The Flower Kings released their first album (as TFK) in 1995. They are one of the biggest acts of modern progressive rock, and are responsible for some of the genre’s finest moments. Once upon a time, their calling card, their raison d’etre, was to delight us old fashioned types by including in mammoth releases epic 20+ minute pieces of music, and, by and large, these were consistently magnificent. Stardust We Are remains one of my favourite tracks, still regularly played here in Lazland. Well, no longer. Waiting For Miracles had one 10 minutes plus track, but aside from that, it has been wholly the shorter form. I might add that the past couple of albums are very rarely played by me in full. Instead, the better tracks form part of playlists, and By Royal Decree is, I believe, destined for the same fate.

For there is here far too much that is either poor or unforgettable. What we used to call filler. The shame is that there is more than enough excellent material to form one pretty good CD. To give three examples of the dross, Peacock On Parade is simply an extended jam which probably sounded a good idea in the studio having fun noodling away, but does not translate well on record. The opening track, The Great Pretender, meanders horribly until we arrive at a strong denouement. The Letter is a mess, and an incomprehensible one at that. When you listen to The Big Funk, you would be justified in wondering quite how Messrs Sue, Grabbit, and Runne had not sent a letter on behalf of their esteemed client, one Michael Oldfield Esq. for royalties, because the opening section is a blatant copy of Tubular Bells. Blatant. The remainder is wholly unremarkable before the closing section treats us to what can only be described as suspiciously akin to much of Jon Anderson’s solo material.

However, there is much that is good. The band are too good to release a whole hour and a half of dross. A Million Stars is a joyous traditional TFK track. The Soldier features some expansive keyboards, a rich guitar solo, and pretty stunning backing vocals by Jannica Lund. In stark contrast, but no less impressive, is the sad and sorrowful piece, The Darkness. Bluesy at the beginning, it then morphs into something pretty similar to the best folk music you listened to in the 70’s.

Revolution has a powerful start before introducing a wonderfully fragile vocal. The underlying bass riff is powerful and this is a thoughtful and moving track. Evolution has more of that pressing and pulsating basslines underneath sunny keys at the intro. This is a cracking instrumental with real structure, unlike the meandering I described above, with a fine guitar solo in the second half leading to a closing section with gentle, soaring choral effects and orchestration - symphonic classical prog at its best.

Silent Ways has a harpsichord intro which is impressive alongside some gentle electric guitar chords. the main section has some more of that fragile beauty in the vocals.

Moth reminds one very (very) strongly of Procol Harum’s Salty Dog vis a vis the piano chords. However, once you (again) wonder if this is simply influence, or naked plagiarism, the track develops into a very classically influenced and classy track. The final minute features more beautiful choral voices. Finally, Shrine, a short gentle piano piece, leads us into the final track, Funeral Pyres. This is a 7+ minute track which is easily the closest we get here to a traditional TFK epic on the album. it contains all of the quirky mix of jazz, symphonic, and at times barking mad elements which made us fall in love with the band in the first place.

So, to answer the question at the top of this review, yes there is far too much here. It is hard work sitting through the entire hour and a half, and one 50 minute disc with the tracks I describe above would have made for a wonderful album. In fact, that is precisely what is on my music library now in the playlists section.