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 Nice's The Thoughts of Emerlist Davjack

Released 1967

"I'm going back, going back to be young again, to find the time to develop my mind and be kind".

This was very much an impulse purchase. I say that not by way of apology, or to intimate that I'm embarrassed to own an album adorned by four young men wearing nothing but cellophane. No, indeed I only mention it as this impulse was further evidence to show that often, the best record buying decisions are those made on on the spur of the moment.

The market which visited our local town on a Tuesday and Saturday over the course of perhaps two years fuelled my record collection with some of the very best (and very cheapest) albums I have ever purchased. If I knew then what I know now, I'm sure I would have swept up many many other similar gems, if only I'd recognised them at the time.

The Nice were completely unknown to me. I was attracted by two things: a) that this clearly originated from the period of music in which I was interested and b) the thickness of the record sleeve. Some original editions of late sixties and early seventies albums were presented in incredibly thick, almost industrial strength cardboard. Forty years on, most people, I think, consider these to be aesthetically unappealing and cumbersome. For me they have a glorious charm and are infinitely more appealing than a CD jewell case.

Turning the record over I noted the band members names, and consequently the logic behind the albums title. I was familiar with the name Keith Emerson and I thought I knew one of the other names: was it from Roxy Music?

Seeing that this was from as early as 1967, I paused, suddenly unsure that this would appeal to me. As this was the first time I had encountered the band, and although I knew Keith Emerson's name and was aware of ELP's stature in the prog rock genre, at that point I had only heard Fanfare For A Common Man and was sure that this wasn't entirely representative of their 'oeuvre'. Could it be that this was a more pop orientated group which Mr Emerson had been glad to leave behind?

Then again, this was another £2.50 proposition. If I hated it, I could always pass it on to one of my younger brothers.

I groaned as soon as I heard the opening of the first track. This was very firmly rooted in the sixties, both in terms of production and it's nonsensical "pa,pa,pa,pa, pa, pa..." refrain. But then the pace and the time signature changed and (as I later learned) the very distinctive keyboard sound takes the lead and dominates everything from there on in. I could identify this as a prog record within the first minute of the first song, simply due to the keyboards. There were classical leanings and manic, furiously fast runs interspersed with more delicate but still decidedly odd signatures.

The other three band members struggled to keep up. The guitarist was equally manic and, in my opinion, very underrated, but was constantly in the shadow of the flamboyant keyboards. For the first time with any album I had owned up until that point, I found myself preferring the instrumental tracks: the vocals jarred badly with me, suiting neither the instrumental ambitions nor the genre itself.

Whilst I was mildly intrigued with the album as a whole, considering it not to be the embarrassing intrusion in my collection which I had expected, I was overawed when I heard Rondo. There were very strong similarities with the Jon Lord and Ritchie Blackmore dual at the climax of Deep Purple's Child In Time, except the pace of this was yet more frenetic and unhinged.

In 1967, from what I knew about The Nice's contemporaries, this must have received an explosive reaction, such was their energy and willingness to explore uncharted territory. This must surely have been one of the very first prog offerings. But what was the first? I had to go back to my books and find out.