PROCOL HARUM
"Well, my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?"
Best Procol Harum site on the Net: www.procolharum.com!
General Rating: 3
ALBUM REVIEWS:
APPENDIX A: SOLO PROJECTS
APPENDIX B: Thomas Silvestri's recollections of PH live shows
Disclaimer: this page is not written by from the point of view of a Procol Harum fanatic and is not generally intended for narrow-perspective Procol Harum fanatics. If you are deeply offended by criticism, non-worshipping approach to your favourite artist, or opinions that do not match your own, do not read any further. If you are not, please consult the guidelines for sending your comments before doing so.
This page also hosts comments from the following Certified Commentators: Nick Einhorn, Ben Greenstein.
Nobody knows much about Procol Harum these days. SAD. Just because all
the people who ignore their existence, deliberately or not, miss quite
a lot. Yes, one might dismiss the band on first listen - they're not an
easy nut to sink your teeth into. Simplicity lovers will despise them for
their pomp and pretentions. Hardcore prog lovers will neglect them for
the lack of immaculate musical virtuosity. And, finally, those who just
want to have a good time with their favourite bands will probably complain
at them for their lack of diversity - after all, every next damn Procol
Harum record sounds exactly like the previous one.
They're all wrong, of course. Yes, the band had a very narrow style throughout
all of its ten years - all based on Brooker's tenor voice and keyboard
playing; but, well, so did Led Zeppelin, and it seems nobody reproaches
them. Moreover, I swear that Procol Harum were more diverse than
Led Zeppelin - simply because their songs set quite a wide series of moods,
ranging from silly comic throwaways to grandiose Bach-inspired symphonies.
Yes, the band lacked true virtuosos; but all of its musicians were quite
skilled, and Robin Trower was more than just your ordinary guitarist: together
with Fripp, those two were probably the best Hendrix imitators one could
find on the rock scene. Finally, about the pomp and pretentions.
Procol Harum are not a prog rock band by any means. Prog rock demands technical
perfection and total mastership as one of its required components, and
prog rock is always combined with meaningless, but overbloated lyrics.
Procol Harum were not technically perfect, and their lyrics had meaning.
Yes, you heard right. Keith Reid, the band's official lyricist, was probably
one of the greatest, if not the greatest, rock poets in existence.
You can hear a lot of influences in his words, Dylan not last of them,
but ultimately he developed his own style which nobody was able to top.
And he wasn't that pretentious, except for a couple of their lengthy suites
like 'In Held Twas In I'. His lyrics usually dealt with small topics of
little significance, or, at least, they were stylistically narrowed. But
the imagery is just fantastic, you gotta admit it. Listen to their debut
album and tell me I'm wrong. The lyrics, in fact, constitute a large part
of Procol's attraction - rather like Dylan's. However, the melodies attached
to these lyrics aren't usually less superb. Most of the complaints about
them probably result from the fact that Keith was primarily a poet,
not a lyricist: he wrote poetry, and poetry doesn't need to have a diverse
rhythmic structure. All the more, one has to admire the band's talents
in adjusting his compositions to their music (Elton John fared much worse
while struggling to fit Taupin's words into his song structures).
If you know anything about anything, and that anything happens to be Procol
Harum, then that anything is certainly 'A Whiter Shade Of Pale'. But believe
me, there is really much more to the band than that first (most worthy,
of course, but still not the only) single. You just need to take some time.
Not too long - their style will have you grabbed by the collar quite soon,
I guarantee. Meanwhile, take a walk with me and let's have a look at some
of the albums of this, arguably one of the world's most intelligent, bands,
shall we?
Lineup: the band was originally known as the Paramounts. These were formed
in the beginning of the Sixties and mostly played R'n'B covers. By 1967,
however, the band split up, and Brooker, one of its co-founders, formed
Procol Harum in its place. The first lineup that recorded 'Whiter Shade
Of Pale' consisted of: Gary Brooker - keyboards, vocals; Matthew
Fisher - keyboards; Dave Knights - bass; Bobby Harrison
- drums; Ray Royer - guitar. Note that Keith Reid, the lyricist,
was also considered a formal (sixth) member of the band, although he never
joined them on stage, staying behind the curtains.
This lineup, however, wasn't stable, and even before they recorded their
first LP, Harrison and Royer left, replaced by: B. J. Wilson (drums),
Robin Trower (guitar). This is the classic Procol Harum lineup as
we know it (1967-69). Both Fisher and Knights left in 1970, replaced by
Chris Copping who functioned as both a bass and a keyboard player.
Robin Trower left, 1971, replaced by Dave Ball. If you didn't love
early Harum to death, you might just as well stop here: Fisher's and Trower's
departure thin the sound, and the band was never the same (but I still
love it). Ball left, 1972, replaced by Mick Grabham. Alan Cartwright
added on base, 1972, but left before their final album in 1977 which also
featured Pete Solley on keyboards. A good mess, as you can see:
Brooker was the only constant member of the band, with drummer B. J. Wilson
coming close (unfortunately, he died in 1989).
The original lineup kinda reformed in 1991 for an album and a tour; I got
the album and, as you'll read below, it's seriously below par. Nevertheless,
what I just want to add is that Procol Harum amazes me as one of the most
consistent art rock groups in history - for years, they've been
pumping out album after album, quite a lot of which either are masterpieces
or come close; loss of key members like Fisher or Trower didn't really
have any serious impact on the individual talents of Brooker as a composer
or Reid as a lyricist. Just follow my reviews and see the endless row of
eights and nines - you'll get the idea. And don't you dare thinking I'm
biased towards Procol Harum - I started out with a bias against
the band, in fact.
What do YOU think about Procol Harum? Mail your ideas
General Evaluation:
Listenability: 4/5. One
of the most accessible art-rock bands ever - unless you find the music
boring and repetitive, that is.
Resonance: 3/5. Gary's singing
might not always be resonant, and the pomp sometimes drowns out the message;
but don't forget that Keith Reid is one of art rock's best lyricists, after
all.
Originality: 3/5. 'Whiter Shade
Of Pale', eh? Unfortunately (or fortunately?), the Procol sound never changed
much over the years.
Adequacy: 3/5. Some useless
pomp at times, but overall, they're pretty decent.
Overall: 3.25 = *
* * on the rating scale.
Your worthy comments:
Joan May <jem33@webtv.net> (03.09.99)
Hello!
Enjoyed reading your reviews of the Procol Harum albums! A few corrections,
additions, clarifications:
On 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' (the hit single, which was also the version
included on the album), the drummer was the great session man Bill Eyden,
not Bobby Harrison (Harrison can be heard on the rejected outtake included
on the recent Box Set, and his drumming is way inferior to Eyden's, in
my opinion)
See Eyden's page at:
http://www.procolharum.com/procolbe.htm
and the page devoted to the song at:
http://www.procolharum.com/awsop.htm
Matthew Fisher was classically trained (unlike Gary Brooker) and he
(Fisher) was the one who brought most of the classical/Bach/Baroque influence
into the band's sound. Fisher is the uncredited composer of the organ melody
of 'A Whiter Shade of Pale', and influenced Brooker in the classical direction
thereafter. Most of the band's truly Bach/Baroque sounding songs (as compared
to other classical influences such as the Romantic composers) are due to
Fisher's organ lines, which were emulated (but never equaled) by Copping
later on. Fisher also composed in Classical/Romantic styles on 'Hesperus'
and some of 'Repent Walpurgis'.
Fisher is the composer of 'Repent Walpurgis' and (in my opinion) the best
parts of "In Held Twas In I" -- 'In the Autumn of my Madness'
and 'Grand Finale'. He played and composed (uncredited) the lovely piano
solo on the latter.
The title for 'In Held...' is a combination of the first word of each of
the sections.
Fisher played the great piano on 'Wreck of the Hesperus' (uncredited until
very recently on the ASD PLUS CD).
Come visit the page devoted to Fisher at:
http://www.procolharum.com/procolmf.htm
Robin Trower wasn't really influenced by Jimi Hendrix until the Broken
Barricades album. Prior to that his main influences were the original
bluesmen such as B.B. King, and he mainly had his own style, influenced
by Fisher in the classical direction, making him sound like a wild electric
freaked out cello -- especially on the first album (his best, in my opinion,
and his! -- see his 1980 Guitar Player Interview on the page devoted to
him):
http://www.procolharum.com/procolrt.htm
The singer who butchered 'Grand Hotel' on the Symphonic album was Jerry Hadley, not Tom Jones. Jones butchered 'Simple Sister'.
B.J. Wilson (RIP) died in 1990, not 1989. Thanks for acknowledging his
greatness in your review of Grand Hotel and Prodigal Stranger
- it sure sounds different without him, doesn't it!!! Come visit BJ's page
at:
http://www.procolharum.com/procolbj.htm
<kenneth.e.willis@bt.com> (13.09.99)
i am delighted to find that there is somebody else out there who rates
Procol Harum as highly as i do. Yes, Keith Reed is a poet and a brilliant
one at that.
Yes, one of Procol's strengths is the way they contrast the piano and the
organ, and, speaking of organs, i agree with Joan May's comments. Matthew
Fisher is under-rated and his absence is notable -- as good as the other
organists were -- as can be demonstrated by listening to Prodigal Stranger.
Straightaway there is a feel to Procol Harum that hasn't been there since
A Salty Dog and it makes a very welcome return. True, Fisher is
not the only one returning -- Robin Trower has also been sadly missed.
and his presence on this album is another factor in making this a "proper"
Procol album. Trower, for me, is another guitarist who deserves to be so
much more well known than he is (Steve Hackett being another, but that's
another story!).
Tim Ehrgott <TimothyP16@aol.com> (22.02.2000)
Appreciate the site. Was surprised at your comment about the group's
musicianship. I remember talking to an old rocker who had been around in
the '60s, and he just raved about their abilities, thought they were one
of the best bands ever when it came to abilities. Seems to fit other things
I've read.
Anyway, been a Procol fan ever since I first heard the concert version
of 'Conquistador'. Still listening to it and loving the different versions
of the song I've collected, along with the others.
Some other comments after reading your reviews:
There seem to be a lot of Matthew Fisher sycophants out there, who want
to bolster his contribution to the band at the expense of Brooker. Was
he important? Absolutely. Was he the best? No, but then PH was at its best
when it incorporated all its players.
Eric Carmen used some Rachmaninoff in songs.
'Whiter Shade of Pale' was not a Bach song: Bach-inspired. See PDQ Bach's
comments.
'In Held Twas in I': First word of each section of the song forms the title,
I believe. I disagree with your estimation of this piece. Think of it as
a symphony. The Buddhist section was a joke at their own expense.
'Song for a Dreamer' -- an absolute Hendrix ripoff.
'Broken Barricades' -- a wonderful drum piece by Wilson. And you're right,
he was much more responsible for PH's success that people realize.
Each album the same sound? No, no, no. Each album has a different focus
and a different sound. BB sounds nothing like GH. To me,
they were trying something different each time. The overall style may be
narrow, as with any band, but within that, there is great variety. Compare
'WSoP' with 'Still There'll be More' to 'Simple Sister' to 'Grand Hotel'.
The concert album was an event thrown together quickly. Brooker was not
lazy, he had no time to prepare. Wasn't there just one or two rehearsals?
They also left off 'Simple Sister' from that album. That was a shame. But
it is the finest rock/classical album ever done. Driving music, nothing
like the Moody Blues muzak attempts. The orchestra and the band are on
equal footing. Also, the end of 'All This and More', with the interplay
of the guitar, the voices, and the horns is just fantastic, one of the
highlights of their career.
Disagree on your opinion of PH's 9th (8 Days? Ugh. What were they
thinking?) and Something Magic, altho the latter does have some
pleasant music.
Finally, you need to listen to The Long Goodbye some more. I had
a similar, initial reaction. But look at it for what it is, just an attempt
to come at PH from a different angle, not to top the originals. It's sort
of a classical/Broadway take on it. And Tom Jones did not do 'GH', he did
'Simple Sister', which is terrific in spite of him. And 'the Long Goodbye'
is just gorgeous, as is the opening to 'WSoP'. Do I like it better than
the original? No way, but it helps me understand and appreciate the song
better.
Listen to it again and again, and you may come to like it. It is now one
of my favorite PH albums, altho it may be because it is an "easier"
listen and that is more conducive to my middle-aged life.
Great site. Sorry for the long comments. I first heard 'Conquistador' at
the age of 15, listening to an intercom in our basement while working on
my HO railroad. Been a lover of their music ever since.
Year Of Release: 1967
Record rating = 10
Overall rating = 13
Arguably the first serious and mature art rock record with
some of the best keyboard playing in history.
Best song: A WHITER SHADE OF PALE
You might make the mistake of thinking 'A Whiter Shade Of Pale' is the
only good song on the album, just because it's that notorious. Don't. Contrary
to rumour, the album isn't packed with filler at all - even if they did
have to rush to the studio and record it as quickly as possible on the
heels of their sudden success. Of course, the song is outstanding: the
way they intertwine Bach's 'Air On A G String' with blues patterns and
Reid's mystical lyrics is simply incredible. Perhaps the tune doesn't sound
as terrific now as it did way back in the summer of 1967 - after all, it
was probably the first major venture into the world of art rock. But I
still hold a soft spot in my heart for it as one of the best representatives
of the magnificent sound of Procol Harum. The only thing it lacks is a
guitar - Robin Trower hadn't yet joined at this point; but even without
the guitar it still manages to convey that feeling of measured majesty
which makes Procol captivating.
Yeah, but this is not the only high point. They might have recorded individual
songs of higher quality in the future, but it's on here that they really
burst out with an innovative, totally groundbreaking set of numbers. I'm
perfectly aware that most of them are built on the same musical principle
- that is, combining classical elements, primarily Bach, with slow, moody
Ray Charles-ish soul and Brooker's high, unrestrained vocals; but that
doesn't make the music less fascinating, because they didn't forget to
provide most of their material with clever, catchy hooks. Not to mention
the lyrics - some of the best rock poetry on here, no doubt.
You wanna some proof? Okay, here we go. 'Conquistador' might be the second
best song on here, based on Reid's brilliant allegory of the vanity of
victory. And, as much as I'm not a fan of the Brooker tone, I must confess
that he pulls off the song just fine, clearly getting Reid's message. The
best moment, of course, comes in the chorus, with the scary descending
guitar riff over the confused lines 'And though I hoped for something to
find/I could see no maze to unwind'! BOO! Sounds almost like 'Boris The
Spider' to me, only the dark humour vibe is replaced by the really frightening
one. Yet another spooky tune is 'Outside The Gates Of Cerdes' (what's Cerdes,
may I ask, and what's its relations with Hades?) Ever seen a painting of
the Final Judgement by Bosch? That's what the lyrics seem to be all about,
and the keyboards and the dark bass line create a mood that's simply perfect.
Finally, if you're not yet scared out of your pants, you get a gloomy account
of Brooker always running into his own tombstone in 'Something Following
Me'. Need I add that both songs are highlighted by Trower's vicious Hendrix-inspired
solos and Fisher's beautiful organ?
There's also some romantic ballads on here - like the silly 'She Wandered
Through The Garden Fence', or the groovy 'Salad Days (Are Here Again)',
and a couple of songs might seem throwaways, like the repetitive 'Kaleidoscope'
or the short good-time ditty 'Good Captain Clack'. But even then, they're
still listenable, and you won't regret buying the album while listening
to such monsters as their greatest Ray Charles rip-off ('A Christmas Camel',
with maybe the funniest lyrics on the entire album), or the closing instrumental
'Repent Walpurgis' which sounds close to 'Shade Of Pale', yet is different.
IMHO, it's one of the most gorgeous classical-style rock compositions ever,
standing right there, together with Jethro Tull's 'Bouree'. Funny how all
the gorgeous classical-style rock compositions are based on Bach, isn't
it? In fact, if I might allow myself a little digression, it's interesting
that Bach seems to be the primary influence for all 'serious' bands, and
not only art rock ones: even Jack Bruce admitted Bach's influence in his
work. I still have no idea why. Sure, Bach is a great composer, but there
are so many more... why does nobody ever quote Mozart as an influence?
Too lightweight? Too bad, I say!
All right, I was talking about 'Repent Walpurgis'. It's a great instrumental,
with the pounding organ and Trower's guitar building up to shattering climaxes.
Hell, I caught myself on using as many 'greatest', 'shattering' and 'gorgeous'
epithets in this here review as I'd probably never use on a whole page
devoted to lots of other bands. Well, you gotta excuse me: this record
is truly like nothing else (except for later Procol Harum records, of course).
I'd bet its primary uniqueness of course, lies in a definite differentiation
between the piano (courtesy of Brooker) and the organ (courtesy of Fisher).
This results in a very rich layer of keyboard sound which neither Yes nor
ELP, the two greatest keyboard prog rock bands of all time, could afford.
Another distinction is that it manages to sound intelligent and serious
without sounding at all pretentious - courtesy of Keith Reid and the goaty
singing of Mr Brooker. And even if you think that it's pretentious, just
listen to the ridiculous fun on 'Mabel', the track that should really and
truly belong to a drunken cabaret party... nah. It's as great as everything
else on here.
Oh! And don't forget the bonus tracks! The B-side of 'Shade Of Pale' is
actually a jumpy R'n'B number ('Lime Street Blues') that denotes their
Paramounts past. Then there's 'Homburg', their classic second single which
is a carbon, but certainly not a dull, copy of 'Shade Of Pale', except
that the piano is featured more prominently than the organ, giving the
song a complaintive rather than majestic feel. 'Monseigneur Armand' is
a throwaway, but 'Seem To Have The Blues All Of The Time' is top-notch,
built on a grumbling, almost heavy metal riff (I wonder how much innovatory
the song was for its time? There were no Led Zeppelin back then, remember
that!) In all, the record is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful... geez, I'm
gonna go put it on one more time now. Go get it.
Seem to have the blues all the time without your ideas
Your worthy comments:
<Mdh19@aol.com> (21.11.99)
I think 'Whiter Shade of Pale' is the most wonderful song in the world. I absolutely love it.
Nick Einhorn <eeinhorn@home.com> (03.06.2000)
Forget about the single - this is a great album. The best songs are
"Outside The Gates Of Cerdes", "Something Following Me",
and of course "Whiter Shade of Pale". "Cerdes" has
a great riff, some excellent organ work (I've always like Fischer's playing),
and eerie lyrics that sound like a lineup on judgement day. "Something"
is according to Gary Brooker the first song he ever wrote, but you wouldn't
know it; it sounds very sophisticated here. Of course nothing hasn't already
be said about "Whiter Shade", but it is a clever song (based
on Bach's "Air on the G String") with interesting lyrics and
smoothly interplaying keyboards. The absence of guitar is one of the best
things on this track; I find Trower to be the weak link of the band, being
a poor Hendrix rip-off who doesn't really fit in with the two-keyboard
sound. Fischer's one track, "Repent Walpurgis" is also great,
and all of the other songs (except for "Conquistador", which
I HATE) are at worst listenable, and usually quite charming.
Plus, if you get the CD, you get "Homburg" thrown in, which I
think is even better than "Whiter Shade". I mean, listen to the
lyics: "Your multilingual business friend has packed her bags and
fled..."
Year Of Release: 1968
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 11
A little too overblown with too few departures from the first album
to match its pretentiousness.
Best song: SHINE ON BRIGHTLY
Ever so slightly weaker than A Whiter Shade Of Pale, just because
there are almost no serious musical advances here (what the huckle - there
would really be few serious musical advances for the next ten years, let's
admit it frankly; but isn't that the fate of most art-rock bands?), this
is still a solid effort. The main Procol warhorse is still the center of
attention: Reid's Dylanish lyrics set to Brooker's dancing keyboards. There's
a little less Trower on the record, which makes it harder to assimilate:
after all, how can you fare without a cool Hendrix guitarline now and then?
However, if you listen very hard, you'll actually discover Robin on almost
every track: it's just that he's diversified his sound, often using less
distortion and a higher, more squeaky tone; he also gets to demonstrate
some really weird, chaotic lines on 'Skip Softly', the kind of which he
was too shy to include on the previous record. Unsatisfying as it is, it's
still a sign of life - Procol Harum were never a pure keyboards band, at
least, not until Trower's departure.
The album, of course, is built around the epic, 17-minute long, half-classical,
half-rock suite 'In Held Twas In I' (I still can't figure out what the
hell it means - it doesn't have any obvious sense to it, neither is it
a palindrome. Does anybody have any ideas?) The suite itself is revolutionary,
of course: prog rock with its rock symphonies hadn't yet been born at that
moment, and Brooker and company can be really called pioneers in that direction.
They even did this before the Beatles - one year before the second side
of Abbey Road! However, from the musical side 'In Held Twas In I'
can in no way be ranked equal, not to mention surpassing, Abbey Road.
It has its great and groovy moments - the confessional 'In The Autumn Of
My Madness', for one, or the cool guitar line leading into 'Look To Your
Soul'. And the 'Grand Finale' is terrific, although too close to a pale
carbon copy of 'Repent Walpurgis'. Still good. Still gets my mind flowing,
and Trower's guitar is cathartic to the core. But the way the suite starts,
the ridiculous and overbloated spoken 'Glimpses Of Nirvana' with its Buddhist
coan, and the very main body of 'Look To Your Soul' itself are, eek, boring.
I know that's the kind of word I should never pronounce while reviewing
Procol Harum, because once I named one of their songs boring, I'll be sure
to extend the procedure to others and others and others, but I'm finally
beat. Blame it on the seventeen-minute length of the track: this was the
first musical experience of the kind, and they might have thought its flaws
would be less evident in the light of its groundbreakingness. Maybe they
were in 1968, but time lays open all the traps. To put it short, there
are way too few musical ideas for a seventeen-minute running time, and
that's that.
Better seek salvation in the shorter numbers. Me, I'd eagerly seek it most
of them. 'Quite Rightly So' is a definite higlight, with delightful soulful
singing from Gary and a very pathetic organ melody. Or take the title track,
highlighted by that excellent 'screeching' guitar line in the choruses
and 'decadent' singing. Yeah, I know the melody's recycled from 'A Christmas
Camel', but that don't make the song less exciting, at least, not first
time around. Then there's 'Skip Softly (My Moonbeams)', the weird
one of the album - nothing can be more weird than 'Mabel', of course, but
it's still weird. It has a funny, almost ragtime keyboard rhythm, then
it goes off shattered into guitar solos and finally ends with a grotesque
organ quote from some famous classical melody I just can't remember the
name right now.
There's the scary 'Wish Me Well', a group-sung blues number that tries
to emulate 'Outside The Gates Of Cerdes', and there's the clever lyrical
stunt 'Rambling On' where Brooker tells a story about his yearning to fly
like Batman and what came out of it. Beats 'Something Following Me' all
to hell. Yeah, these short numbers might get monotonous, but they're always
entertaining. Except for the dragging 'Magdalene (My Regal Zonophone)'
which is so sleep-inducing that I heartily welcome 'In Held Twas In I'
coming in its fall.
See, I keep comparing this record to its predecessor, because that's the
very natural thing to do: if there's any sort of inspiration here, it's
only provided by A Whiter Shade Of Pale, none of these stupid outside
influences. If you loved their debut album to death, you'll get as much
out of Shine On Brightly. If you're like me, however, you'll be
left a little disappointed. Not enough disappointed, though, to rate the
album more than two points less of perfection. Yes. The bonus tracks aren't
as interesting as the ones to Shade Of Pale, by the way. Okay, there's
a cute little poetical rant called 'In The Wee Small Hours Of Sixpence'
which I kinda like. But the Italian version of 'Shine On Brightly' ('Il
Tuo Diamante') is ridiculous - Brooker sings like a naughty schoolboy who's
been always missing his Italian lessons. And the stereo version of 'Homburg'
adds little to the excellent mono version on the previous album. Why are
better albums always accompanied by better bonus tracks?
Wish me well and mail your ideas
Your worthy comments:
Ken <Nkkimber@aol.com> (21.12.99)
The title of 'In Held 'Twas In I' is taken from the first words of each of its parts (In the darkness of the night... Held close by that which some despise... etc.)
<Joachim.Pente@t-online.de> (10.10.2000)
The "grotesque organ quote from some famous classical melody...( you)... just can't remember the name right now" at the end of "Skip Softly" is from your famous (Georgia-born Soviet-Russian) compatriot A´ram Khachatourian´s "Sabre Dance" from his ballet "Gayane", written in 1942.
Nick Einhorn <eeinhorn@home.com> (18.12.2000)
I might well be the only person who likes this more than AWSOP, but I don't really care. I think Shine On shows them refining their sound and being a lot more mature. The debut was kind of just a bunch of decent pop songs with only a couple of truly great tracks. Shine On, on the other hand, is much more consistent and cohesive. Fischer is a lot more prominent, which is a good thing, and Trower, despite his skill, never really fit with the sound of the band; him being toned down is a good thing, in my opinion. The only mishit here is "In Held 'Twas In I", and it's not all bad. The instrumental sections are good, and some of the softer sung sections are great. It should have been cut down to about half the length, but it's still worth hearing, as opposed to, say, "Mabel" or "Kaleidoscope". I'd say this record is the best Procol ever came out with, with AWSOP being second.
Year Of Release: 1969
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 12
More personal songs and more carefully crafted music. A great showcase
for the guitar, too.
Best song: A SALTY DOG
Probably their second best album, this one marks the transition into
the stable, steady and flourishing period of 1969-71 - the brief shining
moment when Procol Harum was, arguably, the world's best art rock
band. Of course, the individual albums and songs varied in quality, but
the richness of sound generally just couldn't be topped, and, moreover,
they were probably the only band that managed not to sound pretentious
by tackling material which in any other hands would only cause brows to
be raised and shoulders to be shrugged. Shine On Brightly, even
with all of its glorious highlights, was somewhat patchy and insecure -
it was like they were painfully trying to find the perfect balance between
all band members, and ended up almost disqualifying Trower. A Salty
Dog finds the band in perfect state: the songs are still mostly based
on Brooker/Fisher's piano/organ interplay, but Trower's guitar re-instates
itself as a third equal and, in fact, quite a lot of songs on here are
only made significant by Trower's contributions (most notably 'The Milk
Of Human Kindness' and 'All This More').
Here they abandon the pomposity of 'In Held Twas In I' and mostly stick
to relatively short, tight, compact songs, few of which have as much immediate
impact as their debut album (that is, if you heard that one first), but
most of which turn out to be little musical chef-d'aeuvres in the end.
Keith Reid is also at the peak of his lyricist talents, turning in one
blistering set of imagery after another and interchanging them with emotional
confessions. The title track is a genuine Procol classic - when the orchestra
comes in, it's like I'm right there in the middle of the sea together with
the salty dog, in the 'parts unknown to men/Where ships come home to die'.
It sounds very close to 'A Whiter Shade Of Pale' and yet it ain't no rip-off,
'cause the mood it sets on you is totally different. Anyway, stop crabbing
and realize that Procol Harum is probably the only art-rock band in the
world that could make real good use of strings when it came to orchestration.
Then there's the menacing, almost burning 'The Milk Of Human Kindness',
highlighted by fantastic Brooker/Trower interplay; that fuzzy guitar riff
simply shakes my bowels and the 'quiet desperation' of the song is unsurpassed.
'Too Much Between Us' is another nice ballad built on acoustic guitar,
although I admit it might sound boring to you if you're not in the mood;
me, I find the melody charming in its almost childish naivety, and Brooker's
plaintive, sentimental rerrain is so sensitive and movving that it almost
makes one cry. Trower shines on the rockers 'The Devil Came From Kansas'
(although this is probably one of the weakest tunes on here, because the
melody is totally primitive and they don't compensate it with their pedestrian
singing either) and 'All This And More' (much, much better, the second
best guitar line on the album is here - Trower's climactic flourishes after
each verse are exceptional, almost trumpet-imitating).
The album's also much more democratic than before: not only are Trower
and Fisher allowed to offer their own contributions (most of the songs
on the previous two albums are credited to Brooker/Reid), they're even
allowed to sing them - and they got better voices than Gary, even though
all the diehard fans might disagree. Well, screw the diehard fans, I say.
Have you heard 'Crucifiction Lane'? It's built on the same generic melody
that's featured on 'House Of The Rising Sun' and that the Stones would
simply steal for 'I Got The Blues' two years later (which is, strange enough,
a worse song than this), but somehow they manage to make the best out of
it, and Robin offers a blistering solo, too. Fisher's contributions aren't
bad, either: 'Boredom' is folkish fun and 'Wreck Of The Hesperus' is the
album's second orchestrated epic (besides the title track). It was like
Matthew was holding a competition with Brooker, but I'm not sure who won.
Gary probably won in the 'commercial' sense, since it's 'A Salty Dog' that
became a fan favourite, but 'Wreck Of The Hesperus' is almost just as good.
Funny thing: George Harrison, a close friend of Brooker, also wrote a song
called 'Wreck Of The Hesperus' for his 1987 Cloud 9 album. But that's
a different matter. Fisher also gets the honour of closing the album with
the contemplative 'Pilgrim's Progress', a relative throwaway but a pleasant
tune by itself.
The only misfire is Trower's two-minute 'Juicy John Pink', a raw recording
of a heavy blues tune: it doesn't sound at all bad, but it just doesn't
fit in with the band's sound. I don't mind diversity, but this is a peculiar
oddity rather than an attempt to diversify the style. Get that on a B-side
and gimme something like 'Boredom' instead. But, anyway, this is as cleverly
crafted a collection of songs as you're ever going to get. Yes, the sound
is a wee bit more uniform than before, but you have to get over that. After
all, this is what they call symph rock, isn't it? Classical music transformed
into rock. Few bands managed the transgression; get this record and learn
all the benefits of great art rock.
But I warn you - you'll have to relax and get into it. This ain't the kind
of music that makes you clench your fist or tap your feet. No music-hall
sendups here, either: everything is getting very serious. That's why I
can't quite award this a 10: too much mid-tempo and too much sameyness.
I really can't blame the melodies, but I think that the album's structure
and composition leave something to be desired. Although I certainly can
see as to why this is universally acclaimed as the band's finest moment,
and is generally the diehards' best bet for a true chef-d'oeuvre.
Boredom... Where are your ideas?
Your worthy comments:
Steve Maffei <jemster@ix.netcom.com> (29.10.99)
Maybe so, but after I've gotten into it it still doesn't average that
perfect ten I wanted. At the time it was the only Procol album available
in the U.S. before the reissues came out, so I simply ordered it off of
Amazon.com. Perhaps A Whiter Shade of Pale would have been a better
start, because after listening to the masterful A&M Greatest Hits
collection, I found this album had too much "throwaway" material
on it. The title track is an obvious classic, "Milk of Human Kindness"
is quite fun and powerful, "So Much Between Us" is another great
tune, and "The Devil Came From Kansas" is one of the best and
silliest numbers on the whole thing.
Then the songs start to drift. "Boredom" may be a classic, but
it don't mean a thing, which makes it less great. I'm not sure I like that
"rich and fruity" side of Procol Harum. "Juicy John Pink"
was an obvious outcast, but the sudden style change made me wake up from
the "Boredom" trans. And of course, after that there are some
songs I don't recall. Oh, yes, one was the undeniably glorious "Wreck
of the Hesperus", and I can remember another great ballad, probably
"All This and More", which was pretty great. But that "Boredom"
thing still had a kind of strange effect on me, and now I can't remeber
a word of "Crucifiction Lane". The final track, "Pilgrim's
Progress", is good, but both it and "Boredom" sound like
early Traffic without Brooker's powerful, deep voice.
So the album kinda gets lost in a bunch of weak songs, but all in all,
it's all the same. It still averages a 9 for me, and the title track was
the one song that got me interested in Procol Harum. Great, but was the
share of disappointing songs present because of the beginning of a descent
into their own boredom? Nah...listening to Broken Barricades shows
that they still had some juice after this. Dig that Greatest Hits!
Year Of Release: 1970
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 11
Aggressive and pessimistic, that's what this one is. And it's somewhat
a departure from the earlier sound, which some might welcome.
Best song: WHISKY TRAIN
Oh dear, Procol Harum can rock. We'd always suspected that, since
Trower's primary idol was Hendrix, after all. However, the basic sound
of Procol - the organ/piano interplay - always prevented them from doing
exactly that; whatever they forked out, it all ended up sounding like a
Bach rip-off. Now that Matthew Fisher has left the band, this interplay
was all but gone. His replacement, Chris Copping, isn't really much of
a keyboard player - after all, how can one guy handle both bass and keyboards,
even in the studio (not to mention live)? I know only Ray Manzarek, and
his handling of both duties always caused the Doors a lot of criticism.
So this album is much more guitar-based than the previous three: Trower
suddenly rises up to the stage and convinces us all that he's not really
mellow (as if his guitarwork on 'Repent Walpurgis' left any doubt). The
first song on the album, 'Whisky Train', breaks in with such a rip-roarin',
intoxicating melody that you could hardly believe it was Procol in the
first place: a heavy, distorted riff, no pianos, straightforward lyrics
about an old boozer who decided to quit drinking, and only Brooker's usual
voice somehow links the song to the traditional Procol style. Nevertheless,
the song is great; it's one of the few compositions in the entire catalogue
that really sets your heart afire and gets your feet tapping. The guitar
is awesome.
The rest of the album is somehow more traditional, although the guitar
is much more prominent everywhere. Also, Keith Reid must have been having
a really bad time, 'cause most of the lyrics deal with death and loss of
hope and torture and abuse and other unattractive subjects (the word 'death'
gets repeated in almost every song, in fact. And the titles? 'The Dead
Man's Dream', 'About To Die'! They should have called the album 'Death',
but they were probably afraid nobody would buy it under such a straightforward
name). That's not to say the lyrics are bad (except for 'Whaling Stories',
an unsuccessful venture into the world of prog rock): they just get so
paranoid after a while that the whole album leaves a heavy feeling. In
that respect, 'Whisky Train' might seem deceptive, because even if it's
a hard rock song by definition, it's not a pessimistic song.
It's right at the end of it that the drama begins, with Brooker singing
about a horrible dream of his - 'Dead Man's Dream' has a melody that sounds
like a whining beaten dog, a plain old-fashioned dirge with funeral organ
around and Brooker basically sounding like he's totally at the end of the
line. The lyrics sound like they're taken from an old goth tale ("And
the corpses were rotten, yet each one was living/Their eyes were alive
with maggots crawling" - yuck!). Thank God musical videos weren't
all that popular in 1970, or we would have gotten something real
nasty from these guys.
After that, for a short period of time, Brooker turns to threats with the
almost lyrically punkish 'Still There'll Be More' with lyrics like 'I'll
blacken your Christmas and piss on your door, you'll be crying for mercy
but still there'll be more'; then he passes on to cynical revelations ('Nothing
That I Didn't Know', with multiple references to dead young girls), murky,
chillin' prophecies ('About To Die', perhaps the most gruesome number on
the album, with a dirty guitar/organ interplay and Gary impersonating a
Biblical hero, no less) and broken expectations (the slightly less interesting
musically 'Barnyard Story').
It all comes to a culmination in 'Piggy Pig Pig': the song itself isn't
very impressive, with a nice but not great melody, but the climax (the
band furiously shouting 'PIGGY - PIG -PIG' over multiple gruntings and
swooshing noises) is frightening, sounding like a death sentence to the
'piggified' society. The song ranks right there, on the same level with
Harrison's 'Piggies' and Waters' 'Pigs (Three Different Ones)', in its
brilliant use of the swine allegory, although it's definitely a wee bit
more complicated in the current situation than in the two other ones.
For many fans the album's masterpiece is the seven minute long 'Whaling
Stories', but I can't really find any justification to that fact, except
for the very reason that it's the longest song on the album and thus pretends
to be its magnum opus. It has its moments, but for the most part
it's slow, dreamy, and doesn't really fit in with the other songs on here
- neither musically nor lyrically. It just seems like a retread of 'A Salty
Dog' to me, both in the lyrical department, with multiple marine allegories,
and in the 'grand slow epic' sense, but without the swooping string climaxes
and a weaker melody. I do admit that the grandiose mid-section is awesome
enough in the sonic department so as to compensate for lack of strings.
Still, I far prefer the album closer 'Your Own Choice' - it's faster, it
makes more sense, it's hummable, and it's unpretentious - if you don't
see any pretensions in lyrics condemning the human race, of course.
On the whole, though, the album's just as enjoyable as the first three.
And, anyway, expression of world sorrow had always characterized Procol
Harum music - it's just that they get a little over the top on here. On
the other hand, it is all compensated by Trower's filling up the space
of Fisher, so if you want your rock music to rock, grab this one. Better
still, try to find a compilation that has 'Whisky Train' on it. I'm sure
you'll succeed. And dig that album cover. If you scan it closely, you'll
notice it's structured in the form of a mock-board game, with one Procoler
(Trower, I suppose) chasing after another (Brooker, I presume) and shouting
'Come back, you scamp!' Hilarious.
Your own choice should be to mail your ideas
Your worthy comments:
Kenneth Willis <kenneth.e.willis@bt.com> (17.02.2000)
You wrote: "Now that Matthew Fisher has left the
band, this interplay was all but gone. His replacement, Chris Copping,
isn't really much of a keyboard player - after all, how can one guy handle
both bass and keyboards, even in the studio (not to mention live)?"
Despite what I wrote in an earlier e-mail (!), I'm not sure I agree here.
I've always enjoyed the contrast between the piano and the organ on Home
and it wasn't until recently that the penny finally dropped that it ISN'T
Matthew Fisher on the organ. I had always assumed that he played on some
of the tracks (this despite the fact that I take some pride in always reading
the sleeve-notes!). Further, I disagree with your estimation of Mr Copping's
keyboard skills. He, quite naturally, isn't Matthew Fisher but his work
on Home (to name but one album) is so skillful and varied as to
fool at least an old fool like me, and the overall effect is to create
that typical Procol sound, which is far more important. Take another listen
to "Dead Man's Dream". This, despite the fact that it is so morbid,
is one of my favourite Procol tracks, as it gives me that same "tingle-factor"
as "Repent Walpurgis" or "Whaling Stories", and the
organ work is excellent: sometimes swooping chords, sometimes minimalist
single notes, but always just right for the song. Incidentally, I loved
your description of the melody as sounding like "a whining beaten
dog". Good stuff!
Best wishes , with apologies for over-using the word "despite"!
<Nkkimber@aol.com> (17.05.2000)
I'm frankly baffled by your comments about 'Whaling Stories'. The version on the Live at the BBC album, with its lovely organ intro, has confirmed in my mind that it is possibly the quintessential Procol track. The music and lyrics complement each other perfectly; when Gary sings the 'Six bells struck...' verse, it sounds full of portent and foreboding, but with 'Daybreak washed with sands of gladness' it just sounds like a new dawn, with tentative hope. And the last line, 'Those at peace...' well, it gets me every time. Perhaps it has been elevated to an object of reverence for Procol fans (even the fan club is named after it), but this is justified by the grandeur and lyricism of the track.
Year Of Release: 1971
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 12
Procol Harum metamorphose into a hard rock band. For a short while.
But a worth while.
Best song: SIMPLE SISTER
Youpee, another great Procol Harum record. Lord save me but I can't
help liking these guys. There's almost nothing particularly impressive
about this particular one, in fact it doesn't contain even a single all-time
classic like 'A Whiter Shade Of Pale' or 'A Salty Dog' or even 'Whaling
Stories'. And yet, it's just so cleverly constructed, so brilliantly arranged
and performed, and manages to be artsy and memorable at the same time.
The closest thing to a 'prog epic' on here is 'Song For A Dreamer', and
even this one is shorter than six minutes. And it's good. The main thing
about the album, though, is an almost complete, if unexpected, dominance
of Trower and his guitar: quite a few of the Brooker-written and sung tunes
are all based on heavy riffs, and he contributes three compositions himself.
God only knows what Robin could have transformed the band into... if he
hadn't unexpectedly left it right after the album's release. One of the
most unexpected decisions in rock history (maybe only compared with Gabriel's
leaving Genesis after the triumph of The Lamb): the man had just
solidified his presence in the band, turning them into a mighty 'hard-art'
ensemble and then this! My hypothesis is that the others have rebelled
against him, but that's behind the curtains, really, and it shouldn't interest
you unless you're one of these sharks that keeps distributing photos of
Keith Richards naked.
Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. The album's surprisingly short, with only
eight songs on it, and they're more or less evenly split between 'kick
ass' rockers and more traditional Brooker keyboard incantations. The rockin'
part is all good, although I must say that a fan of 'classical' Procol
Harum might be severely disappointed first time around. Trower is a fine
guitarist, with an almost perfect brand of riffage and enough talent to
produce a tasty solo; and we all know about Keith Reid's magnificent poetic
lyrics and Brooker's piano arrangements. However, when taken together,
these things don't seem to really fit in, not at once, at least. Quite
a few times I caught myself on the thought that they remind me of some
output from certain patchy New Wave bands that wanted to rock out and sound
artistic at the same time and ended up sounding like lame derivative rockers
with stupid pretensions. Here, it's vice versa: can you really imagine
Gary Brooker as a rocker? Well, you'll just have to, and once you get over
yourself, you'll get quite a lot of pleasure from such weird tunes as the
punchy 'Memorial Drive', or what is probably the best (and the best known)
song on the record: Brooker's 'Simple Sister', built on a riff that bears
a suspicious resemblance to Townshend's 'We're Not Gonna Take It', but
it's just similar and it isn't the same one, so I pass on that comment.
The riff is good, as you might conclude, and the lengthy instrumental mid-section
can get a little boring, but only a little - and only if you're not in
the mood for a good solo. And I don't know whether it's my jerky tastes
or I'm really a genius for liking this song, but I get a hell of a lot
of pleasure from the closing 'Poor Mohammed', sung by Trower. The lyrics
might be dumb (condemnation of discrimination of Arabian population immigration?),
but the melody rocks! It rocks! Not as hard as 'Whisky Train', but it rocks!
Yeah, one might say that this kind of rockers makes the band lose their
face and turn into an average, half-inspired hard rock band, but what the
hell, we all know this is just a groovy facet of the band, and they do
it good, and those who are not entirely satisfied with any record that's
full to the brink with 'artsy' symphonic sound can also enjoy this particular
album.
In fact, the 'traditional' songs are worse than usual this time around,
at least a couple of them. The title track is all built on a synth loop,
and Procol Harum were never a synth band like ELP or Yes - they
didn't even know particularly well what to do with them. So it ends up
kinda suckin'. A little. 'Luskus Delph' doesn't thrill me too much, either,
though it's good. On the other hand, we have the lengthy, moody guitar/keyboards
interplay on the psychedelic 'Song For A Dreamer' which, you might not
believe me, but it's so - it really sounds just as if it's been taken directly
from Dark Side Of The Moon. It's creepy, dreamy, far out and a little
philosophical (and what about the line 'I'll meet you on the other side
of the moon'? Now that's ripping off, I tell you, Roger!). 'Playmate Of
The Mouth' is no slouch either, with its clever use of brass and tremedous
rhythm. Yes, they did it, they don't really sound boring - not even on
their fifth album. Jeez, they already made five albums that mostly sound
the same and none of them are still boring. Isn't this a proof they're
a great band?
The only major weirdness that lies within the album are the lyrics: if
Home's main issue was death and mutilation, on Broken Barricades
Reid turned to portraying confusion, disorder, inner and outer chaos and
violence. Song after song you get pictures of ill-treated people ('Simple
Sister'), lost illusions (title track), self deprecation ('Luskus Delph')
and just absolute ruin and mess ('Playmate Of The Mouth'). No wonder that
Trower seems somewhat alien with his hard rock rhythms - they just don't
fit the lyrics nohow. You have to appreciate the arrangements and the lyrics
separately from each other, that's the only way. Otherwise, a fine record,
and for huge fans of Trower, the band's last one - like I said, he left
soon after its release. Replaced by Dave Ball.
Simple sister, complex brother, please mail your ideas
Your worthy comments:
Steve Maffei <jemster@ix.netcom.com> (07.11.99)
Why haven't you mentioned the excellent "Power Faliure"? It may have a horridly unneeded percussion solo in the middle, but it's still melodic and powerful. It is the best song on the record, not 'Simple Sister'.
Ken <Nkkimber@aol.com> (21.12.99)
I always felt a tension between the Brooker/Reid and Trower/Reid compositions: one that was ultimately only resolved by Trower's departure. Whilst Trower's absence was definitely noted, the next collection (Grand Hotel) seemed much more consistent. A band in transition then, but some great songs. I think 'Luskus Delph' is a classic. Has it ever been available on CD? By the way, I seem to remember that Dark Side of the Moon was released the following year.
Year Of Release: 1972
Record rating = 7
Overall rating = 10
Not a perfect song selection, but that's the only complaint that
might be.
Best song: CONQUISTADOR
This project was actually carried out in a hurry, and the rehearsal
sessions and everything were particularly rushed - legend has it that Brooker
actually wrote most of the orchestral arrangements on board the plane to
Canada. At the very beginning, right before the band & orchestra leap
into 'Conquistador', Gary says 'Ready? Oh... after you', and the audience
bursts into laughter - apparently since the poor band leader had forgotten
whether it'd be the band or the ochestra to play the lead-in segment. (Of
course, that's a purely subjective opinion: maybe they were laughing at
something else. Maybe Gary dropped his pants).
Anyway, if there ever was a band that suited an orchestra, it'd be Procol
Harum. This is an undeniable fact, but, paradoxally, it's responsible for
both the good and the bad effect produced by this record. The good side,
of course, is that the band and the orchestra mesh in perfectly, and neither
lovers of classical music nor lovers of pure rock music should be put off
by this, of course, if they're intelligent enough. The orchestration is
always smart, unlike, say, the arrangements on the Moodies' Days Of
Future Passed, and the songs almost invite, almost require orchestration,
as if Brooker was the illegitimate lost and found son of J. S. Bach (never
mind the age, though). But this is also the bad side: you don't really
get the feeling that the songs are at all different from the original studio
releases. I mean, they are different - the string intros, the choirs,
etc., etc., but it's not the kind of crucial difference that makes some
live albums acquire a unique mood that was not previously captured in the
studio. And, since the band don't change the arrangements as well, and
the song structures are all the same, this just isn't a necessary must-buy
for anybody. Even if it is a milestone - after all, this was the
first activity of the type 'the so-and-so symphonic orchestra plays the
music of...'.
Also, I'm not totally satisfied with the song selection. 'Conquistador'
is totally great, of course, and out of all the five selections on here,
it's probably the most enhanced by the orchestration: the 'sturm-und-drang'
goes off splendidly. No wonder this was their biggest hit single since
'A Whiter Shade Of Pale'. It also adds a brilliant guitar solo by Dave
Ball that was so badly missing in the original, and the strings add an
additional injunction of atmosphere and creepiness to the song. And 'Whaling
Stories', which was the dullest song on Home, is ten times superior
to the original version as the orchestra adds that necessary grandeur and
swooping stormy majesty to the climactic mid-section that was also badly
missing in the original. You only need to rev up your amps and you'll feel
yourself lost in a small whale-hunting barque atop a raging sea...
But the rest of the material is kinda iffy. 'A Salty Dog' is an absolute
Procol classic, of course, but including it in the program is a bit of
a cheat - it featured an orchestra in the original studio version, so,
while for some such an inclusion might seem an obvious choice, others (me
included) would view it as a deliberate simplification of the whole affair.
Was Gary too lazy to write more orchestral arrangements? Well, if he did
write them on board the plane, he probably was... And I'm sure the quadrophonic
effects tapes with seagulls crying sounded great for the audience, but
it's kinda unimportant for the ensuing record. 'All This And More' is quite
a good song, but not too suited for an orchestra as it's primarily guitar
based, and Dave Ball's guitar tone only gets diffused in the humdrum. (By
the way, this is Dave Ball's only record with the band, in case you're
interested). Why not 'Wreck Of The Hesperus' instead? Or, what the hell,
why not 'Whiskey Train'? Come on now - wouldn't an orchestrated version
of 'Whiskey Train' sound cool? Now that would be groundbreaking.
Finally, the entire second side is donated to 'In Held Twas In I'. And
again, not only they could have included more songs instead of just
one lengthy suite, but it's also not the best example of Procol's style.
You don't need an orchestra to play the opening 'Glimpses Of Nirvana',
for instance, or to substitute the ferocious guitar riff in the middle,
the one that opens the 'Look To Your Soul' part. I mean, you don't really
pay attention to the orchestral work while listening to the song. And since
some of its parts are boring, you get entirely distracted.
So you see, I have my complaints about this 'classic'. Still, these are
just minor quibbles, because the record does capture the essence of Procol
Harum brilliantly. None of the songs are bad, and about fifty percent of
the stuff on here is great beyond all doubt. Recommended only for
completists - except for 'Whaling Stories', you'd better be off with the
studio originals, but if you see it cheap (which is doubtful since the
greedy Americans still haven't issued most of the Procol stuff on CD),
take a swift stroke and grab it tight. Don't forget Gary's funny liner
notes, too - they have included a brief snippet of his feelings written
down right before the concert, and they're all written in the style of
a testament written before a duel or, at least, in the 'message in a bottle'
style. Heh heh. And what a cool album cover! I mean, you just have to see
the album cover!
All this and more! Mail
your ideas!
GRAND
HOTEL 
Year Of Release: 1973
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 12
Some of the most luxuriant sounding symph rock tunes are captured
on this one.
Best song: FIRES (THAT BURN BRIGHTLY)
You know, I'm slowly becoming convinced that Gary Brooker is one of
the greatest songwriters in the whole art rock genre, even if I still don't
really appreciate his voice. This is their sixth studio album in a row
of constant tens, nines and eights. I remember when I first heard it I
didn't like it all - pompous, keyboard-drenched symphonic garbage, I thought,
but I've been a fool. The album rules mercilessly - I just listened to
it four times in a row and couldn't get enough of it. Trower's departure
made a significant impact on the sound, and yet they didn't exactly return
to base. New guitarist Mick Grabham is competent but not too prominent
on the album; more significant is Chris Copping's relegation to organ with
the addition of a new bass player. This means that keyboards again fully
dominate the band, and the sound is deep and full once again, based on
piano/organ interplay. But this hardly sounds like Salty Dog or
Shine On Brightly. In fact, if I might permit myself the audacity
of inventing the term 'barocco rock' (of course, if it hasn't been invented
already - I don't want to steal anybody's terminology), this is one of
the few, if not the only, rock album in the world that would share the
epithet. Everything about it, from the title to the album cover to the
lush strings/choirs/piano arrangements, suggests that this is a fine example
of barocco art. And I like barocco art.
The ultra-pompous title track says it all, in fact: a beautiful, romantic
keyboard intro, grandiose lyrics ('tonight we sleep on silken sheets' and
suchlike), orchestrated arrangements and quotations from waltzes and 'Otchi
chyornije' (one of the few well-known Russian gypsy songs, if you're not
familiar). The quotations might seem somewhat banal and out of place, but
the melody itself, along the lines of 'A Salty Dog' but still somewhat
different, is gorgeous - nobody could pull off such pomp and totally get
away with it like good old Procol. Everybody knows how hard it is to write
a bombastic, orchestrated ode and make it impressive as well. But these
guys were really really talented, and Brooker has an amazing talent of
dealing with classical music without any special education.
Another fascinating example of baroque classicism on the album is the flabbergastingly
great 'Fires (Which Burn Brightly)', based on the by now traditionally
gloomy Reid lyrics and a heavenly piano phrase. Of course it has nothing
to do with rock music, but why should it? We all know rock music as such
does not exist, don't we? Rock songs probably do, but rock albums don't.
And this isn't a rock song, it's a beautiful, sad lament highlighted by
some generic, but pleasant female background singing. B. J. Wilson also
swings out on this one, demonstrating his ample drumming talents, but it's
the keyboard line that really makes the song, as well as the swirling organ
in the more "energetic" solo passage..
The rest of the album seems to almost be built around these two principal
pillars: none of the other tracks are as grandiose, but most of them are
still extremely well written, not always concentrating on the same grandiose
style to allow some breathing space, but practically always containing
some tasty hooks and nice moods. There's only one obviously bad tune on
the album, in fact - the dorky anti-television pamphlet 'TV Caesar'; its
ugliness doesn't have as much to do with the straightforward silly lyrics
('TV Caesar mighty mouse/Shares a bed in every house') as with the painfully
simple and nursery-style melody. It might have been less painful if the
horrible refrain weren't repeated for at least a million times throughout
the six-minute long song. I hate the song utterly and deprive the album
of the ten for exactly that reason. It's one of the few examples where
Brooker's combination of 'high art' with 'memorable hooks' really does
the man a disfavour.
But apart from that problem, the album's reputation is immaculate. There
are amusing, lazy shuffles with puzzling pseudo-autobiographical stories
('A Rum Tale' - with hilarious lyrics like 'I'm buying an island, somewhere
in the sun/I'll hide from the natives, live only on rum'), some of them
based on prominent sad and majestic piano ('For Liquorice John', a song
that might seem repetitive to some but is completely redeemed by the subtle
melancholic atmosphere so niftily created by these minimalistic piano lines).
And if you want to have some reminiscence of why Procol Harum were actually
called a 'rock band' with all that endless classical piano pop, they include
a couple of convincing, er, symph rockers ('Toujours L'Amour' and 'Bringing
Home The Bacon', with the best guitar on the album), that chug along with
enough force and power to convince even the most venomous sceptics.
And finally, just so as for you to have some lightweight relief for your
soul, there are two obscene ditties on the album, one about veneral diseases
('A Souvenir Of London'), one about drug smuggling ('Roberts Box'); the
first one was even banned on the radio, although it ain't that easy to
discover what 'em lyrics are about. 'Got a souvenir in London, gotta hide
it from my mom'. That dirty old Keith! The songs are nice.
Thus, please don't carry on the mistake that some critics and reviewers
have made - namely, that Procol lost it entirely with the departure of
Trower. It was certainly a big loss for the band (even if some of the fans
only thought they'd gained from it, disliking Robin for his pushing the
band back to the 'roots' on the previous albums), but Trower's guitar never
really lied at the very heart of Procol's sound, rather serving as a powerful
and very useful embellishment. And Trower didn't carry away even a single
bit of the band's songwriting talents, nor did his departure influence
the usual wittiness of Keith Reid's lyrics. Anyway, chronologically speaking,
this might just as well be the last great Procol Harum album. Dang it,
how many great albums might one band have? They'll soon beat out the Stones
in the average rating if I keep giving them high marks such as these!
Bringing home the bacon, don't forget to mail your ideas as well
Your worthy comments:
Kenneth Willis <kenneth.e.willis@bt.com> (17.02.2000)
I bought this album shortly after Christmas (after all the millenium
hype had died down, actually, but that's beside the point). I deliberately
listened to it a few times first, before visiting this site and reading
your comments, and my reactions, it turned out, were similar.
After the first hearing, I was disappointed to discover that I now owned
something by Procol Harum which I didn't like at all and considered to
be a waste of my hard-earned.
On the second listening, I felt the same, only more so. In particular,
I did NOT like "TV Caesar". Up until now, Procol didn't have
any bad tracks; only "good", "very good", or "not
so good". However, I now had a PH track which I positively disliked:
the words were silly, the chorus was worse and, worst of all, it was repeated
ad nauseum.
After ignoring the album for a while, I played it once more, and now I
wasn't so sure. "A Rum Tale" I already loved, having heard it
previously on a compilation, but slowly the other tracks grew on me too.
To cut a long story short, what I thought was a bad album, with Procol
trying too hard and failing, ultimately became another favourite. Yes,
"TV Caesar" can be accused of being dorky but, do you know what?
If you ignore the lyrics (something one should never have to do with Keith
Reid's work), the music is excellent. It's a really good tune when listened
to in its own right.
I'm sorry you aren't quite able to appreciate the qualities of Gary Brooker's
smoky voice but at least it hasn't stopped you enjoying Procol Harum. "Barocco-rock"
is an excellent description: it about sums up all the reasons why I like
Procol so much! Keep up the good work.
Ben Greenstein <bgreenstein@nctimes.net> (02.06.2000)
I also have this band's "greatest hits," and to be honest, I'm kinda dissapointed with them. I really like the title track to this album, and the other songs are pleasant, but nothing that I should have spent ten bucks on. They do the "grand" thing pretty well (not as good as Queen), but they also seem to think that using the piano as the main instrument is enough to make the music "sophisticated." Too much of this stuff is repetetive and uncatchy. Like the title track and "Fires," though. A six.
Year Of Release: 1974
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 12
This is more pop sounding with a couple rockers thrown in, but this
only adds to the diversity. Magic!
Best song: at least four or five candidates here, can't really decide...
Gngngngn. Grand Hotel might just as well have been the last great
Procol Harum album... but it isn't. Initially I thought giving it a 7 -
as far as I remembered, it was a slight letdown after Hotel. But
then I relistened to it and thought, 'eh, it's better than I thought. Maybe
I'd give it an 8.' I relistened to it once more and thought, 'wow, it's
exciting! A certain 8, maybe even 9-worthy! Let's have one more!'
I had one more and then rushed over to my PC, because one more listen and
I'd have maybe given it a 10. A jibber-jabberingly, flabbergastingly great
album is this one.
The funny thing is that this doesn't sound like GH at all, if you
exclude the usual Procol trademarks, of course (aka Brooker's voice and
keyboards). That one was classical, pompous, pretentious and overbearing,
but all deservedly so; this one is mostly quiet, simple and poppy - in
fact, it probably has the maximum amount of 'pure pop' songs as compared
to any previous album. Those who like their Harum majestic will be disappointed
except for a couple of tunes. But those who like their Harum clowning around
and putting hooks into songs will be triumphant. And I will look down on
both sides with overall satisfaction, as I like both sides of Procol Harum.
Now there's just a little selfcomplacency for you. Anyway, this is my site
and I write what I want.
There are three types of songs on the album: 'traditional' classically-influenced
odes, more mainstream pop songs and even some goofy rockers. All good.
The classically-influenced odes include 'The Idol', a touching contemplation
on fake sides of religion, with the magnificent refrain going just like
'oh the idol... oh the idol' (although I confess I always heard 'holy idol');
plus, Mick Grabham adds a terrific guitar solo that makes the song's drawn-out
ending fully endurable and to a certain extent - cathartic. Keep in mind,
also, that Birds is a far more guitar-heavy album than its predecessor,
and thus might seem less boring to those who get pretty sick of keyboards
early on. Even better is 'As Strong As Samson' that's probably the most
cathartic track on the album - the lengthy coda is so beautiful it even
reminds us of the 'early days'. Together with 'Fires (That Burn Brightly)',
these are the two 'late' Procol Harum songs that clearly demonstrate the
band could reach the same majestic heights as in the days of Fisher and
Trower. And 'New Lamps For Old' is slightly weaker, but it ain't bad: it's
just that the melody is not as clearly defined and the lyrics aren't as
colourful.
The majority of the songs here, however, can be better classified as 'classicized
keyboard pop'. I doubt that you'll be able to restrain your foot from tapping
while listening to the rhythmic 'Beyond The Pale' (its melody, when sped
up, has become the basis of many a stupid dance number, but here it sounds
just fine). Another wonderful number is 'Fresh Fruit', an ode to that glorious
product of nature (with terrific humorous lyrics by Reid), punctuated by
whistling and cute piano playing. And even the lesser efforts are all pleasant
and memorable ('Nothing But The Truth', with its famous 'Is it on, Tommy?'
lead-in segment, has a well-constructed melody, and 'Butterfly Boys' is
at least danceable). The only minor misfire is 'The Thin End Of The Wedge',
a half-experimental piece with Brooker assuming a particularly nasty tone
as he recites a set of disconnected lines over some primitive musical backing.
The effort here might have been to create a self-made parody on 'Come Together',
but it fails.
Of course, there are a couple of signs of decline here: the accented simplicity
of some of the material shows that Brooker and company were a little hard
up on ideas by the time. Such a smartass guy like Gary wouldn't want to
let it out, of course, and most of the songs are masked carefully with
brilliant arrangements and careful production. The reason why I still rate
this album so highly is because it's extremely consistent. Most Procol
Harum albums, even the best ones, usually have their two or three filler
numbers - failed ideas or boring realization. Exotic Birds And Fruit,
while not having even a single song of the caliber of 'Grand Hotel' or
'A Salty Dog', still grabs you in the beginning and holds you until the
very end. And being hard up on new ideas didn't mean they had to let go
of the old ones, after all - they unearthed one of the oldies ('Monsieur
R. Monde', nowadays also released in its early version as a bonus track
on A Whiter Shade Of Pale), turning it into a terrific rock'n'roll
performance along with the other rocker on the album, the closing 'Drunk
Again' (note: 'Drunk Again' wasn't originally present on the album, being
a B-side or something like that, and was only added as a bonus onto the
CD edition). 'Drunk Again', in particular, ends in a couple minutes of
a ferocious boogie woogie jam where Brooker confirms his own claim of being
more influenced by Jerry Lee Lewis than by Bach: his rollicking piano is
every bit as good as the well known beat of the Killer! Why didn't Gary
play rock'n'roll more often? Finally, these rockers display the talent
of new guitarist Mick Grabham who shines particularly on 'Monsieur R. Monde'.
Great, great, delicious guitar chops everywhere. Even if you're not a Procol
fan, get this album if you find it. It's sure to give you a good time.
And how can one resist the beautiful album cover?
Nothing but the truth! Mail me your ideas
Your worthy comments:
<Nkkimber@aol.com> (01.04.2000)
Although Procol Harum have always been 'a cornerstone of my existence', I have to admit that many albums are very uneven, particularly Exotic Birds. The 'goofy rockers' are fairly pointless, I always used to skip 'Fresh Fruit', and 'Thin End of the Wedge' might possibly be the worst thing they committed to vinyl, at least, until 'the worm and the tree'. However, the standout tracks are truly outstanding, and 'Strong as Samson' is an absolute classic. I always liked the evocative and elegeaic closing track 'New Lamps for Old'.
Year Of Release: 1975
Record rating = 7
Overall rating = 10
Even more pop, but with fewer memorable melodies and, well, kinda
repetitive.
Best song: PANDORA'S BOX
Well, so this is where the well finally begins running dry. One problem
was that even with all of Gary's and Reid's talents, it was getting harder
and harder to remake the same record for the eighth time (the record is
'Ninth' because the countdown includes the 1972 live album). The other
problem, more obvious at the time, was that whatever they were doing was
hardly selling at all - even in the better days when prog rock was an obsession,
Procol Harum was deemed too 'simple', and now that the world was getting
tired of artsy and apparently overbearing symph wizards, it didn't need
the old bandwagon either way. The decision they took was to move further
away in a 'poppy' direction; for said aim they even recruited Leiber/Stoller
(sic!) to produce the record. The songs are all short - the longest doesn't
exceed four and a half minutes, and the classical influences have almost
died away, cuz most of the tracks are R'n'B at heart. The weirdest moments
are Leiber and Stoller's own 'I Keep Forgetting' and the cover of the Beatles'
'Eight Days A Week'. Not that these songs are bad or anything, but seeing
such songs on a Procol Harum record is more like encountering an extract
from a Beijing opera in the middle of Beethoven's Ninth symphony. As usual,
I repeat that I have nothing against diversity, but not in such an unfitting
way. One should, of course, remember that Procol Harum started out as the
Paramounts (which were to classic Procol as Denny Laine's Moody Blues to
Hayward/Lodge's Moody Blues, if you get the analogy), and a certain 'return
to roots' is not all that unexpected here; the problem is, nobody really
needed that return to roots, least of all Procol themselves.
Of course, I can understand them - sometimes, as we all know, a 'return
to roots' acts as a new creative impulse for those who run out of ideas.
It's like going back to the crossroads in order to take a different turn,
like the Stones and the Beatles did in 1968, for instance. But it's hard
to speak of creative impulses here, really, especially when one comes to
realize that these two misguided covers also serve as protecting barriers
against the few tunes that try to sound like the Procol of old but
somehow fail in an almost miserable way. For one thing, there are way too
many tunes that sound like rehashed songs off Grand Hotel: 'The
Unquiet Zone' borrows its thump from 'Bringing Home The Bacon', while 'Typewriter
Torment' can't help reminding me of 'Roberts Box'. Yet the first tune doesn't
manage to recreate the real ferocity of the former, while the second one
is too pedestrian and unfunny compared to the latter. The worst offender,
though, is the pop anthem 'The Final Thrust' where the band sounds so happy-hippy
that it almost makes me sick; it's so mainstreamish that I really wonder
whether the want of commercial success was indeed the main driving
instinct behind these songs. They almost seem to be going for a Queen-like
groove on that one (of the 'let us cling together' type), banalizing their
epic approach in a real nasty way. Even the lyrics seem to suffer: they
are so boring most of the time, so devoid of Reid's usual imagery and so
drastically un-hilarious that it spoils the general picture quite a lot.
That said, this still ain't a bad record. It even manages to contain one
last moment of majesty, one genuine reminder of the band's old power -
the sweeping, scary 'Pandora's Box', probably the last truly great song
for the band. Ironically, it actually happens to be an old outtake dating
back to their earliest sessions! The melody is actually slightly reminiscent
of 'Conquistador' - same music-hally 'dancing' style with boppy, but minor
chord changes. It cooks, anyway. While being considerably short (which
allowed it to be a minor hit single), it achieves everything in just three
minutes, combining the 'pirate' imagery of A Salty Dog with the
energy of Broken Barricades. The only thing I don't really understand
is the connection between the title (which is an allegory for all the illnesses
and wrongdoings of mankind) and the actual lyrics, but who am I to guess?
Anyway, besides that obvious three-minute wonder, there's also the emotional
thrust of 'Fool's Gold' and the little touch of amusing lyrical self-deprecation
on 'Without A Doubt' (although the melody is a concoction from several
earlier good tunes).
'The Piper's Tune' and the lethargic, bluesy 'Taking The Time' are also
pleasant, lazy shuffles that aren't that hard to listen to, just a bit
boring at times. Both will, however, easily appeal to Procol fans, as Gary
is extremely prominent - I'd bet you anything that a large number of people
just can't get enough of Mr Brooker's lazy, complaintive croon backed with
relaxative piano chords, particularly when the words come together in a
real vocal melody and the piano chords can be traced to a real instrumental
melody, which they can - it's just that they both penetrate my soul a few
inches less deep than your average Procol classic.
So on careful listen one can certainly distinguish a fair share of good
songs. The major problem with the album is that it ain't heartfelt, and
I don't really know whether they cared about the record at all. Except
for 'Pandora's Box', not even a single tune rocks with the sincerity of
old, and there are absolutely no 'sweeps of majesty' like on 'The Idol'
or 'As Strong As Samson'. It isn't even interesting to dance to the fast
songs, and where are those great Jerry Lee Lewis impressions? Gone they
are. Even Mick Grabham sounds dull and depressed most of the time. 'Regression'
is the word: much too often this LP sounds like a Procol Harum tribute
band.
Except, of course, for the places where it sounds like a Beatles tribute
band. Dig that 'Eight Days A Week' cover!
Taking the time, don't forget to mail your ideas
Your worthy comments:
Kenneth Willis <kenneth.e.willis@bt.com> (22.02.2000)
There are only 2 reasons for making a cover of someone else's work (imo).
The first is that the new version is simply better than the original.
The second is that the new version is totally different from the original.
A cover version which is neither one nor the other (it can hardly be both,
it seems to me) has no justification for its existence.
When you wrote "Dig that Eight Days A Week cover" I think you
were being kind. I can't believe Procol did this, so I choose to believe
it was the producers' idea to which they unwillingly submitted!
Your comparison with encountering an extract from a Beijing opera in the
middle of Beethoven's Ninth symphony is very apt!
Year Of Release: 1977
Record rating = 6
Overall rating = 9
A few misguided avantgarde ideas in a totally unsuitable period.
Other than that - a fine and convincing swan song.
Best song: THE MARK OF THE CLAW
Of course, this is the worst out of all the 'classic ten' PH records.
So what? It's still terribly underrated, mostly because of two conventional
things: (a) it had the bad luck of being released in 1977, when every critic
that would dare to praise an art rock record was simultaneously signing
his own death sentence, and (b) because it contains that wretched 'Worm
And Tree' suite. We'll deal with the suite later. Here I'll just say that
now, when more than twenty years separate us from the Dark Ages of Art
Rock, it's time to re-instate historical justice and admit the value of
the few, but the few good art rock records that came out around that time
- Going For The One, ELP's Works, and, most notably, Something
Magic.
I guess that saying a trite phrase like 'this record's pessimism is so
overbearing that it isn't hard to understand the band was in its closing
phase' doesn't particularly work for Procol Harum, a band whose music was
always built on minor melodies and pessimistic concepts; at least, beginning
from Home, we haven't seen a totally joyful PH album (Exotic
Birds And Fruit was close, though). But anyway, there's something about
the first side of this album that makes me feel more sincerely the stress,
disillusionment and just exhaustedness - not the exhaustion of ideas, rather
the exhaustion of trying to break through with such a kind of music, exhaustion
of being forced to constantly battle with the world over the right to write
something like that. In this way, some of the tracks are clearly throwaway
because they simply did not care. I mean, they didn't care at all, and
if only Brooker wasn't such a truly talented composer, this could have
been a disastrous mess. Songs like the title track, a lame stealfest from
classical tunes, or the bizarre, completely out-of-place 'Wizard Man' that's
just a happy pop Abba-esque song, indicate exactly what I just said and
nothing else. (As far as I know, 'Wizard Man' wasn't present on the original
release, and its inclusion amidst the numbers, not even as a bonus
track, is one of the strangest decisions on album composure I ever witnessed).
On top of it, they still manage to pull off three beautiful tracks on the
first side which, although not ranking among their finest works, are still
quite luvvvily. Okay, 'The Mark Of The Claw' isn't exactly beautiful: it's
written in the finest Trower traditions, a hard-hitting rocker with a well-conceived
riff and some rattle-the-wall solos. The coda, where the riff is being
reprised and silenced for a number of times, is quite mesmerizing. And
the two gentle sad songs, 'Skating On Thin Ice' and 'Strangers In Space',
are so utterly, hopelessly sad and tragic that you might think Gary (and
Keith) were in really big trouble at the time. 'Strangers In Space', in
fact, almost makes me shiver in its imagery of utmost loneliness and disillusionment.
Maybe it does go on for too long and is too dang repetitive - the chorus
is repeated for God only knows how many times - but it still ain't no 'TV
Caesar'. A fitting testament to the career of Procol Harum, indeed.
So what do we find on the second side of the album? 'The Worm And The Tree'.
The apple of controversy, if one might permit a little metaphor here. Completely
unaware of the time and the place, the band unexplainedly decided to dedicate
the second side to a monolithic, eighteen-and-a-half-minute suite (at a
time when even Yes didn't dare to record more than a... err... fifteen-minute
one. Geez, guess this comparison doesn't exactly work). What's even worse,
it is a full-fledged classical piece, with occasional elements of dance
music (!; but what is the 'Enervation' part if not dance music?) thrown
in. And Gary doesn't even sing the verses - he recites them, usually in
between the parts, sometimes over the music, but there ain't even a single
bit of singing. The lyr..., er, the piece of poetry is unbearably straightforward
even for Reid: it's a fable. Yes, a fable about a worm who hid in
a tree and fed on it and devoured it and the tree grew rotten and the forest
stank. And then a man came and he chopped down the tree and he set fire
to it and the worm was trapped in the tree and it burst. And so the worm
was gone forever but the tree was regenerated from the ashes. The moral
you can define for yourselves. Golly, do you think it has anything to do
with Procol Harum's own fate? If PH is the tree, then the worm must probably
be the Sex Pistols!!
Anyway, some of the music on the second side is good - some piano
and orchestra parts, a couple of guitar solos, they're nice. But of course
it's easy to see why everybody hated the track so much. I myself have mixed
feelings towards it, and I don't really think PH were that good at creating
long, multi-part epics. Dang, I don't even feel passion for 'In Held Twas
In I'; why should I feel something towards 'The Worm And The Tree?' You
tell me!
So, I guess you already got it that it's the last record of the 'classical'
Procol Harum. After that, the band members went their own ways; the only
thing I know is that Brooker had a moderately successful solo career which
I might even check into someday. Hell, who knows? I might even review it
someday! (Trower, of course, already had a much more fabulous solo career
going on). This boring life dragged on for about fifteen years, the only
significant event during that time being the tragic demise of drummer B.
J. Wilson. After that, nostalgia pulled the former partners together, and
in 1991 they gathered again for a reunion album called Prodigal Stranger
which I'll be reviewing in a couple of moments.
Strangers in space! Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Eamonn Monaghan <e.mon@virgin.net> (30.10.99)
One summer holiday, nearly twenty years ago, waiting to start my first
term at London University, I bought this album. My one and only ever Procol
Harum buy, excepting a 'Whiter Shade of Place/Homburg' oldie sing re -
release. I bought Neil Young's Rust never Sleeps the same day. Why
did I buy it? I just thought 'Hmmmm, Procol Harum, tuneful - yes I used
to like them, nice cover art I wonder what it sounds like'.
......and my impression now? Actually, the songs on the first side I found
quite entertaining and not a little spooky, perhaps not 24carat classics
but very good nonetheless. An extra track on UK releases was 'Wizard' which
was the only thumb twiddler - a filler if ever there was one, an r'n'b
- ish pop rock tune to play in lifts and supermarkets.
As for 'The Worm and the Tree' - cringeworthy certainly - engaging and
entertaining - actually yes it was! It always brought a smile to my face
and a little belly laugh - it was quite a jolly ditty really and while
Gary's gravelly voice was not best suited to narration, he is no Richard
Burton (Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds - from the same year), the
instrumentation is polished and very 'warm' sounding. In short, don't take
this too seriously, listen to this as a piece of music, and a jolly pleasant
little romp at that, and you will be entertained - I was.
And while the advent of the Sex Pistols may have blown the good ship 'Art
Rock' out of the water why oh why was the aforementioned Jeff Wayne's War
of the Worlds , Andrew Lloyd Webber's truly awful Variations on
a theme of Paganini and the Rice/Lloyd-Webber Evita cast recordings
(all form the same year) left unscathed to scale the highest heights when
they really were overblown and downright bluddy awful! (Still are)
Thomas M. Silvestri <cc3000@earthlink.net> (23.09.2000)
As far as I know, the American version of Something Magic always contained "Wizard Man"; the vinyl copy I still have, bought only shortly after release, contains it. (I'd like to know why the U.S. version came out on Chrysalis/Warner Bros. instead of Chrysalis proper, and why Pete Solley joined for this one album and Alan Cartwright left, but those are questions for another time.) As for the song itself, I don't think it should be judged so harshly. It fits neatly into that category of "Songs Written Expertly for Radio Play by Bands That Hadn't Had an AM Hit in Awhile (or Ever)," ergo the Kinks' "Lola," the Who's "Squeeze Box," Tull's "Bungle in the Jungle," etc. And what's this broadside against art-rock, be it delivered then or now? I imagine you're not including brilliant albums like Tull's Minstrel in the Gallery or Songs from the Word or Heavy Horses (actually, combining the last two and dropping the weaker tracks would make a phenomenal album). But are you seriously saying that the work of people like Crimson, Gabriel, Henry Cow, Hatfield and the North, Peter Hamill, etc. were of no value in the late '70s? I should say not!
Year Of Release: 1991
Record rating = 4
Overall rating = 7
One of the most unnecessary and misguided 'comebacks' I ever listened
to.
Best song: THE TRUTH WON'T FADE AWAY
A decent return to form this is not. After spending fifteen years
working on solo projects, most of the original members suddenly felt a
surge of nostalgia, which was all the more appropriate seeing as the old
groups were suddenly honoured all over again. So Brooker, Fisher, Trower
and Reid, the four columns upon which the original Procol was based, got
together again and decided to cash in on the past glories. I say past,
because any sane person's only reason for buying this record could have
been its attribution to Procol Harum: viewed independently, it has no other
reason for existence.
Lame, lame, incredibly lame. For the first time I realized how crucial,
in fact, was B. J. Wilson's drumming style on their original records. With
Wilson deceased, there is no new drummer in the group, and the session
players mostly stick to modern beat - you know, the one that gets your
feet tapping and is booming and all that, but which doesn't contribute
to the sound at all. In fact, most of these tunes have nothing to
do with the 'classic' Harum style - they are just your ordinary synth-pop
numbers with nothing to distinguish one from another. The playing credits,
in fact, baffle me totally and entirely: Brooker is credited for 'piano'
and Fisher for 'Hammond organ', but there's just about a couple spoonful
organ on the record, and if you call these cheesy synths 'piano', well,
you might as well credit Trower for playing 'mandoline'. As for Trower
himself, he's a huge disappointment: either he was kept from unfurling
in the studio or he just recorded his parts in a sleepy daze, because none
of his riffs or solos even approaches the level of energy and inspiration
displayed on the first band records. Pathetic. Reid, as is expected, usually
sticks to nostalgic passages or rather banal universalist remarks, and
his lyrics don't even try to come close to any of his previous solid efforts.
In all, this isn't even a 'pale shadow' of Procol Harum: if not for Brooker's
usual tenor voice (which I never liked in the first place and certainly
don't like it more nowadays), I would never have guessed where these songs
could come from.
Nevertheless, there are three or four tracks on here that could probably
be considered 'highlights' (relatively, of course). There's the bouncy,
memorable 'The Truth Won't Fade Away' which still sounds more like Elton
John than Procol, but at least it does have some guilty charm of its own.
'Perpetual Motion', though severely modernized, does look a little like
some Exotic Birds outtake, and the closing 'The Pursuit Of Happiness'
is certainly Procol-like; if not for grossly banal lyrics, totally unworthy
of such an intelligent poet as Keith, it could have made a passable contribution
to the group's post-Trower days. Unfortunately, it's the last song on the
album, and in order to appreciate it, I had to sit through eight or nine
pieces of dreck, that, instead of creative melodies, classically influenced
instrumental passages and Dylanish sagas, offer us melodyless rhythm tracks,
lyrical cliches, generic female choruses, and electronic drum beats.
I still can't understand how this album could fail so much - of course,
I always knew that it hardly got any positive reviews at all, but then
again, neither did Something Magic, which, although not the band's
finest effort, was still miles better and more entertaining than everybody
assured me it was. I also thought that by the beginning of the Nineties,
old bands were starting to get rid of modern trends and one by one started
to return to their initial sound. Nothing of the kind. Nothing.
This is your average keyboards pop with nothing to redeem it. Ugh. Maybe
they got so disused to playing together after such a long period of time?
What a bummer. If you see this album for ten cents or something, get it
for 'The Truth Won't Fade Away'. Or, better still, don't. This might shatter
your faith in the band as it almost managed to shatter mine - luckily,
this was the last Procol Harum record I got, so I really don't care anyway.
The truth won't fade away
if you mail your ideas!
THE
LONG GOODBYE 
Year Of Release: 1995
Record rating = 5
Overall rating = 8
Weak symphonic arrangements of great Procol tunes. Do you really
need this?
Best song: CONQUISTADOR
This is the last of the Procol releases, and since it's relatively new,
I'm afraid it can often substitute 'the real thing' in CD stores. Of course,
it might already be out of print as well, but buyer beware: this isn't
really a Procol Harum record. It's the 'symphonic Procol Harum' - Procol
Harum tunes played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. I only list it
here because Gary does sing on most of the tracks, and there are
also a couple appearances from former band members, like Robin Trower and
Matthew Fisher on 'Repent Walpurgis'; also, since symphonic arrangements
of Procol Harum music are not at all a big surprise, many fans consider
this to be the real twelfth album of the band.
Unfortunately, it doesn't hold a candle to the 1972 Live album.
The difference is that in 1972, the orchestra only helped enhance the sound
- its basis was still provided by the band, and the results were fair enough.
Here, the band is missing - you only get to hear the orchestral and choir
backing. That could be all right by me, but, unfortunately, this is where
you get to realize that Procol Harum were indeed a band - not a
cheap substitute for a symphonic orchestra. About half of the songs on
here are inescapably ruined, and none sound superior or even equal to the
originals. The opening 'Conquistador' is okay, since the mighty soaring
string chorus almost substitutes all the necessary guitar/organ work. But
'Homburg' amounts to a pleasant moody tune without the catchy, majestic
piano line; 'Grand Hotel' is ridiculized by Tom Jones' operatic singing
(okay, I know the song was originally written in opera style, but
it was the Brooker singing that really made it original); 'Pandora's Box'
is unexplainably instrumental; and the biggest letdown is 'A Whiter Shade
Of Pale' that is deprived of its stunning organ work and drumming and is
transformed into a bland, loose, relaxed air. For Heaven's sake don't let
this be your first Procol purchase - if I were to hear this version first,
I'd probably lose any interest in the band forever.
Moreover, the final four selections are rather strange. As far as I understand,
Gary wanted the entire history of Procol to be represented on the album,
so towards the end he mostly sticks with obscure semi-classics and un-classics
from later albums (note that Shine On Brightly and Home are
still not represented by anything). Okay, 'Strangers In Space' (from Something
Magic) is a good song, drenched in deepest pessimism and sorrow; but
again, why did they think that substituting Gary's vocals with a barely
audible female chorus could be a good idea? It couldn't. And why 'Butterfly
Boys'? Wouldn't 'The Idol' or 'As Strong As Samson' off Exotic Birds
be a better idea? And why '(You Can't) Turn Back The Page'? That's one
of the most boring tracks on Prodigal Stranger! And, frankly speaking,
the only Brooker solo tune captured on here (title track) doesn't make
me hungry for any further venturing into Brooker's solo career. Although,
like I said, if this were my first purchase, I probably wouldn't have been
so hot for Procol Harum at all.
Nevertheless, as much as they try to ruin the perfect Procol classics,
they are still classics, and you simply can't get away from the fact. If
you can't find anything else by the band but this, get it still. 'Conquistador',
'A Salty Dog', and 'Repent Walpurgis' are all great on here, and as for
the remaining stuff, well you just gotta assume that the originals are
a good deal better. If you find out you hate this album, you're probably
not welcome to bother about Procol Harum at all; but if you're at least
vaguely interested, start digging deeper and you'll be rewarded.
You can't turn back the page until you've mailed your ideas!
Most of Procol members, old and new, have had solo careers going on,
and reviewing all of them is a task worthy of comparison with reviewing
all the solo projects by ex-King Crimson and ex-Genesis members (not to
mention ex-Beatles members, but at least that task is fully rewarding).
However, out of all these careers, only Robin Trower enjoyed some more
or less deserved success, breaking through the charts in America and achieving
a true cult status that at one point threatened to overshadow Procol itself.
On the other hand, Trower's solo career is so distinct and different from
the classic Procol sound, and his audiences were always so very different
from the Procol audiences, that I preferred to dump all of his solo stuff,
some of which is quite worthy but much of which is so-so, on his solo
page.
Since Gary Brooker was the undisputable leader of the band and main composer,
I also got interested in taking a sneak peak at his output, which isn't
that large - the man only had three or four records out in all.
A separate story is the brief recording career of the Paramounts, the band
that started it all...
Year Of Release: 1983
Overall rating = 9
Undistinguishable, but not bad altogether. Can hardly see the link
to Procol Harum, though.
Best song: YOU NEVER HAD IT SO GOOD
The Paramounts are to Procol Harum exactly in the same way as Denny
Laine's Moody Blues are to Hayward/Lodge's Moody Blues: an early predecessor
with decent quality songs but not a whole lot of interesting things about
them; judging by the Paramounts' material, you'd hardly guess they would
grow up to become one of Britain's most noteworthy art rock bands. The
band's constant members throughout its existence were Gary Brooker and
Robin Trower; however, most of its studio recordings were done with Barry
J. Wilson on drums, and an early version of the band had Chris Copping
as its bass player, so it's funny to see how Procol Harum was actually
falling back on its predecessors all the time. (Remember that PH's first
single, 'Whiter Shade Of Pale', was actually recorded by a fictitious band
- Gary had to assemble a real lineup only after its huge commercial success,
and this is where all the old pals, starting from Trower, began to arrive.
Copping, as you remember, joined the band in 1970).
The most interesting thing about the Paramounts - perhaps - is that, unlike
so many more or less renowned British R'n'B combos of the early Sixties,
they were formed really early: they never ripped off the Beatles
in earnest, playing their first shows as early as 1960 or so. Consequently,
their style was somewhat different: less rooted in rock'n'roll and quirky-jerky
dance pop, but leaning far more closely towards the Motown/Stax-Volt edge
of things. Which is also, as far as I can guess, the main reason why the
band was almost never looked upon seriously: Motown influences weren't
exactly the trendiest, nor the most artistically valid ones in an epoch
dominated by 'She Loves You' and 'The Last Time'.
Whiter Shades Of R'n'B is an excellent and all-encompassing compilation
that collects together all of the Paramounts' six singles from 1963-65,
plus throws in four more previously unreleased cuts. (There is actually
an even more rarity-packed collection out there, called Abbey Road Decade,
but I've never seen it). This is just enough to realise what kind of a
band the Paramounts were. And they were? Why, they weren't anything particularly
special. An overall rating of nine is about the maximum I can afford to
a record that's mostly dedicated to inferior re-arrangements of inferior
R'n'B covers - I mean, most of the song titles, even if they were mostly
not written by the band members, never told me anything. I kinda
hoped that 'It Won't Be Long' would turn out to be their take on the Beatles
song, but it came out to be one of the few originals (actually, the first
song written by the Brooker/Trower duo - hold out the champagne glasses),
and a pretty weak one, too. Definitely nothing offensive or stupid, but
I'll have to join the general chorus that screams out: 'Historic Interest!
BOO!'
Professionally speaking, the band is skilled enough, but not any more than
that. The sound is entirely dominated by Brooker's keyboards; in fact,
you might easily sit through an entire half of this record without realizing
that there actually is a real guitar somewhere on here. But even
when it appears (and it turns out that Trower was almost never allowed
to solo on the earliest singles), it's a far cry from Robin's future playing;
apparently, it took him to assimilate and accumulate all that Hendrix influence
in order to become the awesome talent he actually became. All right, I
agree it's debatable as to whether somebody can actually become
a talent, but let us make an assumption, all right? Let us just make an
assumption!
Melodically, the only thing that naturally jumps out at the listener is
the lead-in track, Leiber/Stoller's 'Poison Ivy', the song that briefly
made the band minor stars in 1963 and even spawned them a serious boost
from the Rolling Stones, who called the band the 'best R'n'B outfit in
England' or something like that. Their only chart success (something like
#35, as far as I remember), it's really cute and tight, even if I myself
would still prefer the song in the Stones' own version. But after
that, it's just one mediocre number after another, occasionally pumping
up some steam but more often losing it. To make matters worse, some of
the selected covers are utterly stupid and certainly far from welcome,
like the idiotic 'A Certain Girl' (the incessant 'what's her name? - can't
tell!' chorus really bugs me), or the lyrically childish 'Blue Ribbons'
(heck, stuff like 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' sounds like Arthur Rimbaud in
comparison).
The only tune, in fact, that's really outstanding is their version of P.
F. Sloan's 'You Never Had It So Good', ironically, the band's last single.
Never heard the original, but the cover is a marvel - that sarcastic, tasteful
Dylanish chorus really makes up for any other inconveniencies one might
suffer. And oh yeah, that last track, the unreleased version of Charlie
Mingus' 'Freedom', is at least attractive because it sounds nothing like
the rest of the stuff on here. Moody, slow, with ominous poetic declamations,
almost psychedelic in a sense. Transitional between the Paramounts and
Procol Harum? Who can tell.
To redeem myself, I'd like to reiterate that this package really does have
a lot of historical value - and it's vital not only for Procol Harum fans
(actually, it ain't vital for Procol Harum fans at all, because any Procol
Harum fan is bound to be seriously disappointed), but also for just about
anybody interested in a deeper and more diverse understanding of Britain's
pop music in the first half of the Sixties. We all know the Stones, the
Animals, the Kinks, and the Who; some of us may have also heard of the
Hollies and all the innumerable bubble gum bands like Herman's Hermits;
but the Paramounts were certainly different from them all, and even if
that doesn't necessarily suggest high entertainment value, it certainly
suggests a nice little broadening of the perspective. So grab it if you
see it cheap, and it might just make your day.
You never had it so good, so mail your ideas!
Year Of Release: 1979
Overall rating = 10
A solid, moody pop album with Brooker not relinquishing his melodic
talents; but this is NOT Procol Harum.
Best song: NO MORE FEAR OF FLYING
Gary Brooker's first solo album is very pleasant indeed. But you have
to brace yourself - in the literal sense, too: just look at that cover.
This sounds nothing like classic Procol Harum; occasionally, the band had
already begun to veer towards more simple pop ditties on their last two
albums, but it never really tried to abandon its trademark sound textures.
But in 1979 Gary wasn't too keen on working with his colleagues - after
all, the band had just dispersed, voluntarily and admitting that its time
had passed, and further work with his latest bandmates, not to mention
old stalwarts like Fisher or Trower, would have discredited that statement.
So the team assembled for the recordings is mostly new and not too prominent,
including Tim Renwick on guitars (later worked with Gilmour-led Pink Floyd)
and ex-Fairport Convention member Dave Mattacks on drums. They're all good,
but not outstanding, and therefore No More Fear Of Flying fails
to impress you with the very beauty of the sound itself - Procol could
sometimes get away with their instrumentation even if they lacked a real
melody. Not here; you have to rely almost entirely on Gary's melody-writing
and soulful singing, and only pray everything will turn out all right.
And mostly, it does: old Gary does not fail us one more time. None of these
songs are great, and not a single one matches Procol's greatest; but not
a single truly bad composition here either. The strange thing is that Gary
does three covers, none of which are particularly interesting: 'Pilot',
for instance, is just a piece of grandiose-standing sap. But 'Say It Ain't
So Joe' is nice in its wailing desperation, and Moore-Kosta's 'Savannah'
rocks along quite fine, with a convincing guitar solos and powerful backing
vocals.
On one of the originals, Gary continues to team up with Reid - and it's
actually the best of the originals on here, the rocking, sing-along title
track, built on an addictive organ riff. It's practically impossible to
resist it - especially when it's backed up with such loud, steady, self-assured
drumming and a subtle, but powerful horn section. Actually, it does
sound a little like a Procol outtake, something that could have been easily
included on Procol's Ninth, for instance. It's also the only truly
memorable tune off the album (not that the others are bad - they just don't
linger on for too long).
For all the other songs, Brooker has chosen to collaborate with Pete Sinfield
- I initially shuddered, remembering Sinfield's usual lyrics for King Crimson
and ELP, and lamenting the departure of Keith Reid, but apparently, somewhere
in the late Seventies Sinfield had gone slightly whacko (or put it the
other way round - suddenly got cured of schizophrenia) and began to mostly
pen simplistic love lyrics. Some of these you can witness on ELP's Love
Beach; others have made their way onto Gary's solo album. Fortunately,
Gary's melodies are better than contemporary ELP's, and this makes No
More Fear more or less succeed where Love Beach had more or
less crashed head first into the dirt.
Well, I'm not a big fan of 'Give Me Something To Remember You By', a rather
generic, if melodic and steadfast tune; but 'Angelina', with its attractive
acoustic work and Gary at his most seducing - he has these kinds of pleading,
whiny intonations that melt your heart away - is a highlight. 'Let Me In'
is so-so, but at least danceable. 'Old Manhattan Melodies' is a charming,
convincing tribute to, well, what the title implies - not that the song
itself is an 'old Manhattan melody', because its melody is rather vague
and faceless, and, in fact, I can easily picture the song sung by, say,
the likes of a grizzly Rod Stewart, but somehow Gary manages to make it
where Rod would probably break it. I suppose it's all because of the instrumentation
- the man never relies on programming or studio automatons, and plays refreshing,
sparkling pianos along with real strings and acoustic guitars. And, of
course, Gary had never 'violated' his voice - it bears no hideous connotations
as Rod's, and always serves to make the song more noble and solemn. Hell,
even 'Get Up And Dance', the closing track that's also about exactly the
thing the title proposes, is enjoyable, despite the fact that I can easily
picture the song sung by, say, the likes of... a grizzly Ringo Starr. Hrr-hrr.
The CD release adds three bonus tracks which are quite essential, especially
one more Brooker-Reid collaboration - 'Fat Cats', a hilarious/dangerous
rocker which is the fastest on record and one of the fastest songs, I'd
bet, Gary ever recorded. 'S.S. Blues' is, of course, mostly interesting
for its title - Gary does add '(Self - Sufficient)' in the title,
but what the heck? Few people pay attention to parentheses, much less what's
written inside them. When the man goes around singing 'I got the SS Blues
- supermarket looks just fine', the impression I get is rather, er, ambivalent.
And 'Switchboard Susan' really rocks - a great piece of boogie, probably
sorely missed on the original release.
A 'trashy' album, some might call it - apart from (maybe) the title track,
solemnity and majesty you'll find not. If your ideal in music is 'A Salty
Dog', perhaps you'd better steer clear. But in retrospect, No More Fear
is quite the logical conclusion to the 'mainstream-ization' of Procol's
music that had begun in 1975. There's nothing groundbreaking or stylistically
outstanding on this record, but there is nothing offensive, either: so
it's probably a must for all diehard Brooker fans. In any case, it's always
refreshing to see a 'classic' art-rocker tackle some 'ordinary pop' subjects
and not lose his face in the process. If you're wondering, this is a very,
very risky and demanding operation - just look what happened to Genesis!
Give me something to remember you by - your ideas, for example
APPENDIX B: THOMAS SILVESTRI'S RECOLLECTIONS OF LIVE PH SHOWS
I'm surprised there aren't more reports on U.S. PH shows, given how many there seemed to be back in the salad days. So I'll try to offer some info on same. I won't go much into one of the early Fillmore shows or the House of Blues show from '95 that I saw, seeing as how they've already been covered pretty extensively on the great Beyond the Pale website. I will say that the early PH show at the Fillmore was unusually tight and loud for that time, when many bands didn't sound too much evolved from garage status. Also, just for the record regarding the disappointing stateside reception of "Homburg," I'd like to mention that the early New York City FM station WOR played "Homburg" almost as much as "Whiter Shade..." and I remember being distinctly perplexed in the fall of '67 when the former didn't become as big a hit as the latter. But to get on with the live shows... It was a bitterly cold night in February of '72 when my friend and I ventured out from Northeast Queens by way of Northern Boulevard to see Procol Harum at C.W. Post College on Long Island. This was only a few days after the import of Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick, released in the U.S. in the exact same version a month later, was starting to get played on FM radio. It was around the same time that the early Genesis and Renaissance albums were getting a little U.S. airplay on FM radio. And it was only a short time after ELP's revelatory Pictures at an Exhibition was released in the U.S. and Britain -- in short, it was a terribly exciting time for that unjustly maligned (these days, that is -- back then it RULED!) genre known as British progressive rock. The North Shore of Long Island is often compared to the outskirts of London by those who've been on both sides of the Atlantic and so it was particularly fitting to be driving through the dark, wintry streets bordering the Long Island Sound to get to the Post campus to see PH. I can't remember who the opening act was; it's possible that there wasn't any or we got there late. Procol's set was amazing, however, and Dave Ball was pretty slick on guitar, though we were a little disappointed to hear Trower had left. They played most of their best-loved concert songs -- "Quite Rightly So," "Shine On Brightly," "Conquistador," "A Salty Dog," "Whaling Stories," "Still There'll Be More," "A Whiter Shade..." and "In Held 'Twas In I," of course. But what I remember most vividly was that they debuted three fantastic new songs -- "Bringing Home the Bacon," "Fires (Which Burnt Brightly)," and "Roberts' Box," the chords to which I immediately went home and tried to figure out. (I'd just started playing mandolin to add to drums, having been, like B.J., an admirer of versatile drummers like the Band's Levon Helm and the second-era Byrds' Gene Parsons.) I waited anxiously for the next Procol studio studio album, which would surely contain these songs. But lo and behold...
...the next album was the Live with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra LP, and we were next to see the group in Central Park sometime in July, I think it was, of '72. Talk before the show swirled through midtown Manhattan to the effect that Matthew Fisher had rejoined the band! As I personally think PH was often at its strongest when it had the benefit of Brooker, Fisher, and Trower all singing and writing, I was particularly excited by this prospect. When no Fisher appeared on the stage, Brooker explained -- I'm quoting as accurately as I can here, as I don't want to ruffle any feathers -- that Fisher had rejoined and then quit after about ten gigs, apparently admitting that he only wanted to get some money together to further his career as a producer. Maybe Gary just wasn't in a good mood about it at the time, but that's what he said that night. He also introduced a new guitarist named Mick Grabham, saying of Dave Ball "He didn't work out, did he?" I'd heard vaguely of Grabham by way of his solo LP Mick the Lad, which I'd read of in a British record store catalogue that I used to order from, and was very impressed with his playing on this night. Despite these personnel rifts, the show was in no way a disappointment. The band still retained many of the old favorites and threw in some special treats I'd never seen them do, such as "In the Wee Small Hours of Sixpence" and "Pilgrim's Progress," the latter now with Gary on vocals, of course. Gary also did something I've never seen him do before or since -- jump up another octave on that "I can see NO...place to unwind" phrase on the last verse of "Conquistador." B.J. was in particularly fine form on this night, doing that one-handed drum roll with foot pedal magic to great effect. I seem to remember that his solo on "Power Failure" was rather more manic than at the Post show, somewhat anticipating the playing on Grand Hotel where the drums seem to function almost as much melodically as rhythmically (as another Paler has noted on the Beyond... site). It was also, if memory serves, the last time we saw the band do the complete "In Held...," with all the spoken parts verbatim. For all this, we were still wondering about those three great songs from a few months ago. Until...
...October '73 (maybe November?) in the Colden Auditorium at Queens College in Flushing, Queens (one of the five boroughs of New York City, for those folks who ain't crossed the pond). With the Chrysalis label solidly behind them now, the show had Tir Na Nog doing a rather pleasant (for fans of the Martin Carthy/Donovan/Cat Stevens/Ian Anderson arc of acoustic English music) opening set of about half an hour. Then a surprisingly long (over an hour) set by the second act, the Below the Salt-era Steeleye Span, of whom I had never heard and who completely blew us all away! The live, a capella, five-part-harmonized "Gaudete" was thrilling, the instrumentals were delightful (Maddy kicking her skirt up and playing spoons), and the harder rocking folk songs like "The Blacksmith" and "Royal Forrester" were astoundingly great! If I remember correctly (I wasn't in the habit of writing down set lists back then unless I was reviewing the show for the Queens College paper, which on this night I was not), the last two songs were "John Barleycorn" (which those of us who'd seen Traffic do at this same venue three years earlier wouldn't have imagined anyone else would dare touch) and the achingly beautiful "Saucy Sailor." By the time Procol came on, the show was already worth the money ($3.50 with student discount!), but they were remarkable as usual. They played just about everything from Grand Hotel except "For Liquorice John" (too bad, I always loved that one, especially the bridge with the harmonica) and B.J. got off the drums to play mandolin on "Souvenir of London." I think Copping may've played acoustic guitar on that, too, as my visual memory of the song is Brooker at the piano -- or was it Brooker on guitar? -- and everyone else standing up at the front of the stage in a row. I believe Maddy also came out to sing Christianne Legrand's terrific parts on "Fires..." It was a very loud and energetic show and no one was more surprised than me when the strong sales of ...Hotel earned the band the coveted host slot on the musical ABC-TV show "The Midnight Special" quite a few months after the album had come out in the U.S.
I never saw the original band again after that. I did see PH do a rather short opening set for Jethro Tull at Los Angeles' Greek Theater in September of '93. Gary was in remarkable voice, Geoff Whitehorn seemed to me the closest thing to Trower on guitar since the genuine article, and the inspired drumming of Ian Wallace (whom I admire greatly from his brief stretch with King Crimson) made it a worthy show. They only did about six songs including "Whiter...," "Salty Dog," "The Truth Won't Fade Away," and that updated version of one of my favorite PH songs, "As Strong as Samson." (For those who haven't heard the latter in its new incarnation, picture Gary playing a piano thing reminiscent of the string intro from the Edmonton Symphony "Conquistador" underneath more up-tempo vocals and you sort of have it.) The most fun moment of the show was Gary talking about sitting backstage with Anderson and discussing where the musical inspiration for "Whiter..." came from. "Maybe it was this one," Gary said, then played and sang a measure or two of "When a Man Loves a Woman." '"No, maybe it was this one," and then he did the same with "No Woman No Cry." As great as it was to hear "Whiter...," one couldn't help but want to hear him sing all of those two other songs! There was also an amusing quote from Gary with respect to the prospect of future PH shows and records: "The only thing between you and us...is everybody else!" One complaint: why doesn't Fisher sing some of his songs at these reunion shows? He only has one of the most remarkably cool-sounding voices ever! (What I wouldn't give to hear him sing "Play the Game" or even -- dare I suggest it for a PH show? -- "Going for a Song"!)
Finally, a note on that House of Blues show, which was quite good if unlike any PH show I've ever seen in that the emphasis really did seem to be on blues, from PH originals like "Wish Me Well" to covers of R&B classics. (Ray Charles' "Drown in My Own Tears" may've been one, I think.) I was a little late getting to the show and as I raced down Sunset Boulevard in my beat-up Nissan Sentra and made a hard right toward the HOB parking lot, I had to stop short for a middle-aged fellow lugging a case of some sort across the street! Sure enough, it was GB himself, and as he looked up to make sure I stopped for him, I called out the window that it was an honor to have almost run him down, which got a good laugh out of him as he headed into the club. P.S. Gary was also great at Ringo's Rock 'n' Roll Show at the Universal Amphitheatre in Los Angeles in spring of '99. In addition to interacting marvelously with Jack Bruce, Todd Rundgren, Ringo, et al (you haven't heard Gary play organ till you've heard him play it on "Bang the Drum All Day"), he sang "Whiskey Train," "A Salty Dog" (Todd on slide doing "the whale bits"), and "Whiter..." with Todd on acoustic twelve-string. He also looked immaculately cool during that handful of piano notes at the end of "I Feel Free" when everything stops for a moment, glancing across the stage at Jack for a beat as he did just before they roared into the finale. (Neither Ringo nor Simon Kirke were up to Ginger's playing on that one, however.) I can't remember which classic Beatle song Gary said the following after -- Ringo always squeezes in quite a few of the greatest hits -- but before doing "Whiskey Train" Gary said, "A lot of you probably think you have shitty jobs, but I have the shittiest job...because I have to sing after (song title here)." Maybe it wasn't a Beatle song at all but rather "Sunshine of Your Love," which brought down the house with Bruce's lead bass playing and Todd's astounding Clapton re-creations.
P.P.S. Just a word on Robbie Robertson's famously quoted knock on PH in Rolling Stone back in the late '60s, a big sore spot with PH fans: Personally, I've always felt he should've thought twice before criticizing them that way. Notwithstanding endless praise from rock critics and folks like Eric Clapton, the Band's work dropped off disastrously in quality after their first three albums, whereas one could argue that PH's fourth, Home, was their best up to that time and the start of a whole new golden era for them.