Forty Years On... Rush - A Farewell To Kings

As a teenager, my introduction to Rush came, I think, through 2112, with its side-long sci-fi epic, and collection of shorter songs. This was my introduction to Geddy Lee's trademark vocals - a kind of harsher Jon Anderson; Neil Peart's enigmatic lyrics; and Alex Lifeson's sweeping guitars.

A Farewell To Kings, its successor, came out in September 1977, just as I was embarking on my A-Level studies, and it seemed to me to be a 'grown-up' album, alongside the cheeky, rude, laddish punk of The Sex Pistols and their ilk. I suppose I was still trying to find where my musical tastes lay: was it (as John Miles emoted) 'music of the future' or 'music of the past' that was to guide my burgeoning adulthood? I think, in the end, it was a bit of both - though as I get older, the more I delve back.

A Farewell To Kings still has that mix of long- and short-form songs that Rush had developed over the last couple of releases, but here a little more integrated, rather than short songs on one side and long on the other. It opens with the title track, which itself opens with acoustic guitar and keyboards, before the crash of cymbals and the full electric band enter. There appear to be a number of distinct themes present, but it is a good rocker with some interesting changes in tempo and signature, and it ends with a nod to a later track (and surprise hit single!). Xanadu starts ponderously with interesting percussion and guitar, building over the drone of keyboards, before the 7/8 guitar riff comes in. (As a 16 year-old I learnt to play this riff, along with others in this song!) I have to say that this is still one of my favourite Rush songs, for its mix of styles, its complexity and its sheer fun, rather than its talk of immortality or its allusions to Coleridge. It's just a great song, and still has the excitement I loved as a young lad! Side One ends with the hit single from the album, Closer To The Heart, which reached the dizzy heights of number 36 on the UK charts! It was quite an achievement in those days for music such as this to potentially be on Top of the Pops, so I and may of my friends rejoiced at its success, even though, on reflection, it's not that great a song - good, but not great.

Side Two opens with the other single from the album, but one which didn't trouble the charts - Cinderella Man. This is an odd song, as it combines a harder edge with acoustic passages, and a more conventional song structure but some experimental guitar work in the instrumental section. Maybe it was a bit too much for the British record-buying public at the time. Madrigal, the shortest song on the album, may have been a better bet as a single. It is a simple ballad, and quite beautiful in its overall feel, if a little twee. Not a dance-floor song, but maybe one for a slow dance at the end of the evening. The album ends with Cygnus X-1 - or at least part one of it - the beginning of a sci-fi epic about a spacecraft flying into a black hole and the consequences thereof. There are some interesting musical themes to accompany the fantastic journey, and the lyric sheet contains the enigmatic 'to be continued' which heightened my and some of my classmates' anticipation for the next album, 'Hemispheres', which brought the tale to its philosophical climax!

Returning to this album after a while I come to it with mixed feelings. This was the band's first album to chart in the UK, and produced their first hit single, so in that sense it was an important release for them. Some tracks, like Xanadu and, to a slightly lesser degree, Madrigal, still stand out; Cinderella Man never really did it for me, to be honest, and the rest is definitely take it or leave it. but this is only one in a long line of material from the band, and while most of their 80s output sounds very same-y to me, there are still some great songs in their repertoire, and maybe it's not quite time to say farewell to A Farewell To Kings, just yet.

The Train now arriving...

Two years ago I was privileged to attend the first two nights of Big Big Train's live shows at King's Place, London, and a delight they were, as anyone can witness by watching their Blu-ray release of the shows, Stone & Steel. So when they announced last year that they were planning some more shows in the capital, in a larger venue, I snapped up tickets as soon as possible for the opening night (well, actually my son snapped up the tickets, as I was in the US when they went on sale!).

Since the announcement of the concerts the band have not been idle, releasing 'Folklore', 'Grimspound' and (much to the delight of their growing band of supporters - the 'Passengers') the surprise Summer Solstice-released album 'The Second Brightest Star', and the epic conglomeration of 'London Song'. This gave them much new material to bring to the live arena, as well as their extensive back catalogue.

I wrote my reflections on the 2015 concerts at the time, and one thing that struck me about that occasion, as well as this year's events, is that these were so much more than just a series of concerts by a rock band. These were a gathering of family, from the four corners of the world, united by a common love of each other and of exceptional music, played with skill and passion.

My son and I travelled from the Midlands to London by train on the morning of Friday 29th September, and made our way, via Marylebone Road, Baker Street, Oxford Street and Hyde Park, to Kensington, where we met with around 50 other Passengers for curry. The camaraderie was amazing, as old friends were reacquainted, virtual friends became real, and new relationships were sparked. From there, suitably replete, we then proceeded to overwhelm The Antelope, a hostelry local to the gig venue, before leaving for Cadogan Hall and the principal reason for our gathering. Merch was purchased from the ever-obliging Nellie Pitts and her Merch Desk crew, and then we took our seats, ready for the show.

The anticipation was tangible as the lights faded, and Rachel Hall took the stage alone to begin the overture to the opening number, 'Folklore', being gradually joined by the brass section and the other members of the band: Andy, Danny, Nick, Rikard, Dave, Greg and finally David. The set continued with mostly material from the recent albums, but with the delightful inclusion of a track from 2009's 'The Underfall Yard', 'Last Train'. Accompanying the songs were images on the screen behind the band which enhanced the total experience wonderfully. The first half set was: Folklore, Brave Captain, Last Train, London Plane, Meadowlands & A Mead Hall in Winter.

Sadly, for those of us at the Friday concert, there were a number of issues with the sound, particularly for those of us in the gallery, which did mar the experience a little, but these were addressed during the break, and things were better in the second half. The interval was further enlivened by the sighting of none other than Tony Banks in the gallery!

The second half drew more on the band's older material as well as the newer stuff, with four songs that had been played at King's Place making the set list again. The full second half set was: Experimental Gentlemen, Swan Hunter, Judas Unrepentant, Transit of Venus..., East Coast Racer, Telling the Bees and Victorian Brickwork, with an encore of a drum solo from Nick d'Virgilio later enhanced by the brass section, and a final show-stopping rendition of Wassail. A truly moving, ecstatic experience for all who were there, I think.

For many the night was not over, as the band then mingled with Passengers to chat, sign programmes, and pose for selfies. Sadly I had to leave to catch the Last Train (!) home. For many, too, the weekend was not over, and reports of the two further concerts, on Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon, testify to the sound issues having been resolved and to the band relaxing into their task a little more, to astounding effect. I'm only sorry that I wasn't able to be there for the further shows, but a DVD/ Blu-ray is, I believe, on the cards, for which I rejoice!

The members of this band have managed to create not just heart-wrenching, soul-stirring and joy-bringing music of the highest quality, in both the studio and live settings, but also, around that music, a global community of like-minded people that I have rarely seen anywhere else. It was a pleasure to meet up with some of them last Friday in person, and to continue that relationship virtually. This is music, and community, that needs to travel the world: here's hoping that it will continue to do so!

(There are no photos, as we were requested not to take them)

Forty Years On... Queen - News Of The World

Hitting the 'big time' as they did with the phenomenal success of Bohemian Rhapsody in Christmas 1975, it was about that time that I became acquainted with the music of Queen in a proper way. I'd been aware of stuff like Killer Queen previously, but never really explored the band further until then. A Night at the Opera was an eye-opener for me, and demonstrated the breadth of the band's song-writing talent, from neo-operatic to almost vaudeville. A Day at the Races followed the following year, but that left me a little cold, as it seemed to me to be almost a repeat of 'Night...'.

As we moved into the autumn of 1977, a new Queen album was mooted. Would it be more of the same or not? Perhaps as a taster for what was to come (isn't that what singles were?) the band released the opening two tracks as a double-A side single, which gave a big hint of what we were to expect.

'News of the World' appeared on 28 October. There were intimations of what had gone before - this was definitely Queen - but new directions were evident too. It would be fair to say that the opening two songs: 'We Will Rock You' and 'We Are The Champions' have gone on to become anthemic, and at the time they were different and exciting - though '...Champions'  is perhaps more 'Bo Rhap'-ish with its operatic trills in the 'on and on and on' sections. 'Sheer Heart Attack' was, I thought at the time, a rebuttal to the raw energy and simplicity of punk (though it had been around in some form since the band made the album of the same name in 1974). All the band were involved in song-writing here: May produces some wonderful quirky blues with 'Sleeping on the Sidewalk', and something approaching the prog of 'The Prophet's Song' with 'It's Late'; and John Deacon again showed himself to be a fine exponent with 'Spread Your Wings' - on a par with his 'You're My Best Friend' from 'Night...' (maybe 'Who Needs You' is more akin to 'You and I' on 'Day...'). Taylor's 'Fight From The Inside' and Mercury's 'Get Down Make Love' also show a new direction in the band's music which proved to be innovative, if a little confusing to a pubescent rock fan: was this rock or not?

To my mind this was the band's last really good album, ending a sequence that began with maybe their debut and definitely their sophomoric offering: I never really 'got' their material from 'Jazz' onwards. But this is a fitting end (for me) to an excellent run at the start of what was to become a glittering career.

Forty Years On... Pink Floyd - Animals

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.

Forty Years On... Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell

There are certain events in history that imprint themselves into the psyche in such a way that, so they say, you can remember where you were when something happened, or you heard of its happening. The death of John Lennon, and of Diana, and 9/11 are such events for me - they will always be associated with certain places in my mind.

 And so is Meat Loaf's album, Bat Out Of Hell: not his debut - that came in 1971, but his major label debut. Forty years on (as the title says) I can still remember where I was when I first heard this record. It was in a small club in the centre of Harrogate, upstairs in a back street just near the bus station, that went by the name of 'PG's' (the club moved to another venue, nearer the Royal Hall, a short while later). PG's was a wonderful club, named after its mainstay, Paul Gerrett, the former keyboard player with local band 'Wally', and it catered for a wide range of rock styles in its live and recorded music. And it was here, as I have said, that I first encountered the delight that was Meat Loaf's 'Bat Out Of Hell.'


What can one say about this album? Firstly, the album cover is stunning and iconic: Richard Corben's biker emerging from the grave, the lush red of the sky, and the enormous bat standing atop the mausoleum, is rightly judged to be one of the best album covers of all time. The music is principally the work of Jim Steinman, acknowledged on the cover after some contentious wrangling with the label, and owes much to Todd Rundgren's production for finding the sound. In fact, the combination of Steinman's writing, Rundgren's production and Meat Loaf's vocals seem to have found the perfect fit here.

For a teenager in the 1970s, this album brought a wonderful amalgam of motorcycles, excitement and the fumblings of pubescent sexual encounters. The album begins with a road accident in which the unnamed 'hero' of the songs is dying, and the rest of the album sees him reliving some of the formative scenes of his young life. These are played out in a heat of heavy guitars and emotive string arrangements, both of which add depth to Meat Loaf's expressive vocals. This is a heady mix of good old-fashioned rock 'n' roll (Paradise by the Dashboard Light, and the last part of All Revved Up...), ballad (Heaven Can Wait, Two Out Of Three... and For Crying Out Loud), and even some very progressive elements in the title track.

After 40 years, and around 500 weeks on the UK charts, this album still has the power to thrill me: perhaps not in the same way it did to a bike-riding, rock-loving 16 year-old, excited by the new music that was around, but as one who looks back on those days with a certain nostalgia and an equally certain longing. I was wondering whether there has been an album in recent years that has had the same (lasting?) effect on me, and although there is so much good music around at the moment, I'm struggling to find one which has had a similar emotional reaction: perhaps it's my age...