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Recently returned from the 2018 Porto Antico Prog Fest in Genoa, where ProgBlog met up with last year's star turn Melting Clock, and discussion turned to the artwork for their forthcoming album which is due to begin recording in the next couple of weeks...

By ProgBlog, Jun 26 2018 02:59PM



It doesn’t take much to get me on an aeroplane to Italy, but the promise of a good band is an added incentive. The last trip to Milan for the FIM Fiera Internazionale della Musica was primarily about getting to see Anekdoten, something of a coup for the Black Widow Records-organised Prog On evening, with a support slot from La Fabbrica dell’Assoluto whose excellent 1984: L’Ultimo Uomo d’Europa was added to my record collection earlier this year. I’d also been informed that the third band on the bill, Hollowscene, was another amazing symphonic prog band well worth looking out for.


Originally a duo called Banaau formed in 1990 by guitar player Andrea Massimo and keyboard player Lino Cicala, they recruited drummer Davide Quacquarella and bassist player Dino Pantaleo to perform long-form suites inspired by T.S. Eliot’s The Hollow Men and The Love Story of J Alfred Prufrock and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Conqueror Worm, but didn’t spend any time recording the material. There was a hiatus following the departures of Quacquarella and Pantaleo lasting from the early 90s until 2011 when the pair met again and agreed to continue working on songs written by Massimo during that almost 20 year gap. In 2015 they officially re-emerged as a septet, augmented by Andrea Zani on keyboards, Elton Novara on guitar, Tony Alemanno on bass guitar and bass pedals, Matteo Paparazzo on drums and Demetra Fogazza playing flute and adding vocals, and released a highly-acclaimed 20 minute-long EP The Burial inspired by The Burial of the Dead, the first of five sections of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land (1922).


For their first full-length album, Massimo and Cicala changed the band name to Hollowscene and replaced Novara with guitarist Walter Kesten. The new moniker recalls T.S. Eliot’s The Hollow Men but is also a play on the current geological era, the Holocene, and could even allude to the general state of music, a hollow scene. Once again, this features a lengthy concept, a five-part suite Broken Coriolanus and the album also includes a reworked version of The Worm, one of their original compositions, plus a cover version of The Moon is Down, a 1971 Gentle Giant song taken from Acquiring the Taste.


‘Broken Coriolanus’ is another T.S. Eliot reference, appearing in line 215 of The Waste Land:


Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours

Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus


This itself is a reference to Shakespeare’s tragedy Coriolanus, based on the life of the legendary Roman general Caius Marcius Coriolanus who, following military success against uprisings challenging the government of Rome becomes active in politics. A proud, rude but genuine character whose nature, according to Menenius in the play


...is too noble for the world:

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

Or Jove for’s power to thunder. His heart’s his mouth:

What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent


Such a temperament made him unsuited to popular leadership and he is quickly deposed but, being true, he sets about trying to right wrongs in his own way and is forced to choose between his pride and his love for his family, ultimately bringing about his sad death.


Through no fault of theirs, Hollowscene’s performance in Milan was disrupted by a change to the published running order and a shortage of time during the soundcheck. I was expecting them to be the second act to play, following Prowlers, allowing them plenty of time to complete the entire Broken Coriolanus suite but they were actually the first band on stage which meant I missed their first track. What I did hear soon dispelled any disappointment because it was first-class symphonic prog that reminded me alternately of Tony Bank’s keyboard work for Genesis and, perhaps because of the double keyboards, occasional jazz phrasing of the guitar and the flute, National Health circa 1978. When they were rather hastily removed from the stage without completing their full scheduled set, presumably to keep the evening running to time, many of the audience were rather disbelieving; I’d just have to wait to get to hear the album.


I picked up a copy of the CD at the gig and the moment you click play it’s obvious that this is a very fine piece of rock progressivo Italiano. First track Welcome to Rome is simultaneously modern-sounding and a classic progressive rock piece. It begins with a fairly brief sinuous synthesizer and guitar line in an uncompromising time signature and gives way to a military rhythm which is very fitting with the theme, just before the vocals begin over harmonic flute lines. You get the immediate impression that it’s an uplifting (welcoming!) song, aided by fluent synth parts, yet there’s a rhythmical complexity underlying the entire piece. All the singing on the album is in well-delivered English. Massimo has a good voice that suits the story-telling requirements of the music; he’s not over-flashy and confines himself to a fairly narrow range, but he sings with a studied confidence. The group have a full, well-balanced sound, both live and on disc, and it’s clear that Genesis, Steve Hackett and Banks in particular, are a major influence.

A Brave Fellow follows in much the same vein; highly melodic, again with the same clean lead guitar which gives way to some excellent synth. A flute passage gives way to emotive piano and vocals, with constantly changing instrumentation and sounds. When the second set of vocals finish, they’re followed by an eerie synth with a staccato rhythm, replaced by organ that harks back to classic 70’s progressivo Italiano; slightly threatening, building gradually towards the denouement.

Traitor is played with a slightly increased tempo. It’s a predominantly vocal piece punctuated by relatively short but tasteful guitar breaks, the second, soaring, more lengthy than the first. That’s not to say there isn’t a great deal going on underneath the singing; there are busy keyboard parts, some strong melodic flute and the contrast of a short burst of more breathy flute.

Slippery Turns is more sedate than the previous track, beginning with more of the emotive piano and vocals before being joined by flute. It departs from the expected with a passage in Japanese from Atsumori, a classical musical drama by Zeami Motokiyo who lived from around the late 14th century to the mid 15th century, narrated by Takehiro Ueki:


Human life lasts only 50 years, Contrast human life with life of Geten, It is but a very dream and illusion. Once they are given life from god, there is no such thing don't perish


Atsumori was a 16 year-old killed in the battle of Ichi-no-Tani in 1184 who is said to have carried a flute into battle, evidence of his peaceful, courtly nature as well as his youthfulness and naïveté. Eliot is believed to have invoked Coriolanus for The Waste Land as an allusion to death in battle.

The tone on the Japanese-spoken section is solemn but gives way to one of Hollowscene’s trademark guitar breaks. Massimo speaks the last section over another staccato rhythm that reminds me of Watcher of the Skies, without the Mellotron, but with some bright synth.

Rage and Sorrow is a mini-epic and, at a little over 13 minutes, the longest track on the CD. The development of the composition takes in the full range of keyboard sounds you’d associate with prog and there’s a really good balance between vocal and instrumental passages. Fogazza takes on shared lead vocal duties at the beginning of the piece, which I thought were reminiscent of Amanda Parsons singing on National Health; a strong, clear, unaffected voice.

A truly dynamic conclusion to the concept, one of the sections that most transports me is an emotive 12 string guitar accompanied by highly melodic flute akin to the classic Genesis sound on Foxtrot or Selling England by the Pound but throughout the track the twin guitars really work well, with nice angular riffs providing a framework for the vocal melody lines.


The Worm commences with an extended passage of gorgeous early Crimson-like flute, floating above picked guitar chords and keyboard washes which I think represents the best of progressive rock. The keyboard line which is introduced prior to the vocals is closer to neo-prog, perhaps reflecting the era in which the song was originally written, demonstrating that Hollowscene aren’t simply attempting to recreate a 70’s vibe but selecting suitable references to make some outstanding modern symphonic prog. The song undergoes a number of tempo changes, injecting a sense of urgency with the use of triplets and even gets quite dark.

Gentle Giant’s The Moon is Down is relatively sparse, containing brief flashes of texture, with phased clarinet, sax and multi-tracked vocals and a relatively urgent instrumental middle section which could be seen as a template for the GG medieval sound; Hollowscene stamp their own form on the song with different instrumentation, beginning the piece with piano and flute but using fuzzed guitar behind the vocals, adding lead synthesizer to their middle section. It’s a nice nod to one of the classic 70s progressive rock bands.



The band have used the same cover image for the Burial EP and Hollowscene, taken by acknowledged master photographer Ernesto Fantozzi in 1961. The photo appears to be a view towards the Via Biscegli in Milan from the west or south west where the frozen ground fits the imagery of Eliot’s opening lines for The Waste Land. This attention to detail reflects the care in which the album has been put together. It’s altogether a really satisfying and very fine piece of work.


Hollowscene by Hollowscene is available on Black Widow Records BWR207









By ProgBlog, May 14 2017 06:07PM

Gig review by Mike Chavez


Despite being aware of Steve Hackett since the early 80s it’s taken until now to finally get to see him, and it was hearing the thoroughly excellent Genesis Revisited II last year that swung it for me to get tickets this time. The tickets were bought a good six months ago, and despite getting in very early a huge block of seats near the front was immediately taken, leading me to think that the resellers and touts were seeing this as some kind of beano. So middle of row Z it was then, accompanied by my gig buddies Mike and Lois. Happily the Colston is quite forgiving if you don’t have the best seats, and the sound was excellent too.


The show was billed as Genesis Revisited with Classic Hackett, and there were heavy intimations beforehand about likely plundering of Genesis’ Wind & Wuthering album on its 40th anniversary. In a show of two halves we started with Classic Hackett, including three tracks from the very well received new album The Night Siren, plus half a dozen others including Serpentine Song and the set closer Shadow of the Hierophant.

Despite being not particularly au fait with the music being played I enjoyed it immensely as the material was good and the musicianship excellent. Music played by players at the top of their game is seldom going to be disappointing. The typical guitar, bass, keyboards, drums line up I was expecting was augmented by Rob Townsend on a variety of instruments including flute, percussion and sax. I know now that Rob is a regular on Hackett tours, and he really does add an extra dimension to the music, as well as bringing some interesting jazz and eastern influences. Regular Hackett performers Gary O’Toole (drums) and Roger King (keyboards) were joined by the mighty Nick Beggs on bass and a variety of guitars, presumably killing time between Steven Wilson tours and the myriad of other things he gets up to. Hackett himself was looking very good for his years, and was content to allow the others their chances to shine. Buttering up the crowd he told us how beautiful a place Bristol was…and that he wished he could afford to live here! Come on Steve, the times aren’t that tough mate, even you could probably get a three bed semi in Knowle West.


After the break we got the Genesis Revisited work, which did draw heavily from Wind & Wuthering as predicted. Vocalist Nad Sylvan joined the band for set two, resplendent in a garish long coat that would not have looked out of place on an 18th century fop. We got most of Wind & Wuthering, including One for The Vine, Eleventh Earl of Mar and Afterglow, and the excellent Inside and Out, which was left off the album and included on the Spot the Pigeon EP, a hit single back in 1977. Hackett swapped out a few Tony Banks keyboard lines for his own guitar lines here and there, but then it was his show after all. One of the highlights for me was drummer Gary O’Toole singing Blood on the Rooftops, which he made a great job of, in fact I much prefer his vocal to that of Phil Collins. I would have said it was unusual to hear a drummer do the vocals, but then you can’t really say that about a Genesis track…

The rest of the show was not too dissimilar to the Seconds Out live album, Hackett’s Genesis swansong where his guitar was allegedly mixed down after his announcement to quit: Firth of Fifth (but with the beautiful piano intro restored), Cinema Show, Dance on a Volcano and Musical Box thrilled the crowd, with Slogans (from Defector) and Los Endos as the encore to close a set lasting just shy of 2 ½ hours, and receiving a standing ovation from the audience.


The chroniclers often tell us there are two versions of Genesis, the Gabriel led prog legends and the Collins led pop band. That doesn’t nearly tell the whole story, and it certainly didn’t all change or turn to rats when Gabriel quit the band, in fact both A Trick of the Tail and Wind & Wuthering are great Genesis albums in my opinion. The turning point for me was Steve Hackett leaving, so perhaps the Hackett years and the Collins years is a more appropriate way to segment the band’s career. No offence Anthony Phillips!

I had pretty high expectations for this show, I wasn’t disappointed. I’m just wondering why I waited 35 years to go and see him live.


If you’re quick there are still four UK dates left, with the final one in London on Friday 19th


Full set list:


Set 1 (Classic Hackett):

1. Every Day

2. El Niño

3. The Steppes

4. In the Skeleton Gallery

5. Behind the Smoke

6. Serpentine Song

7. Rise Again

8. Shadow of the Hierophant


Set 2 (Genesis Revisited with Nad Sylvan):

9. Eleventh Earl of Mar

10. One for the Vine

11. Blood on the Rooftops

12. ...In That Quiet Earth

13. Afterglow

14. Dance on a Volcano

15. Inside and Out

16. Firth of Fifth

17. The Musical Box


Encore:

18. Slogans

19. Los Endos



By ProgBlog, Feb 14 2016 08:04PM

It was Peter Gabriel’s 66th birthday yesterday and the twittersphere was replete with felicitations. Gabriel’s part in the pantheon of progressive rock is firmly cemented: lead vocalist with early Genesis; world music luminary; sonic innovator. I’d like to add that I believe his anti-apartheid stance and his concern for our treatment of the planet are also very prog; promoting environmental issues and equality are key progressive traits, born of late-60s idealism.


There are many more differences between the music on his first solo album Peter Gabriel (1977) and his collaborative previous release, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974) than there were between Trespass (1970) and The Lamb. Early Genesis followed a distinct trajectory from compositions that featured 12 string guitar and piano or organ in equal measure overlain by lyrics that were seeped in mythology and allegory, where Gabriel often comes across as vulnerable and tentative. On The Lamb, Gabriel oozes confidence, perhaps aided by the adoption of the Rael persona and the music is heavier, more muscular, involving more riffs than before even though it’s still very melodic. Banks’ use of synthesizer, absent on Foxtrot (1972) and debuting on Selling England by the Pound (1973) is predominantly used for angular runs (such as on In the Cage and Back in NYC.) On reflection, I suggest it’s primarily the synthesizer that’s responsible for the majority of motifs that I’ve detected forming a sonic bridge between Selling England and The Lamb.

The Lamb may be made up of short pieces but it does have an overriding linear narrative that puts it in the long-form category, Supper’s Ready was originally a series of musical ideas that were fitted together to make one piece, similar to Van der Graaf Generator’s A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers (from Pawn Hearts, 1971) where sections are discrete but seamlessly segue into each other; as a distinct modern musical trope this idea was adopted by The Beatles for Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967), an idea that was mimicked by any number of proto-progressive acts and one that could be used to define the genre in its infancy. I believe that the Moody Blues’ Days of Future Passed (1967), not fully formed prog by any means, is another good example of a well-defined full album-length concept comprised of disparate songs and this, rather than a nebulous concept like Dark Side of the Moon (1973) or the philosophical musings of Jon Anderson and Steve Howe on Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973), has more parallels with Rael’s journey of self-discovery.

The shorter songs on Peter Gabriel are not conceptually linked but all display thoughtfulness in their composition. This may have been Gabriel’s return to ‘the machinery’ after a hiatus but it was on his terms, informed in part by the years he’d spent in Genesis but reflecting other influences. I don’t think it conforms to the original definition of prog but it is undoubtedly progressive. It’s probably art-rock, with more immediacy and a more contemporary feel. It’s as though Rael showed Gabriel what he was able to become and I think the first solo effort has a New York vibe to it, even though it was recorded in Toronto and London! One similarity between The Lamb and Peter Gabriel is the humour in the rhyme, the use of couplets, half rhymes and rhymes within a single line (the rhyme is planned, dummies) evident, for instance on Moribund the Burgermeister “Bunderschaft, you going daft? Better seal off the castle grounds...” or Humdrum “I ride tandem with a random/Things don’t work out the way I planned them.” However, there’s a less obvious break with prog on Peter Gabriel that hits you the moment you take the album out from wherever you’ve stored it: the cover photo of Gabriel in the passenger seat of Storm Thorgerson’s Lancia Flavia.

It’s probably incidental but the album contains a couple of automobile references, in Excuse Me where Gabriel muses “who needs a Cadillac anyway” and a more technical, almost Ballardian reference to a “red hot magneto” on Modern Love. Despite Nick Mason’s association with motor racing and Rick Wakeman’s collection of cars in the mid 70s, cars don’t often make an appearance in prog rock songs. Is this surprising? Rock ‘n’ roll and the associated ‘live fast, die young’ ethos seem inextricably linked with motor cars and there have been hundreds of songs written about driving and automobiles. This is hardly astonishing as the development of the two aspects of (American) youth culture, music and driving, were contemporaneous; the end of post-war austerity and the invention of the American Dream issuing in a world of leisure and consumerism. Singing about driving could be rebellious but whatever the message, songs about cars pervade much of rock music from Chuck Berry’s No Particular Place to Go (1964) and The Beatles Drive My Car (1965) to Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run album (1975) and there’s a strong association, at least amongst British TV viewers, of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain (1977) and F1 racing. The movie Grease with its cod 50s rock ‘n’ roll appeared in 1978 and has become the most popular musical film of all time. There even seems to be a morbid glamour that has attached itself to automobile accidents, brilliantly explored in JG Ballard’s collection of related stories The Atrocity Exhibition (1970) and full length novel Crash (1973), epitomised by the death of James Dean in his Porsche 550 Spyder in 1955, the crash that killed Diana, Princess of Wales in Paris in 1997 and even the assassination of JFK in his open topped limousine in 1963 (partly the subject of Gabriel’s Family Snapshot (on Peter Gabriel III, Melt, 1980.)

The lyrics of Adrian Belew on Beat (1982) and Three of a Perfect Pair (1984), the second and third releases by the 1981 – 1984 incarnation of King Crimson are something of an exception when it comes to prog and cars. Beat was inspired by Jack Kerouac so road trip references abound in Neal and Jack and Me: “I’m wheels, I am moving wheels/I am a 1952 Studebaker coupe... ...I am a 1952 Starlite coupe”. Crimson journeyed into experimental industrial music on the second side (aka the Right side) of Three of a Perfect Pair, starting with homage to the scrapped car, Dig Me which calls to mind Christine (1983) the Bill Phillips film adaptation of Stephen King’s horror novel and hints at Ballardian prose. I don’t suppose any of us should be shocked that tyre manufacturer Dunlop used a portion of 21st Century Schizoid Man for adverts in 1996...



A cosmic take on the idea of cruising along was released as a single and appeared on Rain Dances (1977) by Camel in the form of Highways of the Sun. It doesn’t matter if they’re in an old sedan that’s lost a wheel or a ship that’s got no sails, this is hardly the same vision as that visualised by heavy rockers Deep Purple, on Highway Star (from Machine Head, 1972) with its imagery of sexualised power. Hard rock seemed to go for this form of association, the video of ‘fast’ women, hot cars and hard guitars, apparently reinventing scenes of bikini-clad women draped over cars at a motor show for the MTV age... and critics called prog musicians dinosaurs! Even Roger Waters got in on the act with the cover artwork for The Pros and cons of Hitch Hiking (1984.)



One oddity is White Car from Drama (1980) by Yes. Lasting only 1’20” this song was allegedly brought to the band by newcomers Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes. It’s likely to be seen as throw-away because of its brevity but in that time it opens out to reveal a cinematic scope, with nice keyboard orchestration and poignant percussion. I don’t know what the lyrics allude to but I think of a classic Rolls Royce on a road atop of Yorkshire or perhaps Devonshire moors. It’s dramatic, and maybe that’s where the album title comes from; it’s certainly not car as analogy for sex object!

By ProgBlog, May 11 2015 05:35PM

I’ve just returned from a long bank holiday weekend in my native Cumbria, staying with my brother Tony near Ulverston, a short drive away from the Lake District National Park. The Lakes scenery is stunning, produced over millions of years by a range of natural processes and more lately tinkered with by man.

Part of the itinerary was to be a trip to RAF Spadeadam near Brampton in the north east of the county. The idea was to visit the former Blue Streak missile test site and, as we’d be travelling through the appropriate area, include a rendezvous with old friend Bill Burford, drummer for Water’s Edge who resides in Melmerby, near Penrith.

Blue Streak was intended to be the UK’s intermediate range ballistic missile but the programme was shelved in 1960 and the base was used for development of a Europe-based satellite launcher, itself abandoned in 1972. At least one of the Pages has a professional interest in cold war architecture; Daryl’s Historic Conservation master’s degree thesis was on the preservation and use of cold war bunkers - I simply wanted to take photos of the site for my next musical project, tentatively titled Cold War. Unfortunately, the organisers didn’t confirm our proposed visit and with insufficient time to plan any serious fell walking we just visited parts of the Lake District I’d not been to in the past, examples of human influence on the landscape: Allan Bank, above Grasmere, a former home of William Wordsworth and National Trust founder Canon Hardwicke Rawnsley; the Langdale Boulders at Copt Howe with their Neolithic markings, the most intricate and impressive examples of rock art in Cumbria; and Cathedral Quarry in Great Langdale, an enormous void where the roof is held up by a single pillar in a disused slate quarry.

Roger Dean has written about his trip to the Lakes where he describes seeing a mountain-top tarn that served as inspiration for the inside sleeve of Close to the Edge. It’s not difficult to imagine Dean walking from Honister via Haystacks, where his mountain tarn can be found, over to Langdale, the centre of the Lake District, and visiting the spectacular Cathedral Quarry where a huge hole has been excavated for the attractive green slate (more correctly Borrowdale Tuff, a volcanic ash around 450 million years old, metamorphosed by heat and pressure into a rock that forms one of the distinctive building materials of the region. I think that this edifice could have influenced the cover of Relayer or the cover of his book Views.


This landscape has inspired painters, novelists and Lakeland poets Wordsworth, Coleridge and De Quincy; landscape in general seems to have inspired nineteenth century Romantic composers too, who used long-form symphonic pieces to depict visual images of landmarks and landscapes such as concert overture The Hebrides (better known as Fingal’s Cave) and Scottish Symphony (Symphony No. 3 in A minor) by Felix Mendelssohn and, as Romantic music was one of the major influences on progressive rock, it seems rather odd that despite frequent allusion to geographical or topographical forms there are only a few examples of prog compositions about a named physical landscape.

Not that I’m a fan but Haken’s The Mountain seemed like a good place to start looking however It turns out that the title is merely metaphorical. The most obvious classic prog track inspired by an imaginary landscape is Firth of Fifth, the perennial Genesis favourite, which is fitting because of the Tony Banks piano work and the notion of prog as an updated form of Romantic music; even Steve Hackett’s soloing conforms to the idea of nineteenth-century symphonic poems, stretching the song with sublime guitar lines that appear to describe the contours of the river valley, rounded and flowing, not aggressive or jarring.

Another obvious reference to a geographical location, real this time, is Mike Oldfield’s Hergest Ridge. I’ve previously described how I think this is the best Oldfield album and how the compositional style has been influenced by Romantic composers; the execution aided by supplementary musicians playing instruments associated with classical orchestras. This links rather nicely to The Song of the White Horse by David Bedford, a piece originally commissioned for BBC TV’s Omnibus and aired in 1978. The idea of the programme was to show Bedford in the process of writing, rehearsing and recording the score as well as performing it and it showed him riding his motorcycle along the route of the Ridgeway to the White Horse at Uffington, his inspiration for the commission.

The White Horse dates from around the Bronze Age, created by carving trenches into the hillside which are filled with crushed chalk. Part of a wider ancient landscape which includes the Blowing Stone, a perforated sarsen stone used in Bedford’s composition, the horse can be seen from miles away, as though leaping across the head of a dramatic, dry valley. I find it interesting that the White Horse is mentioned in the medieval Welsh book, Llyfr Coch Hergest (The Red Book of Hergest): "Near to the town of Abinton there is a mountain with a figure of a stallion upon it and it is white. Nothing grows upon it.” Oldfield released Hergest Ridge in 1974 and David Bedford began his commission in 1977.

Though trained as a classical composer, Bedford’s other works have included odd things like 100 kazoos and his charts have used pictures, rather than staves and notes. His rock credentials come via his work with Kevin Ayers, which is how he was introduced to Oldfield. On White Horse he was helped by Soft Machine’s Mike Ratledge on a variety of keyboards, a small ensemble with brass and strings and the Queen’s College choir, a hand-picked female choir from Bedford’s place of work where helium was used to increase the pitch of Diana Coulson’s singing by around two octaves (speed of sound in air = 331 m/s; speed of sound in helium = 972 m/s). The roughly 25 minute composition incorporates GK Chesterton’s poem The Ballad of the White Horse which celebrates King Alfred's victory over the Danes at the Battle of Englefield in the 9th century. Overall I think it’s a very satisfying piece of music incorporating basic sequencing, novel chorale work, Romanticism and some disharmony. It surprised me to find out that college friend Charlie Donkin, who liked The Who, The Rolling Stones, Harry Chapin and Dire Straits, was also a fan of The Song of the White Horse, ending up with a copy of Star’s End or Instructions for Angels when we went to see if we could find a copy in one of London’s many record shops; Charlie also liked Bedside Manner are Extra.



By ProgBlog, Oct 5 2014 07:56PM

I don’t watch very much television. Broadcasting corporations don’t really cater for my tastes and commercial stations are nauseating because you get meaningless adverts every 15 minutes; the advertising industry is really over-regarded and badly regulated. I’ll watch the odd documentary, Have I Got News for You, Crystal Palace appearing on Match of the Day and Dr Who, though I’m still unsure about Peter Capaldi. I think his Doctor has potential and this potential is helped by some more sinister storylines but I think I may be getting a bit old to make time to watch the programme. I think Matt Smith initially carried the sonic screwdriver pretty well but towards the end of his tenure I was less convinced of his suitability for the role. The writing and Who mythology weaving is admirable and, as fantasy series go, it’s pleasant escapism and easily watchable and touches on that evasive quality of ‘Englishness’ but when I start actively thinking about the suitability of the actor in the lead role, then it’s probably time to move on.

My wife is responsible for informing me of programmes that I should watch, so I was a bit shocked when I got a text from my friend Mark Franchetti yesterday, hoping that I was watching the Genesis evening on BBC2. I’ve known Mark since university and though his musical taste is far, far removed from mine (rock ‘n’ roll) his wife Gina is into progressive rock and has accompanied me on many a mission to seek out and enjoy live prog. The Franchettis frequently remind me of impending musical documentaries but I’ve normally been handed the TV remote and left to get on with it. Yesterday was different but the by-line in the Radio Times may provide Susan with an excuse; the Saturday Choices article on Genesis: Together and Apart begins: “At the vanguard of prog, uncaring of cool, Genesis wrote radio unfriendly epics about lawnmowers and failed Scottish uprisings” but concludes “while the tediously de rigueur rock-doc dissing of the group’s early oeuvre – for many, a thing of rich musicality – is largely shunned.” She may have misread this as meaning the early material was overlooked in the documentary because, when I switched over to watch the programme, 20 minutes or so after it had started, they were just skipping through Selling England on to The Lamb.

This period coincides with the start of my personal appreciation of the band. School friends Alan Lee and Geoff Hinchley were more into Genesis and my first purchase, in 1976, was the token gesture Genesis Live as a cut out distributed by Buddah Records because it covered their early history. I don’t remember where I picked up this item. It seems unlikely that Barrow had any record stores dealing in cut-outs so my guess would be that I bought it in Leeds, possibly Virgin Records, when I went to visit brother Tony at uni. I subsequently went to see Genesis twice, in Liverpool on the Wind and Wuthering tour and at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1982, after winning tickets in a Capital Radio competition. Part of this prize was a signed copy of Three Sides Live, which had been released four months earlier and which I later sold to a friend, Mike Chavez, for £5.

From the moment I began watching the documentary, the narrative closely followed that set out in Mike Rutherford’s autobiography The Living Years and Rutherford seemed to have more to say than the other members of the band. Steve Hackett barely featured, only commenting once after Peter Gabriel had told us that he’d often been congratulated for A Trick of the Tale. There was no mention of Bill Bruford. Not surprisingly, when you look at the Genesis timeline, there was a great dealmore about the post-Hackett Genesis which was of much less interest to me as they slid from prog greats to exceptionally successful middle-of-the-road soft rock. The definitive turning point, in my opinion, is the inclusion of Afterglow as the last track on Wind and Wuthering. Rutherford describes this album as displaying the feminine side of Genesis (he also labels Tony Banks’ chords as feminine) and though musically Afterglow comes across as prog, lyrically it’s venturing into the mundane. There’s no doubt that this lyrical style became more prevalent over the later releases and the complex, multi-section compositions with fantastical or mythical concepts were dropped. Prog isn’t about bearing your soul after a divorce, however painful, that’s more the realm of a more accessible rock medium like the Blues. Rutherford’s belief that he should handle guitar duties was originally somewhat misplaced but he developed a rather mechanical style of picking chords that came to represent a lot of 80s guitar playing; such that it was almost impossible to discern the songs he was playing in Genesis from those he was playing in Mike + The Mechanics. This process was compounded by the reduction in distinct keyboard sounds utilised by both Tony Banks and the Mechanics’ Adrian Lee and the generic soft rock available on the fledgling MTV. Some of the Genesis videos were truly awful.

I managed to watch the missing part of the programme which did include a few more words from Steve Hackett on BBC’s iPlayer. This included thoughts from original guitarist Anthony Phillips and another Charterhouse alumnus, friend and former road manager Richard Macphail. There was some archival footage of the band playing at the Atomic Sunrise festival at London’s Roundhouse, the only video documentation of Genesis with Phillips and drummer John Mayhew.

Despite what appears to be some unresolved rivalry between Peter Gabriel and Tony Banks, it was good to hear Gabriel talking about the band. The film was supplemented by commentary from comedian Al Murray, New Statesman arts critic Kate Mossman, author, former actor and stand-up comedian Mark Billingham, music journalist Chris Roberts and radio DJ Angie Greaves. Mossman interviewed Peter Gabriel for the New Statesman in October last year and she added some useful insight and analysis; the others offered opinion, Murray quite happy with the later, more commercial material.

The idea of Genesis, together and apart, was quite good but still left me feeling slightly unsatisfied. Hackett’s solo work, currently touring Genesis Revisited, was totally overlooked. I rate Voyage of the Acolyte, which features both Rutherford and Collins and easily conforms to prog form circa 1975, as good as A Trick of the Tail and better than Wind and Wuthering and all that came after. He’s the only one of the band that seems to regard their early 70s material as music that continues to deserve an airing, something that would have been worthwhile for the documentary to highlight.


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