old order was slowly crumbling. In art, poetry, literature and a rising trend towards what would become known as “mind-expanding” drugs, in sexual relationships and in man (and woman)'s relationship with the Earth, in fashion and fad, in cinemas and theatres, in schools and universities, the entire world was on a collision course. Old stood firm against the tide of young, but knew in its heart it would not be able to hold: age is the downfall of the more mature, and youth's exuberance can push it to undreamed-of heights. So, in the student riots and sit-ins and protests of the sixties, the names of new heroes and heroines coming through - Mary Quant, Andy Warhol, Bob Dylan - the old guard saw its eventual and inevitable fall, but refused to go down just yet.

Attitudes towards youth by the elders became entrenched in opposition and such buzzwords of the time as “beatniks”, “acid heads” and of course “hippies”. Later, words like “draft-dodgers” would make their way into the vocabulary of both sides, a matter of shame and disgrace for the elders, who had after all done their bit in World War II, so that these idle layabouts could waste their formative years smoking pot and listening to the wrong influences and taking a stand against authority. On the other side of the fence, “draft-dodgers” and “peaceniks” became badges of honour for the young; they hadn't asked for a war in southeast Asia, they had nothing against the Viet Cong: why should they fight and die in another man's war? Their parents may have held fast to certain principles, but that didn't mean they had to. The old guys didn't get it: this was a new era, an age of love and brotherhood and understanding, and war was not on the agenda.

It stood to reason, then, that these “bright young things”, the rising force of youth and the hope for the future would not be content to listen to their parents' music, no more than they shared their outmoded values. They wanted something different, something happening, something now. And if it wasn't available, why then they would create it. How hard could it be? In a kind of reverse echo of the punk movement of the late seventies, everyone suddenly began joining or forming bands, or “groups” as they often preferred to be known. This can be seen in the formation of acts like The Animals, The Birds, Pink Floyd, The Nice, The Moody Blues, Soft Machine, Van der Graaf Generator ... the list goes on. And these bands would speak with their own voice, not that of the establishment. They would challenge the old order, they would bring it down. Not like with punk rock, using anger and aggression and a sense of disenchantment, but with love, understanding, new perceptions and new ideas. These bands would open their minds to the endless possibilities that existed, both in music and the world at large, possibilities their “square” parents (ask your parents. Or grandparents) had closed themselves off from, ignored, refused to see. They would, to quote Jim Morrison, open the doors to perception, and if they needed some help getting there via LSD, marijuana and such, then as the Beatles once wrote, let it be.

But some bands of the sixties were content to play what we would term “normal” rock or pop, with a structured verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus-chorus pattern, and to only sing about things like love and girls and maybe cars, and fair play to them. Many of them became huge writing this sort of music and being appreciated for it. But other bands were not happy to be placed in a box, even one of their own devising, and looking at their music notation, or down at their musical instruments, they asked the question that has presaged all great discoveries in science, maths and all other disciplines: what if?

And so they began experimenting with unconventional song structures. Who says a song can only be three or four minutes long? Here: this one's seventeen! Take that, Government! I don't want to sing about girls and dates: this song's about a dragon's journey of self-awareness, achieved through the use of drugs. In your face, establishment! Guitar, bass, drums? Nah! Let's try a clarinet! A saxophone! A violin! In fact, what are those new machines you invented called again, Mr. Moog? A synth-esiser, eh? I'll have one of them: see what we can do with that! What do you think of me now, family values?

This experimentation of course was not always received with open arms by the audiences, many of whom just “didn't get it”, being too steeped in the traditions of rock and roll or pop music to be able to break through the barrier and reach beyond the boundaries. They probably thought such music only fit for college intelligentsia, dropouts and hippies. And to a degree they were right. Coming from the twin influences of jazz and folk music, via straightahead rock and roll, there was, or would be, a lot to what would become progressive rock music, and it would not be for everyone. Few prog rock bands had hit singles initially (though of course later they would, but still not anywhere as many as the more conventional rock or pop bands) and they didn't really care, concentrating more on developing their themes and ideas into often album-long tracks, sometimes so long they had to be broken up into sections, becoming suites of songs. To a great degree, in form and structure prog rock would mirror classical music, which was often long and convoluted, and went through many changes over the span of the length of a concerto or symphony. Because of this, as well as other factors, prog rock would come to be seen as an elitist form of music, a snobby form only practiced by what we would call today t**sers. Real bands didn't play prog rock, that was just w**king around, an accusation Rotten and his army of slavering punks would level at the subgenre ten years later and which, at that point, would be quite true.

But in 1966 and 1967, the dream was being born. Bands such as those already mentioned, to say nothing of a crazed genius called Zappa, a nascent Genesis and Procol Harum were all about to stop dancing to the standard music of the day and begin writing sheet music for a whole new kind of waltz, one which would take its dancers to strange new places, open their minds and allow their spirits to soar, give birth to the idea of the concept album - and album listening in general, where people had more or less just picked tracks from them before, or bought singles - nod back to the progenitors of music and point the way forward to the next progression (!) of the form. It would be a wild and crazy, often drug-fuelled ride, but if you had the imagination, the sense of adventure and the idea that the current music was stale and boring, and the desire to look beyond the obvious, break the rules and write new ones, you were going to find yourself in a wonderful new place.

These are not good things to admit when you're a proghead, and so I've decided to try to do something about it. The plan here is for me to go chronologically through the development of progressive rock, from its origins (though not too far back: I know some people talk about the Beatles having progressive albums, and Miles Davis, and others; these I won't be touching on, only those who have become or emerged as true progressive rock bands) through its heyday in the seventies to its death and then rebirth in the eighties, bringing in the evolution of progressive metal, and on to the present day, where it continues to enjoy a resurgence and constantly changes and evolves as its name implies.

Although I'm fifty-three this year (oh no!) I only got into what I would class as “my own music” when I was about 15, so that would be 1978, and once I found artistes I liked I tended to stick with them, buying all their albums and occasionally branching out a little, but I was not one who wanted to explore a genre. I found what I liked and I was happy with that. As a result, I could not in any way be said to have a comprehensive knowledge of progressive rock, certainly not a personal one, so for the most part I will have to rely on the recollections of others in order to trace the history of this oft-maligned and misunderstood subgenre of rock. To help me, I will be using mostly two books I have purchased recently, shown below. Why those? Well, to be perfectly honest, I bought my sister a Kindle for Christmas, and then thought of getting one myself I was so impressed with it. But on discovering I could download an app for my phone which would allow me to read Kindle books, a lot of expense was spared and I am now able to read e-books. So rather than wait for books to arrive in the post, I can now just download them and read them right away. Certainly saves time, and often money.

The two shown above, and one other, shown below, are the only real authoritative records I could find on progressive rock, and so I've decided to let them guide my feet on the steps of this journey I'm undertaking. I may look into some online sources too, but only for reference: I do not in any way want to plagiarise anyone's work or rob from their writings, and the books I mention are there for my own information and to allow me fill in the details I don't have or am not aware of. Wikipedia will of course play its part, as it always does in my research. Generally the way I'm going to do it is this:

Going chronologically (what other way would I go, after all?) I'll be looking at the beginnings of the subgenre, noting any important albums along the way and mini-reviewing them. Again, as this is a pretty big undertaking I won't be doing in-depth reviews, but may do a sort of bite-size format or something similar. Any albums I'm aware of, have heard or know will be noted and spoken about, and here I will bring to bear any personal knowledge or insights or memories that are appropriate. I will try to do it as a kind of book, labelling chapters in important eras, as well as year-by-year. If I can.

 I invite any progheads, or anyone interested or who has stories, information, corrections or advice to assist me: this is certainly one of the biggest undertakings I have ever attempted, so any help is certainly appreciated. Do remember though, if you intend to contribute, to keep strictly within the guidelines for chronology. In other words, don't start posting about an album released in 1972 when we're only in 1968, and so on. Which is not to say that we can't discuss same, but I'd like to try to keep the conversation pertinent to the year or era being covered at the time.

 If an album or artiste I feature here does not tally with your view of prog rock, bear in mind that I'm being guided by these authors, and while I won't slavishly follow their recommendations and advice, they obviously know more about the subject than me and I will have to mostly defer to their expertise. However, if you feel there's an artiste I'm not covering, or I'm covering someone I shouldn't be in this context, feel free to let me know.