“Phil Collins ruined prog” is the mantra which still dominates many progressive rock internet forums. Cobblers, as this second anthology proves.
The second of three official boxsets issued by the band, this one covers the Phil Collins era from Trick Of A Tail onwards, and, as such, invites tons of hostility and inevitable comments as to the fact that "they're not prog any more".
Well, nonsense. This boxset is too large for a detailed review of every track, but there are some progressive rock gems hidden in here, and, yes, some damn good commercial rock as well.
As with the first boxset, it is the live releases which attract the most interest, and, in the main, the most enjoyment. With the exceptions of No Reply At All, one of their most forgettable compositions, and Illegal Alien, their worst composition ever, there is not a bum track included. When, for instance, you listen to this version of Dreaming While You Sleep, you come to the realisation that here, in the 1990's, was still a huge symphonic prog force. It's Gonna Get Better sounds fantastic live, and the classics just roll off the tongue. Tracks such as Ripples, The Brazilian, The Lady Lies, and the symphonic tour de force that was Duke's Travels all make you sit up and notice as to how wide ranging and important this band were.
The 12-inch versions of the more pop directed tracks all add quite a lot to what were, to these ears, enjoyable tracks anyway. Dare I say it, they add a progressive element to all?
Lastly, there are also some previously discarded or obscure gems included on this, as with Archives One, except I think these are far better, although, of course, this is also due to the infinitely superior production utilised as compared to the schoolboy era. Particular highlights are Its Yourself, Vancouver, and Evidence Of Autumn.
This is not a boxset that should be purchased solely by completionists. It is something I think all Genesis fans will take huge pleasure in listening to, although the price of it might put a number off.
RADIOHEAD - KID A
Looking back on this album and my review, I still regard this as being one of the finest experimental albums ever released. Incredibly, some of it was surpassed in the live arena. A work of genius, pure and simple.
In common with many other old style prog fans, I dare say, I lapped up the incredible passion and sheer progressive rock beauty of OK Computer, this on the back of The Bends, itself a loud shout to the world announcing the arrival of an intelligent rock band for the post- rock generation. I thought that Pink Floyd themselves had been reincarnated, and that the future of expansive, conceptual, spacey, progressive rock was utterly assured.
So, with the arrival of the new millennium, this came as a bit of a shock, to say the least. The dancy, trippy, Yorke wailing experimentation of the opening track, Everything In Its Right Place, the title track itself, sounding for all the world like Marvin The Paranoid Android on mogadon, came as a huge, well, it was difficult to describe.
Of course, all of this was done perfectly deliberately. I don't subscribe to the view that the band were frightened of being labelled the new prog alumni. I think it was all a little bit more subtle than that. Yorke, especially, wanted a change, and wanted the band to break the limits, and he found an especially willing accomplice in Jonny Greenwood.
This is an album which splits opinion more than most. Ranging from genius to diabolical, I find it somewhere nearer the former. As with its predecessor, there are moments of utter, lovely, beauty on this album. The musicianship is awesome, and Colin Greenwood, especially, absolutely shines on bass, heavy and pounding virtually throughout, and on no track more than the entrancing Morning Bell, which has a bass led melody at the heart of more experimental goings-on elsewhere.
Of course, though, the focus was on those strange vocals, and the almost complete absence of the younger Greenwood guitar that had so impressed us on the previous two works. I found Yorke's vocals, for perhaps the final time, to be fascinating here, before the new style started to grate on later works. I began, eventually, to really appreciate the almost psychotic experimentation and effects on tracks such as The National Anthem, which does, of course, bare more than a passing resemblance to early Floyd works such as Atom Heart Mother.
Because, at its heart, this is a band right at the top of its game pushing themselves, and refusing to be pigeonholed or stereotyped. Given that this could almost be a definition of classic prog artists such as Hamill/VDGG (and there is more than a little bit of that going on here), Crimson, and Floyd themselves, this is deservedly, I believe, a classic modern progressive rock album.
Of the more experimental tracks, my favourite is Idioteque, at first glance an electronic dance beat led track for the masses, but, again, repeated listens reveal it to be far more interesting and subtle than just that. The beat is hypnotic, and I swear that this is by far the finest vocal performance by Yorke ever. Yep, that's right, even more so than any of the more prog songs on other albums, because the sheer emotion of these vocals, and the exceptionally dark and cold portrayal of a relationship breakdown are utterly incredible. Not all dance influenced electronica is bad. On its own, I regard this track as a masterpiece.
It does settle down in places to something approaching recognisable. The incredibly mournful, and sadly stunning, How To Disappear Completely, is perhaps the best example. That it sounds most like tracks from the predecessor album is, I would venture to suggest, a good illustration of this reviewer's personal tastes, but those guitar bursts, combined with a delicate rhythm section, symphonic strings, and depressed vocals and wails are a joy to listen to. It is one of the finest tracks they have ever recorded and is starkly magical. Optimistic is one of those relatively straightforward guitars led tracks that all would later hail as a "return to classic Radiohead" in later years, but, even here, the sonic effects, at times, take over and take the track to something altogether different.
This will not be an album to everyone's tastes, that is for sure. I do, however, regard it as the last great Radiohead album. It took an age for me to really appreciate it, but once I did, the time taken was worth it. In my opinion, it is the last album by the band to feature a collection of great songs, rather than just one or two gems amongst a pile of caterwauling dross.
Excellent, and highly recommended. Don't be afraid of the experimentation. It works here, and if you are a sucker for the harp, then Motion Picture Soundtrack makes it worth the purchase alone!
There is a new album coming out in October 2022, when this historical review was uploaded to the website. In the meantime, how about revisiting this turn of the century opus?
Arena entered the new decade, and millennium, with a new vocalist, Rob Sowden, and an altogether heavier sound, but still with their trademark prog roots.
As with all Arena albums, the sound is altogether grand, and it must be said that Sowden's vocals very much suit the heavier direction displayed.
John Mitchell is as good as ever, whilst the bass playing, right from the off, by Ian Salmon is pulsating. Together, they provide an exceptional foil and support to the band's founders and guiding lights Clive Nolan and Mick Pointer.
The opener, Chosen, is quite simply a superb piece of prog metal. Relentless in its pace and driven along by a strong rhythm section and Nolan's keys, it starts the album off in grand style.
Waiting For The Flood is more recognisably Arena, with Sowden's vocals extremely reminiscent of Peter Hamill. It features some fantastic acoustic guitar work backing by Mitchell, and I would here also give a big mention to the exceptional production that is evident on this, and, indeed, the whole album. It's all as clear as a bell and a joy to listen to. A very good, powerful, acoustic track.
The Butterfly Man opens with some delicate keyboard work backing more Hamill-esque vocals by Sowden. He really is a dead ringer! This is a far more sinister and sombre affair that the two tracks which preceded it, and it is very well performed by all concerned, and you notice just how good the musicians are at both creating and producing alternate moods, especially Mitchell in his guitar work. Very dark, and in places, very heavy, this nine-minute epic never lets up and always holds the listener's interest.
Ghost In The Firewall has a very alien, almost industrial, feel and sound to it, and this is driven almost exclusively by Clive Nolan's work. It is a huge, grand, and loud piece of symphonic rock, and is executed very well. The chorus is, amongst the machinery, almost an anthemic sing-along.
Climbing the Net is a brighter affair and is a massive nod to Genesis post Gabriel era around the time of Wind & Wuthering, although it should be pointed out that Sowden is no Collins (some might think that a good thing!), but Nolan's keys are clearly inspired by the Banks work of that period and Mitchell's short, but sweet, bursts by Hackett. Four and a half minutes of guilty pleasure, which, whilst not essential, is not exactly filler either.
The epic on the album is Moviedrome, clocking in at just short of twenty minutes. The metal start to the track is a bit misleading because this is a track of many moods and styles. It features some stunning guitar work by Mitchell. The main driver here, though, as on the bulk of the album, is Nolan, and some of his work is very intricate, but never less than grandiose. Fans of melodic bass playing will enjoy Salmon's contribution immensely, particularly in the mid period quieter section, and this then gives way to the most incredible guitar solo by Mitchell, most clearly inspired by some of Gilmour's later work, and a bombastic keyboard led symphonic pastiche. It ends as it began, with a very heavy section, and it is a very enjoyable track.
The album closes with Friday's Dream, a very soft, uplifting, and pleasant acoustic number, which is the perfect comedown after what preceded it.
Arena are a very important band, and they entered the new millennium with another very strong album, despite yet more line up upheavals.
A new millennium brought a strong return from one of prog's finest and most popular acts. This is quite possibly Martin Orford's finest hour as a recording artist, which gives some idea as to his performance.
The Wrong Side Of Weird is a very strong opener. It is powerful and evocative throughout, and Peter Nicholls voice is fantastic & delicate. It is, however, Martin Orford who has his imprint all over the track.
Erosion follows, and this is the shortest track on the LP at 5.44 minutes. This is a very delicately played ballad, with bombastic bursts which bring the track to life. A massive drum sound pounds out of speakers on the closing section, and Orford brings a majestic backdrop to it all. The band, and Orford, rarely sounded better.
The title track is the longest on the album at over 14 minutes. A lush opening, with soulful and melancholic vocals backed by lush acoustic guitar and piano, creates a lovely soundscape. After three minutes, the meat of the track kicks in, and the result is very tight and wholly symphonic. All members deliver excellent musicianship, including a fantastic trademark Holmes solo. Jowitt never sounded better on bass, which is pounding and melodic all through the track. Indeed, there is a very strong rhythm section all round. The track holds the attention to the end and is clearly strongly influenced by large sections of The Lamb but remains wholly original in its delivery. There are some amazing vocal harmonies as the track begins its huge denouement, with Orford's keyboards again creating a massive wall of sound. The production is top notch.
Zero Hour brings a new element, with some interesting sound effects. Orford uses synths to again provide a grand backdrop. A lovely ballad, and a good contrast to what preceded the track, whilst the closing section shows off Holmes at his most inventive.
The opening to Shooting Angel, with delicate keys and guitar, is so relaxing, but is rather lulling you into a false sense of security, as the main section features a crashing rhythm, rather reminiscent of Genesis in their Mama period. Pleasant enough, but probably the weakest track on the album and a little bit too disjointed to be wholly effective. There is a nice saxophone, though, and Nicholl's vocals are lovely.
The whole album, though, leads literally up to the closer, Guiding Light, one of the band's finest moments. If there is anything better sounding than Nicholls and Orford accompanying each other with soulful vocals and piano, I would like to hear what it is. The band do not enter until after three minutes of this beauty, but, when they do, the track rocks along, and we once again hear IQ at their most coherent best. In the best tradition of symphonic classic rock, the lengthy instrumental passage is played with utter tightness, rocks along, and never once divert the attention from anything other than the music. It closes as it began, and you are left gasping for breath as to the sheer majesty and beauty of this track.
This album began a sequence of remarkable albums from the band for the new decade and proves that the best of the 1980's new era bands could survive and prosper.
The review below was written a number of years ago, and I revisited this album earlier to see if these scathing comments were a wee bit misplaced. I don’t think so. I believe this is the worst Crimson album ever released, and I was certainly right about it signifying the end of that particular lineup. I like rackets. I just don’t like this one.
By far the worst King Crimson album ever made, a huge disappointment from a band I have enjoyed for years.
This is simply a cacophony and listening to Prozac Blues earlier made me want to reach for said pill to cheer myself up.
The only track I can say I enjoy is the Coda with Belew bemoaning the state of the modern political world.
You get the feeling listening to this that KC have descended into the art of making a noise simply for the sake of making a noise. There is no rhyme or reason to it, it just is, and I feel that this line-up has now reached the end of its natural life.
A racket from start to finish, and a god awful one at that. Enough Larks Tongues in Aspic's already!!
The debut album from prog supergroup, and still their finest (sorry).
I suppose that a majority of the so-called "trendy" and "modern" music critics in 2000 would have argued that the last thing that poor old planet earth needed was a progressive rock supergroup, indulging their passion for the genre and whipping poor listeners back to its heyday of the early to mid-1970's.
Of course, the last group of people who we prog fans take a blind bit of notice of is the modern music critic. However, the background to the setting up of this project was, of course, the most favourable conditions commercially for the genre in quite a few years. Dream Theater had exploded onto the metal scene, and cleverly introduced a young audience to the joys of intelligent prog rock. Spock's Beard were no commercial slouches themselves, The Flower Kings were already beloved by those of us who loved grandiose, jazzy, symphonic prog, and, finally, Marillion were still a very powerful force within the rock music scene, with a very strong and loyal following. So, when this lot did get together, it was never really going to be a disaster commercially. The point, to me, was, would it be a disaster musically?
No is the strong and pointed answer. I am not usually a great fan of retro music, because I feel, in many instances, that it lacks a certain kind of originality, warmth, and you can, of course, always listen to the real thing. This, though, is different. This album deliberately set out to pay homage to the myriad influences that the cohorts loved, and to provide its buyers with an unashamed classical prog rock album, but did it in such a way that, the cover aside, all of it was utterly original, and brilliantly so.
The main opus is the opener, which would have taken up a whole side on the vinyl of yesteryear (and then some). As a statement of intent, All Of The Above really does take some beating. At half an hour long, it never once loses the listener's attention, either through the grandiose and pomp driven core, or, also, the delicious October Winds quieter passage. The extended closing guitar led passage is simply superb. However, at the very core of this track is about the finest example of bass playing I have had the pleasure to hear in my entire life. Trewavas is at the forefront of all of this track, and I remember seeing an interview with Mike Portnoy saying as much and expressing his and colleagues utter amazement that someone could play bass so well. Not, though, that any of the others are slouches. The vocal performances by Morse & Stolt are simply amazing, the drums are a match for Trewavas on bass, and the guitar and keys combine wonderfully to create a soundscape that takes one back to the joy of symphonic Yes, Genesis, Camel, the best proto prog. In other words, all the stuff that we loved so much in the halcyon days, mixed together with the best of the modern. I would here say that if you love this, then you must explore The Flower Kings (symphonic albums, not more jazz orientated) and Spock’s Beard, whose sound and attitude it resembles most of the constituent parts.
But even this oral joy is not the best here. For me, this dream track is supplanted by the beautiful lyric and execution of We All Need Some Light. The live version I have sees Neal Morse dedicate this to the 9/11 victims of New York a little while later. At the time of it being written, the lyrics just express that lovely, and probably naive, hope that we as a race can all pull together and find some light and live together in peace. Morse puts in his finest vocal performance of a great career, and the guitar playing is straight from the heart, whilst Portnoy plays one of the finest understated power drumming I have heard. This remains one of my all-time favourites.
Mystery Train is funky and bombastic, whilst the orchestral My New World is the finest track that The Flower Kings never got to record. It is clearly the work of a group, rather than those of disparate individuals, and the fact that this was recorded in such a quick time is testament to the talents on display here. It might have benefited, I suppose, from having a couple of minutes shaved off, but that really is a minor and pointless quibble. This was designed to be an over-the-top album. The strings at the commencement are just perfect as the opening, before the majestic guitar gets to work. The passage of Stolt singing gently, backed by a delicate piano and backing vocals, still has the hair raised on the back of my neck, and the main instrumental section is incredibly disciplined and enjoyable.
Lastly, there is the Procol Harum cover (at the time we did not know that this would become a staple feature of the group) In Held ('Twas) In I. This was one of the finest tracks that great band put to record, and this more than does it justice, from the opening poetry to the guitar led close. I believe that it was Portnoy who pushed for this to be included, and I, for one, am glad that he did.
I remember twelve years ago being rather excited about this album's release. I think I saw it advertised in Kerrang magazine, although I could be wrong. Whatever, its simple joy and celebration of life and a genre I love has never left me, and it richly deserves the classification of essential, a modern classic with more than a nod to the past glories.
If you don't have it, get it, and see what all the fuss is about.
These days, you can probably buy a copy of Yes Live On Order In Anytown Theatre, there are that many live Yes album releases, audio and visual. I am guilty of owning a fair few of them, but I have to say that this is one of my favourites.
Recorded at the legendary House Of Blues, this is from The Ladder tour, and is virtually note for note from the gig I saw in Cardiff, Wales, and this was easily one of the finest shows I saw the band on.
The major reason? Well, I thought The Ladder was a fine, excellent release, the sound of a band still forcefully relevant over 30 years since their formation, and well before they could be accused of needing incarceration in the nearest retirement home. In fact, I rather regret that this particular version of the band was so short lived, because at the heart of this is the incredible performance by one Igor Khuroshev, the Russian born keyboardist brought into the band by Anderson (they allegedly recorded an album together which never saw the light of day) following one of Wakeman's by now regular strops and exits, and what an addition he was, too. Sorry, but listening to Awaken, and Homeworld, in particular, this only goes to show that this man was vastly superior to anything Geoff Downes could possibly bring to Yes.
The way in which Perpetual Change is hammered out, and jammed, takes one back to those halcyon days of the 1970's, when this great band had so much to say to the world musically.
The production is crystal clear. The band sound like they are genuinely enjoying every single second of performing (just witness Squire harmonising and thumping out that bass and White crashing away as if his very life depended upon it, the sound of prog's greatest ever rhythm section), and all the new material comes over very well indeed.
A gem of a live album, and very highly recommended. This is not merely a "greatest hits live" recording, but the chronicle of a genuine tour promoting very strong new material, and all sit together extremely nicely.
PETER GABRIEL - OVO
By far and away the best bit of The Millennium celebrations.
I am presently reading a book entitled The Blunders of Our Government, which is an entertaining look at the (many) cock up's that our political and establishment leaders inflict upon us. One such blunder was the shockingly expensive Millennium Dome built and populated for the new century celebrations, but a rather crass "Cool Britannia" stunt inflicted upon us by Blair and co.
The book details the mess in some detail, but does not mention once a certain Peter Gabriel, who, having plotted several similar (aborted) projects elsewhere in Europe over the years, got the gig to compose and coordinate the musical extravaganza at the Dome. There is a reason for this, and it is a simple one. By and large, his contribution, and the music that found its way onto this cd, was a success, artistically, if not commercially (it bombed, but then again, so did Passion, which I regard as his finest work ever, including his Genesis period).
Gabriel, very much in keeping with the political thoughts of the time (multi-cultural society & etc.), took his base from the pioneering Real World work and artists he had nurtured, together with stalwart long term collaborators such as Levin and Rhodes. It is, like Passion, a collection of songs and ideas that tell a story, except there are, here, more lyrics present.
The cd did come with a booklet, which gave an insight into the story of the show. It, to quote, tells the story of three stages of our evolution, through the lives of three generations of a family. It is the story of a family in transition, divided by internal conflict, and by the great changes going on around them. It is also a story of forbidden love.
There's straightforward then, eh?
Musically, it is grand, exceptionally well produced, complex, and not for those who seek a "quick fix", which is why, of course, it didn't sell too well. When you hear the pounding, urgent, intense drums on The Time Of The Turning (reprise), though, you simply sit agog and wonder at the genius behind it. For sure, if you enjoyed Rhythm Of The Heat on PG IV, this is for you.
A couple of tracks, those, it is fair to say, more "traditional" Gabriel tracks, became long term live staples. My personal favourite is Father, Son, a quite gorgeous tribute to his and our fathers', recognising those special moments we have and had with the man responsible for who we are. The brass section on this, by the way, brings the track an intensity and emotion that the live version could never have. There is also Downside Up, sung here by Elizabeth Fraser (of Cocteau Twins) and Paul Buchanan (The Blue Nile), a track which I think is sumptuous, but did sound better vocally live with Gabriel and his daughter Melanie, although having said that, the live version could never capture those incredible closing rhythms and beats heard here.
Also, in case people thought this was a mainly cosy affair, we do also have Gabriel at his most industrial and explorative, witness The Tower That Ate People, which then morphs into the recurring African beat of Revenge. The whole album closes naturally, and impressively, mixing the tuneful, emotional, adventurous, and as an ensemble piece, with the very long (for solo Gabriel) Make Tomorrow.
This album deserves to be featured more highly in any appreciation of Gabriel than perhaps it is at present. Full of great ideas, almost perfect production, and thoughtful music which did far more to promote and capture a multi-cultural country, society, concept, and continent than any politically correct cobblers forced on the population by New Labour. Going back to the book I am reading; it is no accident that Gabriel is not mentioned as one of the Dome blunders.
An excellent album, only just falling short of the extremely high standards set by Passion. I cannot recommend it highly enough.
This album is another one of those which tends to divide prog fans the world over. You love it or you hate it. Specifically, you either love Neal Morse or hate him, because I think it is universally accepted that the standard of musicianship here and on other albums by this band is nothing short of exceptional.
For myself, I believe that this work represents a highpoint of Morse's career, probably only eclipsed by the debut Transatlantic effort. It is also, in my opinion, the clear highpoint of this band's output, although I might stress that the two are not necessarily linked.
The album is bookended by two incredible, daring, and massive opus tracks, At The End Of The Day, and the twenty-seven minute long Great Nothing.
The opener starts proceedings in magnificent, symphonic, fashion, and is, indeed, the type of track that many Yes fans were hoping the old boys would come out with in 2000. I love the chorus in this, amongst the grand mellotron and symphonic soundscapes. It is about the perfect “tribute” track because it is created with such a knowing and loving nod to the symphonic masters of yore.
In between, we have a series of shorter tracks. Revelation is an interesting, and enjoyable, mix of light and heavy moods, with a distinctive commercial edge to proceedings, particularly in the chorus. Thoughts Part II is more of a throwaway track to me, too frenetic in parts for its own good, but still with some delicate and enjoyable vocals.
All On A Sunday is basically an enjoyable pop/prog romp, with a lovely upbeat rhythm, swirling keyboards, and relentlessly upbeat guitar backing Morse clearly enjoying every second. As with albums such as 90125, to which this album has understandably been compared, there is nothing wrong with a deliberately commercial song, if it is as well performed and well-meaning as this.
The final short track is Goodbye To Yesterday and is the type of lush acoustic number which lifts my spirits every time I hear it, all of this underscored by a delicate and mournful mellotron. Morse, I feel, has very rarely sounded better as he sings his heart out on a piece of lost love.
And so, to the magnum opus, Great Nothing. You really are asking for trouble when you name a track in such a fashion, but thankfully such worries are quickly dissipated. The opening section is extremely dark and foreboding with a taste of Wagnerian opera to these ears, with a brief, and lovely, acoustic guitar interlude before a tremendous riff brings the track to life, when Okumoto shows his pure class on organ. The following piano and vocal introduction to the main track is wonderfully lovely, and oozes sheer class. As we move on into the "main section", there is, at first listen, a confusing mix of moods and signatures, and it really isn't until many listens that you learn to appreciate the fact that it does gel together very well. Many passages are extremely reminiscent of The Flower Kings more experimental instances, whilst others are deliberately designed to give the impression that this is Spock's Beard's very own Close To The Edge, or Tales From Topographic Oceans, i.e. a collection of movements creating one whole suite.
Throughout, the band are performing at the top of their game. Such a suite demands tight playing and strong production to bring us the contrasts between bombastic and delicate, and it wins here on every level. I think a special mention should go to Dave Meros, whose ferocious bass playing at the more bombastic phases is simply incredible, but all players shine on what is a very ambitious track, which could so easily have fallen apart, but, instead, ranks as one of the finest symphonic pieces of modern times. It also passes that very difficult trick of keeping the listener's attention throughout, right up to the fantastically uplifting conclusion.
This is an extremely good album, and by far my favourite that the band released. For any readers of this review who might have come across Transatlantic late in that project's career and are curious about exploring the bands that make up the supergroup in more detail, this is the perfect place to start with Spock's Beard, because, in truth, they really didn't come anywhere near the heights of this symphonic delight on other releases.