Some bands are both lucky and talented enough to release a signature album, a piece of work that not only accords them maestro status, but also sets the benchmark in their field.
I am sure many people in World of Prog would accord 2112, A Farewell To Kings, or Hemispheres with that description, but not to these ears. To me, Moving Pictures is the archetypal Rush album, the body of work which stands apart from all else, and set the benchmark for what we now call Heavy Prog.
There is not one weak moment on this. Tom Sawyer was a great opening track, successful single (a form of art they were becoming very accomplished at writing and performing) and set the scene for all that followed. All tracks, barring The Camera Eye, are of a similar length, but what a great deal they pack into those tracks.
Red Barchetta tells a moving story about an old uncle's Capri, and this is where I think Peart had, by now, moved on leaps and bounds as a lyricist. He could tell exceptional and moving stories that were rooted in real life, rather than the fantasy world.
And it rocks, by which I mean really rocks. YYZ could possibly be the finest instrumental rock track of all time. The riffs, drum work, lead are all phenomenal, and the moment when it all leads up to THAT synth break is one of those hair standing up at the back of the neck moments.
The album contains also the most astute observation of being a rock or other celebrity superstar ever committed to record in Limelight. It also helps that it is a fine piece of commercial heavy rock, still played endlessly, deservedly, by radio stations the world over. I doubt that Geddy Lee ever sounded so good or committed, and the band simply synch together in such a way that you really did wonder at the time whether it could ever get any better than this. Four and a half minutes of pure commercial heavy prog delight.
Camera Eye is about the only nod to the epic past, certainly in terms of length, that the band both indulged themselves and us as fans in. They would never issue a track this length again in the studio. It does, however, provide a very strong hint as to the immediate direction the band would take with the heavy emphasis on synths in the opening, delicate, and patient passage. As the track develops, it really is classic Rush in the method of fine, heavy riffs, but also sounding a hell of a lot tighter than they ever did before. It is a very dark track, both lyrically and in the feel of the music itself, with its commentary on societal inequalities. If anything, however, Geddy's vocal performance is even more stunning than on Limelight. It's really a pity that eleven-minute singles weren't allowed, because this track really cries out to be heard by a wider audience than traditional Rush fans.
Darker still, however, is Witch Hunt, part three of the Fear sequence, and is just short of five minutes’ worth of very clever observations about our dark and fearful religious past, full of lilting synths and an incredible drumming performance by Peart.
The album closes with Vital Signs, another synth and simple riff heavy track. It is probably the closest this fine album comes to filler, but great filler it is.
The closest analogy I can give for this album is AC/DC's Back In Black. When they release a new album, hordes of magazine reviewers give praise and inform the waiting public that this is "the best they have done since...." Well, Moving Pictures is this band's Back In Black, and, to be honest, such comparisons are unfair and unhelpful. This is an album which towers above many other works, including by this great band, and whilst they would go on to release some further magnificent music, this is the album which truly defines both them and the music they produce.
A true masterpiece.
This is the second full length collaboration on album between Anderson and Vangelis, the latter being the man the former still describes as his musical inspiration. When this was released, we still had Yes withdrawal symptoms, or rather we missed Anderson's incredible voice. The predecessor album featured one of my favourite tracks of all time, I Hear You Now, and I remember being eager for more of the same.
This being the 1980's, though, anyone expecting a re-run of Close To The Edge, or even the type of music Vangelis had produced with classics such as Heaven & Hell were to be rather disappointed. This is not in any shape or form symphonic prog. In fact, it is barely progressive at all. What it is, though, is a hugely enjoyable collection of well written pieces of music, featuring one of the most wonderful voices in rock together with a true virtuoso.
The album spawned two major hit singles, the first of which, I'll Find My Way Home, led to a rather embarrassing Top Of The Pops appearance by the duo hopelessly miming to the backing track. The second, State of Independence, is vintage Anderson exploring his unique world view and featuring the legendary Dick Morrissey on sax. Groovy and impossibly catchy, I would bet more than a few pounds that this great track introduced many a person to the wonders of Yes, having thought that they would like to explore this nice man's vocals a little bit further. It is also far better than the covers it produced, most notably by the Queen of disco, Donna Summer.
Elsewhere, the mood quietens down somewhat, and the album is driven by a collection of thoughtful, almost laid back, tracks. Beside is typical in this, with a nice vocal set against quiet piano and synths. The end vocal, though, is where Anderson excels, his voice soaring above the piece and thrilling us with that emotion he does so well.
The Mayflower is the biggest disappointment for me here. Although one could applaud the obvious experimentation Vangelis was trying to bring to the track, it meanders far too much, especially vocally, and ends up as a bit of a dirge really. It is a shame, because I think the duo were trying to recreate the theme and soul of Anderson's masterpiece, Olias Of Sunhillow. It just didn't quite get there.
The highlight of the album is the title track itself, and easily the closest they came to their mutual prog roots. It is, of course, a homage to the old style, black & white, Hollywood legends and films that Anderson adored, and the homage is lovingly rendered. Full of amusing and interesting film clips or copies, Vangelis also makes a far better fist of things as compared to the previous track, simply because it is tuneful and soulful. Then, when he slows proceedings down in order to presage Anderson's wonderful and quite beautiful denouement, it is, in my opinion, his finest moment on record. A great track, and easily up there, as far as I am concerned, with Anderson's best moments in Yes. For a track in excess of twelve minutes long, it also received (and continues to this day) a fair bit of radio airplay.
Back To School is a bit of fun, and so simple that you really cannot believe that it was co- written by the man responsible for music like Heart of the Sunrise. As I say, fun, but throwaway stuff.
The album closes with Outside of This (Inside of That), another gentle ballad, but one that will have fans, such as myself, of just sitting down and enjoying a gorgeous voice singing a love song very happy. Again, his voice soars magically in places, and Vangelis proves himself to be the perfect accompaniment.
This album could never be described as a masterpiece. As with the other albums the duo released, it could be hit and miss, which is a shame, because when they "hit", they were magical.
If you cannot stand commercially driven music, then stay a mile away. If you think that Anderson can only be accompanied by complex music and complex musicians such as Howe, Squire, and the rest, then also stay away. If, however, you simply enjoy listening to a gorgeous voice in tandem with a real keyboard talent, and don't mind it simple, then this is recommended.
A very good album which I enjoy revisiting every now and again.
Continuing my reappraisal of a band whom I had not listened to for many years, I am extremely glad that I have. Long Distance Voyager is an album released in 1981, the first to be released without Mike Pinder, but recorded with the keyboard genius Patrick Moraz, who, regrettably after a massive falling out, was only classed as an "additional keyboardist" on later prints of the album.
Moraz was much more than that. His virtuosity and dynamic approach to music certainly lifted this great old band and most definitely contributed to one of their finest releases. Yep, I did say that, because, as I've stated many times, there was an awful amount of good prog and rock music about in the 1980's, and this is up there as one of the decade's finest, if, again, you can get past the fact that this band were never a "pure" progressive rock band, but, rather, the archetypal (with Supertramp) prog band with very strong pop tendencies.
There is barely a weak moment here. The two most recognisable tracks, The Voice and Gemini Dream, are both joyful and thoroughly deserved to be hit records. They are intelligent pop/rock records with clear prog leanings, and certainly compared to much of the popular dross abound at the time they are pretty much priceless. They were also, if memory serves me right, the first two tracks played when I saw them live for the first time on the following tour.
There are also some extremely strong symphonic tendencies abound, and none more so than on the quite simply excellent Talking Out Of Turn, a track which features some marvellous Lodge vocals (before he lost his voice altogether), swirling Moraz keys, and a quite lovely contribution from The New World Philharmonic Orchestra.
Justin Hayward, though, provides this album's clear highlight. Indeed, In My World is one of the finest tracks the band ever recorded. Mellow, full of emotion, and crackling with repressed energy, this track is an utter joy and well worth the entrance price alone.
22,000 Days is an enjoyable romp, featuring a strong riff backed by some jazzy and exemplary Moraz keys. This is one of those tracks on which Moraz clearly made a massive difference creatively.
Ray Thomas barely features on the album until the seventh track, Nervous, but, boy, what an entrance. A classic Moodies sounding track, full of lush symphonies and clever vocal harmonies. It was worth the wait, and it is he who dominates the closing passages of the album in what are, in my opinion, his most consistently good and pleasing contributions to the band in his career. A lot of it is self-deprecating, and he was, by this time, very much a Veteran Cosmic Rocker, but all of it is hugely enjoyable stuff.
This is an excellent addition to the band's canon, and very much enjoyable music 30 years on. Highly recommended as a decent starting point for those who wish to explore the band's music. Go on, enjoy. Ignore those purists!
Clearly, looking at previous reviews, this is the one LP where prog fans shout “SELL OUT” and desert the band in the same fashion most people would treat a leper colony. But is it really that bad? No, although I have no hesitation in downgrading my opinion because of two tracks and two utter mistakes. No Reply At All is the first one - Phil should have left the horns on his solo efforts, and the other two should have stayed off the booze when he persuaded them to have them on - it's not that it's a bad song in itself, it just sounds so out of place on an English symphonic prog band’s album as to be beyond quirky - and, of course, it was never meant to be quirky. The other is, of course, the utter mess that is Whodunnit, a track so God awfully bad that it would shame a Take That album, let alone Genesis - what they were thinking of is beyond me, and it's a mess.
The rest of this LP is actually very good. Title track, Abacab, is a continuation of the great pop/prog mixture that they had perfected. Rutherford's grinding guitars match Banks' dark keyboards perfectly, and Collins continues to demonstrate what a great drummer he is. The full-length version is deservedly still a live favourite, and the instrumental section fairly rocks along.
Me and Sarah Jane is one of my favourite Genesis songs of all time. The subject matter, of the aftermath of a rape, is sensitively and delicately told, whilst the playing is superb - of course, this is a Banks song, and he takes the keyboard feel from Duke to this very well.
Keep it Dark is ordinary, but Dodo/Lurker is sheer symphonic prog genius. This is the key to these later albums - although there is a lot of commercial stuff, there are also a lot of excellent elements and progressive stuff that shines out. Banks creates a massive wall of sound, and the other two play along as if their lives depended upon it, especially Collins who proves how versatile a drum machine can be.
Man on the Corner, Like it or Not, and Another Record continue the vein seen in Duke - they are not progressive songs as such, but they are commercial songs with a very progressive flavour, and are all very enjoyable. The thing, of course, that separates them from the average Collins solo record (and, yes, aside from Face Value, they were all exceptionally average) is Banks & Rutherford, who retain that idealistic sense of musicianship and writing to turn an ordinary proposition into something quite a lot more.
Not the finest Genesis LP by any stretch of the mark, but still enough to keep fans and newcomers to their music interested enough to stay on the journey.
With Nude, Camel moved into the 1980's with a wonderfully sophisticated set, containing beautiful sounding songs, taking full advantage, as with their better selling peers, of improved production techniques that had become available to the serious song writers and performers. I am one of those long-term prog fans who rather welcomed this. I always liked my music to sound, well, sumptuous and full, and this album certainly delivers on that score.
The album is a concept one, not based upon life models, as the title suggests, but, rather, the fascinating phenomena of Japanese soldiers who either did not know, or refused to believe, that the war had come to an end, and carried on fighting in the most inhospitable places, sometimes for many years.
That this album was finished was, in itself, a story of dedication and fight, given drummer Andy Ward's chronic battle with depression and attempted suicide. It was to be his final album with the band.
Keyboard duties are taken by Latimer (assisted by Duncan Mackay), and a very fine job he does as well. His voice is as wonderful, deep, and feeling as ever, and there is a very real texture to the whole work.
This is an album I always enjoy revisiting. Indeed, Camel are a band who continue to provide listening pleasure, in whatever era or phase.
For those of you unfamiliar with the band's catalogue, or who are relatively new, owing to youth, to the delights of the classic English symphonic progressive rock bands, you could do a whole lot worse than an introduction to this fine band than this fine album.
It has it all. The trademark Camel instrumental passages, which never fail to keep your attention, and, mark my words, Latimer is one of the finest exponents of the electric guitar we have produced, dreamy tracks with rich vocal textures, overall symphonic layers, combined with a wonderful use of our favourite prog woodwind instruments, namely flute, and the marvellous Mel Collins, he of Crimson fame, on saxophone.
Come on in. The music is fine. This is an album which really should get far more attention than it does.
The 1980's had arrived, Woolly had left, kaftan in tow, obviously rather peeved at the direction being taken by the band, and, indeed, with the two replacements on keyboards there is an indisputable eighties feel to proceedings, not that I think there is anything inherently wrong with that, and it certainly did absolutely no harm to record sales in continental Europe, Germany especially on the back of the Berlin concerts, whilst being virtually completely ignored back in dear old Blighty.
Of this series of albums, I prefer the successor, Ring of Changes, but there is still enough to keep fans of the band interested here, although this album marked, for me, the beginning of the end between the two main writers, Lees and Holroyd, who, a la Davies and Hodgson, were now writing completely separately, giving rise to the feel of two acts making one album. Who you prefer is obviously a matter of individual taste. Both can stray into blandness too often for comfort, Back to the Wall being perhaps the stick out example for Holroyd, whilst Death of a City is a rather feeble attempt at a Lees rocking track.
Holroyd does, though, fully redeem himself with the gorgeous ballad Echoes and Shadows, which has a full, rich vocal, amply supported by lush keys. It is, perhaps, this type of track which many find objectionable, but I find just a lovely listening experience. In addition, Life is for Living was a big hit single in Europe and is a very decent BJH pop track.
As regards Lees, his best is saved until the last two, with the quirky Doctor, Doctor, which has some very intricate grooves and ideas at its heart, and In Memory of the Martyrs, dedicated to those who perished attempting to cross from East to West Berlin. Rich, with lush guitars and symphonic backing keys, full of feeling and sympathy for its subject, and lavishly produced, this is my favourite track of the album, and certainly the closest it came to rather more "traditional" prog. As a fan of the band, this track made it worth the price of the album on its own.
It is difficult to rate an album such as this. I like BJH, and I have never objected to commercial prog rock, and, in fairness, this lot were always master exponents of the "lighter" end of the prog spectrum. There are some very good highlights, but, unfortunately, too much of it is rather forgettable. Pleasant, but unremarkable, and, therefore, in terms of this band's long history, it is not amongst their best, and I would suggest that only completists who must own all their work would be recommended to shell out their hard-earned cash to own it.