This is a masterpiece. I remember with great affection buying the vinyl LP with the fantastic gatefold sleeve and pouring over every detail - just the personnel names in print were enough to send one into rhapsody. And then to the music itself.
Musical Box remains for me the finest Genesis song of any era, and whilst Phillips was undoubtedly missed, any doubts about Hackett were blown away by his performance on this and subsequent tracks. Gabriel's masterly evocation of a love unfulfilled, why don't you touch me plaintively bemoaned, still has the power to move and shock.
I really like Phil's vocals on For Absent Friends, a lovely portrayal of times gone by. Hogweed is simply great fun, something that could only come out of England, I think. Wonderfully quirky and, certainly at the end, menacing.
I still get blown away when I hear Gabriel singing the despair that tires the world passage on Seven Stones, featuring some excellent mellotron work by Banks, the finest performer of most people’s favourite instrument!
Harold the Barrel is again a wonderfully quirky and amusing song which tells a story in unique fashion.
Harlequin is another beautiful ballad - by God, Gabriel has a lovely voice and is used to full effect here, backed by some lovely acoustic guitar work.
The album closes very strongly with Fountain of Salmacis, featuring the strongest burst of guitar work I think ever recorded in the middle of a song. Hackett's solo is simply stunning, and is, again, backed up by excellent keyboard work by Banks. Greek myths are timeless, which is why, I think, this track still entertains and informs.
All in all, an absolute classic, and an essential purchase for any progressive rock collection.
This is a very important album in the history of this great band. It marks the transition between what had, up until then, been a mainly underground space rock/psychedelic outfit, much beloved by characters such as John Peel, and the mainstream, stadia filling, selling albums by the truckload, band they would become with Dark Side of the Moon.
It is recognisably a band effort, with all four members contributing in spades, and also found them confident enough to perform and produce a masterpiece like Echoes on their own, without the assistance of a third party such as Ron Geesin on Atom Heart Mother. That album, to me, was the sound of a band desperately searching for a fresh identity in the wake of Barrett's departure. On Meddle, at last, they found it.
Many rate it as a masterpiece, but to me it falls short of that. Sure, if we were to rate an album on the likes of One Of These Days, a bombastic, heavy, and extremely violent track, and the sublime Echoes, then, yes, it would deserve such a rating.
However, listening now to the album, I still, as I did all of those years ago on first listen, get the impression that the pleasant, laid back, A Pillow Of Winds (Gilmour led, but co-written with Waters), the dreamy love song that is Fearless, featuring the anthemic Kop crowd at Liverpool FC, the strange San Tropez, a Waters solo piece that sounds as if it is a throwaway from the Ummagumma studio sessions, and the frankly "barking" Seamus, featuring a singing canine, are all numbers put to vinyl in order to make up two sides of a record. Because, of course, back in those days, you couldn't release an album with one side only, as you can on CD now.
They are not bad. Far from it, in fact. They are all very good, and interesting curiosities, but masterpieces? Come on. Not even the band would dare to describe them as such.
It all leads up, of course, to Echoes, which is simply one of the most incredible pieces of music ever recorded. Where Atom Heart Mother was patchy, bitty, and full of so many holes it was almost a cheeseboard on vinyl, this was coherent, full of emotion, and sounded somewhat effortless in its performance.
Right from the very start, where Gilmour's lazy intro blends in perfectly with Wright's incredible staccato keyboards, it takes you to a faraway place. Gilmour, in my opinion, never sounded any better vocally, and his guitar work is simply stunning, leading the band. You also, of course, realise just how good a rhythm section Waters and Mason were. The drums pound away, and the bass guitar keeps the tempo fairly flying along. Lyrically, it was the last time you could take away from Waters' words what you, as an individual, wanted to take away, or you interpret it as you liked. Future releases, of course, had the meaning rather rammed down your throat (and I say that as a huge fan). As an amusing piece of trivia, Waters, years later, accused Andrew Lloyd Webber of plagiarising large parts of the track, hence the somewhat less than complimentary reference to him on Amused To Death.
In the hands of any other band, the mid-section, especially Gilmour's incredible reverse wah-wah, would simply have melted away into boring obscurity. With this lot, however, it all builds up to a menacing, and thrilling, climax. Collaboratively, the band scaled the heights with this one, and never sounded better than they did on Echoes. It also, in my opinion, set the true standard for all progressive epics more than twenty minutes length.
An album which is, on its leading two tracks, as close to perfection as it is possible to get. Shame about the rest of it, really.
The album that propelled Yes from being a band people liked to one that people loved, in their millions. This shows the line-up maturing into something special.
Roundabout is a constant staple of the Yes repertoire, and deservedly so. What makes it stand out for me is the way Chris Squire plays his bass guitar. As I said on my review of the previous LP, he is the only bass player who makes it sound like a lead guitar, and that is very much in evidence on this. Howe's acoustic playing is lovely, and you instantly know that a keyboard maestro has arrived in the form of Rick Wakeman, recruited from folky outfit The Strawbs, when you listen to the swirling sound he creates. However, I do not particularly rate Cans & Brahms, one of the five solo pieces by the band on the LP, as being much more than a throwaway track - it's certainly far too short to show off Wakeman's talents.
However, that does not apply to We Have Heaven, Anderson's contribution. I love Jon's voice, and I always think of him as being someone whose voice flies, no soars, and this is particularly true on this track. Lovely.
South Side of the Sky is a rockier piece, with menacing keyboards and another thunderous bass line.
The next one, Five percent for nothing, was so named by Anderson of Bruford's contribution, and never was a name more apt, although it really upset the drummer at the time (and still does). Completely pointless, it does no justice to a fine drummer, although one who was always jazzier than many of his contemporaries.
Long Distance Runaround is a good short piece, whose main purpose, to me, was always to lead into the finest solo track on the album, The Fish. If there is a finer example of bass playing, I would love to hear it - superb.
Mood for a Day is Howe's contribution and has rightly become a classic. I far prefer this to The Clap as it is a more thoughtful piece of music.
The album closes with Heart of the Sunrise, one of my favourite tracks of all time. The opening Howe burst is followed by a quiet, almost dreamy vocal by Anderson accompanied by a strong bass line by Squire, the track bursts into life with almost manic playing by all concerned, then quietens again, and so on. Anderson hits the highest of high notes when he exalts Dream on, on to the Heart of the Sunrise followed by Howe's ascending burst and very menacing chords from all others. This is a very complex piece of music, which must have taken ages to perfect, but it ranks amongst their finest.
This should, really, be a perfect prog LP, but it is spoiled somewhat by traces of the self-indulgence that would, in time, turn the band from world beating heroes to be cast, very unfairly in my opinion, as musical villains responsible almost solely for the onset of punk.
Highly recommended to those few of you that don't own it.
This is the first essential Yes album purchase, and the moment when they began the transformation from being interesting to legends.
Of course, this transformation was wholly owing to the recruitment of Steve Howe on guitars, a maestro who brought a fresh and cutting-edge sound to the band lacking both previously with Peter Banks. Although many people regard the commencement of the band to becoming prog legends as being Fragile with Wakeman's recruitment, I have to say that Tony Kaye is very good on this album.
Yours is no Disgrace starts the album off very strongly, and already you hear the interplay between Howe's chords and Squire's thundering basslines - Squire, of course, is such a virtuoso that he might be playing lead guitar sometimes! I also love the Kaye organ part on this. I regard this as being the band's first true prog song.
The Clap is the Howe acoustic classic, the one we have heard so many times now live that some might be wishing for a bit of a change. It's good, of course, but I regard it as being a bit of a filler on the studio LP.
Starship Trooper is, of course, an all-time classic, right from the first intro bars to the pounding finale. I never tire of hearing this, and I especially adore Jon Anderson as a vocalist. The notes the man hits are incredible. This song, of course, marked the beginning of the cosmic tag that carried the band, but would also drag them down somewhat with Tales from Topographic Oceans.
Your Move/I've Seen All Good People is a track I personally can take or leave. I find it rather repetitive, although on this original version less so than later live versions. Again, Howe shines with his intricate guitar lines taking the band to previously unthought of heights. I would have preferred them leaving it at the end of Your Move
A Venture is pleasant, but a filler I think was a hangover from the previous line-up, although I might be wrong in this.
The album closes with Perpetual Change, which is utterly fantastic. Kaye's opening keyboard blast is superb, strong, and sets the tone for the rest of the song. All band members play tightly, and Anderson rocks on this one. A fine end to a fine album.
Although I have the first two albums, I regard this as being the first proper Yes album, and it is highly recommended (if, of course, there is anyone reading this who hasn't got it already!).
One of the finest rock LPs ever released.
Baba O'Riley still rocks live even now, and always produces a wry smile of amusement over wasted outdoor gigs and the futility of teenage years by one now in his mid-forties. Townsend always was a genius at encapsulating the mood of a generation.
Bargain is a great rock track and Daltrey really does flow on this and all tracks on the album - a great vocalist whose voice and commitment to the band he loves comes across strongly.
I think The Song is Over is fantastic, and the most recognisable leftover from the Lifehouse project Townsend abandoned for years owing to nobody being able to understand it! The plaintive vocal at the end produces hairs standing up on the back of the neck.
Behind Blue Eyes is a singularly incredible piece of work, plainly autobiographical containing some stunning musicianship and vocals from a band at the top of their game. And that leads into......Won't Get Fooled Again, which with its decrying of the betrayals of left & right-wing governments over the years still resonates as strongly in 2009 as it did in 1971. I defy anyone with even half a political brain not to be singing strongly with agreement at Meet the New Boss..Same as the Old Boss at the end. Thunderous bass combine with angry guitars, Moon hammering away on drums, and Daltrey singing as if his life depended on it to produce a seminal rock classic.
The keyboard effects used by Townsend were vastly influential for many prog rock bands, and the lyrics inspired a generation, including myself, who entered active politics or trade union activities to right many wrongs.
One of the seminal works of the 1970's.
Released in 1967, this album is considered by more than a few to be both the archetypal forerunner of all things prog, and the finest thing that The Beatles ever released. I think that both statements are partially true. It certainly introduced the concept album to the mass market, although that is not the same as prog, and it does contain some of the finest material ever put out by this legendary band, although my personal favourite remains The White Album.
What is true is that the band were pushing the limits of popular music as no other act had dared try, and it is this which makes this album a true progressive great - pushing boundaries and daring to do something new, and, for that, bands such as King Crimson, Yes, et al would be forever grateful.
So, some 44 years later, does it still have the punch it did back then? Well, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, whatever it is about, still has the capacity to bring the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. The production and Lennon's ethereal voice stands up as fresh now as the first time I heard it. The title track is great fun, When I'm Sixty-Four is as relevant in its observational prose as it ever was, and the album closes with perhaps the finest opening lyrics in rock history; mournful, regretful, and as strange in its experimentation today as it was then. I don't think that Lennon ever sounded better.
George Martin's production and arrangements would not shame any LP released in 2011, but, overall, I think that the remainder of the album is a collection of Beatles tracks ranging from the mundane to the very good. As a concept, it is disparate, to be frank, but we cannot, and should not deny its importance in rock music's history. And, of course, we should not forget Ringo's finest moment in With A Little Help From My Friends - it's a pity it came as a singer, not a drummer!
Excellent, and very worthwhile in revisiting every now and again. You can also have a damn good dance to some of it, no bad thing!
Isn't it nice to revisit old favourites, especially where the story began? Ignoring To Revelation (easy to do), this is the first proper Genesis LP, and it is a blinder, remarkably fresh after 39 years.
I love Steve Hackett as a musician, but I also love Anthony Phillips' work, and he plays marvellously on this. If he had not had stage fright, imagine what Genesis would have sounded like?
However, the key to this, and all subsequent early LPs, is Gabriel's voice. Looking for Someone starts off with that trademark plaintive voice, seeking answers, absolutely a remarkable vocal performance from someone barely out of school.
White Mountain is, to me, an album filler, but Visions of Angels is the track that persuaded Charisma’s Tony Stratton-Smith to sign the band, and it is easy to see why. The band, with Gabriel's haunting lyrics, and Banks' majestic keyboards, tell a story that yearns for something a little bit more than can be found on this mortal coil.
Many commentators remark that the oldest song Genesis perform these days is I Know What I Like, but this is not true - the exceptional keyboard and vocal passage in Stagnation actually plays a part in the modern-day medley, and it still sounds fantastic. Banks, Phillips, and Gabriel combine to terrific effect on a simple passage.
The Knife still resonates in the present day - an angry song about a demagog, it was years ahead of its time, inspiring countless others, especially Fish when writing Market Square Heroes in the eighties. I still remember with fondness Collins being shouted at in the eighties tours to play this song, and always refusing. Phillips' guitar work is incredible, and the volume and call to arms by Gabriel still raises hackles even now.
Some of you are going to die, martyrs of course, to the freedom I shall provide....This could easily be written in the tragic times we live in now, especially Palestine and Iraq.
Banks in the prog special on BBC 4 last night stated that it was the band's strength as songwriters that carried them through punk. He was right, and this LP was the start. The best, of course, was still to come!