I have many albums submitted to me, both as an individual reviewer and a radio station presenter/librarian.
Often, I have remarked that in the third decade of the 21st century, we are living through a golden age of musical creativity. The percentage of dross amongst the myriad of music I hear is, perhaps surprisingly (I don’t know), pretty low.
Every now and again, though, an album stands out. An album that stands comparison and deserves to be mentioned in the same sentence as those timeless classics from the 1970’s, you know, your CTTE, SEBTP, H to He, and the rest. And such a statement is deliciously appropriate in a work which deals with a young man growing up in that world.
The album is entitled Was, and Andy Tillison has composed one of the finest and intelligent albums it has been my pleasure to hear, something which will be played here until my last days, something which has achieved a very difficult conundrum, namely, how to excite and impress a discerning musical audience fourteen albums into what was already a substantive body of work.
This is not something a reviewer can discuss line by line, note by note, chord by chord. To do this album justice, all a reviewer can do is to provide his readers with a sense of the feel, a description of what he thinks the composer was trying to achieve, but, most importantly, urge his readers to take time out. Take the time to mindfully switch all distractions off, to immerse yourself in a work which demands respect, which has at its heart intelligent and passionate recollection and stylistically includes just about every genre of music you care to consider.
Prog rock, of course, includes within its boundaries a ridiculously wide-ranging spectrum of styles. Prog Archives includes The Tangent as “eclectic prog”, and with this band, and certainly this album, the descriptor is bang on the money. Symphonic, orchestral, electronic, fusion, ambient, drum & bass. Wow!
So, to a pen picture of the music presented to you here.
In 1973, I was living in Essex with my parents and younger sister, and celebrated my ninth birthday in December, so I have decent memories, but obviously childhood ones and not of music, aside from the usual mass-market stuff such as Osmonds, David Cassidy, and the like, so I missed out on the classic prog era. Tillison is slightly older, so has that first hand memory.
The title track is so beautifully knowing in its lyrics. Mike Yarwood on the tv, the nicotine (my parents were heavy smokers, and, indeed, it was ultimately responsible for my mother’s passing), and the hi-fi on with the soundtrack to your life. We hear here exciting times, the composer getting close to the cultural freedom offered by impending adulthood.
“And then I asked my Dad...
"Hey, what's Vietnam?"
I just love that line, coming immediately after referencing Tolkien, By-Tor and the Snow Dog, and Andy had rock n’ roll in Leeds on the transistor, and they did in ‘Nam, but with different viewpoints, the napalm shells, the shocking waste of life, ultimately fruitless.
An important observation - the three news reports which are included somewhat depressingly tell us that nothing really changes. Plus ça change.
I find the closing lyrics fascinating, making an oblique reference to Floyd’s Comfortably Numb, with Unconditionally Numb hoovering up kid’s money, and strangely silent about Biafra. An interesting comment on the attractions and, ultimately, dehumanising impact of stardom?
So, after the thematics, the music. Firstly, this really is one hell of a lineup. I think John Jowitt is a very strong replacement for Jonas Reingold, who I regard as one of the premier bassists of all time. John was very strong live at Fusion, so it sounds to me as if he has fitted in nicely to The Tangent life. Steve Roberts and he have made a nice start as the rhythm section.
Rob Groucott played with Jowitt in Rain, and provides lush textures.
Luke Machin released a class solo album, Soulshine, recently, and I was full of praise for a work Tillison & I agree was a truly progressive album. He is all over this new Tangent work.
I don’t believe I have the words to add to the mounds of praise Theo Travis has attracted over the years. Probably in common with most, I first came across him via Fripp and Crimson, but he is such a virtuoso, and The Tangent are particularly blessed to have his services, I think.
The interplay between orchestration and Theo’s flute, clarinet at the start of Was is a symphonic delight, massive anticipation to what will come.
What I find with this is that very clever use of the long form of music not simply to make extended music for the sake of it, but to allow the themes to breath, time to develop, the build up to the initial dandelion clock narration lasting three minutes, and then the gorgeous orchestration continuing behind that before we get the whole band coming in not with a bang, but with lush pastoral soundscapes. The bass melody is stunning there.
It is five and a half minutes before we hear Tillison sing of trailblazers, setting a magnificent scene for a discerning listener, the symphonic performance lasting nigh on eight minutes, a third of the song, before we get the most delicious jazz form backing the words. Listening to the smoky guitar solo and then words, none of this strikes me as being anything other than that soundtrack to a life, not in any way maudlin or depressing, but fond memories.
Then, the burst of energy, blistering guitar solo when the Vietnam passage starts, but I do hear in that Hammond and the riffs a solid nod to Deep Purple.
The buildup to the final “back to the living room” lyrical passage is stunning, with Luke unleashing his inner emotional guitar lead.
My conclusion - I think it is the finest track ever committed to record by The Tangent. For those familiar with quality music, that will be confirmed as the highest of praise.
Follow the River is next and is a tale of country walks in God’s Own County, a funk-riven delight, a complete change in direction from the title track – in fact, it does remind me a bit of some of the tracks on the Machin album mentioned earlier, including a great solo in that vein.
For Was Not, our closing epic on CD1, again, I really relate to these themes, especially the remark about Dad’s Army and how Farage yearns to take us back to those days, making to my mind the eternal and fundamental mistake of the opportunist populist by pretending that all was cosy, warm, and nice in the past, whereas we know it was nothing like a classic sitcom, but dark, depressing, and desperate times. You feel the anger when Tillison sings about him wanting those “White Cliffs of Dover”. Music, lyrics, as commentary, defining in its impact, reaffirming my own core beliefs when sometimes they waver.
The end references his father in the care home choosing his memories, clearly a deeply personal memory, and Tillison, somewhat rebelliously, states, “I choose rock and roll!”
It is the most delicious pastoral jazz-infused track, very wistful in its instrumentation, so not longing for those times, but still retaining an affection for what was.
The Prog Rock Bit in 7 – well, those keyboards, intricate drum patterns, bright soloing from Luke. Prog does not have to be miserable and too cerebral, does it?
So, to CD2, The Suite, a meal in six courses, or to translate properly, La Suite Ce qu'était (The Sequel: What It Was).
L'Aperitif (The Aperitif) is a gorgeous overture with piano and flute.
Steak de chevreuil et Le Fermier (venison steak and the farmer). The farmer chasing the poor animal for tonight’s meal. I love the racing organ, but then the whole tone slows down, and I think it has been caught, and it is a sad thing, but we are paying homage before eating.
Danse (dance). Memories of a joyful date. It is playful with a muted trumpet and piano literally dancing. Then, it slows down, lush – the smooch? It progresses to a delicious groove, with Machin letting rip, and there is a pile of improvisation in this, the close very lively.
La Route côtière (The Coastal Road) is a long piece, just short of the epic-length. The guitar which opens this is grandiose – I can see myself atop a hill looking down on the sea. I love Travis’s work on the sax, flute - the keyboards are warm, and it strikes me as simply being a recollection of a very happy time or space, especially when the halfway point has a jazz-out before we get the most gorgeous melody on the flute, then fusion delight, Jowett doing his thing underneath Machin.
Multi partisanisme (multi-party system) is an epic-length track, more than 15 minutes long. I Was! There are some quite beautiful passages within this.
Laisses moi chanter (Let Me Sing). Andy’s vocals interplay with some gorgeous sax. This is a lovely, relaxing piece of music, singing about time together and making the most of it. Amen to that, for sure.
The album is released via White Knight Records on 1st October. You can, and most certainly should, pre-order the CD at https://whiteknightrecords.bandcamp.com/album/was
The band website is at https://www.thetangent.org/
True progressive music by true progressive musicians.
Sheer genius.