Review of Genesis' Nursery Cryme

Released 1971

"Still they're invincible,
Still they're immune to all our herbicidal battering."

The downside of occasionally ordering albums from the Britannia Music Club, was that if no-one at home to take delivery, there was the risk that the postman would leave the cardboard package in a puddle. Thus, my first copy of Nursery Cryme was decidedly damp upon arrival. The vinyl itself was unaffected, and as the cover was horribly glossy, I reasoned that it would add 'character', and effectively age it to sit more comfortably with the more prestigious faded and worn second hand albums with whom it would predominantly share the shelves.

A few years later, I compared earlier matt finished and more robustly produced editions to the glossy cheap and cheerful poor version I had acquired. Mine was certainly a poor relation. The more muted colours and matt finish were much more in keeping with Paul Whitehead's menacing Victorian frontispiece. Scanning the lyrics there were also references to this period, while other songs spoke of fantastical creatures, bizarre plants or reproduced large parts of a nursery rhyme.

First impressions suggested that the odd otherworldly presence of Trepass was being continued here. A new guitarist and drummer were present, but it looked as though I might be in for more of the same.

The Musical Box was such a complex track, with more invention and ambition than many bands pack into an entire career, that it is would be simple to focus on little else. There was a sense of maturity which manifests itself in a measured and disciplined approach to the songs ornate structure.

The opening ancient strings and the space afforded to the vocal with the occasional echo effect slowly built to create real tension. The medieval feel of Trepass was evoked with deft touches of harpsichord and a vocal harmony remarkably similar to CSN, trailing over acoustic guitar, thereby producing a very English pastoral mood, further enhanced by Gabriel's occasional flute. Three and a half minutes in, there is a pause before Tony Banks mellotron wades in, building the tempo with the drums driving a sense of awaiting drama. Steve Hackett switches from acoustic to electric, violently, rapidly but only briefly, before slowing down to the 'Old King Cole' refrain once more. There is then a guitar and keyboard battle with huge distortion on the former in a style indistinguishable (to these ears only) to Anthony Phillips, especially on The Knife.

The mellotron was much more in evidence on Nursery Cryme, and was dominating the artistry of the whole album and - to my mind - was starting to define the Genesis sound, with the guitar being used sparingly to provide textures rather than lead the way. The Fountain of Salamacis demonstrated this especially well, with a wall of mellotron sound; a sound scape used to complement vocal harmonies and the guitar is barely evident.

I shook my head in bemusement at The Return of the Giant Hogweed. A narrative about the trials and tribulations about the aforementioned plant couldn't have been further removed from the standard rock song structure prevalent in my record collection. I was at a loss to rationalise why anyone would wish to construct a song around this subject matter, but I was intrigued which I guess was the point. Their musical prowess was undoubted, with much more confidence and drama than their earlier album. There were moments where my interest sustained. The folkier passages held less ambition than the out and out epic prog moments

I saw this a much bolder album daring to be different and adventurous, knowing that the virtuosity was such that no subject matter was out of bounds.

Not a perfect album, but worth the price tag for The Musical Box. Having bought the first two Genesis albums in the order in which they had been released and having seen real progression being made, I was very keen to move on to their next release.
.