Review of Barclay James Harvest's Octoberon

Released 1976

"I stepped out on the guard rail, saw the crowds slowly part Heard a voice shouting 'don't jump, please for god's sake let me move my car!'
Felt a hand on my shoulder, heard a voice cry 'just in time!'
Felt the quick push, felt the air rush Felt the sidewalk, fell in line."

I professed in my review of Everyone Is Everybody Else that I was introduced to Barclay James Harvest through my Father's extraordinary moderate interest in prog; essentially, other than BJH, his only other prog interest that I was aware of was (later period) The Moody Blues.

Although I knew EIEE almost subliminally for years, I didn't buy a copy until years later. Octoberon then became my first Barclay James Harvest purchase. I'm sure that it was a requested present for either a birthday or Christmas. I would have chosen Octoberon specifically for no other reason than it's wonderful cover. I've said before that while Genesis are usually seen as the most forthright quintessentially English prog rock band and are credited with the successful evocation of a bygone pastoral age, I feel that there are a few other bands who easily parallel this sentiment; Traffic being one and Barclay James Harvest being another. The cover depicts a fabulously ornate portrayal of a May Queen; undeniably pastorally English and the subject matter of one of the songs contained herein. I also loved the lettering. I liked to imagine that on original pressings of the album, the the lettering was embossed or even stitched in place.

The World Goes on begun with the extremely mellow acoustically lead, quite folk like theme I would have hoped for. The vocal was, and I've said this before, very Floyd-like; specifically akin I think to Rick Wright. With a gorgeous Floydian guitar solo and the expected liberal use of mellotron, this picked up where EIEE leaves off and therefore doesn't disappoint.

The pace remains sedate and stately for Mayday and indeed the whole album, hardly raising the pulse but extremely effective. Any review of either a BJH album or of their career as a whole cannot resist describing the band as nearly men, forever living in the shadow of their more successful multi0platinum selling peers, usually Pink Floyd and / or The Moody Blues. Indeed, I've done it here myself. However, I think that this view undervalues the their contribution to the prog canon. Yes, of course there are similarities between these bands, but this should be celebrated rather than derided. It may be easy to compare the closing choral section of May Day with parts of Pink Floyd's Atom Heart Mother, but that is unfair as it works in both contexts. I don't believe that critics of the band can have it both ways: if the BJH guitar style is so similar to David Gilmour, why are the skills of the Pink Floyd guitarist placed on a pedestal whilst BJH' s close approximation is seen as less valuable?

Perhaps it is Barclay James Harvest's lack of a 'message' or large theme underpinning their work which leaves them often categorised as second rate. That said, there can be few bands who have so effectively specialised in doom laden motifs and songs to slit your wrists to, and whilst perhaps they may not therefore be a band who can get a party moving along, as purveyors of this particular niche, I, for one think that they are very accomplished. I'd certainly rather spend my time listening to BJH as opposed to The Cure, for example.

The pinnacle of Barclay James Harvest's career, I believe is the song 'Suicide?'. If you are unfamiliar with it, I would urge you to acquire a copy at your earliest convenience, sit in a darkened room, remove all sharp objects and enjoy. I remember clearly as if it were yesterday (as opposed to twenty five years ago) the hairs standing up on the back of neck the first time I played this track. Why these four boys from Oldham were so obsessed with all things maudlin is unknown to me and how none of them went the way of Kurt Cobain, such is their apparent affiliation with self-induced death, is a miracle. At the climax of the song, the protagonist walks slowly to the roof of a building where, in the end, he jumps, accompanied by the most heart stoppingly effective sound effect that I've yet heard committed to record. It is genuinely disturbing but a staggeringly effect piece of music.

The oddest thing of all with BJH, is that they so skillfully combined themes of depression and death with some of the most beautiful orchestrations of the period. In a perverse sort of way, I like the fact that BJH are seen as nearly men. That way, all of their many fans, amonsgt whom I count myself, can grin smugly in the knowledge that we are members of a relatively exclusive club.