ProgBlog

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The possibilities afforded to composers since the birth of electronic instruments together with a willingness to explore different fields ensured that formal music progressed. The appropriation of classical music forms by rock musicians from the late 60s onwards marked the birth of progressive rock.

David Bedford was equally at home in both camps, at the forefront of a movement ensuring that all forms of music could be appreciated by everyone and anyone

By ProgBlog, May 22 2018 06:20PM



With an ever expanding selection of progressivo Italiano on vinyl and CD (vinyl, either new or second hand being my preferred choice) and a library of Prog Italia magazines plus a set of Italian texts on progressive rock, I seem to have found my niche obsessive compulsive disorder. The listening and reading material is sourced on the family trips to Italy, which means I’ve also amassed a substantial digital image collection taken at all the stops I’ve ever made around the country; the Trenitalia app is one of the most used apps I have on my phone. It gets worse: I’ve even imported coffee beans from a small artisan roaster in Venice, Torrefaziano Cannaregio, which I’d recommend to any coffee drinker who finds themselves in the city. Perhaps I’m subconsciously working towards citizenship for when the UK plunges out of the EU...



I was aware of a ‘Little Venice’ region of London, so-called because it’s centred on the conjunction of the Grand Union and Regent’s canals, having started a year-long post-graduate course in Biomedical Sciences immediately after commencing work at the South London Blood Transfusion Centre. One day each week I’d travel from Streatham up through central London, by bicycle in good weather, to Paddington College, an establishment close to the canals and waterways of Little Venice that taught the mysteries of hospital laboratory science. However, it wasn’t until very recently that I discovered London’s Little Italy, on a family outing to the Postal Museum, recently shortlisted for the Art Fund Museum of the Year award – the museum opened the former Mail Rail 610mm narrow gauge railway system to the public last summer.

Desperate for a decent coffee on a cold Easter Sunday, by chance we came upon Terroni of Clerkenwell, which turned out to be the oldest Italian delicatessen in England, not just London, having been established by Luigi Terroni in 1878. Before the influx of (mostly) southern Italians the area bounded by Clerkenwell Road, Farringdon Road and Rosebery Avenue was known as Saffron Hill but subsequently became Italian Hill or the Italian Quarter, before Italians from the north of the country migrated to England and settled in Soho. Terroni’s was busy but we were still able to get a seat at a table, then shortly after our coffees and selection of cannoli had arrived, a huge queue formed at the counter as families poured out of the church next door, the grade II* listed St Peter of all Nations - conceived in 1845 by St Vincent Pallotti, designed by Irish architect Sir John Miller-Bryson modelled on the Basilica of San Crisogonoin in the Trastevere district of Rome, and consecrated in 1863.


Little Italy was transplanted to Islington last week, as Italy’s best-known progressive rock export checked in to play one night at the O2 Academy. It was suggested by Peter Sinfield, who provided the first English lyrics for the band and produced Photos of Ghosts (1973), that non-native Italians wouldn’t understand the group’s name Premiata Forneria Marconi (the first-class Marconi bakery, where the band rehearsed) and that they should call themselves PFM. Drummer Franz di Cioccio explained to Will Romano (in Mountains Come Out of the Sky, Backbeat Books, 2010) that this didn’t really work out at the time because the band members became a bit tired of everyone asking what the initials P.F.M. stood for! It’s interesting that the band name on releases after their signing to Manticore/Asylum Records are a bit schizophrenic: the cover of Photos of Ghosts includes both the full name on the front and the acronym in the form of a recognisable logo on the back but both 1974’s L’Isola di Niente and English version The World Became the World use the band’s full name; Live in U.S.A. (Italian release) uses only the band’s full name whereas Cook (UK/US release) uses PFM; the Italian version of Chocolate Kings (1975) has a large ‘PFM’ at the top and ‘Premiata Forneria Marconi’ in small font at the bottom of the front cover but the chocolate bar pop art of the UK/US release only uses PFM; my Manticore printed Jet Lag LP uses PFM but my Italian CD (on Sony) with its subtly different paper aeroplane cover, has PFM and includes the full name in small text. Even the releases from 2013’s In Classic onwards vary in their use of their full title; this was the first album to feature a consistent logo, utilised through the ‘re-imagined’ albums up to and including last year’s Emotional Tattoos.


I finally managed to get to see them at Teatro Carlo Felice in Genoa last year and was really pleased that the set was primarily comprised of early material. They’ve been touring ever since and added two UK dates to their itinerary; the London show, and one in Southampton. I’d never been to the O2 Academy Islington before, in any of its former guises, but it’s easily accessed from Angel tube station and there’s a pub selling decent beer and food just over the road, The York. On arrival in the hall, a standing-only venue, the first thing to strike you was the noise from the air conditioning unit, so that when Andy Tillison appeared for his solo support slot, from my position the machinery could be heard above his keyboard and vocals. Though I’ve been following prog for over 45 years and Tillison has been playing prog for around 40 years, I’ve not knowingly come across the music of Parallel or 90 Degrees or The Tangent, though I’ve seen articles about the man himself and The Tangent in Prog magazine. Three of the four songs he played, The Music that Died Alone (a Tangent song from their debut album of the same name in 2003), Blues for Lear (from The Time Capsule by Parallel or 90 Degrees, 1998) and the debut performance of Sanctuary in Music, were primarily blues-jazz but the other song was a very interesting instrumental along the lines of early Tangerine Dream. He didn’t provide us with the title of this piece, explaining that it meant ‘progressive rock’ in German, as though his pronunciation would upset the guests from his German record label. He’s not got a bad voice and his keyboard playing was quite impressive, but what came across most of all was that his heart is in the right place; Sanctuary in Music reflected on religious fanaticism and the prohibition of music. The other nice bit of between-song banter was a tale of buying PFM’s Per un Amico from a record store in Florence when he was 13 or 14 years old, asking for some progressive rock and being told it was the only kind of music they sold! It was quite evident he was really honoured to be the opening act for the Italians.




It’s hardly surprising, this being a continuation of the Emotional Tattoos tour, that the set list was very similar to that I’d seen in Genoa. They began with Il Regno, the opening track from Emotional Tattoos (in Italian) and then performed a string of early classics: Four Holes in the Ground (from The World Became the World); Photos of Ghosts; Il Banchetto (from Per un Amico but which also appears on Photos of Ghosts), then four of the iconic tracks from their debut album Storia di un Minuto (1972): Dove... Quando... part 1 and part 2; La Carrozza di Hans; and Impressioni di Settembre. They returned to Emotional Tattoos with a song that kind of linked to Tillison’s Sanctuary in Music, La Danza degli Specchi and followed that with the instrumental Freedom Square, a song that harks back to the classic period of the band in the mid 70s.

This is where this concert deviated from the material performed on the Italian leg of the tour. There had been an intermission at this point in Genoa, restarting with Quartiere Generale and the little-known in the UK Maestro della Voce from the 1980 album Suonare Suonare; Islington was treated to Promenade the Puzzle (from Photos of Ghosts) and, from an album unrepresented in Genoa, Harlequin from Chocolate Kings. I think the UK got the best deal!

Though Franz Di Cioccio, the only remaining original member of the band, is indisputably the leader of PFM, Patrick Djivas is a long-term member and is put on equal footing to Di Cioccio. It fell to Djivas to point out the importance of classical composers to PFM music and joked that though they didn’t have an orchestra on stage they were still able to play Romeo e Giulietta: Danza dei Cavalieri which had been covered on their 2013 PFM: In Classic album. This neatly set the stage for Mr. Nine Till Five appended with Five Till Nine including their crowd-pleasing interpretation of Rossini’s William Tell Overture. It was no surprise that the encore was Celebration (from Photos of Ghosts) which included a playful drum duel between Di Cioccio and Roberto Gualdi.


One of the other differences from last November’s gig was that Di Cioccio spent more time behind his drum kit and left most of the vocals from early PFM material to Alberto Bravin, though when he did sing he displayed the same level of energy as he had done last year. I was a bit surprised to find the sound at the O2 better balanced than at Carlo Felice with its impeccable acoustics; Alessandro Scaglione’s keyboards were nice and distinct and utilised some authentic-sounding patches and you could hear how good Marco Sfogli’s technique was as you watched his fretwork. The only technical hitch was during Il Regno when Lucio Fabbri couldn’t get his violin amplification to work but one of the roadies eventually did something to an effects pedal and everything was OK for the rest of the performance.


This was probably the gig of the year so far for me, and I enjoyed it more than the Teatro Carlo Felice show. The standing audience and the ability to get close to the stage helped the atmosphere – the boarded-over orchestra pit in Genoa made the septet seem quite far away, even when Di Cioccio ran around in the empty space – but the London set list was better suited to a UK audience and the playing was out of this world. During the show it dawned on me that La Carrozza di Hans strongly reflects the original PFM influences, with fast stop-start breaks reminiscent of 21st Century Schizoid Man, a track they used to play at the beginning of their career, and that the old material was full of counterpoint which is less evident on Emotional Tattoos.


It was good to see a number of Italians in the audience (far more than there were Brits in Genoa!) and with the entire venue filled with appreciation for the band and their music, a small corner of Islington was turned into Little Italy for one night.




Grazie London! Grazie PFM!
Grazie London! Grazie PFM!

(Photo from the Offical PFM Facebook page)



By ProgBlog, Mar 6 2018 03:20PM

The Instagram and Twitter trend ‘9 albums that changed my life/mean most to me’ (#9albums) that appeared in January didn’t pass me by but its appearance on various social media platforms made me somewhat wary; as a piece of social investigation it’s an interesting topic but when internet monopolies get involved it becomes a little more sinister. I can’t be the only person in the world to get annoyed by adverts, including smart adverts, driven by clicks on Google, Facebook and Amazon. I want to make my own choices and, just because a large proportion of Yes fans might like Rush, it doesn’t mean that I do, or want to. Put another way, I’m not a lemming or a sheep and I know what I like (in my wardrobe). Why nine albums? Is it because it forms a neat 3x3 square for an Instagram photo or does the Instagram generation have an average of nine significant events in their lives? How should we define significant?


There were appearances of this question in January 2016 and 2017 but there’s evidence that the trend goes back to at least 2013. I suggest that it fits in with the New Year resolution phenomenon; a reflection on your life but one that doesn’t necessarily require any form of reappraisal or change. It’s all part of the challenge!

There don't appear to be any specific rules so I’ve arranged my nine choices chronologically by date of impact on my life. I got into prog fairly early so the chronology also fits roughly, but not exactly with the release date of the albums.


These are my personal choices:



Close to the Edge (1972) – Yes

It wouldn’t be fair to include the debut Roxy Music album, released three months prior to Close to the Edge, although Roxy were the first band to pique my interest in rock music when they appeared on BBC TV’s Top of the Pops playing Virginia Plain, because I only ever heard that single from the album. In September 1972 Close to the Edge was unlike anything I’d ever heard before and remains, in my opinion, the definitive progressive rock album and as close to musical perfection as you can get. It’s the reason I got into prog.



The Dark Side of the Moon (1973) – Pink Floyd

Likely to appear in a large number of the lists compiled across the world but this was the first new Floyd album to appear after I’d set out down the road of progressive rock. Before its release I’d borrowed a couple of bootlegs from a school friend and bought Relics but this seemed like a massive leap forward. I was hooked by the whole package; not just the music and the way the whole album linked together but the stickers and posters and the prism and pyramid imagery (I studied physics at school.) I was even impressed by Roger Waters’ lyrics which came in for some criticism in the music press.



Focus 3 (1972) – Focus

I was given a small transistor radio as a present for Christmas 1972 and one of the things that always seemed to be on Radio Luxemburg around 10pm was Sylvia, released as a single by Focus in January 1973. Focus 3 was circulated amongst friends of my brother and I was struck by the flute and what I felt was a distinct branch of highly melodic prog, to which I’d later add Camel and Steve Hackett’s earlier solo works.



Birds of Fire (1973) – Mahavishnu Orchestra

Jazz was the predominate musical form in our household even after my brother and I began to buy our own records, so the fusion of jazz and rock was something quite easy to get into, having been introduced on rock radio. The fluency and attack of the guitar, drumming like I’d never heard before and the interplay between guitar, keyboards and violin was just amazing; I bought the album in 1975 and it became key to opening up the extraordinary world of jazz rock where melody was sometimes sacrificed for proficiency: Isotope, Brand X, Weather Report, Return to Forever and even mid-70s Soft Machine.




Starless and Bible Black (1974) – King Crimson

This was the first Crimson album in our household and I still regard it as a mixed bag which goes relatively unnoticed between the groundbreaking Larks’ Tongues in Aspic and the influential Red. I find the first side of the original LP slightly unfulfilling despite the strength of Lament and The Night Watch; side two is brilliant and demonstrates the power of the group and a sublime mastery of tension and release. This obviously kick-started a life-long fascination with King Crimson but the cover inspired me to seek out Tom Phillips’ work at the Tate when I first arrived in London and more than that, I became such a great fan of John Wetton’s bass playing that I bought myself a bass guitar on my 18th birthday.



Rubycon (1975) – Tangerine Dream

This was my introduction to electronica. One of my rules for discovering and enjoying new music was the presence of keyboards, so Tangerine Dream had something of an advantage! I bought Rubycon shortly after its release having heard and been intrigued by Phaedra in 1974 and sold on the suggestion that they were influenced by Pink Floyd. I loved the single composition format over the two sides of the LP (Rubycon part 1, Rubycon part 2) which seemed to be a Virgin Records thing, but it was the amorphous other-worldly nature of the music, transporting you somewhere alien but largely benevolent which most attracted. I still maintain it’s the best record to listen to through headphones in the dark.



Cook (1974) – Premiata Forneria Marconi

Cook has probably had the most profound effect on my life after Close to the Edge and is responsible for my appreciation of Rock Progressivo Italiano. I can’t remember exactly how PFM came across our radar but I must have seen their performance on The Old Grey Whistle Test and Alan Freeman must have played them on his Saturday afternoon radio show. Cook was the first of their records that I bought but we were also listening to Photos of Ghosts, Chocolate Kings and Jet Lag, blown away by the musicianship and intrigued by the Italian take on prog.




UK (1978) – UK

As brilliant as this album is, it’s disappointing because it marks the end of the first era of progressive rock. At the time it seemed like it marked a new beginning, a strong album with excellent tunes and great playing and incorporating, through Allan Holdsworth and Bill Bruford, a jazz rock sensibility. Following the demise of King Crimson, it seemed like the formidable rhythm section which drove Crimson from 1973 – 1974 had, after some wandering that added to their musical educational, found an ideal home. Of the other ostensibly prog releases that followed, only National Health produced music of a quality that could match anything from the golden age of progressive rock. Genesis were down to three members and consciously going pop; Camel, directed by their record company, had given up on epics; Yes seemed bereft of a coherent concept and put out the patchy Tormato, where poly-Moog drenches everything apart from flanged bass, and ELP produced Love Beach.


Lux Ade (2006) – La Maschera di Cera

By 2005 I had begun to fully appreciate the breadth of output from Italian prog bands operating during the golden period of progressive rock, despite rarely featuring in the UK music press at that time. 2005 was the first year of an almost unbroken series of annual pilgrimages to Italy and the first where I consciously sought out record stores in an attempt to build up a collection of classic Italian prog. Fast forward to 2008 and it was only by chance that I came across a copy of Lux Ade in Beano’s second hand record store in Croydon and, tempted by the obvious 70’s keyboard set up, production courtesy of PFM’s Franz di Cioccio, plus the fact I had a 50% discount as a ‘member’ of Beano’s, that I handed over £5 to complete the best ever speculative buy I’ve ever made. This CD opened up the Italian progressive rock scene that re-emerged in the mid 90s to me and, in a parallel to hearing Close to the Edge, the first rock album I’d ever listened to, I think that Lux Ade is the best of the current wave of Rock Progressivo Italiano albums.



I found it relatively easy to come up with the bands that made up my nine but I originally chose Moving Waves instead of Focus 3 and Red instead of Starless. I seem to recall hearing The Inner Mounting Flame before Birds of Fire, but I didn’t own the first Mahavishnu album for some time and I actually most like Between Nothingness and Eternity (which I also bought in 1975.) It seems a shame to miss out some of my favourite albums but that’s not the point of the exercise; I tried to choose titles which had the most meaning and my taste tended to expand organically, with an appreciation for The Nice opening up ELP and then Refugee. It’s not unfair to say that my predilection for music hasn’t really changed at all in the 35 years I’ve been buying records, and that includes life-affirmative events like getting married and becoming a father. My wife went through the exercise and almost instantly came up with a fairly eclectic mix that seems to have more to do with life events than mine but also reflects a constant evolution, partly spurred by the discovery of music through Shazam: Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits, Let’s Get it On by Marvin Gaye, Bat out of Hell by Meat Loaf, Vienna by Ultravox, Private Eyes by Hall and Oates, Dare by The Human League, Chris Rea’s self-titled fourth album, True by Spandau Ballet and ending up with Truth Came Running, the first album by Australian singer-songwriter Mark Wilkinson, bought from the man himself as he was busking in Sydney in 2012.


I thought it might be interesting to ask a group of close friends and relatives, all with an interest in prog that was nurtured in the golden age, to come up with their nine albums. I grew up with almost all of them and most are regular gig companions; there’s no evidence that they’ve taken part in the challenge before and I didn’t stipulate that they must choose progressive rock releases. This is certainly not hard science but I thought it would be interesting to note their route into music and any divergence from core prog. Their responses, and an attempt at some analysis, will be published in the next blog...



By ProgBlog, Jan 2 2018 08:32PM

New Years Eve, 2017

It’s 7pm and I’ve just started the blog. I plan to go to bed early because I’m on call and I’m hoping that revellers don’t accidentally contribute to the strain on hospital A&E departments. Not a fan of this night, any year, because of the way it’s been hyped up by advertisers and the drinks industry and how it seems to have become accepted that on this particular occasion it’s OK to get totally wasted, my best new year was spent stargazing on the summit of a small drumlin on the Furness peninsula to mark the transition from the 1970s to the 80s.


Night sky over Furness
Night sky over Furness

TV has been awful this week. The BBC 24 hour news channel has been filling the gaps between genuine pieces of news with reviews of the year for Sport, Film, Deaths, Royals and so on, shown with a frequency that positively numbs so that it becomes difficult to work out which day of the week it is. Having gone to see Crystal Palace play today I can confirm that the football schedule doesn’t help with this feeling of dislocation; lucrative broadcasting deals mean that Premier League teams and their fans are at the mercy of TV executives so that this year, what used to be traditional Boxing Day fixture took place over three days and the New Year’s Day fixture is also due to be spread over three days. Throw in odd kick off times (Palace played at noon) and it’s also messing around with my circadian rhythm.


A couple of days ago we had the announcement of who appeared in the New Year’s Honours list. This is something of a end-of-year ritual and despite a promise to end cronyism, a concession wrung out by a public increasingly disillusioned with the way politics works, we end up with a knighthood for Tory kingmaker Graham Brady and another for ex-deputy PM Nick Clegg, whose lust for power facilitated 7 years of austerity, massive student debt and the impending destruction of the NHS. This ‘recognition’, though a little better than the obvious returning of a favour to Lynton Crosby in the list last year, reinforces the notion that politics is played by an elite for people within their own, tiny bubble and with little or no connection to everyday life. This is obviously not the case for all MPs but there are a number of parliamentarians (and, at a local level, councillors) who use their power and influence to manipulate policy so that it benefits themselves or their families; those with directorships of private health companies or the landlords of multiple properties, for instance. If there’s one burning issue of the times it must be inequality, whether that’s a lack of access to decent housing, decent social services and healthcare provision or decent jobs but, to the shame of us all, the gap between the haves and have nots is getting wider.


PM David Cameron and Deputy PM Nick Clegg (Getty Images)
PM David Cameron and Deputy PM Nick Clegg (Getty Images)

I find it obnoxious that the lies told during the Brexit debate have put the country in a position which exaggerates inequality; resentment at a lack of investment in former industrial regions, backed up with the spurious mantra that we’d ‘take back control’ was channelled into stoking anti-immigration sentiment and the subsequent devaluation of Sterling means that the increased cost of goods disproportionally affects the less well-off whereas the concomitant rise in share value benefits the already wealthy. It’s incredible that we can boast about the return of blue and gold passports (during the increased time in queues at customs, perhaps) swapped for seamless, invisible borders for exports and imports, and continue an archaic honours scheme which celebrates the achievements of some of the most inappropriate individuals. As for football, today’s Palace performance might have convinced me that it’s ok to get another season ticket for next year; the lack of application from players on silly wages at the beginning of the season felt like they didn’t care about the fans who pay to see them play, their earnings outstripping that of the average punter by some unholy figure.



Crystal Palace vs. Manchester City 31/12/17
Crystal Palace vs. Manchester City 31/12/17

I’m a bit torn by the awarding of any kind of prize where intangibles are weighed up by panels because everyone has innate bias; likes and dislikes. One of the rituals I used to go through as a youth in the mid-70s was to check the Melody Maker, NME and Sounds annual polls to see how the artists that I favoured fared. Some of the results ran counter to both my tastes and to reason, such as Gilbert O’Sullivan reaching no.2 in the Male Singer category and no.4 in the Keyboards category of the 1972 MM Readers’ Poll and I was somewhat bemused by some of the musicians ranked in ‘Miscellaneous Instrument’ because it didn’t tell you which particular instrument it was referring to for each artist and they could easily have been covered by one of the other categories.


The concept has been taken up by Prog magazine which, apart from holding an awards ceremony includes an annual 20 Top Albums of the Year feature where the results are culled from the preferences of the journalists themselves. Additionally, we were invited to vote in their annual reader’s poll, mimicking the format of the classic music papers during the 70s, with the results due out in the next edition. I’ve moved on a little since the 70s and though I don’t mind a list that is supplemented with a bit of information, the Top 20 Albums of 2017 as chosen by the writers at Prog magazine isn’t really my thing. However, I submitted some obscure choices for the Readers’ Poll so I will take a look at the published results.



New Year’s Day, 2018

After listening to one of my Christmas presents, the excellent Three Piece Suite retrospective by Gentle Giant, the first complete recording I’ve listened to for nearly a week due to work, football and family commitments, I thought I’d share some of ProgBlog’s category winners, based on material released in 2017 and the concerts I attended, material unlikely to get much of a mention in Prog...


Playing Three Piece Suite by Gentle Giant
Playing Three Piece Suite by Gentle Giant

(I got called out and got home a little before midnight)

Back to the blog. Tuesday 2nd January


Album of the year: An Invitation by Amber Foil

Strictly an EP, this is the creation of João Filipe, and it’s a wonderful, all-round and well balanced item. The music takes you back to classic 70s prog, blending very modern concerns with a kind of Grimm’s fairy tale. The quirkiness of the music is reflected in the CD packaging which also contains a ‘blueprint for a house’. It’s unique. Get yourself a copy.


Commended: Alight by Cellar Noise


Bassist: John Wetton

Wetton died in January 2017, the third original progressive rock bassist to pass away in the last couple of years. Whereas there are undoubtedly a large number of amazing technical players who were represented on record or I saw play live during 2017, the accolade has to go to Wetton for the unbelievably wide range of material he’s left for us, including some of the most inventive lines expressed during his time with the 1972 – 1974 incarnation of King Crimson. A great loss to the prog community.


John Wetton circa. Caught in the Crossfire
John Wetton circa. Caught in the Crossfire

Drummer: Franz di Cioccio

The only original member of PFM remaining in the band, di Cioccio now spends as much time behind a microphone acting as front man as he does behind his kit, but along with long-term associate bassist Patrick Djivas he’s steered the ship through periods of not-so-good music to produce their best album of original material for a very long time. Emotional Tattoos may not quite hit the heights of L’Isola di Niente and Photos of Ghosts (I think it lacks sufficient contrast) but the songs are strong and the playing assured. Di Cioccio’s boundless energy, with either sticks or mic stand in his hands, is something to behold.


Guitarist: Allan Holdsworth

Holdsworth is another progressive rock legend who died last year, though in reality he was probably more of a jazz guitarist whose fluid lines graced releases by Tempest, Soft Machine, Gong, Bruford and UK. Highly regarded by other guitarists, his style was idiosyncratic. He’s another fine musician who is sadly missed.


Keyboard player

There are actually too many excellent prog keyboard players to choose from. Of course it’s great to see Rick Wakeman performing classic Yes again with ARW but I’ve also been most impressed with up-and-coming talent from Italy like Niccolò Gallani from Cellar Noise and Sandro Amadei from Melting Clock.


Miscellaneous instrument: Mel Collins, King Crimson (flute, saxophones)

I’ve always considered this a category for non-conventional rock instrumentation, rather than picking a particular type of keyboard like Moog, Mellotron or synthesizer but it was fine when Mike Oldfield used to pick up the prize for playing everything. My preference for a prog-associated instrument not covered by bass, drums, guitar or keyboards is the flute, followed by violin; I was very impressed with Lucio Fabbri when I saw him with PFM and his playing on Emotional Tattoos is real quality but I’m going to plump for Mel Collins for his woodwind. Crimson may not have played the UK in 2017 but the set-list for the US gigs, released on vinyl and CD last year, highlights the formidable talents of Collins.


Vocalist: Emanuela Vedana, Melting Clock

I’m one of a fairly small number of people to have seen the two gigs by Melting Clock but I don’t imagine it will be too long before they reach a much wider audience when they release an album later this year. Their brand of symphonic progressivo Italiano would undoubtedly appeal to all fans of the genre, but two obvious reference points are Renaissance and neo-prog. The songs are highly melodic and well-crafted with multiple layers, utilising twin guitars and keyboards to set the tone for Emanuela’s strong, operatic vocals. Simply stunning.



Live act

Choosing a favourite live act is too difficult, so I’m not going to make a decision. I’ve managed to get to see quite a number of Italian bands from the 70s, including PFM at the fourth attempt, and seeing Wakeman, Jon Anderson and Trevor Rabin performing Yes music together was quite special, but it’s the surprises like Cellar Noise and Melting Clock, both of which included accurate early Genesis tributes in their sets, which make it impossible to decide on an outright winner.


Cellar Noise at the Legend Club, Milan
Cellar Noise at the Legend Club, Milan

Venue: Porto Antico, Genova

Choosing a favourite venue is equally hard. The acoustics inside neo-rationalist Teatro Carlo Felice in Genova are brilliant, but the architecture and the internal decor are terrible; the Royal Festival Hall is a great looking building, also with amazing acoustics but I was disappointed with the Dweezil Zappa set. I loved the intimacy of Genova’s La Claque whereas Rome’s Jailbreak Club was a bit too crowded over the weekend of the Progressivamente festival. Brighton Dome is a beautiful performance space though it can be a bit of a drag getting back from Brighton by car or public transport at the end of a gig.

A fantastic setting, good sound and a great line-up made the Porto Antico Prog Fest very special and it was only a 10 minute walk back to my hotel.









By ProgBlog, Nov 21 2017 04:02PM

Last week was the latest ProgBlog adventure in Genova (and a couple of cities along the Italian Riviera.) Not only did I get to see four amazing bands on two separate nights, I also managed to add to my vinyl and CD collections with visits to Genova’s Black Widow Records and Jocks Team in Savona, at the La Claque night of prog, plus a couple of 180g vinyl re-releases bought from newsstands, part of a series of Prog Rock Italiano in association with publisher De Agostini.


Jocks Team, Savona
Jocks Team, Savona

The Progressive Night was held at the La Claque club and organised by Black Widow. Ancient Veil opened proceedings with an acoustic set from a pared-down line-up of Alessandro Serri on guitar, Edmondo Romano on woodwind and Fabio Serri on piano, plus contributions from special guest Marco Gnecco. The sound may have been pared down since I last saw them as a full electric band in May, but their compositions are well-suited to an unplugged format and apart from a couple of moments where Alessandro had to fight a little to find the right key to sing, on tracks where the vocals commenced the song without an instrumental introduction, it was a fine performance of some beautiful, folk-inspired music. I’m still getting into their latest release I Am Changing from earlier this year, so my favourite track was one of those I’m much more familiar with, the Eris Pluvia album title track Rings of Earthly Light.


Ticket for A Progressive Night, La Claque
Ticket for A Progressive Night, La Claque

Ancient Veil, unplugged 11-11-17
Ancient Veil, unplugged 11-11-17

I’d had a chat with Melting Clock keyboard player Sandro Amadei in the Black Widow shop (where else?) when I popped in to say hello and buy a few albums after arriving in the city on the Friday, and when I arrived at La Claque for the gig I spoke to most of the band and was pleased to see that they’d got lots of support from family and friends in a packed club. I was even given a small memento: a Melting Clock plectrum which had featured in a promotional poster for the evening. I was told that this was only their second ever gig as an ensemble, the first being the Porto Antico Prog Fest in the summer, and they suggested that although the atmosphere in La Claque was incredible, the sound check had uncovered a problem with feedback when vocalist Emanuela Vedana sang at full volume. This was in contrast to Porto Antico, a large, semi-open space where whatever first-gig nerves they may have had, they could really let rip. They need not have worried; the audience was won over with the first song, L'Occhio dello Sciacallo (The Jackal’s Eye) which followed a short instrumental introduction Quello che rimane (What Remains) and the club’s acoustics didn’t cause any problems. My personal favourite is Antares, a mini-masterpiece of carefully crafted modern symphonic progressive rock. Their self-penned compositions hint at 70’s Renaissance, albeit with a distinct Mediterranean flavour; the twin guitars of Simone Caffè and Stefano Amadei add extra depth while the rhythm section of Alessandro Bosca (sporting a new 6-string bass and matching tie!) and Francesco Fiorito contribute complex but well-thought out lines to pin down the music.


Their influences might surprise a few people, considering the songs they’ve covered. At Porto Antico they performed a sublime rendition of Firth of Fifth, at La Claque they played an incredibly accurate version of Soon, the hauntingly beautiful coda to Gates of Delirium from Relayer by Yes, producing one of those spine-tingling moments which made the hairs on my arms stand up, and ended their set with a crowd-pleasing performance of Time from Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon. It turns out that Stefano and Francesco are into metal and Sandro likes Scandinavian jazz, though Simone is a David Gilmour fan. The mixture has somehow produced excellent results; their entire set was brilliant and heralds a very bright future.


Phoenix Again was the headline act of the evening. I met most of the band at the merchandise stand where I bought their three studio albums on CD; ThreeFour (2011), Look Out (2014) and Unexplored, released this year on the Black Widow Records label, and was very kindly presented with a T-shirt. From Brescia and originally called Phoenix when they formed in 1981 by Lorandi brothers Claudio (lead guitar, voices), Antonio (bass), Sergio (guitars) along with Silvano Silva (drums, percussion), they added keyboard player Emilio Rossi to expand their symphonic sound in 1986 but disbanded in 1998 without ever having produced an album. Following the death of Claudio in 2007 they revisited their music and, with the help of a number of guest musicians, released ThreeFour in 2011 under the moniker of Phoenix Again.

The current incarnation, first appearing on Look Out, is made up from original Phoenix members Antonio Lorandi, Sergio Lorandi (now taking on lead guitar and vocal duties) and Silvano Silva, plus two more of the Lorandi family, Marco (guitar) and Giorgio (percussion), and Andrea Piccinelli on keyboards. On record, their sound ranges from symphonic progressive to jazz rock, funk and experimental however, their live sound tends more towards the jazzy and has a much more urgent, hard edge which makes it come across as complex and intricate. I think I recognised the epic tune Adso da Melk from Look Out which includes a multitude of styles but has a section which reminds me of Camel’s Lunar Sea. The high energy set concluded with some banter between the audience and Marco Lorandi, who appeared to have been asked to pick out a particular tune or riff and this in turn gave way to a solo spot from Sergio who, as the crowd was dispersing, played beautiful renditions of first Steve Howe’s Mood for a Day (from Fragile) and then Steve Hackett’s Horizons from Foxtrot.


I stayed behind after the performances to speak to a number of the artists, congratulating Melting Clock on a magnificent show and getting introduced to local promoter Marina Montobbio who, it turns out, had been at the 2014 Prog Résiste festival in Soignies because of her work for The Watch who had headlined on the last evening. Resplendent in a pair of Gibson plectrum earrings, I’d seen her at Porto Antico taking photos of the different groups and also chatting to musicians, so I suspected she had some official role. Smart and knowledgeable, if I ever think about getting involved in promotion in the music business, she’d be top of the list of people to contact. It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening thanks to the musicians and the organisers and I can’t believe anyone could have left the venue feeling disappointed.



PFM ticket
PFM ticket

I’ve waited a long time to see PFM play live and stayed on in Genova for their appearance at the city’s premier venue, the Teatro Carlo Felice. With a boarded-over orchestra pit the septet seemed quite far away, even from row 12 in the stalls, but I soon found out that sole surviving original member and de facto front man Franz Di Cioccio was able to take full advantage of the empty space. I’d burned the Italian version of the CD of their new release Emotional Tattoos, which came with my English-version double vinyl, and listened to this the night before on my mp3 player in preparation for the concert; they began with Il Regno from that album, which I think is one of the best tracks. They then performed a string of early classics: La Luna Nuova (from L’Isola di Niente, the original version of Four Holes in the Ground for anyone without the Italian releases); a surprising English language inclusion, Photos of Ghosts; Il Banchetto which appears on the second album Per un Amico and also on the first of their Manticore LPs Photos of Ghosts; Dove... Quando... part 1 and part 2, from 1972’s Storia di un Minuto; and La Carrozza di Hans and Impressioni di Settembre (which would become the title track from The World Became the World) also from the debut record. If the performance had stopped at this point I’d have been completely satisfied because the songs and the playing had already exceeded my expectations; this is what I’d waited for. However, the show continued with two more of the best songs from Emotional Tattoos, La Danza degli Specchi and Freedom Square, before the band took a 10 minute break. They recommenced with the Celtic-influenced Quartiere Generale but then moved into territory I was unfamiliar with, Maestro della Voce from the 1980 album Suonare Suonare, one of the only PFM releases I don’t possess and which featured violinist and current member Lucio Fabbri for the first time. There is a version on PFM: In Classic but it's not a track I listen to. This was one of two tracks from the entire evening which I found unsatisfactory but that’s because Suonare Suonare is considered to be PFM’s equivalent of ...And Then There Were Three, the first post-Gabriel, post-Hackett Genesis album, the mark of decline from full-on progressive rock. Normal service was resumed following an introductory explanation to the next piece from Patrick Djivas, who pointed out the importance of classical composers to the PFM sound and they played Romeo e Giulietta: Danza dei Cavalieri which had been covered on their 2013 PFM: In Classic album. The classical theme continued with Mr. Nine Till Five appended with Five Till Nine including their version of Rossini’s William Tell Overture. They left the stage only to return in less than a minute, before the audience request for an encore had even started in earnest, recommencing with their version of the Fabrizio De André song Il Pescatore. This had particular relevance for Genova, because De André, regarded as Italy’s best ever singer-songwriter for his mix of Ligurian folk influences with social commentary, came from the city. De André shunned public performance until 1975 but his 1979 tour featured PFM as backing band and allowed them to choose the set list and make the instrumental arrangements. The crowd had been calling out suggestions for what to play and it came as no surprise that part of the encore was the old favourite È Festa (Celebration on Photos of Ghosts) which included an amusing drum duet between Di Cioccio and Roberto Gualdi and some audience participation, encouraged by the PFM front man who was bounding around the entire front stage area (splitting the hall into three sections to chant Se-le-Brescion, as this version of the song is known.) They left the stage to tumultuous applause and even though the house lights came on, the crowd applauded and called for more music and eventually, the band conceded and returned to play what I believe was the theme from the 1966 comedy film L’Armata Brancaleone, the energetic folk-inflected Branca Branca Branca Leon Leon Leon written by Carlo Rustichelli. This was lost on me at the time, though my fellow concert-goers absolutely loved it; it’s been in the PFM repertoire for some time and I found it interesting to note that Carlo Rustichelli’s son Paolo was also a composer, releasing the prog Italiano Opera Prima in 1973.


The vocals were primarily handled by Di Cioccio but some of the singing was by Alberto Bravin, who also added keyboards. The main keyboard player, accurately interpreting the early material, was Alessandro Scaglione and filling the shoes of Franco Mussida, who left the band in 2015, was Marco Sfogli. The line-up proved very adept and though there was no flautist, these lines were provided by keyboards; it might also have been good to hear something from Chocolate Kings or Jet Lag, the latter album being a vehicle to showcase Djivas’ excellent bass technique but when you think that they played for over two and a half hours, promoting their latest release but also entertaining us with all the old classics, it was impossible to walk away without thinking that sticking around in Genova for three extra nights had been a good cause for celebration.












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