Review of Queen's Queen II

Released 1973

"So listen mothers everywhere
To just one mother's son
You'll get forgotten all the way
If you don't let them have their fun
Forget regrets, and just remember
It's not so long since you were young."

I've chosen to step temporarily out of the strict chronology of this blog with good reason. I chose The Dark Side Of The Moon as my first review based on the fact that, at the time, I considered it my first true encounter with prog, which started my life long love affair with the genre. It was only upon reflection that I began to acknowledge the prog credentials of several other albums which I knew and loved pre-Floyd. On that basis, I have allowed myself the license to occasionally step backwards and interrupt the natural historical flow of this blog. Therefore I feel duty bound to include a number of examples from bands like Led Zeppelin and Queen who exist very much on the fringes of the genre but whom, in my opinion, and after all it is my blog, warrant inclusion.

Like most men of a certain age, my first conscious memory of Queen was their mammoth stint at number one in the singles chart in Christmas 1975 with Bohemian Rhapsody. After buying the single and the album it came from, I started to investigate the rest of their catalogue. I can't say for certain, but I think Queen II was my first port of call.

This was probably due being drawn to the album and the cover's reproduction in the video for the aforementioned single. I'm sure that this would have confused me at the time; in fact I'm sure that there were many newly interested Queen fans in 1975/76 who would have purchased Queen II in error, thinking it was their latest release.

Looking at the cover now, the prog overtones are obvious. The black outside of the gate fold with the iconic group photograph was contrasted by a remarkably camp glossy white picture with the group resplendent in fur and jewels. The monochrome theme was continued with 'side black' and 'side white'. It may be urban legend or just the fading memory of a middle-aged closet glam rock fan, but I'm sure there was a limited edition press with a white vinyl on one side and black on the other. It would be nice if it were true.

It wouldn't be accurate to call Queen II a concept album, but it has that kind of feel. Procession has a very prog like introduction; grand and opulent, accurately portraying the feel of a medieval procession with Brian May's glorious idiosyncratic resonating pulsating guitar over a simple bass drum. If it wasn't for the early Queen trademark proclamation of "no synthesisers" adorning the sleeve, you'd swear that a keyboard opened Father to Son. Hearing the vast harmonies once more as I type this, I can't help but smile at the effectiveness of the combined three voices which is still so effective even after several hundred plays. The second half of the track leans very heavily on May and (as he still was then) Meddows-Taylor, heavily aping Page and Bonham. I particularly love the sustained distorted note Brian plays at three minutes and twenty four seconds and the clever transition from bombast to balladeering as the song comes to a close. Very accomplished for a second album.

The segue from this to White Queen is also typically prog; all moody sound effects and combined acoustic and electric guitar. Again Brian's solo at two minutes and forty seven seconds which starts acoustically before heading in the direction of Wishbone Ash is sublime.

Although not blessed with the finest set of vocal chords, Brian's performance on Some Day One Day is one of his better moments. The drifting, phasing of the guitar is beautifully restrained and gets better and better with age.

At the risk of waxing emphatically throughout the entire review, I again adore The Loser In The End. This is a classic Roger Taylor narrative with excellent underrated vocal and, as always, drawing the very best out of Brian May. I always think Roger wrote in the same vein as Ian Hunter: with tremendous humor and a strong visual style. All in all, a pretty faultless 'side white'.

If the first side was a relatively light and acoustic offering, then the second was a much more agressive affair. 'Side Black' commences with the thunderous Ogre Battle. Led Zeppelin are 'borrowed' from extensively once more with a very tight performance from all four players, moving through a variety of time signatures with ease and aplomb. The rapid pace continued with the larynx threatening gymnastics from Freddie who undertakes vocal challenges which would squeeze even Percy's lemon. This is, chronologically speaking, the first Queen track that wholly reveals the definitive sound which would dominate their peak output: excellent harmonies, the big guitar sound, strident piano etc, etc.

For many bands, a one minute eighteen track would be mere filler. How Nevermore can be such a huge, magnificent and yet delicate work of art in such a brief time span is a mystery to me. It has all the faculties of an epic side long suite but achieves it in less than ninety seconds.

The March Of The Black Queen once more highlights Freddie's unique vocal style, with shades of opera, wide screen cinema, psychedelic guitar and camp multi-tracked harmonies, swapping between Freddie and Roger. Astonishing.

Funny How Love Is works as a strong illustration of the boundaries Queen were pushing in terms of studio production. I'm no expert but I'd be surprised if this didn't feature a record number of vocal tracks all the time of its release.

I hadn't heard the original version of Seven Seas Of Rhye on their first album, so I couldn't share in the surprise and delight of hearing a new version. I was simply as over-awed by how it could be both intensely complex and delightfully hummable at the same time.

Queen went on to make bigger and better albums, but in terms of witnessing a band hitting it's stride and obviously enjoying itself in the studio, I don't think they ever improved.

Review of Mahavishnu Orchestra's Birds Of Fire

Released 1973



I hadn't heard of Mahavishnu Orchestra until my third day at University. Not just their music, but even that they existed in the first place. This surprised me, as despite my tender years, I considered myself extremely well read when it came to my prog rock history. I may not, at that time, have heard Gentle Giant or Tonto's Expanding Headband for instance, but I was conversant with who they were and their key works, ready for my eager attention in the coming months and years. But, at the age of nineteen and one day, Mahavishnu Orchestra had passed me by completely.

On this third day at University in Glasgow, I was still wandering around aimlessly, exploring both the city itself and the nooks and crannies of the halls of residence, including the library, where I found myself early in the evening. Amongst the predictable hushed calmness I encountered the odd sight of a comatose male figure, upside down on one of the chairs with a bad perm brushing the floor, clutching an acoustic guitar, and surrounded by a sizeable collection of high strength lager cans. Righting himself to something approximating vertical, he introduced himself via an impenetrable accent as coming from the extreme western arm of Scotland. Through a barrage of almost tourette level obscenities, he enquired about my musical preferences. It was during the remainder of that evening that I was introduced to the wonders of John McLaughlin et al, along with Robin Trower and, ahem, Journey.

I'll admit at this point, that as far as Mahavishnu Orchestra (by the way, it has always frustrated me as to why the definite article was deemed unnecessary as an appendage) goes, this has, to this day, been the only album of their that I've ever heard. Strange really, as for a while a few years later, I got very heavily into Santana, including his 'Devadip' phase where he recorded a couple of albums with John McLaughlin, which I enjoyed at the time. I also love Bitches Brew which I consider to be the most underrated prog album of all time. Anyway, for whatever reason, I never got further than Birds of Fire.

The title track provided probably my second or third experience of prog violin (as opposed to fiddle) after Curved Air and Gong, and certainly the most extreme style of playing to date. In fact, there are a large number of extremes on this track. From the frenzied drumming and impossibly fast guitar soloing, it really is a baptism of fire into this region of prog.

Of course, many would argue that this has no right wearing any form of prog label. After all, the musicians all contributed most of their careers to pure jazz or jazz fusion. I would argue, with absolutely no pejorative intention, that this album has been hijacked from the fringes of fusion by the prog contingent, seeing as many typically prog-like motifs as jazz influences.

Either way, moments such as the guitar solo on Miles Beyond will leave any music fan with their mouths open. Whether playing of this virtuosity is jazz, fusion, prog or indeed stands alone is really irrelevant, in terms of 'progressing' the musical form, this is a fascinating album.

Coming to it as young as I did, I can't pretend that the first few listens were easy. Now, being a seasoned prog fan, I can see correspondences between this album and many, many straight bands. Celestial Terrestial Commuters for example, reminds me of the Canterbury set; especially Hatfield And The North and Caravan, while Thousand Island Park has as much in common with Gentle Giant as it does with the way Tony Banks 'staged' a mid-period Genesis track. Well, I know what I mean.

The core of the album is arguably One Word. For someone would thought Bill Bruford or John Bonham were the greatest drummers ever, I learnt to broaden my horizons when listening to the pace and precision of Billy Cobham. There is an incredible sense of menace in this track, which is as much about the atmosphere created by the playing as it is about the actual playing. There is a clinical nature to the playing which achieves the incredible feat of appearing both outrageously accomplished and sophisticated as it does effortless at the same time. I'm sure the quality of the playing must have evoked great fear in their contemporaries.

Sanctuary again has huge menace, but a remarkable beauty. I love the bass on this track. Utterly beautiful and very reminiscent of the atmosphere's created by Robert Wyatt.

Although I have owned this for many years and give it an airing on a frequent basis, I still feel under qualified to give this album the review it deserves. Listening to the middle section of Open Country Joy, I am spellbound by almost everything about it: from the country fiddle to the 'pretty' keyboards and the blistering guitar solo, it is stunning achievement. I probably need another twenty years with it fully appreciate it's depth.

Review of Emerson, Lake & Palmer's Brain Salad Surgery

Released 1973

"Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends
We're so glad you could attend. Come inside! Come inside!
There behind a glass is a real blade of grass, be careful as you pass.
Move along! Move along!"

From the time I first began to develop my own independent interest in music, Emerson, Lake & Palmer belonged to that select number of bands who had a benign omnipresence but whom remianed utterly beyond my ken. Groups like ELP, Yes and Led Zeppelin were the sort of bands that the boys two or three years above me at school would be into. They were all over the serious music press, but because they didn't have a presence in the singles chart, they retained a mystical intangibility as monstrous behemoths, bestriding continents occupying stadiums and enormodomes, inciting a religious fervour to those in the know. I'm sure most men of a similar age to myself will recall seeing ELP play Fanfare For The Common Man in something to do with the Olympics in 1976. They appeared big in every sense of the word.

Of course, as I read more and more about prog and the classic early seventies period which I came to love, it was immediately apparent that ELP were held almost solely responsible for the death (or at least extended cull) of the great age of prog. These three men have, to this day, borne the huge weight of responsibility for applying Herculean levels of excess and thereby incurring the wrath of punks eager young pretenders, in turn inciting musical revolution and the subsequent fizzling out of their own career.

Having picked up on Keith Emerson through the blistering debut by The Nice, I had high hopes for my first airing of an ELP album. I had also enjoyed Greg Lake's vocals on the first King Crimson album. I was intrigued to hear how these well respected earlier efforts were transformed into a prog monster, reviled by so many.

I have a confession to make in that although I am counting Brain Salad Surgery as my first encounter with a full ELP album, I'm fairly certain that I had come across one of The Works albums some time earlier. Try as I may though, I have no recollection whatsoever of this true first experience.

I'm sure a significant percentage of impulse purchases of Brain Salad Surgery have been based on the quality of the HR Giger sleeve work as on anticipation or knowledge of the music itself. Although I believe the term 'Brain Salad Surgery' is a euphemism for a sexual act, the gothic coldness of the blue grey sleeve accurately reflects the tone of the whole piece.

The grandeur of their sound was somewhat surprising. Jerusalem was staged as if addressed to an audience seated in a cathedral as opposed to a stadium. This was a style of keyboard playing which I was largely unfamiliar with. Given that he was all but a household name, it struck me as odd that Keith Emerson's mode of playing was not commonly copied by subsequent generations of keyboard players. I suddenly felt a bit like a prog virgin all over again, which wasn't unpleasant; I was glad to have my eyes opened.

I was aware of Toccata as an early eighties track by the oddly popular Sky. This was very different interpretation. Way more aggressive with a stunning chugging bass line and the first full airing of the vast cavernous drum sound of Carl Palmer. It was only half way through this track that I realised the obvious: there was no guitar; just bass, drums and keyboards. Or was there? I checked the sleeve and saw that Greg Lake was credited with six and twelve string guitar as well as the bass. Well, so far, I was struggling to pick this up. There appeared to be a large gap where a guitar should be. As such, there was a clear distinction between ELP's sound by comparison to The Nice.

I found the production on Brain Salad Surgery quite grating at first, especially with regard to the vocals. Having heard Greg Lake in several other guises since, I didn't think this did him any favours. I'm sure others would disagree, believing that it suited the epic nature of the music.

But then I got to Still...You Turn Me On and the production instantly worked. And there was the guitar. I guessed that back up musicians must have been used when performing this live. Obviously a big departure from their signature sound, Still... was a pleasant surprise: a simple and effective, uncharacteristically restrained track which could be sung along to.

I still struggle to say anything positive about Benny The Bouncer. I cannot see it as anything other than filler; a humourless waste of two and a bit minutes. A shame really. Especially when considered alongside the huge twenty nine minute plus epic Karn Evil 9. To be honest, it took a few spins for me to appreciate this track. I now consider it to be the pinnacle of their career and one of the most successful 'suites' in prog. Yes it's indulgent and overblown, excessive and self conscious, but it pushes the prog envelope to the same degree as Close To The Edge (the track) or A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers. And, like the very best prog, even after several hundred plays, I am still hearing new sounds and themes from all three musicians.

It is not difficult to see why ELP inspired the reaction they did, however it is reassuring to be part of a club that smugly smirks in a self knowing way, delighted to by perverse enough to enjoy ELP and Brain Salad Surgery in particular.

Review of The Moody Blues' Days Of Future Passed

Released 1967

"Cold hearted orb that rules the night, Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white, But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion? Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let inspired figures of light pass by, The mighty light of ten thousand suns, Challenges infinity and is soon gone. Night time, to some a brief interlude,
To others the fear of solitude. Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs."

The Moody Blues have a very odd position in the pantheon of prog history. Despite seven very strong albums in the late sixties and early seventies, and the undoubted claim of Days Of Future Passed as the first true prog album, they are rarely lauded today in the way I feel their pedigree should warrant. While many of their contemporaries still gain countless column inches forty years on, it is rare to read a retrospective of their early career in the same way you might encounter Yes, King Crimson or many others who emerged around the same time. Perhaps this is because, for a while anyway, The Moodies crossed over and enjoyed success in the mainstream, all but abandoning their progressive roots altogether. However, they were not alone in that regard, and I for one will continue to champion their myriad virtues in this humble blog.

In previous reviews of albums by The Moody Blues, I have described how I was effectively made caretaker for a friend's record collection for an extended period, and that this weighty LP box contained a full set of the classic Moodies first seven albums. I should explain. for any pedants reading this, that I am discounting the very first Moodies album as an unspectacular (but nonetheless, very successful) unremarkable 'beat combo' offering in the same manner as Genesis fans (which incidentally includes me) discount From Genesis To Revelation, seeing Trespass as the first real Genesis album.

The cover was reminiscent of a film soundtrack, and, from my youthful perspective, bore no prog credentials whatsoever. The fact that it was their first album proper with their new line up, so soon after the pedestrian Go Now, didn't particularly excite me either. Of course, like the rest of the Western world I was familiar with Nights In White Satin, although at the time, only knowing it as a single, I probably saw it as fairly MOR; undoubtedly a good pop song but nothing special.

Thus it became one of many albums which I didn't fully comprehend or appreciate until it occupied one side of a C90 cassette, and I was playing it on a Sony Walkman on one of the interminably long coach trips I had to take between Redruth and Glasgow.

It was definitely one of those "this-is supposed-to-be-a-classic-although-I doubt-it" begrudging listens. With fourteen hours ahead of me, I had a lot of cassettes to divert me and I knew that I better get it over and done with.

Were I to review that first full run through giving my nineteen year old response, this would be short and grumpy review. It is only fair to superimpose my more mature, gently greying view, all these years on.

The album begins very softly with an almost imperceptible reverberating percussion which builds to a climax introducing a full orchestra. As a nineteen year old, I would have groaned and thought, 'yup; piss poor soundtrack nonsense'. Now I am old enough and wise enough to realise what incredible new ground The Moodies were making with Days Of Future Passed. Decca had seen sufficient potential in them to bestow free reigh of all the latest technologies, along with a full orchestra and a seemingly bottomless budget. This was 1967; pop/rock bands playing with orchestras on a concept album was new, completely untried. Pop bands did play along with orchestras for TV specials for the masses, but this was something different.

The delivery of the opening spoken verse (see top of this review) indicates just how different this was. With the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to reference future Moodies releases which would also use a spoken opening, as well as future borrowings of this device by other prog bands (both Tommy and Quadophrenia both use the overture device as witnessed here, for example), but at the time, you would have to ask; just who was their audience? This wouldn't have appealed to a pop audience, surely? Nor the classical audience either, as it was a bit too far out there for the 'straights'.

Dawn Is A Feeling has a curious blend of classic sixties pop sensibilities in the chorus, blended with a more sophisticated drama in the verses. Where, on a traditional prog album , you might expect to hear a mellotron or keyboard solo, to hear the mellotron accompanied with a full orchestra is a strange thing first time around, a huge sound, and one which must have caused much scratching of heads by the 'straights' and much excited stroking of chins by aspiring progsters.

The Morning again has much of the standard pop whimsy which would have been commonplace amongst specifically their pop contemporaries, but the chorus introduces swathes of mellotron and vocal harmonies. The orchestral accompaniment can jar occasionally and date the music very firmly as a sixties oddity.

Lunch Break is probably the greatest casualty of this on the album: the first half sounds like the soundtrack for a terrible Peter Sellers film from that period. However, the second half of the track introduces Jefferson Airplane type keyboard effects and frankly wonderful harmonies. At three minutes fifty, the band collectively take off on a remarkable guitar and bass frenzy; very Byrds-like. Suddenly it is not difficult to imagine this being played at the Roundhouse in London admist swirling light displays just after The Pink Floyd have finished their set without it sounding anything other than perfectly suited to its surroundings.

The prog credentials are heightened further with The Afternoon. The mellotron here is as effective as anything on In The Court Of The Crimson King. There is an effortlessness by which the band switches between prog passages, orchestral arrangements and a pop based chorus which is quite unique. I defy anyone currently lumping The Moodies into the average prog bracket to retain that view after listening to The Afternoon.

Without getting caught up in the actual comparative chronology of Days Of Future Passed and Sgt Pepper, or indeed any other 1967 album claiming to be the first to be labelled as prog, I strongly believe that the former has to be the stronger contender, based if nothing else on the large number of prog motifs which became the norm on later albums by most of the the classic prog bands in the seventies.

The Evening ( like the rest of the album) does a very credible job of creating an atmosphere relative to the title of the song and the concept of the album as a whole. Its probably true to say that the Eastern inflections used here are not as successful as those Mr Harrison used on Sgt Pepper. This is remedied, at least in part, by the space-rock chorusing in the middle section of the song and the sublime set up at the end of the track for what is arguably the highpoint of the album.

Although I had heard Nights In White Satin a hundred times before, hearing it for the first time in the context of the album is, dare I say it, akin to a religious experience. I cannot hear it now as the climax to the album without a tear in my eye. On one level it is a classic pop song whilst on another it is a brilliant fusion of all what was emerging as prog at the time: mellotrons, classical leanings, a flute solo, a timeless concept and an excellent vocal performance.

I urge you to to put any prejudices to one side, put the album on, select track one, put on some headphones, turn the volume up as high as you can bear, close your eyes, lie back and be amazed.

The spoken finale is suitably cinematic, emotionally intense and absolutely worthy of its classic groundbreaking status. Possibly the misunderstood album in prog.