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ProgBlog goes to the Biennale Architettura 2018 in Venice but still manages to find prog connections - and a relatively new record store...

By ProgBlog, Apr 17 2017 09:20AM

The scourge of anyone writing an essay is the charge of plagiarism and though I may have put personal academic involvement behind me, in a career that began pre-PC when my undergraduate essays were hand-written, I retain a professional training role and have a duty to check the work of a couple of my colleagues. The easiest way to avoid accusations of cheating is to use multiple sources, fully reference your work and include a comparative analysis as a summary to indicate your understanding of the subject. There are no shortcuts to essay writing when there is a multitude of plagiarism-checking software, free on the web, for use by both markers and students.

As an experiment, I ran the first 100 words of this article through Quetext which suggested I may have copied the sentence “The easiest way to avoid accusations of cheating is to use multiple sources, fully reference your work and include a comparative analysis as a summary to indicate your understanding of the subject” from a Wikipedia article on Fair Use! It may sound paranoid but I’ve written blogs and reviews on subjects that subsequently appear in Prog magazine where my phrasing and ideas, which I believe are characteristic of my personal style, have been included. There’s actually a rational explanation for this phenomenon: I mostly write about contemporary events, about artists touring or releasing material or appearing in the news for another reason, such as the support of Pink Floyd for the ‘Women’s boat to Gaza’; I’m writing about progressive rock so it’s likely to be something experienced by a fairly limited number of people who have similar expectations; our commentary will be largely based on audible and visual observations, though these may be perceived differently.

The feeling that just when you think you’ve come up with a great idea, somebody comes along and steals it took a further twist this week, following an article in the main section of The Guardian reporting that Ed Sheeran had settled out-of-court for $20 million after a plagiarism claim. My colleagues tend to tune into the radio at work, playing nothing that interests me and some things which really infuriate me (Sigala’s Sweet Lovin’, for example, which has undergone subtle mutations and is still being played as though it’s a current hit even though it originally came out in December 2015.) To my ears, a large number of pop songs are indistinguishable and this lack of musical diversity in pop music in general is a result of commoditisation, manufacturing and packaging which stifles creativity. The potential ground for borrowing the work of other song writers, particularly within dance music, gave me an idea for a blog and I emailed myself a few ideas and a rudimentary plan so I wouldn’t forget. Imagine my dismay when I opened G2 on Friday, with a front page headline “Has pop run out of tunes?” and a lengthy article inside the supplement by Peter Robinson The songs remain the same, dealing with the complexity of copying and plagiary.


The first time I noticed an obvious similarity between songs was not long after I’d seriously started to listen to music. Block Buster! by The Sweet (written by Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman) was released in January 1973 and I thought that the main riff was heavily derivative of David Bowie’s The Jean Genie, released a couple of months before in November 1972; with fairly good reason, It transpires that the Jean Genie riff has itself been compared to The Yardbirds’ cover of Bo Diddley’s I’m a Man.

The mixture of influences on progressive rock make it an ideal genre to scour for appropriation, though in its nascent form the influences were far less likely to be other rock bands than from the jazz and classical worlds. Rondo on the debut album by The Nice, The Thoughts of Emerlist Davjack was a reworking of Dave Brubeck’s Blue Rondo à la Turk but, according to Martyn Hanson in Hang on to a Dream – The Story of The Nice, Immediate Records boss Andrew Oldham somehow managed to credit the band with the composition, but never explained how. The main difference between the two pieces was Brubeck had composed the piece in 9/8 time but the Nice played it in 4/4 but when I first heard the Nice version in 1972 or 1973, it was instantly obvious that they had lifted, wholesale, Brubeck’s piece. According to Hanson, the band had never considered claiming composition responsibility. Whether through naivety or by design, Keith Emerson would go on to have further issues with the lack of credit for other composers when he started ELP.



Peter Robinson’s G2 article touches on the legal arguments used to define plagiarism and it seems likely that a plaintiff will lose their case if they themselves have borrowed from a source that is out of copyright. This means that Emerson didn’t have to credit JS Bach for The Three Fates (on the first ELP album) even though he’d previously name-checked Bach, and other composers, on various Nice albums. When I eventually got around to buying Passio Secundum Mattheum by progressivo italiano band Latte e Miele and listened to the track Il Calvario it sounded like a note-for-note rendition of Emerson’s Clotho, indicating the original source.



Surprisingly enough, the next instance where I detected what I thought was undue influence was listening to Relayer at 12’47” into The Gates of Delirium, at the moment the battle sequence commences to resolve. At this point Patrick Moraz plays a lead synthesizer line that I thought was straight out of a Beatles song book but, when put into context where there’s so much going on in the Yes song, it’s obviously not The Beatles. At the time I was becoming aware of the spread of influence of the Fab Four and it didn’t seem such a ridiculous notion.

Robert Fripp famously made an out-of-court settlement over a plagiarism dispute with the producers of soft-core porn film Emmanuelle for misappropriation of Larks’ Tongues in Aspic (part II). There are at least three short pieces of music credited to Pierre Bachelet and Herve Roy that occur in the film, which are remarkably close to Fripp’s instrumental piece. A more recent example of possible copying a King Crimson song is on Astra’s 2009 release The Weirding, where the title track comes close to quoting from Cirkus on Lizard. Of course this may be accidental, but it’s evident the band are inspired by early Crimson because apart from the use of doom-laden Mellotron there is a great deal of Sinfield-like imagery in the lyrics: ‘All the blind sight kills the white light / Fire blood raven screams / Spreading influence through waking dreams / The world spins out of tune / And there's nothing we can do...’ and again: ‘Blindly follow twisted tales / It seems forever without fail / Cat's paws mind their fairy stories dear’. Kanye obviously got around any potential problem by including the appropriate credits to his song Power, which sampled 21st Century Schizoid Man.



The distinction between copying and source of inspiration may appear to be a grey area but, as Robinson points out, you can apply maths to the problem. In this way, based on pitch, rhythmic placement and harmonic context, you can make a statistical judgement whether two pieces of music are similar. The chances of two songs, independently written and sharing an identical 39-note sequence backed by similar chords and with the same rhythmic accentuation is really remote; this was the case with Sheeran’s Photograph and Amazing by Matt Cardle. Inspiration is something entirely different. Marillion used to be labelled a Genesis-clone and though the original members will no doubt admit that their music was informed by Genesis, and (ex-) vocalist Fish used to apply grease paint and, to a lesser extent don costumes for his adopted persona in the manner of Peter Gabriel, the similarity remained superficial. I’m more interested in Fish’s lyrics because he’s spoken of Peter Hammill as being one of the musicians who influenced him. Hammill recorded Flight from A Black Box in 1980 which includes the lines: ‘The lines on the road trail the arrow in the sky/ I search for the mote in my brother’s eye’ and four years later Fish penned the words to IncubusYou played this scene before, you played this scene before / I the mote in your eye, I the mote in your eye’. These are the only two lyrical references to a mote in an eye that I can think of but that doesn’t mean that Fish has copied Hammill.


There appear to be more cases of alleged plagiarism going to court than ever before, something I think is a reflection on the current state of the music business. I genuinely find it difficult to distinguish between many of the songs played on daytime radio, and find it even harder to like any of them. The idea of the music star and celebrity means that a record company has to invest in protecting the image of artists and the sum of $20m (£16m) was obviously worth it to Warner to ensure that Sheeran’s reputation and artistic integrity wasn’t too badly affected by alleged copying – unless the money came out of his own pocket. Such ridiculous sums of money spawn a culture of claims and that can’t be good for music, as money is diverted into the legal aspects of the industry rather than nurturing creativity. On the other hand, if it means we get less manufactured music, which stands more chance of accusations of copying, then that would be a great deal better.


There’s only one sure-fire way to avoid accusations of copying: cite your references.


Peter Robinson’s article appears here:

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/apr/13/has-pop-finally-run-out-of-tunes-ed-sheeran-plagiarism







By ProgBlog, Feb 21 2016 08:11PM

For the past fifteen or so years, my wife has spent February half-term in New York which is fine by me. I can listen to lots of music at home without resorting to headphones and, if I’m lucky, she might find a bit of original US prog to bring back home. I’ve been to NYC three times, most recently in 2003; I ski in Europe later on in the season in lieu of a transatlantic shopping trip. Up until my first visit in 1998, my expectations had been modulated by film, TV and bits and pieces of music. I was quite taken by the steam vents that I’d heard described by Peter Gabriel around the time of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974), a system of heating, cooling, cleaning and powering businesses in Manhattan. About half of the steam is cogenerated and using this as an energy source dramatically increases the efficiency of fuels.

The first time I visited the country was for the 16th American Society for Histocompatibility and Immunogenetics (ASHI) annual conference in Century City, Los Angeles, in 1990. My original contract with Guy’s Hospital allowed me one international conference per year and I chose this one for its potential to provide an insight into the cutting edge of transplantation science. I may have been swayed by the fact that the Hipgnosis cover for Yes’ Going for the One (1977) features Century City. This was not a good time for progressive rock bands, or prog in general and it pre-dated my seeking out local record stores to explore music by local artists, so I didn’t buy anything by US groups on that trip.


Century City
Century City

In fact, all my trips to the States to cities other than New York have been for symposia or workshops. I was in Dallas in 1995 for another ASHI conference and as prog was beginning to resurface, when the band playing at the gala dinner suggested they’d take requests, I asked them to play some King Crimson but they played some Talking Heads instead. Both LA and Dallas are huge conurbations and some of the things I had bookmarked to see in LA were impossible. I stayed in a Holiday Inn on Wilshire Boulevard and it took about an hour to walk to the conference venue but there were decent views across to the Hollywood Hills; My hotel reservation in Dallas, the venue for the ASHI meeting itself, was thrown into chaos by a mid-flight engine failure on my aircraft, resulting in an unscheduled overnight stop over at the Hilton in Boston. Perhaps I shouldn’t have wished too loudly for an end to the improvised fleadh on the plane as passengers, off to a traditional music festival somewhere, took out fiddles and pipes and began to play. TWA kindly flew me first class from Boston to St Louis early the next morning for a flight on to Dallas. Unfortunately my room had been given away and I had to stay in a different but possibly more glamorous hotel around the corner for one night. The walk between the two buildings would have taken less than two minutes as the crow flies but, being on a busy freeway intersection with no footpath, it took a little longer and I had to cope with drivers abusing me for daring to walk. Apparently it was dangerous, so when I attended the evening entertainment I stuck to the transport provided.


Grassy knoll, Dallas
Grassy knoll, Dallas

Seattle was a different prospect. Verdant, compact and interesting, I was there for the 2002 International Histocompatibility Workshop Conference. The meeting was held in the Washington State Convention Center [sic] and my accommodation was a brief walk away at the Kings Inn motel, where I felt pretty insecure because the room opened out from the ill-fitting steel door, my first experience of this kind of hotel. I didn’t manage to buy any music but I did spend time at the rather good Experience Music Project, a Frank Gehry-designed museum that had opened a couple of years earlier. Seattle has some high profile musician links such as Jimi Hendrix, Queensryche and Kurt Cobain but I was more interested in the Yes drummer Alan White connection; one of his kits was on display.


I’d picked up CDs in New York but these were by UK artists and were either far cheaper than I could have found at home or relatively obscure, for example Exiles (1997) by David Cross. The first US prog that I bought was Day for Night (1999) by Spock’s Beard when I was in Miami in 2003. I was in Miami twice that year, for a training course in April and presenting at the ASHI conference in October. The April trip was memorable because I left a laptop and some CDs in the boot of the taxi that dropped me off at my hotel in Coconut Grove, one of these being my signed copy of King Crimson’s The Nightwatch (1997) that I’d bought at the playback at the Intercontinental Hotel in London. On my return to the UK I emailed ET, the Crimson related forum and asked American contributors to look out for it. No one was sympathetic, some pointing out how stupid it was to carry original CDs around. Correct, but hardly helpful. Day for Night was bought on the autumn trip along with a copy of a cheap limited edition European version of The Ladder (1999) by Yes, in a slip case plus poster. I can’t remember the store but you could scan the barcode and listen to extracts of the music. I quite liked the analogue sounds of that particular Spock’s Beard album, which is why I bought it, rather than any other. I may have also been seduced by the Yes-like structure of the title track with its trebly bass and the Gentle Giant homage Gibberish. Though there’s a range of styles on display I get the feeling that the band has taken 80s Yes as a template with a deliberate attempt at being radio friendly.
I’d picked up CDs in New York but these were by UK artists and were either far cheaper than I could have found at home or relatively obscure, for example Exiles (1997) by David Cross. The first US prog that I bought was Day for Night (1999) by Spock’s Beard when I was in Miami in 2003. I was in Miami twice that year, for a training course in April and presenting at the ASHI conference in October. The April trip was memorable because I left a laptop and some CDs in the boot of the taxi that dropped me off at my hotel in Coconut Grove, one of these being my signed copy of King Crimson’s The Nightwatch (1997) that I’d bought at the playback at the Intercontinental Hotel in London. On my return to the UK I emailed ET, the Crimson related forum and asked American contributors to look out for it. No one was sympathetic, some pointing out how stupid it was to carry original CDs around. Correct, but hardly helpful. Day for Night was bought on the autumn trip along with a copy of a cheap limited edition European version of The Ladder (1999) by Yes, in a slip case plus poster. I can’t remember the store but you could scan the barcode and listen to extracts of the music. I quite liked the analogue sounds of that particular Spock’s Beard album, which is why I bought it, rather than any other. I may have also been seduced by the Yes-like structure of the title track with its trebly bass and the Gentle Giant homage Gibberish. Though there’s a range of styles on display I get the feeling that the band has taken 80s Yes as a template with a deliberate attempt at being radio friendly.

My first tastes of American rock music would have been on Alan Freeman’s radio show and one of Tony’s friends was quite heavily into the Doors. Tony had Mass in F Minor (1967), a concise psychedelic masterpiece by The Electric Prunes and we liked the early prog-era instrumental Zappa; I may have bought Hot Rats (1969) in New York. I was tuned into the United States of America by a chapter in Progressive Rock Reconsidered (2001, ed. Kevin Holm-Hudson), The “American Metaphysical Circus.” Influenced by avant garde rather than 19th Century European composers, their 1968 eponymous debut has a distinct West Coast sound but there are plenty of melody lines that could almost be pop, were it not for the underlying electronics and manipulations and hints of radical politics. Susan got me a copy from New York in 2009.

I read a review of The Weirding (2009) by Astra before buying it. Progressive rock had become truly respectable again and bands were happy to reference Pink Floyd and King Crimson. This offering is slightly spacey and there’s a lack of polish in the playing which gives it a kind of authenticity, aided by a decent production. It’s ok, but it doesn’t really challenge.

Last year I requested some recent releases by Glass Hammer, should Susan happen to be passing any suitable record shops. I’d got Journey of the Dunadan (1993) for Christmas 2013 even though I’d read that it wasn’t anywhere close to their best album, which contains some very nice keyboard work but displays a sort of naivety; attempting to cover The Lord of the Rings on a single, debut album was simply over-ambitious. I’m still waiting for more Glass Hammer! A year later I was given Finneus Gauge’s One Inch of the Fall (1999) which is on the progressive side of jazz rock, like an American UK. Laura Martin’s vocals are clear and distinctive and the musicianship can’t be faulted, with uniform high quality writing. I think I can detect some Canterbury influences but it doesn’t really sound like anyone else. There’s more guitar than keyboards, some of which is reminiscent of Allan Holdsworth.

Last year, in anticipation of a new deck, I bought Fireballet’s Night on Bald Mountain (1975) when I came across it by chance at a vinyl fair in Spittalfields Market. The stall holder had bought it new from East Side Music & Video in Toronto but didn’t know much about it. I’d just read about the album in Prog Rock FAQ by Will Romano and thought it looked an interesting proposition and, considering the efforts of other US bands during the golden era of prog, it proved to be way ahead of any of them. It may be derivative but the calibre of musicianship is high and it gets really good treatment from producer (ex-King Crimson) Ian McDonald; second track Centurion could be Trespass-era Genesis but album opener Les Cathèdrales utilises the uncredited Theme One by George Martin. This is the closest an American band would get to original prog.

Postscript: I had the first two Happy the Man CDs on my NY wish list. Didn’t get either!






By ProgBlog, May 5 2015 09:36PM

The bass playing and vocals of John Wetton were an integral part of the sound of the incarnation of King Crimson that convened in 1972. I first became aware of Wetton in 1974 listening to The Great Deceiver which was played by Alan Freeman when Starless and Bible Black was released and this was reinforced a few months later when Guy Wimble, one of the Infield Park Gang (IPG), bought the outstanding Red (1974) and brother Tony bought the ground-breaking Larks’ Tongues in Aspic (1973). I managed to find a copy of the powerful but elusive USA (1975) when I moved down to London as a student from the local record store near my hall of residence, Elpees in Bexley.

His move to Uriah Heep after the break-up of Crimson didn’t make us rush out and buy Return to Fantasy (1975) or High and Mighty (1976) even though Wimble owned copies of The Magician’s Birthday and Demons and Wizards but his later move to Wishbone Ash for Number the Brave (1981) did rouse some interest, enough to look at the record sleeve in the shops, anyway. I’d have thought that Wetton’s bass style was suited to the early Wishbone Ash style; I’d class Martin Turner alongside Wetton in terms of sound and technique but when I first went to see Wishbone Ash in 1979 at Keele University, they were plying mindless boogie, despite having produced No Smoke Without Fire the previous year, an album many considered to be a return to form because of its leaning towards prog with the two-part Way of the World, a track that strongly reminds me of The Pilgrim from 1971’s Pilgrimage. Never truly prog, the Ash did have a rather annoying habit of following good albums with poor efforts. I was never really interested in post-Siren Roxy Music.

I didn’t manage to get to see the original quartet version of UK but I did manage to see the pared-down Danger Money incarnation of the band for their only UK appearance before shooting off on tour to support Jethro Tull. My enthusiasm for this gig was tempered by the feeling that the band was under-rehearsed. A mix-up with dates meant that I didn’t get to see the last ever UK gig on UK soil but I did see them at the same venue, Under the Bridge, in May 2012. The eponymous debut album was brilliant, arriving just in time to show that progressive rock had a future but the departure of Bruford and Holdsworth changed the balance of the band and though the trio were eminently able to cope with complexity, they chose to head in a radio-friendly verse-chorus-verse-chorus direction. Despite this, there are some classic prog moments on Danger Money, especially the Jobson organ work which seems to have inspired Adam Holzman; the evocative Rendezvous 6:02, though understated, is one of my favourite Wetton tracks and his vocals would be the best they’d get on this album.

When you think of Wetton’s contribution to Jack-Knife’s I Wish You Would (1979) it’s possible to imagine him playing that kind of material because of his remarkable versatility but it was hardly challenging for the players or listeners and that was the reason I gave it away to a charity shop after buying a copy I came upon by chance in a small, obscure record shop in Tooting in the early 80s. I didn’t really know what to expect before I bought it, with cover versions of Sonny Boy Williamson’s Good Morning Little Schoolgirl and Eyesight to the Blind and a self-penned song called Mustang Momma yet somehow I was seduced by the inclusion of Richard Palmer-James in the line-up when the dreadful cover artwork should have been enough of a clue. Perhaps I was just being completist because I’d acquired the Jack-Knife album after finding Wetton’s first solo album, Caught in the Crossfire (1980) in a sale in WH Smith in Streatham. Despite a guest appearance by Martin Barre, Crossfire was quite removed from progressive rock; the track When Will You Realize? which is included here was apparently cited by Eddie Jobson as the song most responsible for the demise of UK. It’s slightly surprising that I never got rid of that, too.

I was originally looking forward to the first Asia album; Wetton was back with prog luminaries and the result could only be positive. I wasn’t aware that he was deliberately choosing to depart from the band members’ pasts and eschew long instrumentals in favour of short songs, an approach that I wasn’t going to enjoy. I dutifully bought the first three albums when they came out, Asia (1982), Alpha (1983) and Astra (1985), divesting the latter when I came across the part-compilation on CD Then and Now in 1990, disgruntled that Steve Howe appeared to have been ejected from the band after Alpha. Though I could have gone to see the reformed Asia at the High Voltage festival in 2010, I decided against it, preferring to spend my cash going to witness a reformed ELP who were headlining the next day.

Towards the end of the 90s I went to see John Wetton with his band on three occasions. The first was at the Astoria that used to stand in Charing Cross Road, in November 1996, where I didn’t really know what to expect. The material was a mixture of Crimson, UK, Asia and solo songs and I was impressed enough to buy Akustika – Live in Amerika (1996) from the merchandise stand. The support band turned out to be David Cross who was promoting his about-to-be-released Exiles (1997) which turned out to be uncompromising prog. Five months later I saw Wetton at Croydon’s Ashcroft Theatre and in September 1997 I saw him along with other members of the 72-74 King Crimson for the Night Watch playback at London’s Hotel Intercontinental where he performed a solo acoustic version of Book of Saturday. In November 1998 I saw him play in a room at the Pavilion, Bromley. His band evolved over these performances and I used Starless as a measure of their competence; guitarist Billy Liesgang wasn’t too impressive though drummer Tom Lang was good and these two were eventually replaced by Dave Kilminster and Steve Christey (ex-Jadis) respectively. Martin Orford was a constant and consistent presence on keyboards.

In 1998 I began subscribing to ARkANGEL, the official John Wetton ‘infomagazine’, a labour of love put together with a cheap word processing package by Gary Carter who doubled-up as merchandise stallholder; I submitted a review or an op-ed but it didn’t get printed even though it seemed like Carter was forever haranguing the readership for material. This still exists in email format and a link can be found on the official website http://johnwetton.com

It was through ARkANGEL that I discovered a host of Wetton solo material and added Battle Lines (1994), Chasing the Deer (1998), Arkangel (1998), Hazy Monet (1998), Live at the Sun Plaza Tokyo 1999 (2000) and Sinister (2001). The vast majority of this is well-produced AOR but there are some stand-out tracks like The Circle of St Giles and E-Scape and I enjoy all of Chasing the Deer. To complete my collection I invested in a copy of the authorised Wetton biography, My Own Time by Kim Dancha, which concludes in 1997.

Qango were a short-lived band that attempted to recreate the highs of prog. Alongside Wetton on bass and vocals were Carl Palmer on drums, John Young on keyboards and Dave Kilminster on guitar. I saw them play at the Ashcroft Theatre in Croydon, using material from Asia and ELP, plus Wetton favourite All Along the Watchtower. They released a live album (Live in the Hood, 2000) but sadly, plans for a studio album were abandoned


By ProgBlog, Jan 1 2015 08:13PM

It would be easy to do a prog retrospective of 2014; the festivals and other concerts, the important albums, other milestones... but I’m not going to because although I don’t mind looking at lists and comparing the thoughts of journalists (and their manipulation of source data, should they have asked for public opinion) with mine, I still regard it as lazy and relatively meritless.

On the face of it, compared to my birthday and previous Christmases, this Christmas was relatively prog-free. I did get Consorzio Acqua Potabile’s 40th anniversary edition of Il Teatro delle Ombre (The Shadow Theatre), a very nicely presented 4CD set that includes a 20th anniversary edition of ...Nei Gorghi del Tempo (In the Whirlpool of Time.) The music dates back to the 70s and I suppose it slots into a style that most closely resembles Banco del Mutuo Soccorso with the twin keyboards, though CAP are slightly less adventurous. There are multiple layers of instruments and strong vocals but I think the modern production may have taken something away from the compositions, despite the inclusion of vintage keyboards. The CD of live material, apart from the Banco-like titled Traccia Tre from 1979, ranges from the late 90s to 2011. I’d love to hear the music as it was presented in the early 70s. I also got Paper Charms, the complete BBC recordings of PFM. This 2CD+1 DVD set forms a kind of companion piece to the re-mastered, expanded Cook and captures the band at the height of their global fame. CD1, with introductions from Pete Drummond in clipped BBC tones, closely follows the track selection from the original Cook which had been released not too long before the appearance at the BBC Paris Theatre, London. The playing is exemplary and the mix is well balanced, though Drummond comes across as rather loud. There’s a fair degree of difference between the Cook version of Alta Loma 5 ‘till 9 [sic] and those on Paper Charms but the other material is similar. During one announcement, Drummond suggests that Four Holes in the Ground contains the influence of Greek music because it was the first song written by the band after half-French, half-Greek Patrick Djivas had joined the band from Area and I believe that he’s correct, even though Djivas does not get a song writing credit. The PFM box set, from my brother Richard, was accompanied by a Pink Floyd – The Wall pen which writes really neatly. My brother Andrew also got me some prog: Finneus Gauge’s One Inch of the Fall and (Bruford Levin Upper Extremities) BLUE Nights. The former had been on my wish list for a while because I’d read that the style was on the progressive side of jazz rock. I’m not a great fan of US prog (I own Day for Night by Spock’s Beard, Journey of the Dunadan by Glass Hammer and The Weirding by Astra and I’m not over impressed. I’ve also got Hot Rats which is excellent but I’m not sure that Zappa should be pigeonholed as prog. It may surprise you to find out that I’m also toying with the idea of trying out a Fireballet album.) I hadn’t picked up on the Echolyn – Finneus Gauge connection because I’ve not listened to any Echolyn but I think One Inch of the Fall is the best US prog album that I own. Laura Martin has a great, distinctive voice and the musicianship can’t be faulted. What makes it better than the other American prog is the uniform high quality of the writing; there really is no filler here and, though you can detect some Canterbury influences, it doesn’t sound like anyone else. This Canterbury influence is best exemplified by Scott McGill’s guitar work which, at times, is reminiscent of Allan Holdsworth. There’s a slight bias towards guitar (as opposed to keyboards) but that’s not a criticism. BLUE Nights, a live documentary of the Bruford Levin analogue of a King Crimson projecKt, takes the material from their studio album, which I like very much, and extends it into Crimson improvisational territory. The Chris Botti trumpet, along with Bruford’s precision drumming, puts the band in a modern jazz setting which is pulled towards progressive rock territory by David Torn’s guitar loops and effects. It’s clear that there’s a musical chemistry between the band members; they had previously appeared together on Torn’s Cloud About Mercury which covers roughly the same ground.

My main Christmas present wasn’t prog-related but it was conceptual. The now ritual pre-Christmas trip to Venice isn’t just about Rock Progressivo Italiano, it’s also about coffee. I’ve imported beans from Torrefazione Cannaregio in the past (www.torrefazionecannaergio.it) and stopping in the small shop for a morning espresso (€0.90) is an essential part of the Venetian itinerary. So, with the understanding that good coffee plays an increasingly important part of my life, Susan bought me a DeLonghi espresso machine and Daryl has provided a voucher for barista lessons. Awesome.

The one issue I have with BLUE Nights is that Tony Levin recounts in his BLUE Road Diary from the Japan Tour, April 5th: “There seem to be Starbucks in various parts of Tokyo, so decent espresso isn’t far away anywhere here.” I suppose that Starbucks tax avoidance might not have been such an issue in 1998 but it’s stretching a point to call their espresso decent! I attended the International Histocompatibility Workshop Conference in Seattle in May 2002 where the coffee was provided at no charge by Starbucks. Better coffee could be obtained outside the Washington State Convention Center [sic] at the Seattle Coffee Company (Seattle’s Best Coffee) which has apparently subsequently been subsumed by the mighty Starbucks. Having read Levin’s BLUE road diary, it’s interesting that the booklet that accompanies King Crimson's "57 Minutes Of Improvised Music" ThraKaTTaK CD contains a diagram for the ‘Crim Valet’, a portable espresso machine in a flight case with storage for cups, glasses and wine. This suggests that Levin is serious about his coffee and indeed, he used to have a page on his Papabear website called ‘Tony’s Coffee Corner’. The Crim Valet, aka Café Crim, did make it out on the road during a Crimson European tour around 1999 – 2000. Tony’s Coffee Corner also reveals that Levin owned a Gaggia which was sampled for inclusion on the track Espresso and the Bed of Nails from his World Diary album. Tony, whatever were you thinking? Starbucks, decent espresso?



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