The maestro returns with an album performed with his English Rock Ensemble, but which is relatively easy listening at its core, as opposed to anything approaching symphonic prog. It is, though, a thoroughly enjoyable album.
If the productivity rates in the economy of Great Britain matched the output of Rick Wakeman, we would be the richest country in the world. Aside from his stints in The Strawbs and Yes, he has since 1973 released so many solo albums that most commentators have lost count.
There is, of course, a whole lot of dross amongst this output (much, in fact, like our economy!), as Wakeman himself is honest enough to admit, putting the situation down to the fact he has had a, ahem, colourful marital history. However, when he is good, he is the finest keyboardist in rock. His bestselling albums at the start of his career are so well known as to not require any comment whatsoever in this review, although I would briefly mention that in 2023, I think that Criminal Record is my favourite from that period. In the new century, Out There, Red Planet, and Piano Portraits stand out for me, although I acknowledge (without caring a great deal because I simply love great and well played music) that most hardcore prog fans would laugh themselves silly at my admiration for the latter album.
The thing is when reviewing music, I love the new. I love to hear artists at least try to bring something different to the table instead of playing it safe to the hardcore fanbase. Thus, I have no difficulty in waxing lyrical about, say, Marillion because they have progressed, and not being quite so polite about, say, Jethro Tull, who have regressed.
So, what to make of Wakeman & The English Rock Ensemble (his band who, as far as I am aware, make their credited studio debut here) 2023 release A Gallery of the Imagination? Well, the first thing to state is that I like the concept, which is intelligent and something I love doing, namely putting a picture to the music, using your imagination as the music washes over you. Indeed, this is one of the main reasons why my reviews tend to concentrate as much, if not more, on words as opposed to the change in time signature on the second bar of the third movement – I like to think about what songs mean, even if, as quite often, my thoughts miss the mark somewhat.
Hidden Depths starts off with a delicate and beautifully played piano piece. A minute in, there is a light guitar riff for a while before Wakeman takes the lead on keys. Some of this is rather like being transported back 50 years, but overall, it is a bright and breezy start.
The Man in the Moon introduces us on this album to vocalist, Hayley Sanderson, best known in the UK for her performances on TV smash hit show, Strictly Come Dancing, but to Wakeman fans as the vocalist who has sung on the re-recording of Journey.. and King Arthur (neither of which I have because I would find it hard to see an improvement on the classic originals). She has a very nice voice, and creates a class lead to a thoughtful piece of music. On this, as throughout, the musicians Dave Colquhoun on guitars, Lee Pomeroy on bass (who was extremely impressive on the ARW tour), and Ash Soan on drums provide for a tight band. There is a mid-section trademark Wakeman noodle, which I can personally take or leave, but this is a pleasant track and perfect for relaxation.
A Mirage in the Clouds is the first track where I did sit up and think that this could be a better than average album. Light keyboards and a gentle bass riff underpin a rather lovely vocal, enhanced by layers overdubbed in parts on top. Symphonic prog? Nope. Relatively easy listening? Yep, and if that is what floats your boat, there is nothing wrong with it. It is a good listen, and the acoustic guitar work as the piece progresses is particularly impressive. I imagine myself lying down in a field on a hot summer’s day looking up and seeing patterns in the cloud when listening to this.
The Creek follows. Wakeman is perhaps the finest classical pianist in the world. I say this with all seriousness – I mentioned before Criminal Record, and Birdman of Alcatraz from that remains my favourite instrumental of all time, a real Desert Island Discs number. I have had the great pleasure of hearing just him and a piano in concert, and this piece is gorgeous. Those who believe that he should only ever doddle up and down on his Moog will hate it. I love it. The playing is sublime.
My Moonlight Dream is the longest track on the album at just short of seven minutes long. Sanderson’s voice is sublime, and the lyrics cleverly evoke that childhood dream most of us have of flying away, perhaps piloting your bed in the sky as I did. Two minutes in, there is a clever change of tempo which gives way to a signature Wakeman solo which itself segues into a very clever Colquhoun solo. I find the introspective keyboards more interesting than the “classic” sound, but this is a very strong listen especially as the choral effects bring a more expansive feel to proceedings, matched by Sanderson raising her volume.
Only When I Cry is a mournful ballad. Wakeman again brings his light piano to bear, and just over two minutes in, there is a fantastic passage where Sanderson brings a cry to rise above her understated sad vocals beneath. This is a very good piece of music.
Cuban Carnival is, I am afraid to say, enough to make you want to cry. Not quite as execrable as Teakbois, that shocking mistake from the otherwise peerless ABWH album, it is, though, instantly forgettable. I take it that the track was inspired by the wonderful Cuban gig Wakeman did and captured on DVD in 2005, but this really is a track which takes the shine off everything else here. The trademark keyboard sound grates on this.
Just A Memory rescues matters. The second piano solo piece, it is gorgeously reflective, and you picture Wakeman leading with his right hand and punching the rhythm with the left. I take this to be a song about lost love, or perhaps mourning the loss of a loved one. Either way, it is simply beautiful. A video is embedded below – enjoy a maestro at work.
The Dinner Party amuses, certainly if you have ever been a victim of that ghastly middle and aspirational class ordeal. It is a fun track with Wakeman clearly poking fun with keys and piano at the proponents of the event.
A Day Spent on the Pier follows. This is my favourite piece on the album. It evokes memories of Southend Beach, where I spent many happy days in childhood. The ensemble portray this mood perfectly, Sanderson singing of having fun, rain or shine, a paeon to simple and happy pleasures. You know, good music does not always have to make you think of complex drum patterns, time signatures, Kings, Queens, and etc. I am a progressive rock fan, but sometimes it is really nice to simply sit back and enjoy something as an innocent pleasure – this track is one such listen. You picture yourself at the heart of it, and I take a huge amount of pleasure from that.
The Visitation is a strange beast. Sanderson brings out her inner Kate Bush – her vocals are so unlike anything else on the album, you have to check that there is not a guest vocalist appearing. Musically, it is the closest the album comes to pure progressive music and when the keyboards soar, with the organ parping as well, the band rise to the occasion dutifully. I really like the extended quiet passage at the close which talks to me of the wonder of face-to-face contact with the visitor.
The album closes with The Eyes of a Child. As one gets older, it gets more difficult to remember one’s childhood, and we rely on children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces & etc. I like the idea, though, of seeing the world through children’s eyes again. There is an innocence untouched by the horrors of this world, or at least there should be, and our leaders would do well to remember how this felt before inflicting some of these horrors on us. This is not, though, a seriously political polemic, but rather a playful piece extolling the virtues of innocence, and Wakeman’s playful piano especially does this well.
A Gallery of the Imagination is not going to win any of those interminable end of year awards produced by magazines and websites. Indeed, from comments I have seen, it has already been consigned to the dustbin of history by “pure prog” fans. There are times, though, when it is simply enough to relax and enjoy music without necessarily having to think too much about it. Indeed, a similar emotion I have when I go (rarely) to art exhibitions – I like art. I like looking at pictures and admire how clever the artist is to bring a landscape to life. It relaxes me, without wishing to overly dissect it. This Wakeman & Ensemble album is of that class. It is well made. It is good easy listening music. It will not set the world alight, but that is not its purpose in life.