Author Archives: Dr Nick
To echo John, “Wow” is a pretty good way of summing it up. “Stunning” and “special” would also do. There are countless superlatives that could be substituted here.
I was thinking a lot about last night’s gig as I travelled north on the train this morning and I’ll share a few of those thoughts here. There’ll be no spoilers, and I’ll not be writing an actual review myself – I’m sure John and other Progarchists will be doing that more thoroughly and eloquently than I could.
The first thing that strikes me is how unusual it is for a well-established band, with such a body of work behind them, to have never before performed as a live act. That’s part of what made yesterday evening so magical to me, aside from the obvious special qualities of the music itself.
Second observation: debutantes could be forgiven some hesitancy or nervousness, and we might not expect them to sound as tight as a more seasoned unit. Yet there was none of that here. The thrill of seeing this music performed in a concert venue for the very first time was greatly amplified by the confidence and assurance of the performers. It simply felt like they’d been doing this as a band for years. (If only they had been…)
Third (slightly shamefaced) observation: I’ll confess to some doubts before last night. I worried about how well that amazing album sound, rich, multilayered and impeccably recorded, would translate to the live setting. Surely some of its depth and subtlety would be lost in the process? Well on that score I’m happy to have been conclusively proven a complete idiot!
These players have taken that advice to “run hard as you like” to heart. Moments that were powerful and energetic on record seemed to take on new power, greater energy. Yet none of the delicacy was lost – a testament to their skill as musicians.
Big Big Train have emerged from the chrysalis, and the splendour of their new form is dazzling.
And so another giant of the genre passes.
I’ve found it difficult to put into words how I truly feel about this. When someone you’ve regarded as a musical hero for 35 years of your life is suddenly gone, there is bound to be shock and numbness, but I’ve been trying to reach beyond that and think about what Chris meant to me and how he fits into the pantheon of rock’s greatest musicians.
The thing that always struck me on the sadly relatively few occasions that I saw Yes live was just how imposing a presence Chris Squire was. Partly, this was physical; he was a big guy, after all, and he prowled the stage like he owned it, in a manner befitting his stature. Of course, the other part of it was entirely down to how he handled a bass guitar.
Playing Fragile’s The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus) for the very first time was, for me, an ear-opening, revelatory experience, as I’m sure it was for many other fans of the band. That multi-layered sound was simply astonishing. And he made that Rickenbacker growl and scream, made it do things that few other rock bassists had dared to try. Back then, when I began my exploration of progressive music as a wide-eyed lad of thirteen, I had a complacent attitude to the instrument, content to think of it as something in the background, lending structure and texture to the overall sound but not being of particular importance melodically. Chris Squire was one of two people who changed that view irrevocably. The other, you’ll be unsurprised to learn, was Geddy Lee. But of the two, I think it was Chris who affected my view the most profoundly.
In a band with a complex and convoluted history of line-up changes, Chris was the singular fixed point: the axis about which The Roundabout turned. The Yes family will miss him sorely, and Yes, whatever form it might take in future, will be a very different beast without him.
Regular readers will know that The Tangent’s Andy Tillison is a firm favourite with many of the contributors to this site, myself included. You’ll not be surprised, therefore, to see some words from me about his most recent live outing – a special “Evening with…” show last Saturday at Wesley Hall in Crookes, just on the outskirts of Sheffield.
Wesley Hall is part of a Methodist church and not the most obvious location for a prog gig – until you learn that the minister there is none other than music-loving Progarchy contributor John Simms! Anyway, it’s a charming place and in many respects a good venue for an intimate show like this one – although I’ll admit the hill-top setting made me feel somewhat foolish for deciding to walk up from the city centre.
When I arrived, just a little bit sweaty and out of breath from the climb, a handful of people were standing outside, chatting amiably with Andy himself and his partner Sally. This relaxed and friendly atmosphere pretty much set the tone for the rest of the evening. There was no particular hurry to start and an understandable willingness to wait until fellow Progarchist Alison Henderson and partner Martin had managed to find something to eat, given the very lengthy drive they had undertaken to be there. Eventually, we made our way into the hall and found seats, and soon enough, when all had been fed and watered, the show began.
Andy had admitted beforehand to a certain degree of nervousness about this, his first proper solo gig, but it really didn’t show as he ran through an almost bewilderingly diverse repertoire, mixing classics from The Tangent and Po90 with an unexpected rendition of Rory Gallagher’s Bullfrog Blues and a hilarious Berlin School-inspired homage to classic UK kids TV show The Clangers – incorporating the theme from Vangelis’ Chariots Of Fire, no less! As if that weren’t already enough, we also enjoyed the incongruity of seeing a drum solo played on a keyboard and heard a raw, powerful performance of In Earnest preceding a jazzed-up version of The Commodores’ Three Times a Lady. Threaded through this intoxicating mixture were the anecdotes and dry self-deprecating wit of the man himself. A case in point would be the delightful tale of how GPS Culture‘s leitmotif was constructed by splicing the theme tune of soap opera East Enders onto the jingle from a PC World TV advert!
Thank you, Andy and Sally, for a joyous evening that will live long in the memory. And thank you, John, for hosting it!
There’s a great article from David Rowell of the Washington Post about an epic session listening to all seven shows of the Yes Progeny release, back-to-back:
Definitely worth a read!
This is not a proper gig review.
I’ve not got the time right now to do it justice, and besides, I’m still trying to process what I witnessed last night in Manchester.
So this is just me trying to get a few random thoughts and impressions committed to whatever the wordpress.com equivalent of paper is (data centre hard disk, I guess), before the buzz I’m still feeling subsides and the memory fades.
First things first: Wilson is a showman. Or rather, he’s grown into one. I’ve seen Porcupine Tree three times live and don’t remember him being as confident and self-assured with PT as he now is in front of an audience. He knows he’s produced a superb album (just the latest in a string of superb albums, let’s face it) and he knows he has musicians on stage with him who can deliver every nuance, night after night.
Of course, it’s not just about the music. Sure, he could walk on stage with his band, they could play and we could all go home happy that we’d been at a good gig. But a Steven Wilson show is more than that. It’s an experience, a veritable feast for the senses. The videos and lighting effects complement the music brilliantly. However, you don’t need to take my word for that: just check out Lasse Hoile’s photographs from the Manchester show. I’m getting shivers right now simply looking at them, as the memories come back to flood the synapses.
Attention to detail is the phrase that springs to mind – both in the way a Steven Wilson gig is presented to the audience visually and in the way that it actually sounds. A crap PA or poor venue acoustics can turn brilliant music from the greatest of bands into an evening’s entertainment that is mediocre at best. But that most emphatically is not the case here. I’ve seen him live on each of his solo tours and each time, the sound is up there with the best I’ve ever heard at a gig: not just good, but quadraphonic, to boot!
I won’t say too much about the set here, in case any of you reading this have tickets for upcoming gigs and want to avoid spoilers. However, I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say that he concentrates on the new album. The new material translates effortlessly to the live setting, particular highlights being the thrilling crescendo of Ancestral and the subsequent heart-wrenching rendition of Happy Returns. The emotional punch of the latter brings a lump to the throat, demolishing the common misconception that prog is cold or overly cerebral.
If the opportunity arises to catch this show then grab it with both hands. Seriously. If you have any liking for his music, this is something that you do not want to miss.
As Winter gives way to another Spring, new album releases are finding their way onto my radar in ever increasing numbers. Three new CDs dropped onto my doormat in rapid succession a couple of days ago and each, in its own way, is making a big first impression.
First up, we have Please Come Home, by Lonely Robot, John Mitchell’s new solo project. This is a disc that grabs you immediately – melodic and catchy as hell, with superb guitar playing throughout. If you enjoyed Sound Of Contact’s debut, or the recent release from former SoC member Dave Kerzner, there’s a strong possibility that you will fall in love with this. A proper review will follow soon…
Next is Public Service Broadcasting‘s second full album release, The Race For Space. If you’ve not heard this band, you really should give them a listen. They expertly blend sampled clips from various audiovisual archives with a unique musical style that is very difficult to pin down, leaping between pop, dance, ambient & electronic. Imagine if Kraftwerk played conventional instruments as well as synths… and were English… and wore tweed. It isn’t prog but it is innovative and highly entertaining. This album scores bonus points with an unashamed space geek like me simply because of its subject matter: the ‘golden era’ of space exploration, from Sputnik through to Apollo 17.
Finally, we have Sanguine Hum’s double-CD magnum opus, Now We Have Light. Confronted with this sprawling, ambitious epic, I can imagine just how a Genesis fan must have felt back in 1974, expecting another Selling England but faced with the intense, bewildering genius of The Lamb. On the strength of just two listens, it’s already clear that this is an altogether darker, more mature and more subtle offering than its excellent predecessor, The Weight Of The World. Dare I say an early candidate for Album Of The Year? Time will tell. It’s going to take me a while to untangle the complex musical threads of this album and make sense of it all, but it’s an adventure I look forward to with relish…
For quite a while now, I’ve been intrigued by Swedish proggers Beardfish and their distinctive, highly imaginative output. My level of interest grew considerably on encountering them live in 2013, in an all-too-brief slot supporting Spock’s Beard. Since then, I’ve been awaiting new music from them with a great sense of anticipation.
What, then, to make of latest release +4626-COMFORTZONE?
First, and most obviously, there’s that bizarre title – a reference to the dialling code for the birthplace of songwriter & founder member Rikard Sjöblom and his compatriots, and to the stifling small-town attitudes that can persist in such places. This, indeed, seems to be a theme linking several tracks on the album, not least Comfort Zone, where the protagonist bemoans his inability to leave that smothering environment, declaring
I don’t even like it here
And I do nothing but curse the very lot of you
I hate everything and everyone – except for the chosen few
A lifetime suffering bullying and intolerance in such places can lead to even more extreme antipathy, as demonstrated in Can You See Me Now?, the dark tale of a killer “setting out with a scythe to calm their hubris”. The message conveyed here is a powerful one:
And as your children shape themselves in your image
When they grow up to be just like you
And when they push the kid with the glasses
Face-first in a puddle of mud
Will you secretly smile and think “That’s my boy”?
Memorable though these moments are, it is the second half of this album that truly shines, offering depth and variety aplenty. The One Inside: Part 2 is delicately melodic, subtle and restrained, standing in stark contrast to out-and-out rocker Daughter / Whore. The latter, with its cheeky opening nod to Motörhead, evokes the gritty heaviness that characterised much of 2012’s riff-saturated The Void, but overall, the album is closer in feel to the signature expansive progginess that graced 2011 release Mammoth and, more particularly, its predecessor Destined Solitaire.
Two other tracks deserve special mention. If We Must Be Apart (A Love Story Continued) is the long-overdue sequel to an epic from 2005’s The Sane Day. As the longest track on the album, it is equally deserving of the ‘epic’ moniker. A Love Story dealt with a relationship break-up and this superior follow-up charts its distant aftermath. The story is terribly poignant, telling of a woman who can’t forget her past:
Now he’s more of a ghost who haunts her
And her husband can never know
Even with the new life that grows inside her
She still thinks about him from time to time
Her thoughts are interwoven with the words of her former lover who, unable to live in the present, writes her a desperate letter:
I cannot believe it’s been so long since we last spoke
You should see me now and how my life is just a joke
Everything I do reminds me of everything we used to do
Suddenly, events take a much darker and more disturbing turn, encompassing suicide threats, Internet stalking, black magic and a drug overdose, leading to a shocking conclusion:
She remembers that night when she found him laying
Curled up like a ball inside a circle of candle lights
He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t there, it wasn’t him no more
Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised, because unexpected twists and turns are a hallmark of this most fascinating of bands. Anyway, this track can justly lay claim to being the album’s masterpiece.
Ode To The Rock’n’Roller is even more compelling – from a lyrical perspective, at least – than If We Must Be Apart. Rooted in bitter personal experience, with its barbed swipe at the tribute band circuit and the attitudes of some music ‘fans’, it proves that Sjöblom can rival Andy Tillison for acerbic wit.
The song’s protagonist experiences a moment on stage where he feels transported to “a place where they make music that’s not written to accompany the vacuuming of your flat”, where “one minute I was rolling’ on the river, the next I was caught up in the rites of spring”. Predictably, this doesn’t go down well with the paying customers:
They look pretty pissed out there
I opened my heart and my soul for you
But you didn’t understand – your mind was locked
You just thought I was trying to be cool
Sjöblom leaves us in no doubt as to his disdain for these closed minds:
They didn’t come here to listen, they came here to drink
So play those three chords over and over
So they don’t have to think
Be that noise in the background
Just keep it on the backbeat
The rhythm of drinking
Til the singer goes “Yeah Yeah Ye-ah”
Thankfully, Beardfish are not content with being just a noise in the background. This album more than holds its own amongst their stellar prog portfolio, being cleaner sounding and more refined than predecessor The Void, and deliciously dark, to boot. Thoroughly recommended.
A new release from Lunatic Soul, the solo side-project of Riverside’s Mariusz Duda, is due on 13 October, according to Kscope.
Mariusz regards the 64-minute new album, entitled Walking On A Flashlight Beam, as “dark and intense”, “very melodious” and “one of the best things I’ve ever written” – all of which has my prog salivary glands working overtime.
Here’s a very brief taste of what’s to come…
Veteran Scottish proggers Abel Ganz, Alan Reed’s alma mater, released an album this month – their first since 2008’s Shooting Albatross.
The eponymous Abel Ganz is a whopping 72 minutes of new music and marks a deliberate attempt to move in a new direction, absorbing new influences. But the key thing you need to know is that it’s utterly splendid. Just a single listen was enough to put it squarely on my ‘Albums Of The Year’ shortlist and have me staying up late to share my excitement with you here in the hallowed pages of Progarchy.
I can’t offer much beyond some basic impressions after spending such a short time with this music, but here they are, for what they’re worth:
Delusions of Grandeur is a short instrumental opener that starts with delicate piano and oboe, then a crescendo of strings – just an orchestral appetiser for what is to follow.
Obsolescence is up next – an epic in five parts, totalling nearly 22 min. Part 1 is fleetingly reminiscent of Steve Hackett’s Narnia in a couple of places, but the acoustic guitar and harmonies are mostly of the Crosby, Stills & Nash sort, setting up the lovely summery vibe that pervades the album. Part 2 layers drums, synth and recorders on top of that acoustic loveliness, yielding some up-beat pop that is sure to have you tapping your feet and singing along. Bass guitar comes to the fore in Part 3, before some classic prog synth soloing. Part 4 returns us to largely acoustic territory initially, augmenting guitar with flute, before building to a crescendo of church organ sounds. Part 5 closes the suite with some electric guitar that starts somewhat wistfully and then develops into a more epic solo.
Spring is another short instrumental track, this time played entirely on acoustic guitar, serving as a bridge to subsequent more substantial pieces.
Recuerdos takes a leaf out of Big Big Train’s book and brings a brass band into play. Brass and acoustic guitar interweave over the soft chirrup of cicadas in this delicate and rather beautiful song, one of the highlights of the album.
As Heartland begins, the sound of insects morphs into the noises of a children’s playground and then the song develops a distinctly eastern flavour, both rhythmically and melodically, the latter due largely to some heavily treated female vocals that sound like they are being played backwards.
The album’s third instrumental track, End Of Rain, has a repeating acoustic guitar motif at its core but surrounds this with more conventionally proggy sounds, Mellotron included. The outro is unusual, played solely on bass and drums.
By way of contrast, Thank You has a warm and very traditional feel, even to the point of having lyrics that are partly in gaelic. It’s part folk and part country (complete with slide guitar), but the mash-up is surprisingly effective.
The oddly-titled A Portion of Noodles is the last and best of the album’s four instrumentals. It’s a purely acoustic track, like Spring, but is melodically more interesting.
Clocking in at over 14 minutes, penultimate track Unconditional is the longest single piece on the album (the five parts of Obsolescence being identified as separate tracks). It’s a good solid prog epic that flirts with jazz for a brief period, 4 minutes in.
Brass is at the forefront in closing track The Drowning, adding a tinge of melancholy to this understated piece.
In summary: this is gorgeous, summery, acoustic prog – and you really need it in your life. Head over to Bandcamp now to listen and buy.