Into the Top 20...
20. Nick Drake – Bryter Layter
The title of ‘tortured genius’ is one that a number of
artists, poets and musicians have had thrust upon them over the years, and one
such recipient is the enigma that is Nick Drake. Much of his ‘torture’ came
from the lack of commercial success he achieved for his work, and it is to some
extent understandable when you consider the quality of that work, but that
angst was to lead him to take his own life at the tender age of 26. He produced
three albums during his short life: Five Leaves Left, Bryter Layter and Pink
Moon. The latter of the three is very stark in its arrangements, and reflects
Drake’s descent into depression and melancholy. Of the first two, I am drawn
more to the second, mainly for its poetry (Drake was reading English Literature
at Cambridge at the time) but also for the outstanding guitar work, mostly
using anything but standard tunings, the instrumental interludes and the subtle
but poignant orchestrations, which are more in evidence here than on the debut.
Although I only came across his work through a friend in the late 1980s, the
songs have become part of my inner soundtrack in a way that usually only
happens with stuff from my teens.
19. Peter Gabriel – 3 (Melt)
Following his departure from Genesis in 1975, people were
watching both the band and Peter Gabriel to see where their musical trajectory
would take them. By 1980 Genesis were a 3-piece and Duke was to catapult them
to huge stadium-filling success, whereas Gabriel was exploring more
experimental and progressive pathways. By his third (technically untitled)
album he had started to gather a wide selection of musicians to help make his
increasingly varied music, including Phil Collins and other members of Brand X,
and Robert Fripp, Paul Weller & Dave Gregory. By this album Gabriel was
also beginning to explore more overtly political themes, notably on Biko but
also on the relatively successful single Games Without Frontiers. It also
explores psychological themes in No Self Control, I Don’t Remember, Lead a
Normal Life and even Intruder. But for me the stand-out track, and possibly my
all-time favourite of his, is Family Snapshot with its tale of political
assassination and the deep-seated trauma that led to the action – a coming
together of the two themes. Much of it, 40 years on, is still hugely relevant
to us today (Not One Of Us, Games Without Frontiers, Lead a Normal Life…), and
that’s what makes it stand out for me.
18. Marillion – Script for a Jester’s Tear
There are certain albums that I can remember buying more
than others, and the debut by Marillion is one such album. Shuffling through
the shelves at my local independent record store (as one did in the early 80s)
I came across the album and thought ‘This looks just like the kind of stuff I
was listening to before punk killed it off!’ Mark Wilkinson’s artwork was
simply stunning and promised so much for the music, so I had to have it. The
material was just as alluring, conjuring up memories of music from 10 years
earlier, particularly Fish’s voice, so warmly redolent of Gabriel’s. Here were
songs about love, drug abuse, class, war and even the cliched ‘wannabe actress
drifts into prostitution’ – and not a concept in sight (just yet…). As a debut
this has rarely been surpassed, to my mind, and the band only came close to
matching it in overall quality with Misplaced Childhood (which did have a concept…)
and I am unrepentantly in the Fish-Marillion camp as regards the band’s better
line-up. Lyrically Fish has been at the forefront for the best part of 40
years, and this is a sublime example of his art.
17. Yes – The Yes Album
I’ve mentioned earlier about how changes to a band’s
personnel can have a huge impact on their style, and this is never more ably
illustrated than by looking at Yes’s catalogue. The arrival of Patrick Moraz on
Relayer, the Buggles on Drama and of Trevor Rabin on 90125; the departure of
Jon Anderson after Magnification – all these had a profound effect on the
band’s music. But maybe the most significant for me was the arrival in 1970 of
Steve Howe as guitarist, to replace Peter Banks. Howe brought his own
particular style to the band, along with his song-writing and his vocals which
contributed to what would be know by some as ‘The Yes Choir’ – Anderson, Howe
& Squire. The band’s third album – The Yes Album – was the first to feature
Howe, and included a live classical guitar tune, ‘Clap’, recorded shortly after
he’d joined the band in June 1970, at the Lyceum Theatre, London. The songs
demonstrate the band’s developing sound, with three almost epic-length pieces:
Yours is No Disgrace, Starship Trooper and Perpetual Change; a slightly
punchier (just under 7 minutes) I’ve Seen All Good People – all of which
quickly became, and remain, live favourites – along with the aforementioned
Clap, and A Venture, a shorter and quieter song by Jon Anderson. This record remains
for me a decisive turning-point for the band musically, perhaps their most
important album in terms of their development as a band, because for me it was
here that their distinctive sound was first displayed, and was subsequently
honed on their next 3 albums.
16. John Martyn – Solid Air
John Martyn is somewhat of an enigma musically. His early
albums are pretty much firmly in the folk genre, with some blues influence, but
by the mid-70s he was beginning to move more in a rock & blues direction,
which led to experimenting with soundscapes, collaborating with Phil Collins –
that sort of thing. It was probably his 6th album, 1973’s Solid Air,
that marked the transition for him. The title track, his homage to Nick Drake,
who’s downward spiral was causing his friends much concern is moody and
reflective, with Martyn’s mumbled vocals and Danny Thompson’s stellar upright
bass playing adding to the overall mood wonderfully, as they do on Go Down
Easy. Over The Hill is good old-fashioned folk, helped by Richard
Thompson & Simon Nichol from Fairport Convention and Sue Draheim, an
American fiddler who’s played with John Renbourn & The Albion Country Band.
Don’t Want To Know brings Martyn’s percussive guitar sound and some moody
piano. Then there’s I’d Rather Be The Devil, which showcases Martyn’s
heavy use of Echoplex tape delays to produce a multi-layered sound that he
would later develop further on Small Hours on his 1977 offering One World. May
You Never is perhaps his best-known and most iconic song - certainly the
one that more people will know from his extensive catalogue – but this album is
so much more than that one song. There’s a touch of anger in Dreams By The
Sea, there’s melancholy in places, there’s joy but also introspection. For
me it’s a complete album, certainly his best, and one that has stood and will
stand the test of time.
15. Steve Hillage – Fish Rising
I knew nothing of Steve Hillage when I was introduced to
his music in about 1977. My introduction came through a club I used to frequent
in Harrogate, run by Paul Gerrett, the former keyboard player with Harrogate
band Wally. One of the songs that was played frequently was The Salmon Song
from Hillage’s debut solo album, Fish Rising, and for a young impressionable
wannabe hippy like I was, its New Age, trippy, Aquarian vibes struck an
immediate chord. The follow-up album, L, had recently come out, and I lapped
that up too, but it was Fish Rising that kept drawing me back. It revolves
really round 3 epic-length tracks and a couple of much shorter pieces. Solar
Musick Suite has a meditative edge to it before rocking out, showcasing
Hillage’s dexterity on the fretboard. Fish is just a short piece of
silliness. Meditation of the Snake is an almost ambient track with
looping, swirling keyboards with some atmospheric bluesy riffing over the top. The
Salmon Song, my ‘entry drug’ to Hillage, is another looping, swirling song
that leaps about and rocks and send me back to those heady, hairy days of my
youth! Afterglid is another more meditative mostly instrumental piece
(apart from The Lafta Yoga Song), with looping guitars, quiet acoustic
passages, swirling keyboards and an over-riding Eastern feel, concluding with
The Golden Vibe. It was an almost inexpressible joy for me to see these and
other songs performed live by Steve and his band (the latest incarnation of
Gong) late last year – it sent shivers up my spine as the opening bars were
played.
14. Neil Young – American Stars & Bars
Back to Neil Young, and to what remains for me his best
album. The music is an interesting mix of Young's different styles. 'The Old
Country Waltz' fits into the 'Don't Let It Bring You Down' school of
depressing maudlin songs, with fiddle and slide guitar to ramp up the feeling
of woe in another 'my girl's left me' outpouring. 'Saddle Up The Palomino'
is a little rockier, with a memorable electric riff to open with, but continues
the country feel. 'Hey Babe' is jollier and more acoustic, but still
with Young's distinctive nasal whine - not a criticism, just an observation! 'Hold
Back The Tears' takes us back to 'O woe is me' territory, which his voice
seems to suit, but this is a song with a hopeful edge - 'Just around the next
corner may be waiting your true love' he sings. Side One ends with 'Bite The
Bullet', a hard, simple rocker to lift the mood a little. For a Canadian he
does the Southern rock thing quite well! Side Two is a different kettle of fish
altogether from Side One, with 2 longer songs bookended by two shorter ones. I
must confess, too, that forty years on I still chuckle to myself at the opening
line of 'Star of Bethlehem' and how my teenage mind reacted to 'Ain't it
hard when you wake up in the morning...' (I'm a bad man...) The song itself is
a simple acoustic song, with the bonus of an appearance by Emmylou Harris on
harmony vocals. 'Will To Love' is the only song that features Young on
his own, and is a dreamy, ethereal song with acoustic guitars and occasional
piano that always gives me the impression of being recorded around a campfire
somewhere in the middle of nowhere. This is, for me, serious chill-out music. 'Like
a Hurricane' on the other hand is solid electric guitar-led rock that Neil
Young does best, on a par with 'Southern Man' or 'Cortez The Killer'. This was
the first song I'd heard from the album, probably on Alan Freeman's show one
Saturday afternoon, and it sold me on the album. Simple, but powerful, as is
the album closer, 'Homegrown', in a different way. And any drug
references are purely coincidental... It's albums like this one that continue
to convince me that 1977 was a classic year for the kind of music that has
accompanied my life for the ensuing forty years. There is a permanence, a
longevity, a timelessness about this music. 1977 was a key year for me
personally, and also musically in forging tastes that have stayed with me, but
have developed over those years.
13. Jeff Buckley – Grace
There are times when everything comes together with an
album - melody, lyrics, musicianship, structure, voice – to produce something that
is superlative, transcendent, almost beyond description. Jeff Buckley’s only
solo album, Grace, comes very close to that. From the opening bars of drone
building in crescendo as Buckley’s falsetto and the jangly guitars fade in, you
are taken on a journey of discovery, of adventure; into unexpected, vibrant
places. Jazz, soul, blues, folk, rock all vie for your attention, but not in
any competitive way. Buckley’s voice soars and swoops in tone, texture and
timbre effortlessly, another instrument in the symphony of the songs. This is
really good stuff! Many, if they know Buckley at all, will do so for his
seminal rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Halleluiah; others may be aware of his
tragic end at the age of 30, only 2 years older than his father, Tim, when he
died. But it is for his music that he deserves to be remembered: for its sheer
passion, energy, depth and soul. The tragedy is that, like Hendrix or Morrison
before him, he wasn’t able to take this music further.
12. Pink Floyd – Animals
Withing Pink Floyd’s canon, Animals is one of those
albums that can be easily missed, which is a great shame. Coming as it did in that
time of great flux for the UK music scene, it is an interesting album. For many
at the time, particularly in the pro-punk media, this was a perfect example of
what they were fighting against: long, ponderous songs with seemingly endless
guitar solos, lacking the immediacy and energy of the new bands. Coming as it
did, though, at the start of 1977, it caught me on the cusp, and still was able
to thrill this then young rocker with its complexity and dexterity. The album
sleeve, the work of Aubrey Powell and the team at Hipgnosis, has become iconic,
with the inflatable pig tethered over what was then Battersea Power Station. It
is hard not to see this landmark and not think of the album. For the band this
album is, it seems to me, a transitional one. It draws on many of the musical
ideas in the 'big' albums, and there's a particular hark back for me to the
title track of Wish You Were Here in the 'book-end' acoustic tracks, 'Pigs on
the Wing 1 & 2', just perhaps a little simpler as a song. But between these
short songs come the three epics, each in their way pointing to what the band
would become over the next two to five years. 'Dogs' is for me the stand-out
track, and the only one that Roger Waters lets anyone else have a part in
writing. It seems to be a prophetic statement of how the UK would develop over
the coming decade under the influence of Thatcherism and rampant capitalism,
and its inevitable consequences. In 'Pigs' and to a certain degree in 'Sheep'
too, Waters is starting to get his angry head on. Maybe not yet as outspoken as
he would be in The Wall and to a greater degree in The Final Cut and his solo
material that followed, but it is still there. His targets are greed,
hypocrisy, censorship, and that fact that perhaps you can only keep people down
for so long before they take back what is theirs. This may well be seen as a
coming of age album for the band, as they graduate from the spacey, psychedelic
soundscapes of their early days, and the grand symphonic swathes of their pomp,
to a more outspoken protest rock, almost. Perhaps it began to sow the seeds of
the band's transition to stadium-filling mega stars and the inevitable
self-destruction of the old order that accompanied it. This is, for me, one of
the band's best works: different from what preceded it and what followed, but
transitional and perhaps seminal for the band's ultimate direction.
11. The Tangent – A Place in the Queue
One of the trickiest parts of putting this list together
was trying to work out which albums to leave out: if I wasn’t careful this
could’ve been dominated by a number of albums by a small number of bands, but I
didn’t want that to happen because it wouldn’t have adequately portrayed what
makes me ‘tick’ musically (which I felt it should). When I came to consider the
output of one of my favourite contemporary bands it was such a hard decision
working out what order to put them, because they’re all so good! The Tangent
have gone through some changes over the 17 years since their debut, but Andy
Tillison’s compositions have consistently spoken to me, probably because we are
roughly from the same background and era, and think very much alike on many
things. So, I suppose I’ve slightly taken liberties here in choosing just one
album from the band’s repertoire, but I’ve done so because they had to feature,
and feature fairly highly, but I just couldn’t narrow it down other than by
choosing a representative. A Place in the Queue is that representative: it has
the epics – the magisterial In Earnest, the title track, and the ‘rock-out’
that is GPS Culture; it has the nostalgia that Andy loves so much in Lost in
London and The Sun in my Eyes; it has Andy’s evocative and poignant lyrics, and
musical virtuosity in spades; it has nods to Tangerine Dream, Canterbury, Van
der Graaf Generator, Keith Emerson, jazz, disco, rock – this is complete
progressive music. For me The Tangent are one of the pre-eminent bands of the
current Progressive scene, and as a band continue to stretch the envelope of
what ‘progressive’ music is, while never losing sight of where they’ve come
from and the traditions in which they stand, I hope that their following will
continue to expand. Andy’s continuing encouragement of younger musicians such
as Luke Machin as well as stalwarts of the stature of Jonas Reingold and Theo
Travis augurs well for the future of this music.
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