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There's something of a fixation on Norway amongst a proportion of the British public at the moment.

Unfortunately I don't think it's related to Norwegian prog...

By ProgBlog, Feb 4 2019 10:27PM

Whether by conscious choice or directed drift, the latter part of 2018 saw me adopt what the media are calling ‘flexitarianism’. My son had started out on this road towards the end of last year but quickly shifted to a full vegan diet and when he’s invited to dinner, I prepare vegan food for the whole family.


Not yet prepared to give up meat entirely, this casual vegetarianism is an attempt to reduce my carbon footprint by taking a more environmentally sustainable approach to what I eat by consuming less meat. For someone who shuns almost all fast food (I eat supermarket pizza, occasionally go to pizza restaurants, I might have takeaway fish and chips once every couple of months or buy-in an Indian takeaway perhaps twice a year) and is entirely happy in the kitchen, it’s not as onerous as many might imagine. If statistics are to be believed, 26% of Millennials are either vegan or vegetarian and supermarkets, eager to maintain market share, have been quick to produce suitable ranges of ready-to-cook vegan dishes; the fad has also been matched by the availability of varied recipes. I mostly cook from scratch which means it’s fortunate that the Co-op, our nearest supermarket, is one of the better outlets for identifying vegan produce but it’s equally handy that Coughlans, our local bakery chain, has an extensive range of vegan cakes. My first visit to Coughlans with the specific aim of buying an appropriate treat for my son involved an almost conspiratorial approach from another customer, a young woman who asked me if I was vegan like her and her young son; I fear she was a little disappointed with my truthful response that I hadn’t increased the number of vegans in Addiscombe. Rather than go the full extreme, I attempt to eat a balanced diet and if my comparative zoology lectures taught me anything when I was a student, we have the ideal dentition for an omnivorous diet, although I admire anyone who chooses to go vegan for ethical reasons. The recent family skiing holiday to Bardonecchia showed how well veganism has spread; I needn’t have feared that we weren’t going to find suitable foodstuffs to cook on the two hotplates and small oven that served as our apartment kitchenette – Carrefour (which has a supermarket near-monopoly in the resort) carried a wide range of alternatives, including one awarded a ‘product of the year’, for our vegan skier.




The best known examples of prog vegetarians are Yes. It’s well documented that in the early 70s all the members of the band bar Rick Wakeman, along with many of their road crew, stopped eating meat, initially influenced by producer Eddie Offord who was already into health foods. This chimes with the cosmic image of Jon Anderson, the man primarily responsible for the band’s mystically-themed lyrics and concepts which include recurring motifs of environmentalism, pacifism and pantheism. Anderson let his vegetarianism slip, though in a 2006 interview with Howard Stern he spoke of maintaining a healthy diet. In fact it was Steve Howe who was the first of the band to stop eating meat and continues to maintain this stance; In the January 1992 edition of Vegetarian Times he related that the group was in New York during the 1972 Fragile tour when he ordered his last chicken dinner but was unable to eat it.



I’m not sure what the musical equivalent of flexitarianism is, but over the last couple of weeks I’ve allowed myself to be exposed to genres other than symphonic prog and progressivo Italiano, from a Philip Glass CD received as a Christmas present to the protest folk-psyche of Twilight Fields who invited me to listen to their forthcoming release Songs from the Age of Ruin which featured in a recent ProgBlog DISCovery post (their track Prologue: The Ruined City is included on the covermount CD of Prog 95). The lesson is clear, although it’s unlikely to have any environmental impact: it’s good to listen to a wide spectrum of musical genres.




Compared to last year, live prog has not yet featured heavily in my schedule for 2019 but the two events I have attended were not run-of-the-mill gigs. A last-minute decision to see London-based electronica musician Amané Suganami (who performs under the stage name Amane) at Camden Assembly for an event tagged as ‘the spirit of Brian Eno’ was my first ever prog date and the first time I’d gone to a gig with my wife since Chris Rea at Wembley Arena in December 1988! Strictly sticking to Eno’s ambient music with interpretations of Ambient 1: Music for Airports, Ambient 2: The Plateaux of Mirror (with Harold Budd); Ambient 3: Day of Radiance (Laraaji, produced by Eno) and Apollo: Atmospheres & Soundtracks, of which I only recognised An Ending (Ascent) from the latter, this was an enjoyable, well-attended event with a distinctly un-prog demographic, spoiled only by the suggested start time of 7pm – doors were at 7.30 and the performance began at 8pm.



The second event wasn’t really a gig and it wasn’t strictly live; it was Steve Hackett’s At the Edge of Light album preview held at the Everyman cinema in Crystal Palace, a run-through of the record in 5.1 surround sound four days before the official release, organised by Prog Magazine and Inside Out records. I ‘won’ tickets by sending Prog a selfie, holding a copy of Prog 94 with Steve Hackett on the cover, taken in my dining room (photos of the magazine taken in newsagents were disallowed!) I’d been to two King Crimson playbacks in the mid-late 90s for the releases of the Epitaph box set and The Night Watch CDs, both unmissable because they were relatively small gatherings of like-minded fans and featured the assembly of the musicians responsible for the performances but which also included fascinating side events: the offering of home-made cakes (I baked a date and walnut loaf); a Mellotron display; and John Wetton performing a solo acoustic version of Book of Saturday. An even more exclusive gathering, the At the Edge of Light playback was a chance to hear the latest Steve Hackett release before the general public and had the distinct advantage of being held on my doorstep, a short 410 bus journey from home.



When I lived in Crystal Palace/Upper Norwood the former Rialto Cinema, opened in 1928, was being used as a bingo hall. The cinema had shown its last film in 1968 and Gala Bingo, in a restructuring exercise following diminishing profits and questionable financial viability partly blamed on the 2007 ban on smoking in enclosed public spaces, closed the premises sometime around 2009. It was bought by Kingsway International Christian Centre but they failed to gain planning permission for change of use to an evangelical church partly because the development would result in the loss of an important leisure venue, deemed to be "harmful to the social, cultural and economic characteristics of the area." Repurposing as a church also incurred opposition from an active local group, founded in 2010, who campaigned to return the prominent Art Deco building to its original function and so, with the building listed as an asset of social value (ASV) ensuring KICC had no prospect of planning approval, they decided to sell up in 2017.

The building has been lovingly restored and given a new lease of life by Everyman, with the original main auditorium divided up to form four screens. Screen 4, the venue for the playback, seats 75 on plush two-seater sofas and provided a warm, intimate setting for the event. I had wondered why Hackett and the record label had chosen Everyman Crystal Palace but Steve Hackett’s live film Wuthering Nights: Live in Birmingham was given a screening at Everyman King’s Cross on 15th Jan 2018, prior to its official release eleven days later; Marillion’s 2017 Royal Albert Hall concert film was screened at Everyman cinemas around the country in March 2018 prior to the release of the DVD/Blu-ray for home consumption; and Steven Wilson held a pre-release screening of Home Invasion at Everyman King’s Cross last October. There’s a rumour that someone high up in the Everyman organisation is partial to prog...


It’s unclear how many ordinary punters were present, not industry insiders from Inside Out music or Prog magazine or members of the Hackett family (Steve’s wife, Jo; brother and collaborator John; their mother; aunt Betty) but regardless of status we were all treated to a signed card from Steve and some Green & Black’s chocolate. Prog magazine editor Jerry Ewing commenced proceedings with a short introduction, declaring At the Edge of Light the best offering from Hackett for 20 years; he handed over the mic to Hackett who thanked quite a few people present and said a little bit about the music and the guest musicians, and then we settled down to listen.


Having already watched three available YouTube videos and being fully aware of Hackett’s diverse styles through building up a comprehensive library of his recorded output, I wasn’t surprised by any of the material. It’s a natural successor to Night Siren though with a more cohesive sound despite the eclectic mix and, as Ewing suggested, probably his best album for many years. The fact that it’s not all-out prog is one of the album’s strengths, the eclecticism providing an almost commercial level of accessibility but without being ‘commercial’. My least favourite track was Underground Railroad although I do love the story of the inspiration behind the song. It was written following a visit to Wilmington, Delaware, where he found out about the network that helped slaves escape in pre-Civil War America, spearheaded by people like Harriet Tubman; it’s just that I’m not a great fan of the Blues or, however well it’s played, harmonica.

I thought that there were a number of highlights; from the brief opening tune Fallen Walls and Pedestals with its archetypal guitar sound to the prog mini-epic Those Golden Wings to the three numbers forming a kind of suite closing the album, Descent which channels Holst or King Crimson, Conflict, and Peace but the overall quality of song writing on the album is really high, including the infectious prog-pop of The Hungry Years! At times I was reminded of Cured-era Hackett which I think has a distinct overall sound. On completion of the album presentation he remained in the auditorium and chatted to the attendees, graciously posing for selfies with fans.



More than just the music, I admire Hackett’s viewpoint, expressed in both Prog 94 and in his explanation for the album’s title. He described the thread linking the songs as different interpretations of the contrast between light and dark, expressed at its most basic on Beasts in Our Time as good versus evil, but also the more mystical interplay of dark and light magically combining in cultures such as that which provides the heartbeat of India (Shadow and Flame). In summary, Hackett takes a hopeful stance: “In these dangerous times, deep shadows feel even sharper than usual and we find ourselves standing at the edge of light. Ultimately, this album embraces the need for all musical forms and cultures to connect and celebrate the wonder of unity in this divided world."


I think it’s time for us all to go culturally flexitarian.









By ProgBlog, Jan 16 2018 08:52PM

I’m just back from a couple of days skiing in Chamonix, what I hope will turn out to be a warm-up event to a full week somewhere else later in the year. The town itself is very pleasant and though I’ve skied in the area three times before, we’ve always been based a little higher up the valley in Argentière and whereas we’d previously driven down to the resort, this time we flew to Geneva and took a transfer from there. We’d drive through Chamonix at the beginning and end of holidays and to get to some of the ski areas, scattered from just south of the town up to Balme at the head of the valley; we’ve even stopped there to see a screening of the second of the Lord of the Rings films, The Two Towers in English. So for the first time since our inaugural trip in March 2000, I managed to get a feel for the place, somewhere I’d read about in climbing accounts by Don Whillans, Joe Brown and Dougal Haston when I was a youth and somewhere I felt I knew well enough to base one of my O Level English Language exam essays.


Chamonix
Chamonix

I’m pretty sure there has been a lot of change since I read mountaineering books in the mid-70s, a time when young rock climbers used to name routes after prog tracks: The Gates of Delirium grade E4 (6a), described by UK Climbing as ‘magnificent’, Relayer (another E4) and Close to the Edge E3 (5c) are all climbs on Raven Crag, Thirlmere, in the Lake District and there’s also a Gates of Delirium in Yosemite; Genesis are represented by Hairless Heart, a grade E5 (5c) slab climb on Froggatt Edge in Derbyshire first ascended, solo, by John Allen in 1975 but there are others. There’s a thread from 2012, now closed down, on the UK Climbing site which asked why “an unnaturally high proportion of route names reference Pink Floyd, other dubious prog rock, or Tolkien.” The one sensible answer suggested that prog coincided with an explosion of new routes, though I did like the response “What's wrong with Prog rock? Or J.R.R. Tolkien? Many people have been inspired by the writings of Tolkien and the music of Pink Floyd, Genesis, Rush, Led Zeppelin, Yes etc. The fact is that both tend to ramble on a bit, but are ultimately rewarding in the end.” The erection of a new sports hall at my school included a short, under-used climbing wall and along with a couple of others I was allowed to climb during PE lessons. Access to Lake District routes in Coniston and Langdale was facilitated by Honda 550, with me sitting pillion and carrying the gear but I wasn’t nearly as good at climbing as I’d hoped. However, progressive rock and rock climbing seemed intrinsically linked as I flicked through Crags and High magazines listening to Alan Freeman’s Saturday Show on the radio, ticking off another prog-inspired route name.



I imagine there has also been some considerable change since I was last in Chamonix in 2005, even though the journey through Argentière up to La Tour was punctuated with familiar buildings. As someone who fully subscribes to the Italian version of coffee culture and will quite willingly frequent the sort of independent coffee shop that plagues hip areas of London and London commuter towns, I’ve found it difficult but not impossible to locate a decent espresso on my last couple of skiing trips to France. Last year, Val d’Isère had the Arctic Cafe and this year we found La Jonction Coffee, set up by two people who couldn’t find a decent coffee... The name of the cafe refers to the confluence of the Glacier des Bossons and Glacier de Taconnaz above the town at 2589m.
I imagine there has also been some considerable change since I was last in Chamonix in 2005, even though the journey through Argentière up to La Tour was punctuated with familiar buildings. As someone who fully subscribes to the Italian version of coffee culture and will quite willingly frequent the sort of independent coffee shop that plagues hip areas of London and London commuter towns, I’ve found it difficult but not impossible to locate a decent espresso on my last couple of skiing trips to France. Last year, Val d’Isère had the Arctic Cafe and this year we found La Jonction Coffee, set up by two people who couldn’t find a decent coffee... The name of the cafe refers to the confluence of the Glacier des Bossons and Glacier de Taconnaz above the town at 2589m.

I didn’t expect to see any record shops in Val d’Isère but I did think there might have been one in Chamonix, with its population of around 9000, a little less than that of Auray where I bought my first Ange CD Le Cimetière des Arlequins (from 1973.) Unfortunately there weren’t any so apart from listening to Semiramis’ Frazz Live (2017) on my mp3 player, the only music I got to hear was piped from restaurants and on one occasion, a truly awful singer-guitarist at the Irish Coffee bar across the road from our hotel. I don’t have much winter- or snow related music in my collection; I own a copy of Rick Wakeman’s White Rock (1977), the soundtrack to the official film of the 1976 Innsbruck winter Olympics and regard it as a return to form after Journey to the Centre of the Earth and The Myths and Legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. My favourite track is Lax’x and my next favourite is the definitive prog track on the album, Ice Run but there are a number of snippets of music used in the film that form a sonic link between the different Olympic disciplines that don’t appear on album tracks, some of which are very Yes-sounding. The album’s instrumentation of keyboards, percussion and choral backing provides an effective, coherent narrative that works well for both audio and cinematic formats, linked by the melodic ‘searching for gold’ keyboard motif. I really like Wakeman’s full use of a range of keyboards and think it’s that which makes the album stand out from its immediate predecessors; there’s a much broader range of tonality, even though there’s no guitar or bass guitar.


Wakeman was an integral part of the band for Fragile (1971), as Yes came close to perfection. Roundabout, with its imagery of mountains that ‘come out of the sky’ from ‘in and around the lake’ could represent somewhere like the Lake District or the Swiss Alps but this doesn’t necessarily suggest winter, unlike the lyrics to the angular, driving and somewhat overlooked South Side of the Sky with its message that natural forces can be brutal. It’s ironic that White Rock was recorded in Wembley but when Wakeman rejoined Yes in late 1976, the band had decamped to Mountain Studios in Montreux, Switzerland to record Going for the One (1977), where Wakeman subsequently recorded 1977’s Criminal Record.

ELP were another band who combined a tax-break with recording in Montreux for parts of Works Volume 1 (1977) and though Fanfare for the Common Man wouldn’t normally fit into a ‘winter’ category, the video for the truncated version released as a single which reached no.2 in the UK charts was filmed in the futuristic Montreal Olympic Stadium (where they were rehearsing for the Works tour in a basement car park) after Greg Lake emerged from rehearsals for a breath of fresh air and was immediately struck by the vision of the snow-covered arena.


Another apt piece of music that I own is Winterthrough (2005) by Höstsonaten, part of a season-themed set of luscious melodic symphonic Italian prog albums. The standout track is Rainsuite which also featured in Fabio Zuffanti’s Z Band set list; it’s made up of a number of linked melodies which I think puts it in the Focus or Camel bracket. Camel had their own winter-related mini-epic Ice from I Can See Your House from Here (1979) which I hummed to myself on the skiing trip as we visited an ice cave carved into the Mer de Glace. Both the ice cave and the track have a stately beauty; witnessing Camel play the track live when they were promoting the album and the experience of being inside a glacier had a similar awe-inspiring effect on me.



The story of Fang in White Mountain, my second favourite Trespass (1970) track after The Knife, is an obvious snow-related story but is One for the Vine from Wind and Wuthering (1976), enough of a winter- or snow and ice themed song to count in my list? One of the songs being played at a restaurant where we stopped for a late morning chocolat chaud certainly doesn’t fit into the list but it did force me to reconsider my opinion of reggae. I’m obviously aware of the significance of Bob Marley who, after the demise of The Wailers in 1974 relocated to England and, with music infused with spirituality, became not only a multi-million selling artist and also came to symbolise Jamaican culture and identity, letting a ray of Caribbean sunshine into the world, but I don’t go out of my way to listen to reggae. What I heard that morning at Les Houches, played at decent volume through Bose speakers seemed like a long single track, divided into subsections rather like prog. A quick Shazam app search revealed that part of the song was Rastafari Leads the Way by Lutan Fyah and I suspect that the music was a Warrior Musick production Think Twice Riddim, featuring a host of different artists with an amazing, positive vibe; a rejection of violence and a call to rethink a way of life which chimed with the ethos of progressive rock. The sun was shining, the snow conditions were perfect and I was skiing some long and some challenging runs with my family, and a little bit of reggae made it even better.



Perfect skiing conditions at Les Houches
Perfect skiing conditions at Les Houches






By ProgBlog, Mar 5 2017 11:00PM

ProgBlog wasn’t posted last week due to the annual skiing holiday, this year undertaken by only two Pages, father and son. Booking a skiing trip inevitably involves a degree of chance, including will the weather be good for skiing and will there be sufficient snow to last the full week. There are other unknowns, too, such as the quality of the accommodation if, like us, you resort hop from year-to-year to experience different places.

Planning the trip normally relies on synchronising three diaries and taking into account Crystal Palace FC home fixtures, gig bookings and avoiding both UK and French/Italian/Austrian school holidays and everything has to be completed before the end of the financial year – for one of us working in local government finance.

We used to drive to the French Alps but for the last 10 years or so we’ve booked with a high street tour operator. Driving was fun. You could take whatever you needed and, as the family has similar musical tastes, turn the journey into one long progressive rock show. I downsized my car in 2008 and went without a car between 2012 and 2013 before getting an even smaller car which has effectively ruled out self-drive. Also, even when we set out on a Friday evening and stayed overnight at a budget hotel in northern France, the section of road approaching the Geneva turn-off first became a crawl and then a solid line of steel and aluminium, so now we fly.

Given the good-natured family relationship, built on a love of prog and a love of skiing, choosing a suitable destination ought to be easy but we do tend to book fairly late. With Google searches notching up the price of a holiday (unless you delete your Chrome browsing history) the choice is facilitated through a multitude of browsing tabs directed to different tour operators and TripAdvisor reviews. The range of reviews on offer needs to be carefully dissected and put into context. Some people like to ski and party and therefore just need somewhere basic to rest; some like home comforts and will criticise the noise from the street outside as revellers (see above) return to their rooms at 3am. We like something large enough to spread out a little and though we’re used to self-catering, we’re equally happy to be catered for... ...as long as it’s not a chalet!

This year I went back to Val d’Isère, having been there previously in 2003. This was my son’s first visit but I knew that he’d find enough skiing because the area is huge. We had been tempted by the cheaper Tignes as a lift pass combines both Tignes and Val d’Isère, at least partly because of the architecture but the accommodation was some way down the valley and was therefore a less attractive proposition. We booked an apartment in Alpina Lodge, very close to the central lift hub of the village, and were pleased to find it a good-sized suite intended to accommodate 6-8 people. I don't know if this was a post- EU referendum effect associated with the devaluation of Sterling compared to the Euro but Val d’Isère is a resort traditionally associated with the British and though English probably remained the dominant language in resort, the flight out from Gatwick was not full. However, I was quite happy to be put up in a space big enough for eight and I'd never been in self-catering accommodation of this standard before; there was a mezzanine bedroom, there were two bathrooms and even the cooker had four rings! Whereas I'm used to packing out my ski bag with cleaning materials and toilet rolls, Alpina Lodge was run on hotel lines with a mid-week clean, a plentiful supply of towels and complimentary toiletries. Luxury!

The wifi in the rooms was not brilliant but we were able to download films onto a tablet to watch after cooking and eating. We ate out on two nights; the first was at Flash Pizza, a recommendation by the Crystal rep. You'd expect ski reps to know the cheapest places to drink in resort but you might not be interested in their choice of restaurant. However, Flash Pizza turned out to be a tiny, cosy and friendly restaurant with a good choice of pizzas and though it would have been best to book, we managed to get seats at the bar after having to wait only 5 minutes. I had a Bailletta (tomato, mozzarella, goat’s cheese, walnuts and honey) which came perfectly baked; a thin crust on the well-done part of the spectrum and at €13 for a pizza 33cm diameter, the price for Val d'Isère was very reasonable. The ultimate recommendation came from the chef at one of the more established restaurants in the village – our intended destination for the last evening - who arrived to pick up his takeaway on his night off and stayed for a glass of wine and a chat. We didn’t get to eat at the Taverna d’Alsace because once again, we failed to book a table. Not booking a restaurant for the final evening of a skiing trip is madness, something we’ve done (or not done) on other trips. Fortunately, we could see another restaurant from the front door and made our way through the snow to La Casserole. A board outside indicated there was no break in service so fitting in two people at 6pm was not a problem.

La Casserole served local fare and the specialities, not surprisingly, were casseroles. The beef in my casserole, cooked in a local red wine, was presented in large chunks which melted in your mouth; genuinely lovely, filling home-cooked food. We also chose to indulge in dessert, both choosing a massive crème brûleé flavoured with vanilla, a hint of lime and bourbon and served in a special dish: A dessert to die for.



The first two days of skiing we undertaken in excellent conditions – clear blue skies and the occasional cloud and firm snow. Sadly, conditions on days 3, 4 and 5 included some of the worst mountain weather I’ve experienced where blizzards and flat light made progress very difficult. My poor eyesight means I’ve been known to fall over backwards from standing still when I’ve not been able to see features on the piste. We did manage to do some skiing on each of those days but in my case it was a genuine struggle.


Day 6 dawned bright and we set off for the furthest point in the area, the Aiguilles Percee beyond Tignes. This is a rock wall with needle-like features and an amazing quirk of geology, a natural arch in the rock which looks like some sort of cosmic space-time portal, accessible with a minor off-piste excursion. A full day ended with reduced light and strong winds, blowing away powder from the ungroomed pistes; a successful venture despite the reduced time on the slopes.



Downtime during the day when we were unable to get onto the mountains was spent preparing a postcard story, listening to music on my mp3 player, and going in search of coffee. The spread of independent coffee shops in the UK is taken for granted but, outside of Italy, mainland Europe is lagging behind and for those of us who rely on a good roast bean nicely prepared, the alternatives are rarely worth bothering with.

Fortunately for us, we found Arctic Cafe which does mountain energy foods, smoothies and organic coffee which was as good as anything you'd get in Shoreditch; a really well prepared espresso shot that we sought out every day and twice during the morning we were waiting for our transfer out of resort.


Ski playlist:

A Saucerful of Secrets – Pink Floyd

Fragile – Yes

In ogni luogo – Finisterre

Equatorial Array – Gareth Page

Invention of Knowledge – Anderson-Stolt

La Coscienza di Zeno - La Coscienza di Zeno

Meddle – Pink Floyd

Red - King Crimson










By ProgBlog, Mar 22 2015 07:20PM

I've just spent a fantastic week on the slopes around Sauze d'Oulx - the annual family skiing trip - with my son Daryl and brother Richard. One slightly irritating feature of a holiday in a ski resort is the music - you get pop hits from decades ago (Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Want to Have Fun; The Bangles' Walk Like an Egyptian; Take On Me by A-Ha; Olivia Newton-John singing Take Me Home, Country Roads) or timeless, bland 120bpm Europop that could have been an Ibiza anthem from 1999 or a Val d'Isere hit from 2005. This stream of rubbish is an insult to everyone. Sauze d'Oulx is in Italy, home to some diverse and brilliant prog. My first time skiing was a couple of valleys away from Sauze in Bardonecchia and the live band at the hotel kindly played a PFM song, rather well, when we submitted a request. So how prog is skiing?

The old insult slung at prog is that it's elitist. I don't agree with this sentiment despite the fact that a fair number of both major and minor protagonists have had formal training to a high level; skiing could also be called an elitist sport though this no longer holds true as cheap air fares and package holidays have opened up resorts to all comers. Of course, some resorts are more exclusive than others... Prog and skiing both require technical mastery and rely on equipment that has evolved to enable boundaries to be pushed further and further back, whether that's sonic creativity or shaving fractions of seconds off downhill timings; both disciplines require practice if you wish to advance. An annual skiing holiday of 6 days on-piste is not really sufficient to gain and maintain expertise but when you’re based in Croydon and work full-time in central London it’s the best I can do. It’s taken 16 weeks over 17 years to get me to my level of proficiency, an advanced intermediate. The runs above Sauze were perfect for providing a reasonable challenge, consisting primarily of reds and blacks but long trails, which tend to be the easier blue and green categories, can still provide an enjoyable excursion. I see the thrill of successfully descending a precipitous slope as being comparable to the feeling that’s generated when you’ve mastered a particularly difficult riff or musical phrase, perhaps in an unusual time signature and, in a similar vein, skiing a scenic route through changing scenery is equivalent to an uplifting melody. In truth, I am inspired by mountain landscape and it’s the imagined worlds conjured by symphonic prog music and lyrics that I find so compelling about progressive rock, be it Yes from Fragile, Close to the Edge or Tales from Topographic Oceans or Höstsonaten with Winterthrough; if I can’t be outside in a mountain environment, there’s a suitable substitute indoors listening to prog.

A few years ago Daryl and I were based in Livigno for our week, a resort organised as a series of villages along a high valley, famous for its odd tax free status and home to Birrificio, the highest brewery in Europe where they brew a small rage of excellent beers under the name 1816 Livigno and with the symbol of an Eagle, not unlike the CPFC Eagle. Practically speaking, Livigno has an exceptional snow record with a season that extends beyond almost all other European resorts. Better still, in the lower reaches of the resort we discovered two record stores. There was a smattering of progressivo Italiano on offer but sadly, I already owned this material (Disco Music Livigno, Via Plan, 379, 23030 Livigno).

I’ve managed to get through quite a lot of clothing and equipment in 17 years. We all have our own skis and boots; the potential outlay for ski hire equipment makes it economic sense to buy your own but, more than this, the comfort of fitted boots gives you more confidence and the sport becomes increasingly effortless. There were major technological advances in music that allowed the development of progressive rock and like prog exponents and sonic explorers, ski technology has also progressed and now not only incorporates new materials and, within my time as a participant of the sport, the shape of the skis has also changed, creating the ‘carving turn’.

I used to go to play squash and go to the staff club gym at Guy’s in an attempt to physically prepare for skiing; until last year this had evolved into strictly more frequent games of squash, then they sold off the squash courts for a new development on Borough High Street. I’ve never used a dry ski slope (I remember the matting that would have formed this facility in Crystal Palace Park, which I might have used had it still been there) and getting to a snow dome always seemed too much of an unnecessary trek but, like performing exercises on a musical instrument, getting fit for skiing is important.

There are different varieties of skiing: downhill; slalom; cross country; ski cross; ski touring and then there’s even skiing’s rebellious sibling – snowboarding. If downhill equates to the jazz rock side of prog, a technically proficient, breathtaking sprint to the finishing line and slalom to the intricate twists and turns of Gentle Giant, perhaps cross country skiing is the sweeping panorama of symphonic prog and ski touring the ultimate expression of difficulty and perseverance: Zeuhl. And snowboarding? That’s got to be prog metal!



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