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Queen, Joni Mitchell, Keith Jarrett, Magma, Vangelis, Chris Squire & more; Fifty Year Friday: November and December 1975

Queen: Night at the Opera

Released in November of 1975, Night at the Opera starts with the excitement of an ocean voyage — we hear arpeggiated waves from the piano, whale rumblings from the bass, bird cries and seagull squawks from multitracked guitar breaking into soft strains of a tango quickly turning into heavy metal. This is Freddie Mercury the composer at the height of his craft.

After having purchased three Queen albums already, the first thing I did when I brought this album home in December of 1975 was note which tracks were attributed to Mercury — this served as indicators to what tracks would impress me the most. That turned out to be an effective predictor, but, importantly, the rest of the band’s contributions were some of their very best songs, making this album packed with classic material from start to the pinnacle of the album, the penultimate track, “Bohemian Rhapsody” — one of those rare instances in rock since the Beatles had disbanded where a truly great work of music made its way from legendary status with serious listeners, musicians, and dedicated fans to legendary status with the general public, even though, perhaps as expected, it took some time to do so.

And just as the Beatles elevated their work with multi-track musical enhancements, so too did Queen elevate Night at the Opera to a precisely rendered set of cohesive numbers that deservedly live up to the album’s title. Now, don’t get me wrong — we have an amazing musical diversity on this album — with such diversity in just Mercury’s compositions — but we add to that “I’m in Love with My Car”, “You’re My Best Friend,” the vaudevillian “Good Company” with ukulele and outstanding guitar accompaniment, and “The Prophet’s Song” with its brilliant use of deceptively simple imitative counterpoint, and it’s pretty easy to understand how Night at the Opera more than holds its own today as a timeless classic.

Keith Jarrett : The Köln Concert

One of my favorite possessions was the triple LP Keith Jarrett Solo Concerts: Bremen/Lausanne which I had purchased with Christmas money in 1973. It was just incredible to have a three LP set of piano improvisation of such high quality. Given that, I am puzzled why I never bought The Köln Concert until the complete version made its way on to CD around 1984.

Recorded live in January of 1975, The Köln Concert was released in late November of 1975, the album starts off plaintively in the style of the quiet Americana reflectiveness so well done by classical composers like Aaron Copland and Roy Harris. For the first improvisation, Jarrett leans heavily on repetitive phrases and ostinato-like patterns to continue to move the music forward, flowing as if driven by stream of consciousness, yet always compelling and logical, deftly avoiding lingering too long in any single style, texture, or mode of emotional expression as the music logically unfolds.

The second piece, broken up onto three sides of the double LP album, is dramatically different in tone and character. Like the first improvisation, it evades any simple stylistic labels sometimes flirting into rock piano improvisation. Where the first improvisation was reflective, the second is inexhaustibly joyous and intensely rhythmically as Jarrett turns the piano into a percussive engine, hammering out a powerful, trance-like groove with his left hand that is pure, ecstatic energy. This propulsive marathon of invention continues through Part IIb, before finally dissolving and making way for the famous encore, “Part IIc.” After all the complex fireworks, this final piece is a moment of breathtaking, lyrical grace — a simple, hymn-like melody that releases all the tension and remains one of the most beautiful themes Jarrett ever played.

The music makes this performance legendary, but like the most interesting legends, it has an almost mythical backstory. Jarrett had specifically requested a Bösendorfer 290 Imperial concert grand. Unfortunately, what was made available on the stage was a baby grand rehearsal piano in such bad condition that Jarrett had initially refused to play on it. The requested piano was in storage and due to horrid weather was not able to safely replace the inferior piano. So Jarrett was forced to confront the rehearsal piano, an unsuitable, tinny, and out-of-tune practice piano he tested during the afternoon of the concert and was so dissatisfied with it he almost threw the towel in performing that evening. The promoter finally convinced him that he had a responsibility to play as best as he could for a sell-out crowd and somehow do his best to deal with the inadequacies of the inferior rehearsal piano. Jarrett went forward with the performance and it was this limitation, this ‘bad instrument,’ that forced Jarrett to navigate that evening’s improvisations into new territory, compelling him to avoid the shrill upper register notes and the weak lower bass notes, replacing the harmonic function of the latter with lower middle register accompaniment patterns and repetitive ostinatos — thus creating the distinctive style that unifies the music of this remarkable performance.

Joni Mitchell: The Hissing of Summer Lawns

Released in November of 1975, The Hissing of Summer Lawns finds Joni Mitchell presiding over one of the most seamless marriages of lyrics and music of the 1970s. The poetry here is evocative and ironic, crafting memorable metaphors and unforgettable images. It’s often said that when constraints are placed on artists, they often produce their best work. For an artist who had previously written music around pre-existing lyrics to then make that shift over to the craft of fitting words into already composed music, one might expect a change in character — or at least in lyrical texture. Beginning around 1973 or 1974, Mitchell’s lyrics indeed became more fluid, impressionistic, and engaged, so that by the time of this album, she had achieved a near-perfect fusion of music and poetry, with the music among her finest creations.

And how does one classify the sound? One cannot. It draws on pop, rock, folk, and jazz, yet it belongs to none of them. The album charts its own course, allowing space for stellar contributors like Bud Shank and Joe Sample to leave their imprint without overshadowing Mitchell’s vision. The closing track, “Shadows and Light,” brings the album to a transcendent conclusion: a multi-tracked a cappella choir of Mitchell’s voice against a contrasting, processed drone from a Farfisa organ. The result is a kind of sonic cathedral, where light and sound filter through like stained glas — ever shifting, quietly monumental, and filled with a sense of cosmic design.

The entire album is a showcase of extracting equilibrium from motion. The music is built on a strong foundation yet exploratory and liberating. Here we have an artist of the highest level in full command of her gifts, unafraid to blur the lines between song and painting, intellect and intuition. The Hissing of Summer Lawns continues to be an album worth returning to: we achieve familiarity with repeated listenings but never is the magic lessened.

Chris Squire: Fish Out of Water

Another November 1975 release was Chris Squire’s highly accessible, melodic Fish Out of Water. For those like me who couldn’t get enough of the brilliance of Yes’s Fragile, this album was filled with the musical inventiveness and wonderful bass lines that dominated that Yes album. Musicians include Bill Bruford on drums and percussion, with saxophonist Mel Collins on two tracks and Patrick Moraz on bass synthesizer and organ on one track . Squire handles all the vocals, bass guitar, some acoustic twelve-string guitar and electric bass. Special compliments go Andrew Pryce Jackman who provides acoustic and electric piano keyboards and seamlessly integrated orchestration providing the album with additional depth and further contributing to its ebullient vitality. Fish Out of Water is a must-have album for all Yes fans surpassing most of their catalog released after 1975.

Crack the Sky: Crack the Sky

Crack the Sky’s debut was released in limited quantities in November 1975 by the independent label, Lifesong. Is this the biggest accomplishment by this label? Depends on your perspective — Lifesong posthumously re-released several greatest hits albums of Jim Croce material starting in 1976 as well as being responsible for “The Biggest Rock Event of the Decade” — that’s right — the rock opera Spider-Man: Rock Reflections of a Superhero — an album of such popularity that I cannot find any entry for it on Wikipedia, though in fairness, the title was released again twenty-five years later on CD and is currently available on eBay for $49.

Putting Spider-Man historical considerations aside, the Crack in the Sky album, despite its limited distribution, eventually climbed up to spot 161 on the Billboard Charts in February 1976 aided by some airplay in the Baltimore area and more importantly being identified by the Rolling Stone magazine as the debut album of 1975. 

Keyboard player and lead vocalist John Palumbo wrote all the music and lyrics showcasing an eclectic range of styles incorporating sixties pop elements and contemporary progressive rock elements. Both the music and lyrics are generally quirky, with a tongue-in-cheek, often ironic, humor deeply embedded in the lyrics and the music rich with accessible melody. There are musical moments that recall surf music, the Beatles, Procol Harum, early Genesis, and even Gentle Giant. It’s not a particularly well-produced album but it is a lot of fun, and an album that anyone who considers themselves well-versed in the history of rock music should have heard at least once.

Tangerine Dream: Ricochet

Recorded in late October and early November of 1975 in England, partly live at Fairfields Hall in Croydon and partly in the studio, Ricochet was released in December of 1975. It continues that rhythmically intense sequencer-driven signature sound from Rubycon, delivering it with sparkling clarity and focus. The music unfolds logically with a strong sense of overall meaning and purpose, effectively locking in one’s attention and never letting it go. Side One, “Ricochet, Part One” contains studio improvisations and recreations of live performances with side two, “Ricochet, Part Two” being predominantly live.

Vangelis: Heaven and Hell

Released in November of 1975, Heaven and Hell is a mixture of the cinematic, early and modern “classical” music, Greek folk and some elements of progressive rock. The album effectively combines Vangelis’s mastery of synthesizer with orchestra to create a richly themed concept album about the duality of human interaction with good and evil, the light and the darkness of existence. Side One, “Heaven and Hell, Part I”, opens furiously with synthesizer and chorus setting a strong symphonic tone and concludes with vocals by Jon Anderson of Yes segmented with a glorious orchestral and synthesizer interlude. Side Two, “Heaven and Hell, Part II” opens up, contrastingly, darkly and ominously, generally maintaining that mood with the notable interspersion of an exuberant, infectious Greek-influenced folk-dance-like section and its more reflective ending. The musical tone-painting is particularly impressive, effectively supporting side two’s darker thematic premise.

Mike Oldfield: Ommadawn

Released in November of 1975, Ommadawn is Mike Oldfield’s third major symphonic work, following the partly Exorcist-driven phenomenon of Tubular Bells and the expansive, pastoral landscapes of Hergest Ridge. Ommadawn mostly consists of one long work, the title track, divided between the two sides of the original LP with a short additional work at the end. It is this title track that is the gem and centerpiece of the album, excelling in compositional presentation and development of thematic material with the first theme deftly varied, followed by an abruptly effective intrusion of the second theme around the 4:15 mark, which is also skillfully varied. After this exposition of fundamental material, both themes are further developed and extended with a richness of instrumental variety and occasional vocals (using a cleverly altered Irish translation of some simple English words) invoking a tribal sense of community.

The second half of “Ommadawn” is more dramatic with greater musical weight and contrast, further exploring a wondrous world-fusion sound that would soon become a whole sub-genre of music. The highlights here include Paddy Moloney on the Irish equivalent of bagpipes, more properly known as Uilleann pipes, and an uplifting blend of vocals and glockenspiel followed by an Irish-like dance section that brings the work to a close.

For those looking to check this album out, avoid the original mix and go for the sonically spectacular 2010 remix which provides significant clarification and enhancement of individual instruments and provides rich, immersive stereo.

Magma: Live/Hhaï

Released in December of 1975, I bought this album in Germany in 1978, and I was not surprised in the least to find this live album of the French progressive rock group in Germany. Unlike Ange, which had a distinct French coloration to their albums, Magma had a Germanic sound and eschewed the French language to adapt a language more suitable to their music — not German, but — okay let’s break this down.

Christian Vander, son of French jazz pianist Maurice Vander, was born in Paris in 1948. Exposed to both jazz and classical music, he grew up listening to Wagner, Bach and Stravinsky and met several great jazz artists including Chet Baker, who gifted Christian Vander his first drum kit and Elvin Jones who shared his musical expertise. Vander brought all these influences as well as his intense admiration for a number of jazz giants, most particularly John Coltrane, as well as drummers like Art Blakey, Max Roach, Kenny Clarke and Tony Williams. Vander brought all such influences with him, including Coltrane’s searching musical intensity, when he founded Magma in 1969 as Magma’s leader, primary composer, drummer and an important contributing vocalist.

With the formation of Magma, Vander begin the creation of the mythology of Magma concept albums and the appropriate language — Kobaïan, the language of the fictional world of Kobaïa — a distant planet colonized by a group of humans fleeing earth’s moral and ecological collapse. The language’s main function was to provide the appropriate musical sound for Magma’s music and to represent a sacred language of renewal. Its sonic characteristics are starkly different than French, coming closer to Slavic and Germanic patterns, but intrinsically supportive of Vander’s musical ideas, which slowly coalesced into a dark, more teutonic, primitively spiritual style, with texture and timbral/orchestral characteristics eventually significantly influenced by Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana, which Vander first heard in 1972.

This 1975 Live/Hhaï album includes material as early as 1973, all of which represents the mature, dramatic Magma sound prevalent from 1973 on. The original album was a two LP set that could still fit on a standard single CD, but is currently sold as a two CD set. It is available for streaming on the usual sources for anyone wanted to sample this unique music, a music that will retain its excitement, mystery and appeal for centuries to come.

Brian Eno: Another Green World and Discreet Music; Fripp & Eno: Evening Star

In November of 1975, Brian Eno released his third solo studio album, the remarkable Another Green World which, while not as ambient as his upcoming work, is certainly an unconventional pop album full of highly accessible music surrounded with imaginatively unusual context. Eno provides a mix of catchy songs with him on vocals, some amazing guitar work from Robert Fripp, but mostly a level of exotic, quirky arrangements that elevate each and every track. Highly recommend!

In December of 1975, Eno’s fourth studio album is released, Discreet Music, and it is a boldly innovative ambient album. The first side, the title track, is a work of beauty and can be listened to directly or used as effective background music for a range of activities including writing, reading and napping off. The second side is more challenging: three “elastic” arrangements of Pachelbel’s well-known canon where the parts move at different paces — not by chance or performer’s whim but intentionally arranged to distort the relationship of the individual parts and the overall musical experience. One can still hear traces of the original canon — yet each of the three very different arrangements alters the original musical architecture with time-based abstractions that are roughly parallel to distortion concepts in cubism, futurism and surrealism and also seem related to rules-driven processes that are found in works by artists like Paul Klee, Bridget Riley, Sol LeWitt and even those famous rectangle paintings of Piet Mondrian. One also has to give credit to John Cage’s influence which opened up this whole realm of unexpected alterations whether aleatoric or rules-driven.

The most challenging of these three albums, Fripp & Eno’s Evening Star, released also in December of 1975, is another tale of two sides. The first side of four tracks, each with new standard ambient titles, is by far the most accessible and functions very effectively as truly ambient music or even meditative, reflective music, particularly the first, third tracks and fourth tracks “Wind on Water,” “Evensong,” and “Wind on Wind.”

The second side is devoted to a single piece “An Index of Metals” divided up into six tracks. I doubt there are many people that can turn it on in the background and experience a calming or relaxing effect from it. It is filled with tension and not smooth or flowing. I suspect many will just find it plain irritating if using it to relax, read, or write by as it has a somewhat intrusive and ominous character. It is more listening music and needs the attention of an active listener to properly navigate the tension, suspense, and forward progress of the music. The last of the six tracks is the most gritty of all and it ends with the tension decaying as opposed to any resolution. This sets up a nice contrast to some more relaxing ambient music, which would become more and more common and commercially viable thanks to this early work by pioneers like Eno and Fripp.

Category:

Ambient Music, Fifty Year Friday, Folk Rock, jazz, Jazz Rock, Music, Pop, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Tom Waits, Van Der Graaf Generator, Steve Hackett; Fifty Year Friday: September and October 1975

Welcome back to Fifty Year Friday! It is my great pleasure to announce that our first entry is by an esteemed and respected writer who, for reasons we won’t question, has graciously agreed to provide material for us under the nom de guerre of Leo The Deacon. If you can navigate a substantial drop in quality, a few of my own Fifty Year Friday entries follow. Enjoy!

Tom Waits: Nighthawks at the Diner

If ever there was an artist and an album deserving of the rubric sui generis, it is Tom Waits and this, his third album Nighthawks at the Diner. At a time—October 1975—when progressive rock was on the cusp of going to seed, disco was poised to go mainstream, and Wayne Shorter and Chick Corea had set aside post-bop to explore jazz-rock fusion, Waits came out with a two-disc album in which he performs mostly original songs, backed up by a quartet of first-rate Los Angeles jazz sidemen, in front of a small live audience.  As a bookish 20-year-old who never quite embraced rock music—despite the earnest and occasionally successful efforts of the curator of this blog to interest me in such groups as Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, King Crimson, and Gentle Giant—I found Waits’ wry, atmospheric, jazz-inflected compositions  a subversive challenge to the hegemony of rock and roll. Nighthawks appealed not just to the emotions, but to the head. It did not hurt that his profane, salacious, and very funny banter between songs was well calculated to engage the sensibilities of college guys whose weekends, more often than not, were spent in the company of other dateless young men.

So is Nighthawks a jazz production, or a singer/songwriter presentation? Yes. Here’s where it gets interesting, because throughout the performance Waits meanders about the intersection of several genres:  jazz, singer/songwriter compositions, spoken word, a bit of stand-up comedy. Hell, in the cut “Big Joe and Phantom 309” Waits even covers a country-music song by Red Sovine about a ghostly trucker. The entire album is a musical Venn diagram of multiple converging circles. One can’t even call it a “live” album, exactly, because it was recorded in a studio, but in front of an audience hand-picked by the producer to convey the feel of a live performance. It’s not quite authentic but it works, especially as it allows the listener to experience the entire Waits shtick: the guttural banter, the jokes, the wordplay, and the music.

The mood is set from the get-go in the opening intro, with the quartet playing a bluesy vamp featuring Jim Hughart’s walking bass and short, honking arabesques by Pete Christlieb on the sax. The sound is that of a cool, if jaded, house band at a burlesque club and Waits reinforces the conceit by welcoming the audience to the fictitious “Rafael’s Silver Cloud Lounge,” and thanking the stripper who ostensibly warmed up the audience and put a charge into Waits’  libido.  He continues with some introductory jokes about late nights and coming home after three months to find everything in his refrigerator has “turned into a science project.”  As he talks, Waits elegantly elides into the first song, “Emotional Weather Report,” which is more rhythmic spoken word recitation than it is singing. He bemoans the “tornado watches…in the western region of my mental health” and declares that “It’s cold out there—colder than the ticket-taker’s smile at the Ivar Theater on a Saturday night.” Jilted by his lover, Waits’ forecast is for more precipitation.

The rest of the album more or less follows the same pattern, with Waits sustaining a twisted down-and-out persona as he leads into another song or spoken word performance, backed by the jazzmen and revolving around themes of loneliness, lost love, late nights, and life at the margins. For my money, the best cut on the album is the third, “Eggs and Sausage (In a Cadillac with Susan Michelson)” in which Waits precisely captures the milieu of an all-night coffee shop. In this song, (this time he is singing rather than reciting), Waits displays his artistry in clever turns of phrase and the ability to evoke the bittersweet mood of a lonely late night out after a break-up. Atmospherics and the skilled deployment of similes and metaphors are Waits’ stock in trade and he’s at his best in “Eggs and Sausage.”

Waits is often compared to the Beat poets, but that’s not quite right. His music at this stage of his career, and particularly on this album, is reminiscent of the Beats, with its jazz and spoken word poetry, and its exploration of loneliness and alienation. But unlike the Beats, Waits isn’t concerned with philosophy or spirituality, or even drug-induced altered states of consciousness. For the most part, alcohol is Waits’ drug of choice and that and his focus on the working class and marginalized perhaps slides him closer to the Beats-adjacent Charles Bukowski. Both Bukowski and the Beats expressed profound alienation, however, with the Beats setting themselves in opposition to the 1950s military-industrial complex and Bukowski challenging the smug conventionality and moral sensibilities of bourgeois America. Waits isn’t overtly political, like the Beats could be, and he certainly doesn’t indulge in the blunt rage and belligerence of Bukowski. Rather, despite the crusty delivery, he is sentimental. In the end, Nighthawks, as well as Waits’ other music of the mid-1970s, is not concerned so much with alienation as with hard luck, loneliness, and the struggle to carve a little dignity out of an uncaring universe. On Nighthawks, the world is what it is, and Waits knows it is a mug’s game to try to change it.

Tom Waits, at any point in his long musical career, is an acquired taste. Those fans, likely younger ones who are more familiar with the growling, iconoclastic, and experimental performer Waits morphed into starting with 1983’s Swordfishtrombones, may find the younger Waits of Nighthawks in the Diner more conventional—dare we say “quaint”?—than the older artist they are familiar with.  But in 1975, Waits’ retro-beatnik hipster persona, jazzy music, and well-crafted noirish lyrics was something different from the dominant electronic-heavy compositions of rock and fusion. From the perspective of fifty years, it holds up well, although younger listeners may find themselves bemused by Waits’ frequent references on this album to LA “landmarks” that have passed into history—The Copper Penny restaurants, the seedy Ivar Theater, the  Ziedler & Ziedler clothing store on Sunset, and KABC weatherman Dr. George Fischbeck, to name a few.

If there is a flaw in Nighthawks, it is that the persona Waits adopts narrows the variety of the songs. To be sure, on a few tracks—“Warm Beer and Cold Women,” “Nobody,” and the country-ish “Putnam County”—Waits veers into his singer/songwriter roots, dials back the jazz, and sings accompanied by himself on piano. By and large, though, the album is a series of Waits’ compositions backed up by well-executed jazz incidental music. The jazz frames the mood, but the fun is in skillful lyrics, the repartee and wry observations, and the dark, at times cynical, yet not despairing atmosphere that Waits conjures up. It is an eccentric artifact of its time, but it still rewards the listener and reminds us that the 1970s weren’t all bell-bottoms, platform shoes, and leisure suits. 

—Leo the Deacon

Van Der Graaf Generator: Godbluff

Released in October 1975 in the UK, this album was only available as an import. It wasn’t until I made a trip to Europe in 1978 that I purchased it in Amsterdam and had it and several other albums shipped from a post office near the record store back to the States. That particular parcel of LPs arrived home earlier than I, and so once I was home, I put it on my beloved turntable. Wow!

As a great admirer of their previous album, Pawn Hearts, which I had bought as a cut-out in the US for less than three dollars, I had high expectations for this. Fortunately, the quality of the lyrics and music did not disappoint.

After a four-year gap between Godbluff and Pawn Hearts, Peter Hammill, Hugh Banton, Guy Evans, and David Jackson roar back more powerfully than ever with less psychedelic and excursionary elements and an apparent singular focus on drama and controlled handling of musical tension and release. Hammill displays his range of skills on vocals, superior in dramatic and expressive impact to more famous contemporary singers/songwriters like David Bowie, and even contending with the otherworldly emotional delivery of Demetrio Stratos of Area and Francesco Di Giacomo of Banco del Mutuo Soccorso. Hugh Banton and Guy Evans are in great form on keyboards and percussion; and we have David Jackson on double saxophones, à la Rahsaan Roland Kirk, creating musical textures that elevate the music experience to breathtaking intensity.

Side One opens with “The Undercover Man”, which starts softly, creating musical and dramatic suspense. Once the tension is established, it methodically builds in intensity, layer by layer, gradually crescendoing, leading to some colorful organ, sax and the further unfolding of the brilliant expression and pacing of Hammill’s staggered and passionate vocals.

“Scorched Earth”, the second of two tracks on the first side, maintains intensity, opening up quietly and building in dynamics with repetitive motives weaving through Hugh Banton’s organ part and David Jackson’s deftly engineered sax parts supported by Guy Evans’s relentlessly polyrhythmic drum work. The forward momentum cools, with an initially echoey middle section, crafted out of preceding musical material that explodes into an unpredictable flurry of syncopated melodic material and violent skirmishes of accelerating ostinatos and motivic interchanges. Two dominant mixed meters alternate. Dynamic and rhythmic shifts continue to propel the music forward to an abrupt climax ending with a brief musical exhale.

Side two opens up reflectively with “Arrow”, with a meandering and introspective introduction ferociously interrupted with Hammill’s vocals which commence to entwine and shape the course of the music leading into an instrumental of repeated sax permutations on the primitive four-note saxophone motive heard earlier but not put through a series of repeated modifications. Hammill’s vocals return with full intensity and anguish:

How long the time seems
How dark the shadow
How straight the eagle flies
How straight towards his arrow

How long the night is
Why is this passage so narrow?
How strange my body feels
Impaled upon the arrow

This is followed by more sax-dominated instrumental and intensive, unrestrained percussion eventually trailing off into a sustained whimper.

The last track, “Sleepwalker”, described by Hammill as portraying “life in death, death in life” begins boldly with a brilliant 9/8-based mixed-meter motif, syncopated and off-kilter, creating a lurching, stumbling feel, realized flawlessly by sax, organ and percussion. Once the pattern is established for the listener, it moves into an accompaniment foundation for Hammill’s vocals:

At night, this mindless army, ranks unbroken by dissent
Is moved into action and their pace does not relent
In step, with great precision, these dancers of the night
Advance against the darkness – how implacable their might!

The second section starts off as a tango with güiro, organ, clavinet and then sax on melody– but it is a 3/4 tango! It then contorts itself evolving into the opening motif for brief return of theme A, but these expectations are quickly tossed aside with an intro into a completely new section in a relentless, undeniable 4/4, the sax and rhythm hinting at a brief funky disco feel before the band shuts down that possibility completely with aggressive prog-rock percussion, sax and Hammill’s searing vocals.

A necessary aside on the artistic nature of David Jackson’s approach to the saxophone: dubbed “the Van Gogh of the saxophone” by a critic of the British New Musical Express, Jackson was described as a “renegade impressionist, dispensing distorted visions of the world outside from his private asylum window”. Following in the footsteps of jazz artists like John Coltrane, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, and Albert Ayler, Jackson focused on fully leveraging timbral and tonal qualities of his instrument to deliver a wider range of emotional experiences.

Two key elements defined his style. The first was his signature use of double horn — playing two saxophones (typically alto and tenor) simultaneously, creating dense harmonies and powerful, layered riffs. The second, and more crucial for “The Sleepwalkers,” was his pioneering use of electronics using customized pickups, octave dividers, wah-wah pedals, and powerful amplification, transforming the saxophone from a purely acoustic instrument into a versatile prog-rock sound source, capable of generating textures and timbres far beyond its natural range, allowing him to sonically manifest the fragmentation, distortion, and psychological turmoil central to VDGG’s music — and provide a fully-effective soundscape for Hammill’s autonomically engaging, intensely visceral vocal delivery.

The synthesis of those two saxophones, the bass pedals and organ work of Banton, Evans’s driving polyrhythmically-paced percussion, always at the service of the music and text propels us into the psychedelic-flavored coda which slowly evaporates into nothingness, leaving the lingering essence in the listener’s mind, eventually compelling a repeat playing of one of the finest albums

Steve Hackett: Voyage of the Acolyte

Released in October 1975, I never had enough money to buy this in my college days — such a shame, as this is a wonderful album and provides insight into how much Steve Hackett contributed compositionally to the many of the passages within Genesis’s Nursery Cryme and Supper’s Ready. Excellent, evocative and reflective music that sparkles as wondrously as ever.

Pink Floyd: Wish You Were Here

Pink Floyd released their ninth studio album in September of 1975. Fifty years later their The Dark Side of Moon boost has maintained their popularity enough so that there are multiple sets out this month celebrating the fiftieth anniversary. If you haven’t heard this album yet, you probably weren’t listening to music fifty years ago!

Can: Landed; Jethro Tull: Minstrel In the Gallery; Electric Light Orchestra: Face the Music

All released in September of 1975, all three of these albums have their strong moments and are worth checking out. Can’s Landed starts off with grungy rock badly recorded, but ends strongly with the musique concrète of “Unfinished” with much of interest in between.

Jethro Tull’s Minstrel In the Gallery is more reflective than his previous three albums and seemingly more personal. Thematically, the album lyrics cover the introspective and the cynical, with Ian Anderson’s lyrics exploring the isolation and pressures of being a public performer — Anderson being that Minstrel in the Gallery. Throughout a good deal of the album Martin Barre’s electric guitar is in the forefront and borders on a jazz-fusion ethos contrasted in other sections with delicate acoustic guitar. The album’s highlight is the musically and metrically complex, multi-part “Baker Street Muse” on side two, lasting over sixteen minutes with sharp contrasts and sharp lyrics.

ELO’s Face the Music opens up with an orchestral intro and explodes with their signature blend of strings, Jeff Lynne’s guitar, drums, and keyboards. The excellent opening instrumental, which highlights Mik Kaminski on violin, is followed by a classic-sounding ELO track, “Waterfall, reminiscent of Eldorado material. As mentioned earlier by Leo the Deacon, September 1975 ushers us into the mainstream days of disco fever and ELO made good money with an edited single version of the third track “Evil Woman.” I had stopped listening to AM radio long before 1975, but somehow I was still exposed to it enough in various public venues that I developed a rather strong aversion to its annoyingly commercially cloying sound. The remaining album has its ups and downs, and includes a number sounding much like the pre-disco Bee-Gees (“Strange Magic”) and Lynn’s excursion into country music, “Down Home Town.”

Besides these albums we have a wealth of other releases, not at the level of Godbluff by any means but much more commercially successful including albums by George Harrison, John Lennon, Elton John, Paul Simon, his former singing mate, Art Garfunkel, Rush, Herbie Mann, Linda Ronstadt, Roxy Music, Sparks, Steeleye Span, Aretha Franklin, Barbra Streisand, Frank Zappa, Hall & Oates, Crosby and Nash without Stills, and though I haven’t a clue what it sounds like, and am totally fine with that, Kiss’s Live Album, which apparently is the first album released by any American hard rock band, for if memory serves me correctly Spinal Tap had not released any live albums by that date — or to be factually correct, now that I check Wikipedia, still has not.

Category:

Album review, Country Rock, Fifty Year Friday, Folk Rock, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Charles Tolliver, Area, Demetrio Stratos, Zappa, Tubes;Fifty Year Friday: June 1975

Charles Tolliver: Impact

Released sometime in 1975, Charles Tolliver’s Impact is an impressive album from the audacious and creative trumpeter, composer, and bandleader. Big band albums were becoming rarer and rarer, particularly those that were inventive, hard-edged, and more late hard bop or post-bop than nostalgic or easy listening. Impact unfurls a colorful, colossal sonic landscape, brimming with hard bop and post-bop intensity and an unbridled, innovative spirit that pushes the boundaries of large ensemble jazz. Tolliver masterfully constructs compelling compositions and intricate, adventurous arrangements that are both challenging and exhilarating, providing a fertile ground for himself and a handful of formidable soloists to unleash their improvisational prowess.

The album begins with the title track, “Impact,” an explosive opener that immediately grabs the listener’s attention with its dense brass voicings and a driving rhythmic pulse. Charles Tolliver himself steps forward, delivering a blistering trumpet solo that cuts through the dense ensemble with a bright, commanding tone, showcasing his characteristic blend of searing energy and melodic ingenuity. Also shining brightly is James Spaulding, whose alto saxophone work wonderfully weaves angular, serpentine lines, interacting with apparent spontaneity with the structured force of the ensemble.

“Mother Wit” begins with strings, which initially set a delicate mood, but the overall atmosphere soon coalesces, leading into beautifully lengthy solo work from Charles Tolliver. Harold Vick provides soulful tenor work, followed by Stanley Cowell’s angular, unconstrained hard bop piano solo. The strings return, followed by Tolliver, bringing the piece to a balanced close.

“Grand Max” bursts out with tightly wound energy, with Tolliver diving right in and maintaining the initial momentum. Rounding out the soloing is Charles McPherson on alto, George Coleman on tenor, and again Cowell on piano. Side two commences with the quirky and distinctive “Plight,” an energetic track that further highlights the dynamic range of the orchestra. Tolliver initiates the soloing, and is soon followed by Spaulding, then Cowell. This is followed by the reflective “Lynnsome,” featuring Spaulding on flute in the intro, with solos from Tolliver and Cowell that maintain and extend the initial mood.

The album concludes with “Mournin’ Variations,” which opens with strings. A dynamic interplay between the strings and the jazz ensemble then sets the stage for George Coleman’s extended tenor solo. This is followed by concluding piano commentary from Cowell before the re-entry of the strings. The two sections then alternate, shifting between wistful and emphatic passages, bringing one of the most enjoyable jazz albums of 1975 to a powerful conclusion.

Area: Are(A)zione

This is one of the few live albums, official or bootleg, of Area with Demetrio Stratos. This first side is amazing and includes live versions of three classic Area works, showcasing the bands exciting instrumental interplay and the one-of-a-kind, next-to-no-one voice of Stratos. The second side is is primarily a live free jazz/rock track, titled “Are(A)zione” matching the album’s title. “Areazione” is Italian for “evaporation,” but the use of case here provides the true meaning: “Area” is of course the group’s name and “Azione” is Italian for action, so freely translated this can be viewed as Area in action. The album ends with a nod to the group member’s socialist affinities, a rendition of “L’Internazionale.”

Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention: One Size Fits All

Released in late June of 1975, One Size Fits All provides more consistency and discipline than most Zappa albums allowing all the brilliance to shine through with only minor extramusical annoyances and distractions to detract from the overall positive musical experience. The jazzy” Inca Roads” is the gem of the album, and like “Peaches En Regalia” from Hot Rats provides enough forward momentum to easily forgive any weaknesses or annoyances from any tracks that follow. If one wants accessible Zappa, this is a good album to start with.

The Tubes: The Tubes

Released with minimal fanfare in June 1975, the album was passed around amongst my friends for its humor and lively use of synthesizer. In contrast to the rougher edges found in the humor seeping from Zappa albums, this was polished with some believable parodies of prevalent styles, primarily glam and punk, mixed with satirical social commentary. The humor enhanced the music, and the music was generally quite impressive itself. “Up from the Deep” kicks off the album with energy, drama and style, warmth and self-deprecating humor. The synthesizer work and keyboard in the instrumental bridge is up to progressive rock standards, and even includes a reference to a prevalent bridge motif in Gentle Giant’s “Knots” from Octopus. This is followed by a mixture of styles, all humorous in their own ways: Space Baby sleekly imitates David Bowie post-Ziggy style of 1973 and 1974, “What Do You Want From Life” drips with dry, razor-edged humor, and “Mondo Bondage” is notable for its relentless striding rhythm which supports the simultaneous metaphorical and literal meanings of the lyrics which are cleverly brought to the forefront. “Mondo Bondage” kicks off side two and is followed by three additionally strong tracks, “What Do You Want from Life?” a dig at materialism and seventies-style consumerism and angst, “Boy Crazy” another glam/Bowie parody that ridicules teenage cluelessness, and the pounding, relentlessly repetitive “White Punk on Dopes” which would eventually get some notable FM airplay in the U.S. and get even wider airplay a couple of years later in the UK. The Tubes went all out when they staged their material live, and though some of the musicality and more subtle aspects of their humor were consequential causalities, they still put on a good show.

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Fifty Year Friday, jazz, Rock

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Fifty Year Friday: March 1975

Hatfield and the North: The Rotter’s Club

Released on 7 March 1975, The Rotter’s Club is one of the finest progressive rock albums , delivering a rich blend of humor, virtuosity, and intricate composition that captures the essence of the era while being identifiably distinct from any other album of its time. As the second studio album by British avant-garde and progressive rock band Hatfield and the North, it succeeded their self-titled debut (1973), which established them as a prominent figure in the Canterbury scene. But The Rotter’s Club marked a progression, both musically and conceptually, toward an even more refined and ambitious sound. It is a record that not only brings together various aspects of jazz, rock, and classical music but also emphasizes the playful and eccentric side of progressive rock, a nice contrast to the overly serious, often over-reaching and sometimes pretentious reputation ascribed to it by is staunchest critics.

Tangerine Dream: Rubycon

With the release of Rubycon on March 21, 1975, Tangerine Dream delivered their fourth studio album, a fully realized version of their relentlessly driving “Krautrock” industrial, high-tech, space music. While Rubycon clearly evolves from their previous album, Phaedra, it represents a leap forward, much like the internet is to the stone tablet. Whether Tangerine Dream’s change in direction was influenced by considerations about what musical characteristics would work best for film soundtracks and greater audience engagement, or whether it was partly inspired by the success of Kraftwerk, Rubycon marks the undeniable establishment of a new genre of music — one distinct from anything that came before it. Tangerine Dream’s flirtations with Stockhausen and other electronic composers led them in a direction that was as different from the contemporary world of so-called “classical” and “serious” music as that music was from the tonally extended late Romantic music. What emerged was something accessible, mesmerizing, hypnotic, and directly relevant — an exciting departure from the avant-garde style that, for most of the listening public, had become irrelevant.

Rick Wakeman: Myths & Legends Of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table

Rick Wakeman’s King Arthur, released March 27, 1975, is filled with interesting keyboard and instrumental passages that should interest most progressive rock fans. Though the vocal sections are not exactly comprised of tunes your likely to sing on your own or even along with — they functionally provide narrative, much like Baroque and Classical Era recitatives and, overall the album works well as a dramatic experience. An alternative to the original, with much better overall sound and additional musical content (which had to be left off the original single LP due to time constraints) is the 2012 two-CD version. If you haven’t hear either, best to go for the updated version with the extra material and superior production.

Soft Machine: Bundles

Released in March 1975, Soft Machine’s Bundles is successfully melds an electronic jazz-rock sound with compatible prog-rock elements. The addition of guitarist Allan Holdsworth. known for his fluid, virtuosic playing, injects the album with a fresh intensity, particularly notable in the multi-track Hazard Profile, a nineteen minute five-part suite that showcases Soft Machine’s new direction inclusive of Holdsworth’s soaring guitar work supported by a propulsive, energetic rhythm section. Side one concludes with Holdsworth’s acoustic and beautifully introspective “Gone Sailing.”

Side two is equally compelling with the first four tracks seamlessly blending into a a single experience. The next track, “Four Gongs Two Drums” provides a short percussive intermission, with hints of Indonesian Gamelan followed by the final track, “The Floating World”, a reflective, drifting, neo-Impressionistic composition that gently glides the listener through a bliss-invoking, peaceful and relaxing musical state, providing a fittingly tranquil, dreamlike-end to this excellent album.

Steely Dan: Katy Lied

Donald Fagan and Walter Becker follow up the classic Pretzel Logic album, with another strong album, rich with jazz-flavored chords, Katy Lied, released in March of 1975. Though not strictly a concept album, the album sounds musically unified and could be considered a song cycle of sorts, justifying the term “lied”, a German term applied to art songs, giving us an additional meaning underneath the mysterious reference to the “Katy tried” and “Katy lies” lyrics in the fifth and final track on the first side, “Dr. Wu.”

David Bowie: Young Americans

With his ninth studio album, released March 7, 1975, once again, Bowie takes off in another musical direction, extending the elements of soulfulness found in Diamond Dogs and in “Lady Grinning Soul” from the earlier Aladdin Sane, into an all-out exploratory, high-art treatment of American soul music. The arrangements are sophisticated, with Tony Visconti deserving similar praise as Bowie for his musical versatility and with strong contributions from Carlos Alomar and additional input from a twenty-three year-old Luthor Vandross. The strongest track, “Fame,” was initially based on an Alomar guitar riff, with John Lennon, who was visiting the New York Electric Ladyland studios, assisting David Bowie in the authoring of the song by providing his sarcastic, ironic, and pessimistic take on the vagaries of fame.

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Album review, Fifty Year Friday, Jazz Rock, Pop, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Fifty Year Friday: December 1974

Gryphon: Red Queen to Gryphon Three

Released in December of 1974, Gryphon’s instrumental concept album, “Red Queen to Gryphon Three” masterfully blends progressive rock, folk rock, and renaissance musical elements into diligently crafted, richly-textured, exciting and sonically colorful musical experience.

As there are not lyrics, and limited discussion by bandmembers on the intent of the album and its underlying concept, it seems that the game of chess functions as a metaphor — whether this metaphor is representative of human conflict, interaction, some life event or simply the traditional four movement classical symphony where there is an opening movement, a second movement, a more reflective movement (often the second movement but also sometimes the third movement) and a finale (the checkmate), is left for the listener to consider. What is beyond dispute is the music is the propulsive, dramatic nature of the music and the meticulous arrangements with its balanced instrumental layering.

The first track, “Opening Move” begins with a fanfare flourish, followed by a contemplative piano solo revealing the main theme, offset and contrasted by the use of a wealth of exploratory and developmental musical material. The movement gathers intensity appearing to push for a grand finish, but instead dissolves into a more thoughtful coda-like section that serves as reflective musical commentary.

The second track, “Second Spasm” is jaunty, filled with the spirit of English folk and renaissance with a sequence of interesting themes, including a second theme based on material from the first movement, a subsequent section that showcases the distinctive sounds of crumhorn and bassoon, and a march-like fourth section. The original them returns, altered instrumentation and character, developing a bit before followed by the second theme which with at full force concludes the first side of the original LP.

The third track, is the more reflective “Lament” with a contrasting, mostly upbeat section, and the return of the opening theme which ultimately smoothly transitions into an effective coda for the section.

The fourth track, “Checkmate” is an upbeat, energetic finale teaming with energy and colorful creativity. New musical material dominates, but, somehow, it all seems related to what has occurred earlier even without any discernable restatement of earlier material. The track and album conclude with a flourish similar to the material prior to the coda of the first track, which effectively wraps up a wonderful and memorably distinctive musical experience.

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Fifty Year Friday, Folk Rock, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Fifty Year Friday: July 1974

Stevie Wonder: Fulfillingness’ First Finale

Released on July 22, 1974, Stevie Wonders follows up the magnificent Innervisions album with another remarkable musical achievement. The album begins with the mellow, uplifting “Smile Please” which effectively sets the tone for the entire album. Each track could qualify as a highlight of the album, depending on one’s musical preferences. Of particular note are “Creepin”, a hauntingly beautiful song with a misty dreamlike quality and the always politically relevant (unfortunately) “You Haven’t Done Nothin’,” My favorite track is “They Won’t Go When I Go” which with its simple, solemn piano introduction, and profoundly compelling musical material. The album ends with the upbeat yet pleading “Please Don’t Go” with its effective gospel arrangement providing a solid finish to a very memorable album.

Robert Wyatt: Rock Bottom

Released on July 26, 1974, over a year after Robert Wyatt’s accidental fall from a fourth floor window that sadly left him paralyzed from the waist down, this is one of the most exceptional, individually idiosyncratic prog rock albums of the 1970s. It is clearly a work of love and dedication. Wyatt used material mostly written before the accident and singularly sculpted it into an unconventionally effective and rather original album. Wyatt excels at making quirky chord changes sound both natural and logical, and then he furthers elevates his material through highly interesting arrangements that profoundly enhance the musical material. Innovative and compelling, stimulating and emotionally engaging, the album fully delivers a challenging and rewarding listening experience.

Renaissance: Turn of the Cards

I first discovered this album in 1974 on a visit to our local library. Scouring the very limited LP lending section of the library, this was one of the few rock albums available. It had just been released in July of 1974, and the library had put a shiny plastic covering over it, which along with its promising cover art, made it further stand out from the other albums in its bin and the bins that were adjacent to it. I brought it home and was very pleased with the opening piano introduction, particularly appealing to a Keith Emerson fan like myself. I had assumed it was original material, but now know it is an excerpt of a work by French composer and organist, Jehan Alain. Fifty years later, this album sounds even better than I remember — sometimes majestic, often adventurous, progressive rock, sometimes symphonic and often emotive, showcasing Annie Haslem’s soaring vocals and Jon Touts driving, punctuating keyboard work.

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Fifty Year Friday: June 1974

PFM: The World Became the World

Though the original Italian version of The World Became the World was released in March of 1974, the English version, recorded in the same sessions as the Italian version, we not released until June 1974. Though the original Italian works better with the music, the English version contains an additional track, an updated English version of the classic “Impressioni di Settembre”, and these English lyrics are all authored by Peter Sinfield, making this version essential. With bassist Patrick Djivas joining the group, the band continues to be in top form, creatively and technically, providing a range of moods, particularly excelling in the more melancholic, tender and introspective passages.

Le Orme: Contrappunti

Though some progressive rock groups have flirted with imitative counterpoint, and some, like ELP and Gentle Giant have pulled it off nicely, I know of no group that actually opens an album with a fugue-like subject. Though there is no fugue that follows, the minor-key melodic subject provides a very dramatic introduction to a strong, well executed album. As good as their previous album is, which is generally considered their best, this album, for me, is incredibly enjoyable with some beautiful, heartfelt, very Italian, ballad writing, some heavier, harder-edged material, and amazing instrumental performances by the band. Its myriad contrasts and diverse elements blend nicely into a comprehensive and very compelling album.

Cluster: Zuckerzeit

With this 1974 masterpiece, Zuckerzeit, Dieter Moebius and Hans-Joachim Roedelius, the two musicians that comprise Cluster, break away from the less accessible, more “experimental” style of their two earlier albums, to provide shorter, more accessible, rhythmically precise, musically-narrative nuggets — sugary delicacies (Zuckerzeit means “sugar time”) that, though, dessert-like in nature, still have such substance that they significantly influence the direction of late seventies and early eighties popular music.

The album starts off with the most substantial piece of the set, Roedelius’s “Hollywood”, a work that slowly evolves over its framework of sequences and robotic rhythm. Within a short of four minutes and forty-eight seconds, Roedelius rewrites the history of electronic music, surpassing the previous impact and import of academically-approved giants like Karlheinz Stockhausen, Pierre Schaeffer and Luciano Berio. Amazing works like “Caramel”, “Marizipan”, and “Rotor” follow, with each musician contributing five short pieces, composed and performed individually, finely crafted and polished, each with their own ethos, character and story to tell.

Besides having an impact on other German bands like Tangerine Dream and bands under the Brain music label, Brian Eno has cited Cluster as a major influence on his own work. In addition, though hard to gauge to what extent, the rhythmical-stubbornness prevalent in later music of the seventies and eighties as exhibited by bands like Stereolab (and perhaps even some albums of the nineties, like Biosphere’s Substrata and Air’s Moon Safari) can partly be attributed to Zuckerzeit‘s direct and indirect influences.

Edger Froese: Aqua

Edger Froese of Tangerine Dream releases his first solo album in June of 1974. Recorded around the time Tangerine Dream’s Phaedra was recorded, given the prominent role Froese had in the band, it is no surprise to find aesthetic and musical similarities between Aqua and Phaedra.

I just enjoy Aqua as a listening experience. With the exception of the last track, “Upland”, and the start of “NGC 891”, this is a great album to relax to, compatible with either active listening or as use as a soundtrack for reading or working. “NGC 891” is particularly notable as preview of the spacey. rhythmic-driven, slowly evolving music that will be a staple on upcoming Tangerine Dream albums.

Triumvirat: Illusions on a Double Dimple and Bebop Deluxe: Axe Victim

Both of these albums are often criticized for their relatively weak production quality and for being derivative — Illusions on a Double Dimple mimics actual basslines and ostinatos from ELP’s albums, and Axe Victim is highly influenced by David Bowie, and in particularly the Ziggy Stardust album. (Axe Victim’s includes a track about the band “Jet Silver and the Dolls of Venus” which clearly invokes the Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.

But neither of these albums should be dismissed for being heavily influenced by talent at the level of David Bowie and ELP. Illusions on a Double Dimple lacks the coherence and purpose of Triumvirat’s later third album, Spartacus, but the musicianship and music is still highly enjoyable with “Mister Ten Percent” being the strongest of the two long tracks of the album. Axe Victim, though derivative and lacking in consistency, has some excellent music composed from the exceptionally talented Bill Nelson, whose guitar work rivals, if not surpasses Bowie’s bandmate Mick Ronson, at least in terms of technique and innovation. Nelson also is a capable lyricist. Nelson’s vocals fall short of Bowie’s more dramatic and compelling delivery, effectively shortchanging the potential of his own material. One could consider that if Bowie had sung and produced these songs, this would be an album of much higher merit, however, the album still has much to offer, much more than implied by the two out of five stars given it in allmusic.com, and is, compositionally, one of the better glam rock albums of 1974.

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Fifty Year Friday, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Fifty Year Friday: April 1974

Caravan: Caravan & The New Symphonia

Recorded Live at the Drury Lane Royal Theater on October 28, 1973 and released on April 19, 1974, this live album presented a mix of new material and a composition from their 1970 album and their 1972 Waterloo Lily album arranged and performed with a decently sized orchestra conducted by Martyn Ford. The recording quality is good for that era, and the combined effort between the band and the orchestra works well, providing a new dimension to previous studio work. Fortunately, there is a re-issue of this album that adds additional tracks including a preliminary set without the orchestra of three compositions from their previous album, For Girls That Go Plump in the Night as well as arranging the tracks in the original order from the concert. This reissue also provides an exciting encore with the orchestra: a energetic, well-performed rendition of their instrumental “A Hunting We Should Go” from their previous album. Overall, this live album is a real joy to listen with the orchestra enhancing the colorful nature of Pye Hastings compositions and Caravan’s arrangements.

Arti e Mastieri: Tilt (Immagini per un orecchio)

Released in April of 1974, Arti e Mastieri (Arts and Crafts) debut album was indeed “Images for the Ear!” Each composition has its own character and musical path. The album starts off strongly with “Gravità 9,81” which includes sax, mellotron, clarinet and violin, followed by “Strips” with comforting vocals somewhat similar to PFM. The third track, the short energetic “Corrosione,” flows seamlessly into one of my favorite tracks on the album “Positivo/Negativo”, which includes violin, vibes, violin and particularly propulsive percussion from their very talented drummer, Furio Chirico (love that name!) “In Cammino” provides a welcome contrast with its initial mood, and develops into a strong rock fusion piece by its conclusion. This is followed by the brief, beautiful, initially contemplative “Farenheit” which, even within its short timespan of seventy-five seconds, evolves and develops effectively. The most notable piece on the album, is the lengthiest — the dramatic “Articolazioni” — a true prog-rock masterpiece, seemingly greater in both length and scope that its actually timing of “13:24” would indicate. The album ends with the anomalous title track, “Tilt”, which, though interesting and well-done, stands out from the rest of the album, perhaps only to signal an end to the album rather than devised to fit in with the mood of the previous tracks. All and all, an amazing album. Though this is the debut album, it is evident that these are experienced and very knowledgeable musicians, who clearly achieved what they set out to do, and in the process delivered one of the great Italian Progressive Rock albums of all time. Those seeking this out should go with the CD reissue which provides superior sound to the original LP.

Focus: Hamburger Concerto

Released in April 1974, Focus’s fourth studio album is my personal favorite of the Focus studio albums I am familiar with. The first side starts out with Jan Akkerman’s arrangement of a composition from late renaissance lutenist and lute composer Joachim van den Hove, and is followed by catchy Thijs van Leer composition “Harem Scarem.” The third track is the impressively-wrought “La Cathédrale de Strasbourg” with its strong dramatic first theme and its effective use of pipe organ and acoustic piano, vocals, and contrasting jazz theme. Akkerman’s “Birth”, which ends side one, opens up with harpsichord introducing the theme which is then referenced in the main progressive rock section with Akkerman’s guitar work and van Leer extensively on flute. Quite memorable.

The second side of the album is devoted to Akkerman’s “Hamburger Concerto” which is inspired and based on Brahm’s Variations on a Theme By Haydn, and which effectively becomes a progressive rock theme and variations. The Haydn theme opens up the work with van Leer on organ, Allen on timpani and drums and Akkerman providing a short counter theme on guitar with a third theme introduced on Hammond organ. In general, the Haydn theme provides the thematic foundation but the creativity of Leer and Akkerman (including the incorporation of other themes including a Dutch Christmas Carol) and Van Leers yodel-like vocals (a la their big hit “Hocus Pocus”) take this beyond a straightforward theme and variations exercise with the work effectively and interestingly ranging in moods and blending various musical influences into a cohesive experience making this the highlight of a rather remarkable album by this talented Dutch progressive rock group.

Gryphon: Midnight Mushrumps

Released in April of 1974, Gryphon’s second album merges their medieval and renaissance influences with a modern progressive rock sound, placing them closer to the progressive rock mainstream of 1974. The first track, for example, is a single side composition, the title track of the album, one that pushes them beyond the constraints and expectations governed by shorter pieces. Fortunately, the band handles this nicely, with an surprisingly extensive nine-minute, introduction that effective sets up the main section of the work for the final ten minutes. The second side has shorter pieces, including the notable episodic “Dubbel Dutch” which skips through a range of styles appropriately analogous to the work’s title. The final track, “Ethelion”, takes the elements of an early renaissance dance composition and envelops them into an exhilarating, rhythmically displaced, complex metrical arrangement that transitions to a simpler, emphatically repetitive section that brings the album to a satisfying close.

The Residents: Meet the Residents

This neo-Dadaist musical work was released to minimal fanfare and meager record sales, timed fittingly for April fool’s day, 1974. This is clearly either a labor of love or an extreme instance of obsessive chaotic, disruptive agitation. Either way, it distinguishes itself from the established rock-world non-conformists of the day (Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart) with its distinctness and eccentricities. Overall the effort is noteworthy for its consistent inconsistency, eclecticism and its overall artistic identity. One particularly noteworthy track is “Rest Aria” which combines a simple beautiful folk-pop melody, 1960s classical minimalism, and a bizarre, westernized deconstruction of Indonesian Gamelan music into a truly effective and interesting result. If you don’t know the Residents, this first album is a great place to start your entry, or attempt at entry, into their world.

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Album review, Fifty Year Friday, Folk Rock, Fusion Jazz, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Fifty Year Friday: March 1974

King Crimson: Starless and Bible Black

Released March 1974, Starless and Bible Black drifts further into free improvisation than previous albums, successfully showcasing both the virtuosic skills of the band, particularly those of Robert Fripp, as well as the band’s other-worldly improvisational skills. The first two tracks provide enough accessible progressive rock to make the album an absolute must for the prog-rock fan, and the rest of the album mixes studio and live material to present a less accessible, but highly impactful musical experience. Particularly noteworthy is the live track “Trio”, an improvisation that the always amazing Bill Bruford wisely allows the rest of the band to develop and finish without forcing his own entrance, fully sensitive to the mood and the masterpiece being created. The gem of this collection is “Fracture”, worthy of lengthy musical analysis far beyond my capabilities. It’s intricacy and irregular rhythmic and structural aspects makes this a particularly challenging composition to perform, but the band is unfazed and undaunted, and not only succeeds technically but fully imbues it with the necessary emotion and expression to make this one of the most meaningful listening experiences in the King Crimson catalogue.

Camel: Mirage

Ethereal and wistful, Camel’s Mirage was released in March of 1974, first with the album cover showed above, and then with replaced (as demanded by the Camel cigarette company) with an alternative cover. Andrew Latimer (guitar, flute, vocals) and Peter Bardens (keyboards, vocals) produce a set of compositions that blend together seamlessly creating a distinctive lush and compelling sound experience.
“Supertwister” is the most dynamic and energetic track of the album, a short instrumental that marks off many traditional prog-rock check-boxes with the rest of the album being more introverted and contemplative.

Queen: Queen II

Queen’s second album, released on March 8, 1974, gives us a much more ambitious and artistic effort than the previous, making this their first must-have albums. The production is more polished and the group clearly invested substantial hours in the studio capturing the perfected harmonies and instrumental layering. Side one is mostly Brian May’s compositions, with one work by Roger Taylor, showing off Queen’s own brand of hard rock, while side two, is completely dedicated to Freddie Mercury’s fantastical compositions, with their abrupt musical shifts and endless harmonic energy. Drama and musical theater abound, particularly on the second side, and the musical diversity and level of instrumental excellence have made this an album that never wears out its welcome in the listening room.

Kansas: Kansas

Kansas released their first album on March 8, 1974, with six musicians from the American Midwest — five of the six born in Kansas or Missouri. The album is particularly American in sound, with hints of boogie rock, country, folk-rock and similar American Rock styles. Notably different than other American Midwest and Southern Rock groups is their facile integration of contemporary prog-rock elements, some of which are very similar to Genesis and Gentle Giant material, though not in the least derivative or perceivably mimicked. Particularly notable is the work of Kerry Livgren on synthesizer and the contributions of violinist Robby Steinhardt. One of the finest debut albums of 1974.

Weather Report: Mysterious Traveller

Weather Report begins to unleash is full range of jazz-fusion capabilities with the release of their fourth studio album on March 24, 1974, climbing to number 2 on the US Jazz Charts, as high as 46 on the US Pop album charts, and up to 31 on the US R&B charts. Additional funk and world music influences are incorporated, possibly leading to creative differences with legendary Miroslav Vitouš, who makes this his last recording with the group, appearing on two of the eight tracks on acoustic bass, replaced by bass guitarist, Alphonso Johnson on the other six tracks.

The album is inventive, innovative and filled to the brim with interesting improvisation — fusing jazz, world music, including Latin influences, funk, rock, and hints of classical. Album not only showcases the creativity and imaginative brilliance of Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorter, but includes memorable contributions from everyone involved included several guest musicians on percussion instruments, ocarina and woodwinds (on “J0ungle Book”) and vocals (“Nubian Sundance.”)

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Album review, Fifty Year Friday, Fusion Jazz, Hard Rock, Heavy Metal, jazz, Progressive Rock, Rock

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Peter Hammill, Todd Rundgren, Steely Dan; Fifty Year Friday: February 1974

Peter Hammill: The Silent Corner and the Empty Stage

Released in early February of 1974, even though there is ample participation by fellow Van Der Graaf band mates, this is clearly a personal, Peter Hammill solo effort. From the start Hammill dives inward stirring up and capturing a range of emotional turbulence.  

The album opens with the metrical tempestuous “Modern,” and ends with one of Hammill’s greatest classics, the deeply emotional “A Louse Is Not a Home.” Hammill often performed these two songs along with “The Lie (Bernini’s Saint Theresa)”, also on this album, in the 1970s on solo tours in small venues, injecting every ounce of energy into his dramatic renditions. 

Generally the featured instrument is Hammill’s expressive vocals appropriately supported by piano, mellotron, acoustic and electric guitar with additional support from the VDGG band members with Spirit’s Randy California on lead guitar on one track. The production emphasizes a sense of intimacy which underscores the uncompromising, unsuppressed intimacy, immediacy, and intensity which makes this album so remarkable.

Todd Rundgren: Todd

Todd Rundgren’s eponymous double album, released in February 1974, proclaims energetically, or rather electronically, that Mr. Rundgren is a master composer and arranger, delighting us with a wide array of electronic timbres and effects. Yes, we still have beautiful Rundgren ballads, such as “I Think You Know” and “A Dream Goes On Forever” included amidst all the voltaic dazzle, but the main attractions are Rundgren’s summoning of artfully deployed electronic-generated special effects, his command of various studio production techniques, and his venturing into more challenging musical compositions, like the metrically unbalanced “Drunken Blue Rooster”, the whimsical “An Elpee Worth of Tunes”, and ” the snide, unbridled ”Heavy Metal Kids.” Altogether, this is a extremely enjoyable, adventurous yet cohesive work that some may chose to classify as prog-rock, yet clearly stands separate from anything previously released commercially. This no doubt contributed to it going over the head of just about every major rock critic that reviewed the album in 1974 but also contributes to this being one of the most notable albums from 1974.

Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic

This is just one of those classic rock albums. Released on February 20, 1974, there really isn’t any single track that is at the level of “King of the World” from their previous album, but just about every track here is very close to that level of excellence. They group seems to have intentionally kept each song to AM airplay length — this means that jazz influence is more densely embedded in the tracks, but still handled very artfully and tastefully, retaining the classic Steely Dan sound. 

Brian Eno: Here Comes the Warm Jets

Brian Eno’s debut solo album, Here Comes the Warm Jets, released on February 8, 1973, is a unconventional rich tapestry of accessible pop (think Sid Barrett) set into ingenious contexts. Truly delightful, this album showcases Eno’s unconventional brand of creativity.

Tangerine Dream: Phaedra

Released on the 20th of February 1974, this engaging album overtakes Harmonia’s Musik Von Harmonia, released the previous month, in the race for approaching the fully mature sequence-driven, repetitive, German Prog Rock that would soon become so prevalent. The music truly pulls the listener out of their current environment and into another universe — a universe where sound is not differentiated from sensation, imagery, or existence.

Chase: Pure Music

After a very successful first album, and a weaker second album, it seems Bill Chase finally figured out the best direction to go in — emphasizing a more jazz-based brand of jazz rock, with mainly instrumental material. Every track works nicely, but alas, this would be Chase’s last album due to the crash of the twin-engine charted plane flight to his scheduled performance at the Jackson County Fair. Also lost to us all was drummer Walter Clark, guitarist John Emma, and the especially talented Wallace “Wally” Yohn, who provides some excellent keyboard contributions to this last Chase album.

Chase brings some of his Stan Kenton, Woody Herman and Maynard Ferguson experiences into the music on this album, elevating the content with more sophisticated arrangements and showcasing his personal solo skills at their very best. While Chicago, Lighthouse, If, and Blood, Sweat and Tears, best work was now in the past (by February 1974) is appears that Chase’s best work was tantalizingly close but, unfortunately, for all of us, never captured.

Mick Ronson: Slaughter on 10th Avenue

Released in February 1974, this is about as close to a David Bowie album as one can find which doesn’t have David Bowie involved in singing, performing or producing. We do have another member of Ziggy’s Spider From Mars band, Trevor Bolder on bass, trumpet and trombone, and we have Mike Garson on keyboards (notable especially for his piano contribution on Aladdin Sane) — and we also have two original songs by Bowie, ”Growing Up and I’m Fine” and “Hey Ma, Get Papa.” Ronson’s vocals are second best to Bowie, but good enough to carry the album off nicely. Truly a recommended record for any Bowie fan.

Category:

Fifty Year Friday, Fusion Jazz, Jazz Rock, Music, Progressive Rock, Rock

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