DreamLand
Underwater
2001
Uncle Buzz Records
promotional copy from the band
Disorienting, minimalistic music that seems to nod to the kraut rockers and ambient pioneers of both yesterday and today is the modus operandi on this surprising CD from Texas. The specters of Ash Ra Tempel, Brian Eno, Sylvian & Czukay and even New Zealand’s four-track wizard Roy Montgomery are raised in these eight instrumental tracks. It would be unfair, however, to imply that DreamLand is derivative of any of these artists. This duo is clearly searching for the still undiscovered nooks and crannies that may exist in the ambient/kraut/space rock territory. Neither is DreamLand a self-conciously “retro” analog synth and vintage effects museum, but thankfully, it is not a group of button-pushing computer musicians either. Johnny Rodriguez provides keyboards, “extended vocals” and Native American flutes. James Sidlo provides guitar played in a range of styles including over the top Hendrixian feedback and twangy slide guitar, but mostly he operates in the unorthodox realms of ambient guitar where volume swells and subtle loops reign supreme.
The kraut rock “studio-as-instrument” ethic is clearly at work on Underwater. Effects and signal processing are an integral part of each composition rather then mere audio decoration. Consider the guitar looper’s delight, “Brief Moon,” where forward and backward loops of twangy, lonely sounding guitar slides and arpeggios are loosely interwoven. It’s not quite Frippertronics, but more like Ry Cooder experimenting with a sophisticated digital delay unit.
Another example is the album’s spooky second track, “I, Frequency, Dream in Soundwaves.” This entire piece is comprised of multi-tracked, slowed down vocals. This is the kind of thing Tangerine Dream was doing over 30 years ago, back in their more groundbreaking days. Even though this track can be a bit unsettling, it’s refreshing to hear recording artists attempt something so conceptually simple, yet as successful as this.
Underwater is an apt title for this CD. At times it’s dark, murky and mysterious. Other times it’s comforting and peaceful in its womb-like serenity. Most of the time it’s a little bit of both. Almost always it’s top-notch. Truly ambient music that is thankfully devoid of any of today’s electronica clichés or new age fluff is the bottom line on this CD. If you need something new that’s relatively mellow but unpredictable to listen to in the dark, DreamLand’s Underwater is a very worthy addition to your CD collection. – SH
Visit the Uncle Buzz Records website.
Listen to an excerpt of "Sunspots" from DreamLand's Underwater.
MP3 format. 1:00/483k
Genesis
Trespass
1970
Virgin/Charisma
Genesis, every bit the school-chum band (or perhaps even art-rock garage band), released its second album, Trespass, in 1970. The album cover graphics, by Paul Whitehead, perhaps best summarize the tension in Genesis’ music at this stage of its career: romantic quaintness with the threat of violence by the knife never far removed. Genesis was indeed making its mark in the early years of the decade and helping to create the category of progressive rock proper with a musicality that was at once soothing and dangerous.
Trespass is the album just prior to the emergence of the band’s most noteworthy lineup; Phil Collins and Steve Hackett are not yet in the fold, and in their stead are John Mayhew on percussion, and Anthony Phillips on guitar. Regardless, what was then and would continue to be the nucleus of the band was intact: Peter Gabriel on vocals and flute, Anthony (Tony) Banks on keyboards, and Michael (Mike) Rutherford on various stringed instruments. The band is largely well synchronized and writing with finesse and dexterity, and it would not be too extreme a suggestion to say that symphonic progressive rock has one of its better examples in Trespass.
The album starts with the excellent “Looking for Someone.” Peter Gabriel has not quite found his smoother voice within Trespass, and at times his singing style is too shrill and too jarring (especially in the high end), but his phrasing ability and control of vocal dynamic are quite interesting and command the listener’s ear. Although the mix is poor in places (muddy and unseperated), the playing is stellar. Banks’ continuous switching between organ and acoustic piano fleshes the song out nicely, and the alternation between softer passages and driving tempo changes is well conceived. At moments, the music reminds the well acquainted Jethro Tull fan of Thick as a Brick, especially in the more frantic, hard rock-oriented sections, but with perhaps less dependency on reprised arena riffs. Mayhew is rather busy in his drumming, but he and Rutherford hold the rhythm solidly. Phillips' fretwork – and this will be true throughout Trespass when he is soloing or adding electric guitar flavor – is sometimes dead-on but also sometimes annoying, as he incorporates a thin tone and an extremely abrupt staccato technique. The conclusion is dramatic and evidences an incorporation of classical music motifs. This is a great opener, especially with regard to structural variety.
“White Mountain” follows, slightly recalling the work of early King Crimson. (The overall sense is that perhaps both Crimson and Tull were studying the Genesis output closely in the progressive rock heyday, and borrowing as suitable.) Anthony Phillips is at his best here with crisp, clean arpeggio work. The vocal mix is blurry and again, Gabriel is shrieking here and there, but this tune is another fine example of complex popular music – the gift of the era, truly. The song is a timepiece, undoubtedly, with its use of flute and recorder (compare it to several of Tull’s Aqualung tracks, or tracks by Yes and Led Zeppelin), but the pastoral atmosphere is mellow and clean and sits against the more mobile instrumental segments in sharp contrast. There is a slower, very creepy, very dark bridge, which is haunting and bleak and then moves into a breakneck run: music for chase film footage. The transitions within the track are delightful and edgy, maintaining the listener’s focus.
Unfortunately, the album slides into a minor lull with the next three tracks: “Visions of Angels,” “Stagnation,” and “Dusk.” “Visions” is maybe the weakest song of the bunch, a bit pretentious (using “mirth” in the lyrics) and weighted with idiosyncratic theological imagery. Here, and in “Dusk,” the vocal harmonies sound strikingly comparable to The Bee Gees of the late ‘60s – not at all a terrible problem (The Bee Gees were first-rate at that time), but slightly twee and affected. Mike Rutherford plays his most expressive bass lines in “Visions,” but Mayhew tries the listener’s patience with repeated drum rolls – too much, too often. A bombastic ending – not the first or last in the annals of progressive rock – sours the tune to a degree. “Stagnation” is bland, again very twee and quite slow. Tony Banks is marvelous throughout the song, saving it, honestly. In fact, with this track one realizes that Banks’ keyboard acumen is primarily giving Genesis its unique sound (along with Gabriel’s voicings), a realization that holds up and increases upon additional exposure to the album. “Stagnation” is the sort of song that will pave the way for bands like Styx and Boston, not to mention Marillion, for good or ill: overreaching and pompous at times, but with a balanced modulation between major and minor key themes. “Dusk” is hardly different than “Visions” or “Stagnation,” but the opening double-tracked guitar melody is sweet, the up-tempo instrumental break is fiery (allowing Gabriel his most lively flute offering), and the final measures are tense and appropriate, with the guitar gingerly laid over a very symphonic piano fill. There is nothing deplorable in these three tunes; they are occasionally overwrought and soporific, but perhaps in some way they serve well as repose between the more forceful minutes of Trespass.
The album ends with "The Knife," the highlight of Trespass and a future live staple, hinting at the Genesis to come. (It is not incidental, by the way, that bands in their prime can and do hold the best track for last; a welcome show of strength, when it is far easier to front-load the release and then tack filler onto the album.) Rollicking and powerful from the outset, the opening groove reeks of criminality and suspicious intent. The ensemble playing is tight throughout the track, and Banks’ galloping organ sets an enthusiastically racing speed. Anthony Phillips is off-track in most of "The Knife" – his style is too monotonous and attenuated – but his contribution after the lines
Stand up and fight for you know we are right
We must strike at the lies that have spread like disease through our minds
is cutting and strong: his creative high-water mark upon Trespass. Generally, the electric guitar leads are abrasive, jagged, and sharp here – intentionally knifelike? Gabriel gets a second notable flute solo (compared with Ian Anderson, a mild and calm technique but not passive or heartless) and the delayed guitar chords echo both Peter Banks’ and Steve Howe’s playing in Yes. The band is vicious after the rambling, chaotic mob-and-police sound effects, and overall, the track is remarkable for its dark foreboding and anxious intensity.
Symphonic rock music would continue after the release of Trespass, but Genesis’ sophomore effort is a mainly compelling addition to the niche, and may even be one of the best examples of the style. Normally, and undeservedly, Trespass seems to receive short-shrift from prog fans and Genesis fans. This is a thoroughly worthwhile album, even in its more relaxed moments, and when it rips, or reveals in tense interplay, it is top-notch. Trespass is recommended especially for fans of Jethro Tull, King Crimson, Yes, who may have skipped over Genesis, for whatever reason. Start with Trespass and hear the genre being created and developed in completely masterful fashion. – JS
Hostsonaten
Springsong
2001
Sublime Label
promotional copy from Sublime Label
Remember LPs: those vast 12-inch expanses of black plastic housed in a gatefold cardboard package? In the prog rock world, especially, they were works of art – multimedia masterpieces that unified the visual with the aural and transported the audience to another realm that disappeared when the needle disengaged the vinyl.
At least as much was lost as was gained with the digital revolution. Sure, a new level of durability and clarity was ushered in, but the total artistic vision was compromised. The visuals were reduced to a 4.75-inch square housed in flimsy, all-too-brittle plastic. Original art, liner notes and lyric sheets were lost. And why bother with the master tapes? Many of the first CDs (especially in the prog world) were simply copied off that old vinyl that supposedly sounded so bad in the first place. Hurrah! Cold digital sound in a brittle plastic package! For the big record companies, the revolution was more about saving money than producing a better product. Now, after the advent of MP3s, the concept of the album as art seems on the verge of extinction.
All is not entirely lost yet, of course. There are still some great artists working with small, intelligent record labels who still remember how it used to be. They’re doing the best they can to produce good music and to provide it in a package that compliments the music – that plays a part in transporting you once again to better, more interesting places.
One such work of art is the latest from Italian prog band Hostsonaten. Springsong is an instrumental album that sounds and looks better than much of what has come out of the prog rock revival movement in the last few years.
For starters, the packaging is stunning. It draws the prospective listener in and arouses interest in the music just by its sheer beauty and uniqueness. This CD comes housed in a beautiful textured white paper cover that is elegantly designed. This cover houses 10 cards, each with beautiful drawings of animals from an old illuminated manuscript of the Bible. On the back of each card is information about each song. An extra card has a few short paragraphs that explain the concept of the album: a celebration of the season of spring.
The celebration lasts throughout the duration of the album’s nine instrumental pieces. The entire album is an exercise in unabashed pastoral beauty. Sparkling acoustic 12-string guitar leads an ensemble of mostly acoustic instruments throughout much of the album. Flute, violin, piano and drums are usually the most prominent accompaniment, but saxophones, tin whistles, Mellotron, Moog, electric guitar, bass guitar and even French bagpipes contribute to Springsong’s open country joy.
Hostsonaten move in a leisurely fashion through the majority of the music presented on Springsong. The first four pieces on the album are all fairly slow and mellow with only a few moments of faster paced material. The opening track, “In the Open Fields” serves as a sort of prologue. It nicely sets the mood by presenting – with minimal instrumentation – some of the melodic themes that will recur throughout the album. Track two, “Kemper/Springtheme” reiterates some of the same melodies but vacillates between mellow rock and an almost folk/country style by utilizing violin and tin whistle before closing with a soaring electric guitar solo.
Other tracks like “The Underwater” find the band dabbling in more adventurous territory. Here, jazzy piano chords and a honking soprano saxophone solo dance with spirited rock bass and drums to faintly echo days of Soft Machine passed before giving way to “The Second Reprise” and another high-flying guitar solo.
The last and longest piece on Springsong is the just about the only one to fully deliver the typical prog rock goods that Hostsonaten hint at throughout the whole CD. At 13 minutes, the band has plenty of time to develop new themes and restate familiar ones. This is the most energetic and driving piece on the album, and it also provides one or two great crescendos that really bring the previous 40 minutes or so to fruition.
There are very few negative criticisms this writer can make about this album, but two flaws stand out. Drummer Federico Foglia seems to have just recently discovered the idea of hitting the snare drum between the fourth and fifth beat of the measure. The drummer for the band Live wore out this boring technique several years ago. It is now a cliché and is used far too much here. It also seems that some portions of this album show a rather commercial sounding “Celtic” new age influence. The Celtic touches are great when they sound authentic and exotic, but on rare occasions they just sound too familiar and overly sentimental.
This album is at its best when it is at either end of the spectrum of music it incorporates. Its most traditional folk and classically influenced moments as well as its most avant-garde moments are the most interesting. The middle ground in between is less so, but there is little of it.
It is hard to compare Springsong with the music of any other prog band. It’s tempting to drop names like Änglagård and Celeste, but this music is substantially simpler and nowhere near as ‘Tron-soaked as those two names would suggest. Clannad is another name that comes to mind due to the melding of jazz and Celtic styles. Also, while there are certainly many common melodic and conceptual themes running through Springsong, this is not exactly typical symphonic progressive rock. This is, however, a very fine album that will appeal to almost anyone willing to quietly savor and enjoy the pleasures found in beautiful melodies and an evocative, pastoral atmosphere. – SH
Visit the Hostsonaten website.
Listen to an excerpt of "Toward the Sea" from Hostsonaten's Springsong.
MP3 format. :51/423k
Jethro Tull
Stand Up
1969
Chrysalis
In late 1969, amidst the peak of a British Blues outbreak that dominated the English club scene and BBC airwaves, Jethro Tull’s ascending star could shine no more brightly. The band was riding a swelling wave of popularity in response both to its successful debut release, This Was, and its live appearances at the Marquee Club, the Sunbury Jazz & Blues Festival, and opening for Pink Floyd at a free show in London’s Hyde Park. Tull’s unique and peculiar mixture of raw blues, jazz motifs, pop sensibility, and folkish nuance attracted a diverse listening audience. Although the band had by this time lost guitarist Mick Abrahams and his blues-purist approach, still, it persevered, replacing Abrahams with the more-than-capable and somewhat more versatile skill of Martin Barre. Frontman Ian Anderson garnered considerable attention and musical press with his theatrical flutework and stage drama, and by the time Tull released its second recording, Stand Up – just after issuing “Living in the Past” (with its tricky, non-commercial 5/4 beat) to strong acclaim – the band was in high demand.
Stand Up, along with The Beatles’ output from Rubber Soul through Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Moody Blues’ Nights in White Satin, Pink Floyd’s Piper at the Gates of Dawn, and perhaps The Who’s Tommy, stands as one of the finest proto-progressive rock recordings ever made. The album isn’t quite “prog” proper; Tull would have a few years yet before it could stretch out and produce art rock masterpieces in the order of Thick as a Brick and A Passion Play. However, all of the foundational elements of the early 1970s progressive rock boom are there, in Stand Up, and the present-day listener, in hindsight, can hear the prog-train starting down the tracks.
Of course, that is not to say Jethro Tull was totally inclined to abandon the blues at this juncture of its career. Rather, under Ian Anderson’s guidance, Tull – with its tight rhythm section of Clive Bunker on drums and Glen Cornick on bass guitar – branched out into a variety of musical styles, with blues-based rock ‘n’ roll as its trunk. Stand Up offers several blues-oriented pieces, including “A New Day Yesterday” and “We Used to Know;” the recording quality of these tunes is thick and coffeehouse-smoky, but pleasantly so, and any fans of John Mayall, Peter Green and Fleetwood Mac, or Cream might find some enjoyment therein. As well, certain songs – “Back to the Family,” for example, and “Nothing is Easy” – move into the driving heaviness of early Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin, as Tull establishes its capability with thundering riffs. Over the top of it all is Anderson’s flute, an odd choice perhaps in a blues/hard rock context (and this was Mick Abraham’s opinion also), but it tends to fit more often than not – the introduction to “Nothing is Easy” sets the pace and timbre of the song with acumen. Where the flute is inappropriate, Ian Anderson simply blows the harmonica. The Roland Kirk legacy in Ian’s nascent flute style is obvious, as he mutters and exclaims during breath intake, but if anything, it’s humorous to hear someone wear an influence so openly upon the sleeve.
The more memorable tunes of Stand Up are those in which Jethro Tull starts its transformation into a progressive rock innovator. “Jeffrey Goes to Leicester Square” begins with balalaika and tuned percussion and segues into a mock-Slavic folk melody resting upon well-played hand percussion, and gives out tentative hints of “Mother Goose” and “Wond’ring Aloud” from Aqualung. A second tune, “Fat Man,” is similarly cast in a folk setting, this time the Middle East, and – despite the sheer cruelty of the lyrics and their offensively nasal delivery – the music is thrilling and enthusiastic. Obviously, Tull on Stand Up is playing within the hippy zeitgeist of the late ‘60s, and it is definitely riding along with Zeppelin and Traffic in terms of acoustic arrangement and musicianship, but the band introduces world music into its solid rock delivery expertly.
In “Bouree,” a snippet from J.S. Bach nonetheless, Tull showcases its affinity for both classical music and jazz, and here, again, we see the band making headway toward the art rock period, incorporating diverse musical forms into popular tunecraft. Glen Cornick gets a share of the spotlight here with a nice solo incorporating bass chords.
“Reasons for Waiting” is the beginning of a long-standing trend in Tull’s catalog: Anderson, with acoustic guitar, as some minstrel out of the legendary past. Here, he’s backed by a string accompaniment, a cliché today but at the time a novel willingness to move rock music away from the twelve-bar blues.
Chrysalis Records (under the aegis of Capitol Records) has released remastered versions of Jethro Tull’s first three albums, each with bonus tracks. Stand Up includes the aforementioned “Living in the Past,” and “Sweet Dream,” a brilliantly energetic composition using a very brash horn chart with a Spanish, conquistador feel, as well as two other tunes from the era. Generally, the remaster is a mild improvement over earlier CD releases; the mix is clean and listenable, and extremely well balanced, but there’s no huge increase in sonic integrity. Regardless, this is an outstanding example of Tull’s early musical finesse and power – really, Stand Up made Tull’s career, along with “Living in the Past” – and a fine move forward for the band. It is remarkable indeed (and admirable) that, once hitting such a high-water mark, Tull continued to reinvent itself and expand musically, at least through Warchild (if not beyond). Fans of Tull’s more progressive offerings, curious about the origins of such complex and intricate performances, might like to try Stand Up, and fans of late ‘60s-early ‘70s rock ‘n’ roll would definitely find much of interest in the album. For Jethro Tull, at the tail-end of 1969, more impressive music was yet to come, but Stand Up did not and does not fail to command attention. – JS
National Health
Complete
1990
East Side Digital
What do prog rockers listen to when they grow up? For many prog fans there eventually comes a time when they realize they don’t necessarily need any more albums with lyrics about starship troopers and purple pipers. But the urge for rock music comprised of unusual time signatures, unorthodox song forms and long instrumental passages is often still hard to resist in these more mature years. So where does one turn for all the musical goods without the ancillary sequined capes and rotating drum risers?
One of the best groups to try is National Health. This band formed in the late ‘70s in the wake of the big-name English bands like Yes and Genesis (and its members’ previous bands Egg, Gilgamesh and Hatfield & the North) only to find out that the record companies weren’t interested in progressive rock anymore. This was a shame because National Health had everything that made prog great and little of what many people hated so much about it.
Like so many classic English prog bands, the lineup of National Health changed many times over the course of its too-short career. The core group consisted of Dave Stewart on keyboards, Phil Miller on guitar and Pip Pyle on drums. Other well known musicians like Bill Bruford, Steve Hillage, Mont Campbell, John Greaves, Amanda Parsons and Alan Gowen would rotate in and out over the course of the group’s lifetime. National Health released only three albums during its existence. All three and two bonus tracks are contained in Complete’s two CD set.
National Health released its self-titled debut album in 1977. The aforementioned big name prog bands were all rapidly losing their creative steam by this time, but National Health’s debut proved without a doubt that the ideals of prog rock were far from dead. The album pulls no punches by beginning with a 14-minute piece that rivals the best of the sidelong tracks by the big boys from four or five years prior. “Tenemos Roads” presents a main melodic theme and organ and guitar solos for nearly six minutes before any vocals appear. Clearly, National Health had little use for conventional song forms. When the vocals finally do appear, they do so in impossibly high, clear, tones by Canterbury vocal queen Amanda Parsons. Of course, this is just the beginning. By track’s end, we have been treated to deliciously overdriven Hammond organ solos, a delicate – almost ambient – flute and Fender Rhodes piano duet, more beautiful vocals and wacky synthesizer noises galore! One thing that stands out on “Tenemos Roads” is National Health’s unique propensity for using two or more instruments to play the exact same melody simultaneously. In this piece it is usually the vocals and the guitar that do so, but synthesizer, organ and any of the woodwinds played by guest musicians are occasionally subject to this treatment by the band.
As if “Tenemos Roads” wasn’t enough, there are four more excellent tracks on this album. The entrancing “Brujo” displays the band’s lighter side with delicate melodies for flute and voice for the first few minutes before launching into a series of jazzy solos on synthesizer, organ and guitar. While these solos are often complex and played at a quick tempo, this is not gratuitous shredding, but a tasteful, yet accomplished display of skill.
National Health is probably the best of the three albums contained in Complete, but there are still plenty more musical gems on this set.
National Health’s second album, Of Queues and Cures, released in 1978, is in many ways a very different beast from National Health. Alan Gowen left the band and all the keyboard duties to Dave Stewart. This alone amounted to a dramatically different sonic palette with which the band would work, as Stewart sticks mainly to organ and piano on the second album. The absence of Amanda Parsons’ vocals is also acutely felt. Only one track features any singing, which is provided by bassist John Greaves. The result of this new lineup is music that is more focused, complex, masculine and slightly more intellectual in a sly, witty kind of way. Newly added to the mixture are some moments of forceful improvisational playing á la Henry Cow, but gone is much of the delicate dreaminess found in portions of “Brujo” and “Tenemos Roads” on the first album. Pieces like “The Collapso” and the 12-minute “Squarer for Maud” show Stewart leading the group in a much more avant-garde direction as well.
While Dave Stewart and company certainly crammed as many different themes and solos as possible into these pieces, the music seems to evolve and flow much more naturally than that of many other prog bands. Fuzzed out organ solos and woodwind melodies are linked together by themes that appear, modulate in some way, then disappear, often never to return. It can be tough listening at times, especially in the longer pieces. National Health’s jazz roots really show more on Of Queues and Cures than on the first album, so one’s enjoyment level on this album may depend a lot on how much jazz-solo indulgence one can endure. The patient will usually feel rewarded, however.
National Health’s third album, D.S. al Coda, was recorded in late 1981 in tribute to former member Alan Gowen, who died of leukemia a few months earlier. While the circumstance leading to the recording of this album was most unfortunate, it did provide the catalyst for the production of one last National Health album for fans to enjoy. Gowen wrote every piece on this album, so it has a dramatically different feel from the first two albums, which were more collaborative efforts. This music is often much closer to jazz fusion than typical progressive rock, but it is quite good compared to much of what was coming out of the already stagnating fusion scene of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. It’s also interesting to note the subtle but instantly noticeable musical hallmarks of the time period creeping into the music of a band whose two previous works were firmly grounded in the sounds of the ‘70s. The overall sound is a bit more compressed. The trademark Dave Stewart overdriven organ is largely replaced with various polyphonic synths, and an electronic drum set even creeps into one or two tracks. Fortunately, however, the album sounds remarkably good by prog-purist standards, especially for an album recorded in the early ‘80s.
“Portrait of a Shrinking Man,” “Black Hat” and “Toad of Toad Hall” show the band heading in the direction of slightly more commercial (one might even say “smooth”) jazz direction, but all three are still quite good. The band is merely heading toward Smooth Jazz Land, they haven’t arrived there yet. These tracks are all worlds better than the kind of crap Kenny G. would be piping into waiting rooms and elevators a decade later.
Guest vocalist Richard Sinclair (Caravan, Camel) provides some wonderful, super mellow scat-style vocals against a backdrop of multi-tracked flutes and Fender Rhodes piano on “Black Hat.” Here again, the band flirts with the old two-instruments-playing-the-same-melody-trick, so it’s still sounds like National Health.
“T.N.T.F.X,” “I Feel a Night Coming On,” “Shining Water” and “Flanagan’s People” are more in the Of Queues and Cures style: aggressive, complex, full of solos and sometimes even a bit noisy. These are fun tracks, though they offer less to chew on than most of the tracks on the first two albums. Aside from “Shining Water,” these are short tracks by prog standards. Six of the eight tracks on D.S. al Coda are less than 6 minutes long.
While D.S. al Coda doesn’t seem to garner as much respect among fans as National Health’s first two albums, it is still a very enjoyable, albeit different album and a fitting end to this set.
For anyone who hasn’t yet investigated the so-called Canterbury branch of English progressive rock, Complete is an excellent set with which to start. All three of the albums contained in Complete are very good to excellent, and no progressive rock fan’s music collection is complete without National Health’s first album at least. Also, Dave Stewart’s extensive and hilariously acrid liner notes to this set are extremely interesting reading. Anyone interested in the rise and fall of the commercial acceptance of progressive rock as well as the history of National Health and the greater Canterbury scene will enjoy them and find them uniquely parallel to National Health’s brand of whimsical yet intelligent instrumental rock. – SH
Listen to an excerpt of "Borogoves pt. 1" from National Health's Complete.
MP3 format. 1:01/506k
