Credits to Mr. Covach Please

 

 

The history of the early days of Genesis is one of the better-known tales of prog lore.  Four of the original group members—Tony Banks, Peter Gabriel, Anthony Phillips, and Michael Rutherford—attended an upscale private boys' school called Charterhouse.  As early as 1966, Tony and Peter had a group called The Garden Wall, while Mike and Ant were in The Anon.  The Garden Wall played 60s rhythm and blues—numbers like Percy Sledge's "When a Man Loves a Woman" and a soul version of Simon and Garfunkel's "I am a Rock"—while The Anon played Beatles and Stones covers.  It wasn't long before the four got together to record some original music though.  In 1967 the group recorded five tunes (with Chris Stewart on drums), and it was this tape that made it into the hands of Charterhouse graduate Jonathan King.  King had had some success in the pop-music business as both a singer (he had a 1965 hit called "Everybody's Gone to the Moon") and as a songwriter, producer, and publisher ("It's a Good News Day," a hit for Hedgehoppers Anonymous).  King was impressed enough by what he heard to send the group into the studio to record more tunes.  The new songs seemed a bit too complicated to King, however.  Tony and Peter, thinking that this was their big break in the music biz and afraid of losing King's support, wrote a song that they hoped would please their patron, "The Silent Sun."  Banks and Gabriel have admitted that the song was a full-scale Bee Gees pastiche, and King has argued that it wasn't that way at all.  Whatever the real story is, the song did what it needed to do and won King back as a strong supporter of the group.  After considering the name Gabriel's Angels, the group became Genesis, and in February 1968 Decca released "The Silent Sun" as a single. 

While their first single enjoyed mild success, the second, "A Winter's Tale," was largely ignored.  Undeterred by this failure, King and the group entered the studio to record From Genesis to Revelation with new drummer John Silver on board.  The concept for the album was King's, and he has explained that he thought of it as a "history of the universe."  However promising the album may be seen to be in retrospect, it made very little impression on listeners and critics in March of 1969.  Part of this may have to do with the black cover—the Beatles had, after all, done a plain white one—and the title appearing in gold with no group name indicated; apparently the album was often misfiled into the religious bins at record stores!  One review that the album did get was kind, pointing to the band's promise and comparing Gabriel with Roger Daltrey (which pleased Peter very much).  But the group were unhappy with the way the album turned out, and especially with the strings that King added to the tracks.   

By 1970 Genesis were in the studio once more with a new drummer, John Mayhew.  With Tony Stratton Smith managing the group and John Anthony producing, Trespass had a far better chance of breaking through than its predecessor.  From the opening moments of "Looking for Someone," it is clear that the band has made significant progress over the year and a half since the previous album.  There are many great moments on the album, and it contains what would become a staple in the band's live act, "The Knife."  On Trespass, the characteristic Genesis sound is almost in place; the group plays with much more confidence and experience, giving up the three-minute radio single for longer and more involved arrangements.  But it might all have ended there.  Anthony Phillips had been developing an severe case of performance anxiety.  When his stage fright actually began to affect his physical health, he was forced to quit the group.  Remembering Ant's departure, Rutherford has remarked that this was the closest the group ever came to breaking up (and considering the subsequent personnel changes the group has weathered, that is significant).  But the decision was made to search for another guitarist—and a new drummer while they were at it—and with the addition of Steve Hackett and Phil Collins, the classic Genesis line-up was complete.

Released in November 1971, Nursery Cryme begins the run of classic Genesis progressive-rock albums that would extend to The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway of 1974 and establish one important high-water mark in the history of the style.  Beginning with "The Musical Box" and culminating in "The Fountain of Salmacis," Genesis charge through "The Return of the Giant Hogweed" and "Harold the Barrel," among others.  Hackett's more aggressive playing heightens the introduction to "Hogweed," and his general concern for creating musical textures ("to strive beyond existing stagnant music forms," as he put it in a newspaper ad) permeates the record.  Collins's virtuosic drumming locks in nicely with Rutherford's agile bass playing; together they drive the tunes forward as in the "The Musical Box," which features the most powerful and dramatic ending the group had recorded thus far.  A year later (1972) Genesis released Foxtrot.  While containing such classic Genesis tracks as "Watcher of the Skies" and "Get 'em Out by Friday," the album's highpoint is easily "Supper's Ready."  In fact, "Supper's Ready," like Yes's "Close to the Edge" or ELP's "Trilogy"—all released in 1972; what was in the water over there?!—can be seen as an exemplar of what was best about British prog in the 1970s. 

Genesis Live was released in July 1973, and the band's next studio album, Selling England by the Pound appeared in fall of the same year.  The album contains four long tracks and three shorter ones.  Of the shorter ones, "I Know What I Like (in your Wardrobe)" became the group's first hit single.  The others are "More Fool Me," which features Phil Collins on lead vocals, and an instrumental piece by Steve Hackett called "After the Ordeal," which was almost left off the album but was eventually included after one of the band's famous democratic votes.  Another short piece, "Aisle of Plenty," is actually a reprise of music from "Dancing with the Moonlit Night," and follows immediately on the end of "The Cinema Show," rounding off the album.  The longer pieces are "Dancing with the Moonlit Night," "Firth of Fifth," "The Battle of Epping Forest," and "The Cinema Show." 

A nice feature of "Dancing with the Moonlit Night" is the way the beginning verses build, gradually adding new instruments along the way.  After Gabriel opens the tune with a solo vocal line, the acoustic twelve string then enters (0:10) in the accompaniment.  Hackett's electric guitar can be heard at 0:20, and Banks's organ at 0:25.  Finally, Banks's majestic grand piano chimes in at 0:52.  At 1:19 Collins's drums enter, Hackett's guitar remains, Rutherford switches from twelve string to electric bass, and Banks's piano arpeggios are replaced by barely audible Mellotron strings, which give way to Mellotron vocal chorus at 1:50.  All this builds up to the menacing passage that begins at 2:23.  Already in the first three minutes of the record, then, the hand of polished professionals can be detected in the subtle orchestration described here.  It's not just that they use a lot of different instrumental timbres in quick succession; it's that the way these timbres are manipulated allows the music to breathe dynamically, building and pulling back, and then pushing forward to a heavier and more urgent musical section.  Large-scale reorchestration of passages can be found throughout "Firth of Fifth" as well.  The opening piano fanfare section (0:00-1:07) returns at 4:33 and forward, now set for the full group with the synthesizer taking the main melodic line; it also closes the tune at 9:17 to the end, here with the grand piano accompanied by phase-shifted electric piano.  The quiet flute section beginning at 3:23 returns with Hackett's powerful guitar taking the lead at 6:28 and transforming a previously delicate interlude into a driving and wailing instrumental tour-de-force.

 

 

by the way i will be posting some more covach and also other obscure articles i found in my endless searching...

 

Cheers

 

 

This is from George Starostin:

SELLING ENGLAND BY THE POUND

Year Of Release: http://starling.rinet.ru/music/z1973.htm - 1973
Record rating = 10
Overall rating = http://starling.rinet.ru/music/ratings.htm#14 - 14

One of the most diverse, funny, pathetic, bombastic, mystic, and beautiful prog-rock albums ever.

Best song: DANCING WITH THE MOONLIT KNIGHT

Track listing: 1) Dancing With The Moonlight Knight; 2) I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe); 3) Firth Of Fifth; 4) More Fool Me; 5) The Battle Of Epping Forest; 6) After The Ordeal; 7) The Cinema Show; 8) Aisle Of Plenty.

Yup, either this or Genesis' only reason for existence. Truly, if this one were not my first Genesis album, I doubt that I would ever think of getting deeper into the band. Nursery Cryme and Foxtrot might have been okay, but you have to work really hard in order to appreciate even some of the material, and a lot of it I still treat as absolute filler. Not so with this truly timeless effort. For once, the band seem to have resolved all of their problems. For once, the instrumental passages are suddenly not so boring or even not boring at all - and, quite often, they are downright beautiful. For once, Steve Hackett gets quite a lot of chances to make good use of his instrument (even though he's still exploiting that silly pedal of all things). For once, Tony Banks neglects his synths to play some fresh, exciting piano. For once, Gabriel puts a little bit of everything into his lyrics - from plain, good old-fashioned humour to ultra-bombastic, but still clever lyrics. And, for the first time, Phil Collins gets to shine with a self-penned song, and it doesn't suck! Now that's what I call an album.

Okay now, if we prefer to refer to exact track names, then this is what I'd say. The album opener, 'Dancing With The Moonlit Knight', is my current bet for best Genesis song ever. To my mind, the hidden potential of Gabriel's voice didn't come to light until the opening, almost accappella lines, in which majesty alternates with irony and sarcasm with lamentation. The instrumental break is superb, with the synths propelling everything to a fast, butt-kicking groove and Hackett's guitar catching up with the keyboards with gusto. And the closing section, with Mike Rutherford endlessly repeating the same acoustic four notes over and over with synth noises in the background, is simply beautiful, though it might be about thirty or forty seconds overlong. Then comes another favourite - their 'hit single' (which I put in quotes because it wasn't really a hit single, but it was the only thing close to a hit single in Gabriel's epoch) 'I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)'. It demonstrates one thing: that Gabriel has finally become able to come up with short, but still thoroughly enjoyable pop tunes. But the lyrics? 'But I remember a voice from the past/Gambling only plays when you're winning/Had to thank old Miss Mort for schooling a failure'. Groovy. I love this song, too. It has it all: complex, but catchy verses, a bombastic refrain, and, above all, Phil's ingenious drumming (just listen to those rolls all over the place). Classic!

Next? 'Firth Of Fifth', yet another fan favourite. I expected to hate it because it was so pompous and self-indulgent, with lyrics ranking among the band's most pretentious (I wasn't even a bit surprised when I learned their author was Tony Banks and not Peter), but I can't deny the melody. And the instrumental part strikes me as being one of the most intelligently written pieces of music I've ever heard among prog rock tunes. The way that the tearful flute part, the sorrowful piano part, the upbeat synth part and the lamenting guitar part all mesh with each other and participate in creating a complete 'wall of tension'... wow, and then this 'wall of tension' suddenly comes crashing down with a 'consolation' synth part. Wow, now that's really clever. I can imagine that hearing this live might result in a catharsys. Classic, too. And then, after all this bombast, we suddenly go on into a three minute acoustic folkish ditty that introduces us to the songwriting and singing talents of Mr Phil Collins. Clever guy: actually, he can write a good song and knows how to sing it, too! Some might find 'More Fool Me' a bit too saccharin-ee for their tastes, but me, I'm just alright. I do agree that he was banally ripping off the Beatles, though, because sometimes it sounds like something John Lennon might have taped around as a demo, then thrown into the wastebin. That's a compliment to Phil Collins, in case you haven't understood.

Another epic - 'The Battle Of Epping Forest' - well, it might not be a fan favourite, but I've slowly grown addicted to it. For me, this is one fine damn jolly amusing song, with Gabriel just having lots of fun in the studio as well as, once again, demonstrating the unlimited capacity of his voice. Overlong? Hell, anything that's eleven minutes long is overlong. But it rarely becomes boring, that's for sure. There's a lot of catchy hooks all over the place, melodical as well as lyrical, and the part about the 'reverend' falling into the jaws of sin is downright hilarious, even if it really has nothing to do with the 'battle of Epping Forest' by itself. Unfortunately, this is where the album slowly starts to give in, because the final two songs (the instrumental 'After The Ordeal' and another lengthy suite, 'The Cinema Show') just don't thrill me that much. Not that they're bad: were they placed on, say, Nursery Cryme, they could have become the highlights there. On here, they just sound a little weak: 'After The Ordeal' is, let's face it, hardly necessary with the far superior instrumental arrangements on 'Firth Of Fifth', while 'The Cinema Show' borrows its melody from the first parts of 'Supper's Ready' and, even with that, displays very little energy. Because Selling England is, in its essence, an energetic album - the one that keeps your blood flowing most of the time. 'Dancing With The Moonlit Knight' shakes you, 'I Know What I Like' kicks you, 'Firth Of Fifth' simply moves you and 'Epping Forest' plainly confuses you. 'The Cinema Show' is more like 'Musical Box': it might thrill you, but it sure don't inspire you or rouse you. Not that everything needs to rouse you, of course, but still... but still, shucks! there's five great songs in a row, resulting in thirty-five minutes worth of great music, plus two good songs. Not to mention that the last minute and a half of 'Cinema Show' is really an independent ditty called 'Aisle Of Plenty' which is actually a reprise of the best part on 'Dancing With The Moonlit Knight'. Good lads! If you dig intelligent British prog rock at all, you can't live without this record. It's great to the point of being my favourite prog rock album of the year. Which year? Why, this year, of course! What other year I'd be living in?

 

Actually is She , and also i do like sometimes his writing style, but... she is a pain in the ass with sometimes clever critique.

 

  one of his favourite quotes...

Of course is Banks best work, but she had "strange reactions" to evident things...

 

and by the way she called "Banksynths" what a

 

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