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Still reflecting on the latest venture to the Italian Riviera, ProgBlog looks at the legacy of the port city of Savona: Delirium and Il Cerchio d'Oro who released the rather good Il Fuoco Sotto la Cenere in the autumn

By ProgBlog, Nov 5 2017 05:15PM

I’m off to Genova again next week, on a trip originally scheduled to see a progressive night organised by local label and record shop Black Widow at La Claque. This features Brescia’s Phoenix Again who will be highlighting their third album, Unexpected, released in May this year; local band Melting Clock who impressed me when I saw them at the Porto Antico Prog Fest in July and hope to produce their debut next year; and an acoustic set from the widely-respected Genovese group Ancient Veil who remarkably, considering their origin dates back to 1985 when Alessandro Serri and Edmondo Romano founded Eris Pluvia, playing progressive rock created from a blend of folk and Canterbury influences and released a single album Rings of Earthly Light in 1991. The band ceased to exist in 1992 but Serri and Romano, assisted by Fabio Serri, created the Ancient Veil project and put out a self-titled album, stylistically similar to Rings of Earthly Light, in 1995. The group lay dormant until early this year when they returned with a new album I Am Changing and, on May 12th 2017 performed live for the very first time – at Genova’s La Claque. I’ve now extended my annual leave and will be spending three more nights in the city; after three failed attempts to get to see PFM I’ve now got a ticket for their performance at the Teatro Carlo Felice, Genova’s 2000 seat neo-rationalist opera house on November 17th.


Architectural detail, Teatro Carlo Felice
Architectural detail, Teatro Carlo Felice

When I first started going to Italy with the intention of seeing a live band, I felt I had to buy a ticket beforehand. Navigating ticketing websites, even when there’s no version in English (unlike the sites for buying records), is generally straightforward but I’ve learned that reserving a ticket for the sort of band I like to see is neither strictly necessary nor necessarily advantageous, especially when your spoken Italian is as bad as mine and you have to rehearse what you say when you go to pick up the ticket. That’s the easy bit. It’s when staff respond, quite appropriately in their own language, that I have to resort to ‘parli inglese?’ It’s much less embarrassing when you stroll up to the ticket office and say ‘un biglietto per favore.’ Apart from a couple of nights at the recent Progressivamente 2017 festival in Rome which were crowded but entry was free, I’ve never had any worries about not getting in; on the last occasion which I reserved a ticket before travelling, the Event ’16 performance at the Teatro Altrove in Genova last October, a beautiful old theatre which could have seated somewhere between 100 and 200, the audience size was only just into double digits. However, I thought it was probably best to book for the PFM gig and I was right; there were only a few seats remaining with two weeks to go.



Not willing to miss out yet again after procrastinating in Venice in 1980, receiving a email telling me the Manticore birthday show was cancelled in 2011 and heading off to Peru during their UK tour last year, I was happy to pay €51 for a seat in the front stalls which, with the booking fee, worked out at £51 thanks to some safe hands on the economy and David Cameron’s attempt to avoid a major shift to the right as his UKIP-lite MPs threatened to split the Conservative party over Britain’s place in Europe...


The cancellation announcement  for PFM, 2011
The cancellation announcement for PFM, 2011

It’s not inappropriate to equate the Teatro Carlo Felice with the Barbican Hall or the Royal Festival Hall or the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester based on both function and their architectural interest. Though I can’t comment on the Bridgewater Hall, tickets for gigs at both the Barbican and the RFH are mostly very reasonably priced, with Camel at the Barbican in 2013 costing £25 for a balcony seat compared to the price of £37.50 for a first circle seat to see Genesis tribute band Musical Box at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire six months earlier; my Dweezil Zappa ticket for the performance at the Festival Hall last month, admittedly for a seat at the very back of the stalls, only cost £24.50.



Tickets for Genesis tribute band Musical Box
Tickets for Genesis tribute band Musical Box

My first London concert was Yes at the Wembley Arena in October 1978 when the (matinee) ticket cost me £4; a year later my ticket for jazz great Dave Brubeck playing at the Royal Festival Hall was also £4. Taking inflation into account, the £4 Yes ticket should have cost £14.95 in 2004, which was the last time I saw Yes at Wembley; it set me back £35. Southbank prices stuck a bit closer to the official inflation level and my £4 Dave Brubeck ticket would have cost a little over £19 today, though Dave Brubeck played in a quartet and Dweezil Zappa’s band was not only larger but was augmented by the Norwegian Wind Ensemble.


Yes ticket prices 1978 - 2016
Yes ticket prices 1978 - 2016

The presence of accompanying musicians obviously has an impact on ticket prices and the one Barbican concert where I was genuinely surprised at the charge for Keith Emerson in July 2015: £65 for what sadly turned out to be his final live appearance performing the Three Fates Project with the BBC Concert Orchestra. Both the Barbican Centre and the Southbank Centre receive grants from Arts Council England (though the arts has been an easy target for the government during their mad austerity drive and their share of the money has been slashed) and their importance as centres of culture attracts other funding streams, so I suspect that some of this money is used to subsidise ticket prices. The Van der Graaf Generator Royal Festival Hall reformation concert ticket from 2005 actually seems rather expensive at £30 though I’d describe this as one of the best gigs, if not the best, I’ve ever attended; the next two VdGG shows I went to see after David Jackson left and they were reduced to a trio, in 2007 and 2013, both at the Barbican, each cost £25 despite the six year interregnum.


The cost of going to see VdGG, 2005 - 2013
The cost of going to see VdGG, 2005 - 2013

It’s fortunate that I’m only interested in niche music, though the Steven Wilson tour following the dates in spring 2018 might present problems with ticket availability following the general success of To the Bone. Fans of acts like Adele and Beyonce will be aware of the difficulty getting hold of tickets at the marked price, but when tickets for Kate Bush’s 22-night run at the Hammersmith Apollo sold out in 15 minutes and a standing ticket for one of Radiohead’s three Roundhouse shows was allegedly on sale for £1200 through the secondary ticketing service Viagogo, perhaps the trouble-free days of access to prog shows will soon be over, too.

The problem appears to be with under-regulation of secondary ticketing sites (thanks, free-marketeers!) and according to a recent report in The Guardian, it’s putting the UK’s £4.5bn music industry, which supports around 142,000 jobs, under threat because fans’ cash is being diverted from their favourite acts into the pockets of touts who use methods of doubtful legality to acquire large numbers of tickets which can then be sold on to Viagogo, GetMeIn! and StubHub at mark-ups which on average nets them around 25% profit. A survey of gig-attendees found that two-thirds of respondents who had paid more than face value for a ticket on a resale site said they would attend fewer concerts in future, while half would spend less on recorded music.


It’s hardly a body blow to touting but my one experience of dealing with a character buying and selling tickets in the pedestrian subway leading out to (what was then) the Hammersmith Odeon did result in a financial loss for the tout. I’d won two tickets to see Genesis in September 1982 but couldn’t persuade anyone to accompany me. I sold the spare ticket, at the back of the stalls and with a face value of £7.50 for £10 and was entirely satisfied that no one claimed the seat.


Though there seem to be fewer examples of physical touting outside concerts (and sporting occasions) there is a massive secondary ticketing industry, said to be worth around £1bn, fuelled by the internet and based on the simple fact that demand for live music and sports events outstrips supply; this is where substantial sums of money are made by armchair touts who target the most popular events. I can’t imagine ever paying twice the face value of a ticket but that’s because I tend to stick to esoteric gigs and pay €15 to see three bands somewhere out in the suburbs of Milano, or perhaps splash out on a two-day festival ticket on the Italian Riviera... €35.










By ProgBlog, Jun 28 2017 08:50AM

There’s a great deal to be said for being open-minded, the willingness to try different things, because it’s a wide world and being able to see someone else’s point of view helps us to build bridges and overcome divisions in society. Past experience invariably influences present and future choices, for either good or bad, but forming impressions of the widest possible range of stimuli is most likely to be a positive force. Genetics obviously plays a role in how we react to events but the molecular mechanisms are nothing when compared to environmental impact: Jazz was the predominant musical form in the house I grew up in but after hearing Close to the Edge I quickly found friends who liked the same sort of music and whether or not I was still happy to listen to my father’s jazz recordings, being of an age where you could choose to buy whichever records you wanted was a crucial part of adolescence.



Practitioners of progressive rock, appropriating bits and pieces from a multitude of sources, should really be regarded as exemplars of open-mindedness and, in keeping with the lofty ideals of the late 60s and early 70s, they took it upon themselves to end the cultural hegemony of the upper and middle classes through popularising classical music by amalgamating it with rock and jazz and other idioms. Progressive rock wasideally placed to carry out this change as it was by-and-large looked upon as a movement promulgated by the middle class with exponents such as the Charterhouse alumni making up Genesis being an exception at one end of the social scale, and Jon Anderson from Lancashire mill town Accrington at the other end of the ladder. This emancipation of the romantic European musical form was in keeping with the countercultural zeitgeist and could be viewed as reaching out to disparate tribes by embracing differences.

I jumped from not being interested in rock music to being intrigued by Roxy Music to being a dedicated prog-head in just a couple of months. I carried on watching Top of the Pops and remained friends with school mates who liked Slade or T Rex but around the age of 13 or 14 and certainly by 15, most people were forming a distinction between pop and rock and leaving pop behind though there were musicians I had begun to admire who used the pop idiom for one reason or another; Robert Wyatt with I’m a Believer springs to mind... At the height of the golden era of progressive rock bands still eschewed singles but by 1976, following the hiatus in studio recording by a number of the big-league players, the music industry had become more hard-nosed and the labels required their acts to generate money by writing hit singles. Adjusting to produce something specifically for this market may have been tricky enough if you were used to taking ten minutes or more to get your ideas across to the listener but the difficulty was exacerbated by a far more sophisticated competition.



The announcement of the forthcoming Steven Wilson album To the Bone has been greeted with keen anticipation from fans. As much as I like Hand.Cannot.Erase I got into Wilson’s music via the rebooted 70s prog of The Raven that Refused to Sing, rather than the more narrow sound of Porcupine Tree. H.C.E strays from the original progressive rock blueprint and takes in electronica and post-rock and the result is another great record, but it’s not really prog. This is simply an observation and, in the overall scheme of things, it doesn’t matter but with videos available for three tracks from To the Bone, it can be seen as part of a trajectory towards what Wilson himself describes as ‘progressive pop’. While this refusal to stand still is in principle a good thing, the (give or take) five minute length of the previewed tracks doesn’t provide enough scope for development, although there is the promise of 9’20 of Detonation. From the examples available to the general public and from comments he’s posted on his website, it seems that the territory he’s now occupying is similar to that of more of the music he liked as a youth; Peter Gabriel’s So, Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, and Tears for Fears’ Seeds of Love, pop music which had a degree of depth. I’m a recent convert to Hounds of Love for The Ninth Wave suite which makes up the entire second side of the original LP though I’ve followed her career with interest since she first hit the airwaves with Wuthering Heights in 1978. Like Wilson, I also appreciate the Kate Bush – Peter Gabriel partnership probably best known for Don’t Give Up but which started six years earlier on No Self Control from Peter Gabriel III, a far more prog-sounding track; Bush and Gabriel also shared an interest in sonic innovation and were at the vanguard of the Fairlight CMI revolution. It could be argued that Gabriel’s solo output wasn’t really prog but it is undeniable that his method, if not all of his songs, conform to the overall prog scheme.


Wilson’s musical taste is suitably diverse, as indicated by his playlists and the two-song singles that were compiled for his 2014 album Cover Version; six original pieces paired with six cover versions of songs by Alanis Morissette, Abba, The Cure, Momus, Prince and Donovan (though The Unquiet Grave is a 15th Century folk song interpreted by Wilson.) He was even sporting an Abba T-shirt when I saw him on the second of the two Royal Albert Hall gigs in September 2015 though I can’t think of any redeeming features of Sweden’s number one musical export.



The nearest I get to a guilty musical pleasure is sharing record storage space with my wife’s Fleetwood Mac, Marvin Gaye, Meatloaf, Robert Palmer, Chris Rea, Simon and Garfunkel and Bruce Springsteen – she has her own CD storage - and though I often have to grit my teeth when I buy her music as a present, it’s somewhat unfair on her that she gets streams of prog-related recommendations. Fortunately, Susan occasionally finds something she likes which might fit into the ‘progressive pop’ category, such as Gotye’s Making Mirrors or S. Carey’s chamber-pop Range of Light.

There was a time when I owned Anita Ward’s 45 rpm single Ring My Bell and although it features early syndrum and I can still sing along with it, this was never intended as a serious purchase; after suggesting I was going to buy it, I had to go along with the joke but it did only cost 50p. I have a pristine copy of Bryan Ferry’s Boys and Girls (Our Price, £5.29) bought along with Sting’s Dream of the Blue Turtles which were released two days apart in June 1985, neither of which fits in particularly well with the rest of my collection though David Gilmour ad Tony Levin feature alongside Ferry and Sting quotes from Prokofiev on Russians. It’s interesting to note that the drums on both albums are performed by Omar Hakim which fits in very nicely with Sting’s jazz-lite and might have been responsible for some subliminal appreciation of Boys and Girls.



Another pop-rock album which sits between my Endless River and Storia di un Minuto LPs is Every Breath You Take: The Singles, part of my leaving present from my first workplace but which was sanctioned by me. I didn’t like the early Police material but two-thirds of the group had decent prog connections (Stewart Copeland – Curved Air; Andy Summers – Dantalian’s Chariot; Soft Machine; Robert Fripp) and the songs on later albums Ghost in the Machine and Synchronicity showed a high degree of sophistication. The first CD I bought was actually Nothing Like the Sun but Richer Sounds wasn’t really a place to buy recorded music – I just needed a CD to play on my newly acquired Yamaha CD player – and Sting was the least offensive artist available. I’ve still got it.



No one should have any guilt about the music in their collection. We buy and listen to the music we like, however broad or narrow our predilections. I applaud the broad-minded, but when it comes to music, my collection hardly encompasses anything other than progressive rock (in its myriad forms), jazz and a bit of classical; my taste is somewhat narrow.










By ProgBlog, Dec 18 2016 09:32PM

After the death of Greg Lake and a subsequent marathon session of listening to very early King Crimson and ELP albums I’ve not really had much opportunity to listen to music over the past week, my leisure time being taken up with two home games for Crystal Palace, a variety of reunions and a work Christmas party. Not being someone who rejoices in either the religious or commercial nature of Christmas, I find it a bit of a challenge when it comes to interacting with those that do get into the Christmas spirit. One of my gripes is the radio at work which is either tuned to a station broadcasting non-stop Christmas singles, other than Lake’s I Believe in Father Christmas which I wouldn’t actually mind hearing, or tuned into something with more edge playing more contemporary chart rubbish; another is the seasonal TV programming which invariably excludes me from being part of the stereotypical family and which becomes ever more tired each year; and another is the general encouragement to eat and drink too much.

The idea of a reunion is to catch up with old friends but it’s difficult to communicate effectively in a crowded pub where the televised sport competes with the piped music. Having said that, en route to the work Christmas meal, we stopped off at Turner’s Old Star in Wapping where the vanguard were able to drink, talk and play pool for over an hour with only a couple of locals in attendance. This turned out to be the calm before the storm as the meal was held at Tobacco Dock and we were a small group amongst around 1000 other revellers. The live band seemed very professional but they weren’t likely to play anything remotely interesting or challenging, unlike the entertainment at the gala dinner for an American Society for Histocompatibility and Immunogenetics (ASHI) annual conference in Dallas in 1995 where the band were unable to perform the King Crimson I requested but did play some Talking Heads as compensation. When I was a student I occasionally used to take a pair of cushioned over-ear headphones to discos (only if they were held at my hall of residence – I wouldn’t have wanted to lug them all over south London) which was done primarily to indicate my disapproval of the music but also to partially reduce the volume; putting in a pair of in-ear headphones at the Tobacco Dock party was rather pointless, such was the overwhelming din coming from the disco.


Turner's Old Star
Turner's Old Star

The little music I have managed to play for my personal pleasure in the past week includes King Crimson’s Red (1974). I’d seen a tweet about the album and made a mental note that it was something I should make a point of listening to again. Red was one of the Crimson LPs I’d sold to a second hand record store when I got a copy of the original issue of the CD, but that has been replaced with the mighty Road to Red box set. It was also one of the first Crimson albums I’d heard, a copy was owned by a friend from across the road in Infield Park in my youth. Along with the heavy prog of the title track and the soaring Starless which has gone on to inspire a host of other works with its killer melody line, Providence is a track which I found particularly inspiring; at the time of the album’s release I didn’t have a clue that this was a live improvisation, despite the rather truncated ending, but the structure formed the basis of a composition by my late school - early university group where, dependent on our rehearsal space, we would utilise found objects like bicycle wheels and door keys. I think Fallen Angel and One More Red Nightmare point the way to John Wetton’s future musical course but both are carried off with distinct aplomb and fit in with the feel of the entire album. The most recent version of Starless I’ve heard was by the David Cross Band at The Lexington earlier this year which rivalled the three drummers King Crimson version (Hackney Empire, September 8th 2015) in terms of excellence.


The Road to Red
The Road to Red

Next on my list was the debut self-titled album by Banco del Mutuo Soccorso (1972). Desperate to find some Banco, my first purchase was the sub-standard Donna Plautilla (released 1989) which I didn’t have on my list but it was the only Banco album available from a store in Treviso when I visited in 2005. Donna Plautilla is a compilation of pre-1972 material which doesn’t really fit the progressive Italiano tag, unlike the excellent first album. My current version of the album is a (2012) 40th anniversary 2CD edition where the second disc contains previously unreleased tracks Poilifonia, Tentazione and Padre Nostro and live versions of R.I.P, Metamorfosi and Traccia recorded in 2012.

The original album is one of the classics of the genre and, thanks to the vocals of Francesco Di Giacomo, truly operatic. I’d always associated the Banco sound with ELP because of the predominance of organ and piano, provided by the Nocenzi brothers Vittorio and Gianni respectively, but this time I was struck by the similarity to Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick, released in March 1972. There may not be very much flute on Banco del Mutuo Soccorso but the stop-start nature of the music, plus the organ/piano which also feature heavily in TAAB (one of the main reasons I really like that album) sound as though they could all have come from the same sessions. Tull were undoubtedly a major influence on the early Italian prog acts but it’s hard to imagine Banco having time to rearrange their material to sound more like Jethro Tull in the two months that elapsed between the availability of the two records.


Banco del Mutuo Soccorso 40th Anniversary edition
Banco del Mutuo Soccorso 40th Anniversary edition

Though I didn’t get much time to myself I did manage to squeeze in, over two days, the DVD of The Golden Compass (2007), the somewhat unsatisfying cinematic adaptation of Philip Pullman’s brilliant Northern Lights. I can’t work out if it was the characterisation which was off, despite thinking that Nicole Kidman might actually make a suitable Mrs Coulter, or if it was just Disneyfication, stripping away all the darkness and complexity of the novel. As with all fantasy books, the film version relied heavily on CGI, mostly successfully but sometimes less so. I found the stage version of the Pullman trilogy (His Dark Materials, an adaptation by Nicholas Wright) which had a couple of seasons at the National Theatre more in keeping with the original work despite the necessary condensing, with an ingenious depiction of the daemons. The arctic setting made it an appropriate season to watch the film but I hadn’t realised, until I was distracted and left the credits running, that Kate Bush sang her own composition Lyra at the end of the film. I must have been walking out of the cinema as this began playing and missed it but apparently it was a commission which utilises the Magdalen College choir, a nice Oxford-related fact, and it is a genuinely beautiful song.

My inability to enjoy Christmas is becoming hardened with every passing year but I see decorations and other Yule-related paraphernalia go on sale in October and, apart from a couple of recent Decembers when we had a healthy sprinkling of snow even in the south east, the country has been subjected to some record-breaking flooding. Isn’t it supposed to snow at Christmas? We all know about the chances for peace on earth... I may find it hard to find any decent music being broadcast at this time of year but it’s incomprehensible that a large proportion of the human race has an inability to even consider working together for the common good, whether it’s finding a meaningful accord on climate change, cancelling third-world debt, halting the civil war in Syria or ending violence against women.

Merry Christmas?









By ProgBlog, Aug 7 2016 10:01PM

Yesterday marked the anniversary of the first ever use of a nuclear weapon, one of only two times nuclear arms have been utilised in conflict when Little Boy (a reference to Franklin D Roosevelt who was president at the time of the inception of the Manhattan Project, the US atom bomb program) was dropped by the American B-29 Superfortress Enola Gay on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, chosen because it was one of the main supply depots for the Japanese army. The device was over 2,000 times more powerful than the largest bomb used up to that time and devastated an area of 13 km2, destroying over 60% of the buildings in the city and, at the time recorded as killing 118,661 civilians. Later estimates suggested the final death toll was up to 140,000 (from a population of 350,000 including military personnel and those who subsequently died from radiation.) Many would also suffer from long-term sickness and disability. Three days later, the US dropped a second, bigger atomic bomb, Fat Man (a reference to Winston Churchill) on Nagasaki. Nearly 74,000 were killed and a similar number injured and though this was a more powerful device, the geography of the region restricted the level of destruction to a little less than 7 km2. The Japanese were effectively left with no choice and surrendered to the Allies on 14 August 1945.

The threat of all-out nuclear war can only be exacerbated by the unwillingness of members of the nuclear club to dismantle their arsenals. I may have grown up in the town most associated with building the vessels that carry Britain’s ‘independent’ nuclear deterrent but ever since my school days when I became politically aware, I’ve believed in unilateral nuclear disarmament. A 2014 report from the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) listed nine nations possessing nuclear weapons In order of acquisition: the United States; Russia; United Kingdom; France; China; India; Pakistan; Israel; North Korea. They have approximately 16,300 weapons between them. All, apart from Israel, are known to have successfully detonated a nuclear device but it is the first five which are considered to be ‘nuclear-weapon states’ (NWS) under the terms of the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT) whilst India, Pakistan and North Korea obtained their weapons after the NPT; North Korea did become a signatory but withdrew in 2003. Israel maintains a policy of deliberate ambiguity regarding its atomic weapons program but is estimated to have approximately 80 nuclear warheads. South Africa developed nuclear weapons but disassembled its arsenal before joining the NPT. The SALT talks resulted in some decommissioning but while any weapons exist, there’s a potential to use them. The fall of communism has given way to a dangerous nationalism in Eastern Europe and the posturing by the North Korean oligarchy can only raise tensions. At least sense prevailed over the Iranian nuclear program, though the possibility of President Trump reversing the US/Iranian accord is rather worrying.

On the flip side there’s also the peaceful use of nuclear power, the creation of clean energy from Uranium or Plutonium, plus some pretty toxic waste that hangs around for a very, very, very long time. Also as a schoolboy, I doodled imaginary nuclear power stations and, as a sixth former studying physics, stood on top of the reactor at Sellafield during a site visit (when it was still called Windscale.) At that time tests were being carried out to vitrify the nuclear waste, which would have revolutionised storage of spent nuclear fuel. Sellafield was the site of the UK’s worst nuclear accident in 1957 when a fire broke out in a reactor chimney and the surrounding countryside was contaminated with radioactivity. Amazingly, the Infield Park Gang had access to a long wheelbase Land Rover, driven by the father of a neighbour, which dropped us off at local beaches for a day during the summer holidays. Roan Head was a favourite destination, largely because of the extensive sand dune system and though we were aware of the presence of effluent in the water it didn’t stop us swimming, joking that the presence of radioactivity in the Irish Sea was sufficient to neutralise any number of bacteria.


Roan Head
Roan Head

Last week the UK government continued to procrastinate over the construction of Hinkley Point C which has been dogged by a string of controversies, not least of which is the untested design. Without heading down the nuclear waste debate, I’m equally concerned about the requirement for Chinese money and the unit price of electricity negotiated with the French company EDF who will be running the plant which almost everyone agrees is a poor deal for consumers. However, neither the delay in making a decision nor the government’s energy policy of supporting fracking and removing subsidies on renewable generation, surprises me in the least.

I can’t think of any prog albums that are about nuclear power though Steve Rothery’s haunting, atmospheric and melodic The Ghosts of Pripyat (2015) deals with a post-Chernobyl landscape. His main band Marillion released Radiation in 2008 but the reference there, in the song Under the Sun, a track that sounds more like indie rock with some good organ bursts, is global warming. The best song on that album is the lengthy A Few Words for the Dead which features a more experimental sound and approach, coming across more thought provoking with both eastern and middle-eastern sounds before an anthemic section just after half way through the song preceding a decent guitar solo. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark may not be prog but their anti-war song Enola Gay (from Organisation, 1980) is an undisputed classic. It cites three references to the Hiroshima attack, Enola Gay (the aeroplane), Little Boy and the time of the bomb drop, 08:15:

“It's eight fifteen

And that's the time that it's always been

We got your message on the radio

Conditions normal and you're coming home

Enola Gay

Is mother proud of little boy today”

An OMD precursor band, The Id, according to OMD founder Andy McCluskey, was a “bunch of teenagers playing art-school rock that was on the proggy side. We had a brief flirtation with Yes and Pink Floyd.” Former Gong bassist Mike Howlett produced Messages, Enola Gay and Souvenir for OMD after Dindisc boss Carol Wilson insisted they have an outside producer for their third single, the first two having not done very well and sounding somewhat thin. Howlett was Wilson’s boyfriend.


Roger Waters was born into a family with strong left-wing views and his mother was a involved with CND. Two Suns in the Sunset from the last Waters-era Floyd albums The Final Cut (1983), released at the height of the cold war this track spells out the end of the human race in nuclear annihilation, the final track of his final cut with the band, the ultimate anti-war album. A lighter anti-nuclear arms song was released by Waters’ erstwhile colleague David Gilmour on his second solo album About Face (1984). The track Cruise refers to American Cruise missiles which were based at RAF Greenham Common in Berkshire, arriving in November 1983. There are two versions of the chorus but the first includes the line “Saving our children, saving our land” which reflects the women-only nature of the peace camp at Greenham, an important facet because the women were using their identity as mothers to legitimise the protest against the nuclear missiles for the safety of their children and future generations. Meanwhile, Gilmour protégé Kate Bush was also singing about the aftermath of nuclear conflict with the single Breathing which would appear as a more lengthy version on Never for Ever (1980.) This track has a further Floydian link, as the spoken words, taken from Protect and Survive, the hopelessly ineffectual official government instruction booklet for civilians in the event of a nuclear strike, “How to make your home and your family as safe as possible” are recited by Roy Harper. I love this track; the video was pretty epic but the brilliant fretless bass, provided by John Giblin, gives me goose bumps. On a non-progressive rock aside, Sting’s first solo album The Dream of the Blue Turtles (1985) features Russians and whereas the album is predominantly soft-jazz, Russians borrows from Prokofiev and addresses the cold war standoff, using clever lyrical references to the atomic bomb.



It may not be the longest track on the eponymous Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman, Howe album (1989) and to an extent it’s a bit of an oddity, but Birthright is not just a great sounding song with some beautiful Steve Howe guitar, it evokes vast, barely populated areas of Australia and captures the huge disservice to the Aboriginal people when the British government tested its first atomic weapon in Woomera, in 1954. The test was Britain flexing its muscle in an era when the British Empire was crumbling. This loss of global influence has continued and though there are a number of successful global British brands, our European referendum earlier this summer reflects a desire by 52% of the population to go back to the glory days of Empire. I’m only surprised by so-called progressives who want to retain nuclear weapons. They’re ridiculously expensive, they’re not independent and their deterrent value only increases when you’re willing to have the blood of millions of innocent people on your hands. Nuclear weapons? No thank you.







By ProgBlog, Aug 5 2015 09:10PM

The skies over Croydon last Friday night (31/7/15) were cloud-free and, despite the light pollution from the streets, the ‘blue moon’ was really clear. I’m something of a fan of astronomy and as a youth members of the Infield Park Gang (IPG) would venture off to watch meteor showers from the vantage point of a local school playground, lying down so that the town’s sodium streetlights were obscured by the surrounding trees, or heading off to the ruins of nearby Furness Abbey, nestled in the Vale of the Deadly Nightshade where the night skies were so dark it could be quite hazardous walking up Manor Road in the direction of Yarlside; we used to frequent The New Commercial in Newton (now The Village Inn) at the top end of the derelict iron ore mine workings, a free house where the beer was excellent and the juke box contained a reasonable selection of prog and prog-lite, possibly where I first heard Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush.

The term ‘blue moon’ is a bit of a misnomer and a bit confusing. The moon reflects the sun and appears yellow-white as normal but the name, which had been documented well over 100 years before the popular definition ascribed by amateur astronomer James Hugh Pruett in 1946 was simplified to indicate the second full moon in a calendar month. The lunar cycle of 29.5 days means that Pruett’s blue moons occur seven times every 19 years; the original name derives from the Native American Algonquin, who gave names to all full moons throughout the year and introduced the Blue Moon, the fourth full moon in a single season, as a way of maintaining their lunar-calendar month alignment. So is an event described as ‘once in a blue moon’ rare? With an occurrence of once every 2.7 years they are certainly infrequent...

The moon is highly symbolic with multiple meanings and interpretations, primarily based on observations of its regular cycle; the brightness of the full moon waning to complete darkness at the new moon and waxing again to the full moon. At a very basic level the constant regular appearance, growth and subsequent disappearance can be interpreted as a symbol of life, death and rebirth. The reflectivity of the moon – the albedo (as in Albedo 0.39 by Vangelis, the reflectivity of the earth in 1976 when the album was released) – averages at 0.12 due to the changes of brightness linked to different lunar phases and gives rise to the notion of the moon as a mirror that reflects the mystery and fear within our souls.

The common association of the moon with femininity comes about because lunar cycles were thought to mirror the life of a woman, a representative of the Triple Goddess; her three incarnations of maiden, mother, and crone were matched with the lunar phases of new, full, and old so that the complete triad of goddesses is symbolised in the changing face of the moon. Another reason that the changing moon is particularly associated with women is because the regular lunar cycle closely matches the menstrual cycle. The English word month is derived from the Anglo-Saxon monath, from mona, the moon; menses is from the Latin mensis, meaning month. This once more brings to mind Kate Bush who not only injected literacy into the pop world but featured a song about menstruation, Strange Phenomena, on her debut album The Kick Inside (1978). The space rock of early Gong, most notably Camembert Electrique (1971) which features the so-called space whisper of Gilli Smyth strikes me as feminine, if we’re allowed to attach gender to music, an opinion possibly influenced by the inclusion of the track Selene - the Greek goddess of the moon; also, the influence of Gong on Steve Hillage, even after he’d left the band in December 1975 along with girlfriend Miquette Giraudy, may have been partially responsible for Lunar Musick Suite (from L, 1976.)

With the plethora of possible interpretations, the moon makes a number of appearances in the prog canon, from the straightforward interpretation of the moon landings on Brian Eno’s Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks (1983), a documentary film that was originally shown without narration, simply featuring footage of the Apollo space missions with Eno’s predominantly dark ambient soundtrack, to the moon as a symbol of reflected self in Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon where every day pressures can lead to madness. Eno has indicated his album is intended to be an exploration of space travel, not some kind of adventure film soundtrack and I think the moods he successfully creates somehow tap into the idea of expanding the human experience, something that has acted as an inspiration for some of my own ambient music (Lunar Surface Magnetic Anomalies, 2013.)

Camel’s Moonmadness (1976) might not seem to be a conceptual piece of work on first hearing, certainly not in the Dark Side mould, but moon references recur throughout the album. The short first track Aristillus is named after a prominent lunar impact crater that lies in the eastern Mare Imbrium and features drummer Andy Ward reciting the names ‘Aristillus’ and ‘Autolycus’, the latter being a slightly smaller crater due south of Aristillus. The obvious moon reference is the track Lunar Sea (hence Moonmadness) which is one of my favourite instrumental tracks of all time. The alternating guitar and keyboard leads are understated and beautifully melodic, giving the track a great balance; the Moog tones evoke the ebb and flow of a cosmic ocean and Ward’s drumming is neat and crisp while Doug Ferguson’s bass bounces and bubbles. Even the heavy Another Night gets in a lunar reference: “Dark Clouds before my eyes / Can’t face the morning skies / Day comes a day too soon / I’m waiting for that silver moon” but Camel had set out to avoid a concept album in the style of Snow Goose after pressure from their record companies; if Moonmadness has a loose concept it’s that four of the tracks are said to represent the members of the band: Chord Change is Pete Bardens; Another Night is Doug Ferguson; Air Born is Andy Latimer; and Lunar Sea is Andy Ward.

Another moon link is on Mad Man Moon from Genesis’ A Trick of the Tail (1976) though I don’t think it’s really about madness or the moon, just an obsession with what others have: envy. I’ve racked my brains trying to find some link between the lyrics and the title of the song, other than in the line of the chorus, but Tony Banks sticks pretty much to drought/flood imagery. I recall Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet Act 2 scene 2: “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon” but, despite the allusion to lost love, I suspect I’m way off the mark.

The moon represents mystery but the moon landings, coinciding with the rise of progressive rock, may have resolved some of the unknowns. This has encouraged prog to delve deeper into the cosmos.



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