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A frantic fortnight of  gigs for ProgBlog began on March 9th at Genova's Angelo Azzurro Club, a much loved venue under threat of closure. Marina Montobbio's series of Lady Prog Nights was on its third event featuring local symphonic prog bands Melting Clock and Panther & C...

By ProgBlog, Feb 26 2018 09:12PM

A new, one-off live Old Grey Whistle Test appeared on our TVs at the end of last week and though largely unremarkable from a prog point of view, one of the sofa guests was Ian Anderson. The Jethro Tull front man had also recently appeared on BBC Four’s Hits, Hype & Hustle series of films, offering some insightful recollections on the music business, and now he’s appearing on the front cover of the current Prog magazine (Prog 85), with a fairly large proportion of the publication talking about Tull’s 50th anniversary and the 40th anniversary edition of Heavy Horses, due out in a few days’ time.

Ian Anderson, Prog 85
Ian Anderson, Prog 85

The vast bulk of the article below was published in June 2014 but it’s been updated and edited to reflect the ProgBlog experience during the intervening (almost) four years:

For someone who was into prog in 1972, my appreciation of the music of Jethro Tull came fairly late, even though my father used to whistle Living in the Past, which had been covered in 1971 by Canadian trumpeter Maynard Ferguson. From someone who would not infrequently refer to prog as ‘racket’, this was something of a revelation. He’d also whistle Light My Fire after José Feliciano's cover version won a Grammy in 1969.

Tull were originally a blues band but the proto-prog of Stand Up (1969) hinted at the direction they were about to embark upon. I think that this album, more than any other of the Tull canon, was responsible for influencing Italian prog bands. Though it represents the first of their albums that I like, the period between 1969 and 1982 is littered with hits and misses. Bill Burford was the first of my friends to buy any Tull albums, and he bought into them in a fairly big way. I appreciated the more lofty concepts, tongue-in-cheek or otherwise: Thick as a Brick (1972), A Passion Play (1973), Minstrel in the Gallery (1975) and from there got into the prog-folk trio of albums beginning with Songs from the Wood (1977). The first Tull album I bought was Heavy Horses, shortly after it came out in 1978. I’d actually gone into local store Blackshaw’s and bought a copy of King Crimson’s Earthbound but, finding the raw and bluesy 1972 version of Crimson just a little too raw and bluesy, I took it back and swapped it for the Tull; as a mooching teenager I wrote naff poetry and, along with the rocking title track and No Lullaby, I kind of liked the sentiment of Rover.

Stand Up (1969)
Stand Up (1969)

I’m not particularly a fan of Aqualung (1971) which may have been the first of their albums I heard, played at my friend Bill’s house. He also owned the compilation Living in the Past (1972) but I found most of the music uninspiring. I wasn’t the only one of my coterie to lack an appreciation of the full Tull catalogue and according to the music industry, I was partly responsible for killing music as I recorded tapes for my brother Tony to listen to while he was away at university. The following is an extract from a letter he wrote to me in September 1979:

There now follows a critique of “Thick as a Brick” which is based on numerous listenings and the rigid thought process of a closed mind. Show it to Bill as well. I don’t expect either of you to agree, as will become obvious!

In my opinion Tull have not progressed very far beyond this album with their later works (“Vocal recitals from the lignified angiosperm” and “Equine mammals of large mass” being the ones I have heard.) However, I shall not pursue that argument here, but may be induced to do so at a later date.

The vocals are a very important feature of this album and I suspect that they are present on about half the playing time. Unfortunately, I find them rather irritating. “Feeheeheeheeheeheeheels” or a similar variant ending many of the lines is not very imaginative and indeed becomes tedious quite rapidly. Mr Anderson’s aquistic [sic] guitar is undeniably jinky-jink, although his lack of inspiration here is redeemed to a certain extent by some excellent flute. The other musicians in the band are not really given many opportunities to demonstrate great virtuosity, because it is not that sort of an album. They are obviously competent, however. The drummer does get a solo – but then I’m not very enthusiastic about drum solos and anyway Bill would deny me the right to comment on his technique.

I feel that the strength of the composition throughout the album can be questioned. Much of the album consists of a few basic melodies, which are developed to a limited extent but not enough to maintain my interest. Other passages rely on rhythmic, almost mono-aural / monotonous (one sound!) thumps.

Both sides are a little disjointed, the second side possibly more than the first e.g. the progression on the second side through free-form jazziness, a quasi-choral passage, and classical guitar, direction eventually being established with a repetitive guitar riff and organ and vocal accompaniment. This leads on to the best part of the album – undiluted technorock, including a few unexpected bars of orchestral style – and played on strings – just before the end.

** (2 stars) Mike the Mod, NME

Mike says he doesn’t know whether or not to recommend his readers to “No Pussyfooting” instead. After all, it is much cheaper

I have to admit that Tony had a valid point about the ‘jinky–jink’ guitar, something we looked on with derision, and the "Feeheeheeheeheeheeheels” but, noting his use of the term ‘technorock’, a word we used to describe keyboard-led music before we actually heard the term ‘prog’, I think the use of organ makes the album. Tony also didn’t have the advantage of sitting with the St Cleve Chronicle in front of him, something that makes the album a genuine immersive experience. The subsequent A Passion Play was quite difficult going but worth the effort. Perhaps my favourite Tull album is the relatively unsung Minstrel in the Gallery. The title track has all the hallmark qualities of a prog anthem and the Ian Anderson-dominated acoustic tracks feel somewhat more mature than previous material, possibly because of its reflective nature; on a recent play of the album I was reminded of how good David Palmer was at string arrangements. Baker Street Muse is an almost side-long epic with its four subsections, and harkens back to both Thick as a Brick and A Passion Play territory. Spoken sections at the beginning and end of the album show that the band has not lost its sense of humour.

The folk-laden sounds of Songs from the Wood, Heavy Horses and Stormwatch include a more divergent keyboard set-up, as David Palmer joins the band as a second keyboard player but it’s the bouncy, up-front bass of John Glascock that is most different from preceding Tull (I don’t think he was really allowed to shine on Too Old to Rock ‘n’ Roll.) The pre-Christian references and ecological concerns of Songs from the Wood give way to political matters on Stormwatch (North Sea Oil, Dark Ages) and these in turn give way to more mundane matters such as 4WD on A (1980) as the band moved further away from prog along with prevailing musical tastes. Originally intended as an Ian Anderson solo album, hence the title, the line-up for A was a very different Jethro Tull which, with the recruitment of Eddie Jobson who had been supporting Tull on tour with UK, failed to deliver anything like the music which made up the back catalogue. 1982’s Broadsword and the Beast was a partial move back towards the late 70s prog-folk but the Anderson solo album Walk into Light (1983) and Tull’s Under Wraps (1984) embraced a much more contemporary sound that felt more akin to pop than prog. I saw Tull at the Royal Albert Hall during the A tour and again at the Hammersmith Odeon for Under Wraps and was disappointed with both performances; the last album from that period remaining in my collection is Broadsword, having given Under Wraps to my brother as my main medium switched from vinyl to CD.

I neglected all new releases for many years, though I continued to play the records I did own and supplement my collection with CDs of early material I didn’t possess, but my interest in TAAB2, released as an Anderson solo album forty years after Thick as a Brick, kindled by articles in Prog magazine, was realised in 2014 when I bought a second-hand deluxe edition CD from Si’s Sounds in Lewes. I’m not sure about some of the lyrics but the music was good and the concept of ‘whatever happened to Gerald Bostock?’ was quite entertaining. I file my CD of TAAB2 under 'J' for Jethro Tull rather than 'A' for Ian Anderson. The appearance of Anderson, playing a ‘best of Jethro Tull’ set at HRH Prog 4 in 2016 was one of the main attractions of the event and didn’t disappoint. His vocals may not be as strong as they once were but his flute, the other musicians and the set list were all excellent.

His recent TV appearances seem to have conferred something of an elderly statesman persona, though the Jethro Tull brand still persists with a UK tour commencing in April. During their 50 years, Anderson has always had the ability to express everyday things in a poetic way, whether it’s the ‘battlefield allotments’ next to railway lines or ‘newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand’ and there are a number of themes that run throughout his work (he does seem to have a thing about trains.) However, it’s not only his lyrics that stand out for me. Perhaps out of all the prog bands that use flute, and there are a fair number from Moody Blues to early Crimson to Gabriel-era Genesis to Focus to Camel to Van der Graaf Generator and countless Italian bands, the first group you associate with flute is Jethro Tull.

By ProgBlog, Aug 15 2016 10:18PM

In the early 70s bands released a studio album roughly every year. Perhaps the first of the prog bands to increase the time between new studio output was Pink Floyd, with an 18 month elapse between Dark Side of the Moon (March 1973) and Wish You Were Here (September 1975) and then a further 16 months before Animals came out in January 1977. The gap between Relayer (November 1974) and Going for the One (July 1977) was tempered by solo albums from the Yes camp in 1975 and 1976 and though the wait for Wish You Were Here, possibly the most anticipated release of the time, seemed interminable, the follow up to Brain Salad Surgery (November 1973) took ELP an incredible 29 months, up to March 1977, for Works Volume 1. These bands had to contend with the rise of punk and have to take some responsibility for the brief but successful assault on the music scene, through absence from the country (including for tax reasons), coming back with material that had to compete in a different environment, one where the counter-culture ideals and ideas which had been so important to the genesis of progressive rock were no longer valid. The fan base seemed to hold firm for the premier acts: Going for the One stayed at no. 1 for two weeks in the UK and climbed to no. 8 in the US charts; Animals peaked at number 2 in the UK and one place lower in America; and though Works Volume 1 was less successful, bearing in mind the format of one side of the original double LP for material by each of the members and only one ‘band’ side, it still managed to get to number 9 in the UK and 12 on Billboard 200.

One effect of punk on prog acts was the redefinition of their sound. In the immediate aftermath of the arrival of the upstarts, Yes first became more direct (think of the title track from Going for the One) but as punk gave way to New Wave which was in turn subsumed by the glamour of MTV, they went with the commercial flow and produced their most successful selling album 90125. The Floyd may have continued to push the boundaries of studio possibilities but the material that made up Wish You Were Here was the last of their symphonic prog output until the sans Waters A Momentary Lapse of Reason in 1987, having descended into straight forward rock ‘n’ roll with The Wall and The Final Cut; I was ashamed of the flirtation with a disco beat on Another Brick in the Wall (part 2). The less said about ELP’s confused Love Beach (1978) the better... Jethro Tull, another globally successful act were already changing from the diehard prog of Thick as a Brick (1972), A Passion Play (1973) and Minstrel in the Gallery (recorded in Monte Carlo for tax reasons in 1975) to the prog folk trio of Songs From the Wood (1977), Heavy Horses (1978) and Stormwatch (1979) via Too Old to Rock ‘n’ Roll: Too Young to Die! (1976), a release Ian Anderson described as a reaction to punk. This was a potential rock musical intended to demonstrate the cyclical nature of fashion and fads but, despite being a worthy concept, the songs didn’t come anywhere close to their standards reached between 1972 and 1975. It was probably time to change style after Stormwatch which sounds a little tired but I wasn’t impressed with the clear out that resulted in A (1980), despite the presence of Eddie Jobson. This was pop-rock and the songs never engaged or challenged me.

The resurgence of the genre in the mid 90s conformed to a different paradigm. In an industry that had changed beyond reason in the intervening years, it was never going to a re-run of the early 70s and if the music was to reach the public, it couldn’t involve chasing record labels like in the 80s where artistic control had to be largely ceded to accountants and managers, even though many of the bands had been integral to the success of an album-based market in the first place; it didn’t rely on any single solution but utilised a number of emerging technologies which included the internet and file sharing, crowd sourcing, online fanzines and discussion forums and social media, all of which empowered bands to take back control of their output. One practical facet was that collaborators didn’t even have to be on the same side of the world to produce a record, though with the requirement to maintain a reasonable lifestyle, musicians often took on other time-consuming roles. As a consequence some material took a long time to gestate, from concept to physical release making the wait between Dark Side and Wish You Were Here seem ridiculously short.

I first saw the David Cross Band as ‘special guests’ at a John Wetton concert at the Astoria in London in 1996, performing material from their forthcoming album Exiles which I thought was complex and aggressive but very good. I eventually found a copy of the CD in New York a few years later and I think it’s easily as good as I remember from the gig. The period between Exiles and the subsequent DCB album Closer than Skin puts almost all other delays in the shade, coming eight years later in 2005. The two albums are similar but Closer has less musical variation and more vocals. This is partly because Exiles features guest vocalists Peter Hammill and Cross’ former band mate John Wetton with Wetton singing on a pretty good version of the title track and also on This is Your Life, where the words are penned by Crimson alumnus Peter Sinfield. Another Crimson connection is guitar provided by Robert Fripp on tracks Duo and Troppo. More links to Cross’ Crimson past come on Closer, where all the lyrics are by Richard Palmer-James. If eight years seems an eternity, it has been a further 11 years waiting for Sign of the Crow.

I was one of a fairly intimate audience for the launch gig of the David Cross and Robert Fripp CD Starless Starlight in May 2015 where Cross was joined onstage by Tony Lowe on guitar, Yumi Hara on keyboard and vocals, and saxophonist/flautist/whistles player David Jackson with interpretations of the Fripp guitar loops and Cross violin improvisations around the Starless theme (from Red.) That show was immensely enjoyable, including some unexpected pieces like Stan Tracey’s Starless and Bible Black and a reading from Dylan Thomas’ Under Milk Wood, so when I saw that the David Cross Band were going to perform a launch gig for Sign of the Crow in London, I signed up immediately; I was also pleased to see that David Jackson would be appearing as a guest.

A couple of days before the event an email came through from the ticket agency warning that the doors would open 30 minutes earlier than originally advertised but unfortunately on the day (Tuesday 9th August) I’d arranged to have dinner out with my family and though I thought I could make the gig in time, the fantastic food and relaxed atmosphere at Rucoletta in Foster Lane near St Paul’s meant that I arrived at the Lexington just as Richard Palmer-James was finishing his set (Palmer-James was once again responsible for the lyrics of the new DCB album.) I bought a couple of CDs from the merchandise stall, English Sun by David Cross and Andrew Keeling, an exquisite release of flute and violin pieces accurately described as ‘electric chamber music’, and a live CD from Tony Pagliuca and David Jackson with the Massimo Dona Quintet performing Le Orme’s Collage, an album widely regarded as the first progressivo Italiano release (the CD is called Re-Collage.) When I got home I discovered that there was no CD in the sleeve and had to email Chiemi Cross who put me in touch with a very apologetic David Jackson. I’m expecting the real CD soon.

The second part of the show was a duet between the two Davids, a short but challenging set that included a piece from Starless Starlight with Fripp’s original guitar loop where Jackson was asked to play the Starless riff in reverse but refused to do so, citing the perfection of the original phrase. Another tune borrowed the title of the track Water on the Flame, to be found on the new album, as a spoken lyric. The mutual respect between these two fine musicians was quite evident and they really challenged expectations of violin/sax music. Jackson has suggested that there are studio recordings of the two of them improvising, pushing each other, which sounds like it could be edited into an amazing album.

Though he doesn’t appear on Sign of the Crow, Jackson added sax and keyboard for the David Cross Band, part of a line-up of incredibly gifted musicians: Paul Clark on guitars; Jinian Wilde on vocals; Craig Blundell on drums; Mick Paul on six string bass; and Cross himself. Beginning with a phenomenal drum solo (was it in 9/8 time?) the set featured the new album but also dipped into the past, with Nurse Insane (from The Big Picture), Over Your Shoulder (from Closer than Skin) and Tonk and the DCB version of Exiles (from Exiles). I hadn’t heard the new material because I was waiting for the CD to arrive in the post but it was powerful, complex, and at times verging on prog metal. From where I was standing it was also rather loud but I was still able to discern the sax, the violin and the keyboards. Paul Clark’s rhythm work was at times a heavy chug but his soloing was clear and precise; Mick Paul’s bass work was stunning throughout and Jinian Wilde was a revelation. He was the unknown quantity for me but his vocals suited all the material, including Exiles, a stunning rendition of Crimson’s Starless, and the encore, 21st Century Schizoid Man. He also wore a rather good top hat with a jester-like band and dangling bells, supplemented by a pair of goggles. He may have visited the same milliner as the two Davids!

My two favourite new tracks, since confirmed listening to the studio versions, were The Pool and Rain Rain; the former carefully constructed, melodic and anthemic (think next year’s Prog Awards), while Rain Rain is another slow burner but which still includes sudden changes of feel; it’s these changes that make the music unpredictable, gripping and enjoyable. The band was fantastic and the enthusiastic crowd, assembled in a fairly intimate venue having come from various points around the globe, were treated to a very special performance. A great gig, the best of 2016 so far and (now I have it) a really good album.

By ProgBlog, Oct 26 2014 09:39PM

The ProgBlog didn’t appear last week due to a combination of circumstances. Firstly, the weekend was taken up with the TUC Britain Needs a Pay Rise march in central London followed immediately by Crystal Palace vs. Chelsea at Selhurst Park, with domestic duties transferred to the Sunday and secondly, because I had writers block.

The ProgBlog is intended to form the basis of a book, A personal Guide to Progressive Rock, should any publisher be willing to take up the idea. After all, Prog magazine has been going for over 5 years and there is a growing library of progressive rock-related literature. I’ve amassed around 60000 words in blog posts and a further 15000 in gig reviews, aiming to write about 1100 words each week. I’ve stuck to this formula pretty well, taking breaks for holidays when necessary and using the holiday experience to form the basis for a post.

The Genesis documentary continues to provoke umbrage amongst prog aficionados. A conversation with brother Richard, who is coming down from Cumbria to London to see Steve Hackett next Saturday, was dismissive of Genesis: Together and Apart because of the lack of input from Hackett and included nothing at all about the guitarist’s extensive solo output. Speaking to Jim Knipe on our way to see West Bromwich Albion vs. Crystal Palace yesterday (Jim is a Baggies fan and when Palace and West Brom manage to be in the same league, we both do the home and away fixtures) he also referred to the TV programme and reiterated his comment posted to the blog that he thought it was outrageous that the band continued to call themselves Genesis when their output in the 80s and beyond was such rubbish. Richard had suggested the next blog should be about when prog bands stopped playing prog; Jim had derided rump Genesis for not being prog...

The golden age of prog ended in 1978 for reasons covered in a number of my posts. Many of the less successful acts simply disbanded but of the major prog bands that continued, Yes changed musical direction following the perfectly acceptable Drama with a modern-sounding rock; an established three-piece Genesis continued to strip their music of complexity and churned out soft-rock; Pink Floyd succumbed to control by Roger Waters and, despite the brilliance of their studio trickery dropped any pretence of symphonic prog and became a run-of-the-mill rock band with lyrics that seemed to attempt to out-snarl the punks, who had themselves largely disappeared; ELP broke up following Love Beach (1978) and made two brief almost reunions as Emerson Lake and Powell in 1985 and 3 (Emerson, Palmer and Robert Berry) in 1988 that didn’t really approach prog territory. The album Emerson Lake and Powell has two tracks running at over 7 minutes and also includes an adaptation of Holst’s Mars, something that Lake had performed when he was in King Crimson, running in at just less than 8 minutes; To the Power of 3 has one 7 minute plus song; following a prog-folk trilogy that ended with Stormwatch in 1979, Jethro Tull also modernised their sound and, in contrast to the stable line-up of the band since 1976’s Too Old to Rock ‘n’ Roll: Too Young to Die adopted a policy of changing musicians for subsequent albums. Though originally intended to be an Ian Anderson solo album, A was released under the Tull moniker and with short, contemporary songs (4WD [Low Ratio], Fylingdale Flyer, Protect and Survive) it really wasn’t prog. The Pine Marten’s Jig forms a sonic link to the three preceding albums but the other tracks are stylistically closer to material that appeared on Anderson’s 1983 solo album, Walk into Light. Tull’s 1982 offering, The Broadsword and the Beast featured Walk into Light collaborator Peter-John Vettese on keyboards, strikes me as being closer to Stormwatch that to A because the subject matter is less ‘modern’ and the concept of Beastie is suggestive of folklore. I thought Under Wraps was uninspired and simply disappointing.

The other major act, last seen in 1974 following the famous announcement that King Crimson “had ceased to exist” made a surprise return in 1981. Quite different from previous incarnations and more aligned with art-rock thanks to the inclusion of former Talking Head Adrian Belew, this Crimson, originally testing the water as Discipline, were most definitely prog; different, but certainly prog. It’s deeply ironic that it was King Crimson who returned as standard-bearers for the genre (from the perspective of someone who listens to and buys progressive rock music) as the other main proponents changed to conform with a bland music industry but, as the neo-prog movement briefly burned bright and faded, Crimson also broke up in 1984 after three albums of remarkable originality. A ten year hiatus, during which time prog was re-evaluated and subsequently deemed less toxic than it had been at any time since the mid 70s saw not just the reappearance of King Crimson but also of former acts and an amazing roll call of new bands from all over the world.

The issue of retaining a band’s name has resulted in more than one legal battle. Jim suggests that it’s shameful that Banks, Collins and Rutherford should have continued to call themselves Genesis. Though I agree with this sentiment, bearing in mind that Banks and Rutherford brought in vocalist Ray Wilson for the 1997 Genesis album Calling All Stations that also included drumming provided by US prog royalty, Nick D’Virgilio of Spock’s Beard, Banks and Rutherford were two of the founding members of the band. The Yes saga was resolved with the union of Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe and the Squire-Rabin LA based Yes but, rather like Jim and his issues with the post-Hackett Genesis, I have a problem with the 90125 band taking on the name of Yes. Originally a project that went under the name of Cinema (hence the track Cinema on the album) they only became Yes after the late inclusion of Jon Anderson. The temporary disagreement between Tony Kaye and producer Trevor Horn and subsequent hiring of Eddie Jobson might have put the adoption of the name Yes in (legal) jeopardy but Kaye was brought back into the fold and Jobson, not wanting to share keyboard duties, stood down. I think there’s a qualitative difference between the music pre- and post 90125; Drama, though lacking Anderson and Wakeman, is stylistically similar to the preceding albums and is undoubtedly symphonic prog. 90125, on the other hand, is a very different sonic beast that also demonstrates a shift away from the spiritual and ecological themes that characterised Yes musical territory up to Drama. Jim’s point is that the post-Hackett Genesis is stylistically and thematically divergent from the pastoral symphonic long-form pieces based on mythology that required input from all band members, not least Steve Hackett who had to treat the guitar quite differently from that used in normal rock bands, to make it stand out from the keyboard melodies. Though The Lamb appeared quite different at the time, you can detect motifs originally aired in Selling England and, perhaps more importantly, this was the classic prog Genesis line-up.

The Gilmour-led Pink Floyd ended up in a legal battle with Roger Waters but again, despite the inclusion of founding members Rick Wright and Nick Mason in the Momentary Lapse line-up, Gilmour’s resurrection of the Floyd name should be allowed on the grounds that A Momentary Lapse of Reason is a return to the symphonic prog last expressed on Wish You Were Here. The post-Barrett Floyd were a very different kettle of fish from the whimsy psychedelia that dominates Piper. Wright and Gilmour were together responsible for the more progressive leanings that emerged from the fledgling space rock of Saucerful; Waters seemed to be hooked on simplistic acoustic guitar riffs that are detectable on his solo portion of Ummagumma, through the short tracks on Atom Heart and Meddle and that re-emerge on the tracks Wish You Were Here and Pigs on the Wing, then dominate The Wall, The Final Cut and his first solo album The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking. Despite its success, I don’t really regard The Wall as a genuine Pink Floyd album in a musical sense because of the domination of the ideas of Waters and how the concept was delivered to the rest of the band. The live performance was a wonderful piece of theatrics but it wasn’t prog. I don’t imagine there are too many other people who think like that...

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