Bill Bruford, who is best known as the drummer of Yes in the early years and then of King Crimson (on which see my post here), comments on his involvement with Genesis once Phil Collins became lead singer in 1976 (after the departure of Gabriel, on which see my earlier post on Trick of the Tail). Bruford became Genesis’ drummer for the 1976 tour. Seeing that Bruford was, at one point, a member of all three of the most well-known progressive rock bands, it is interesting and somewhat humorous to hear his perspective.

First of all, he comments on how Genesis was viewed in the early days:

I think everybody in Yes and King Crimson thought that Genesis would never make it because they sounded like a combination of the two groups. We thought they might be too late — we’d been there and done it. We saw them along the lines of ‘Genesis are quite fun, but they’ve got a guitarist who sits down like Robert Fripp and a drummer who plays a bit like Bill; the Americans have already had that’. . . (p. 198)

Bruford also comments on the overall atmosphere of each of the three bands in connection with his own less orchestrated style:

I like to wing it a bit on stage, but Genesis were very, very precise. I’m much more accustomed to making it up as I’m going along. . . I’d learnt the tunes from the albums, and if it felt a little different from what Phil would have done, people would look at me and say, ‘Hey, Bill, could you make it sound a bit more like the record?’. . . [N]ot being much of the session type, I didn’t do terribly well at just delivering the parts. In fact, what finally drove me out of rock n’ roll was the repetition. That’s what had separated me from Yes. Why I had found King Crimson so attractive was because they were way more open: ‘Surprise us, go ahead, let’s improvise, terrific.’. . . (p. 198).

The mood in Genesis was such a contrast to the chaos of Yes, where nobody could agree what day of the week it was . . . How we in Yes ever got anything done, I still don’t know (p. 199).

Anyone who has heard an album like King Crimson’s 21st Century Schizoid Man knows what Bruford means by improvisation.

The sitar is a stringed instrument with strong resonation that was used since the middle ages in classical Hindustani music in India, as explained in the Wikipedia article. The sitar has a distinctive sound and produces a rich harmony. Before the mid-1960s, it would occur to noone that the sitar could be a rock and roll instrument as well, but that’s what it became.

There were apparently two main performers who first noticed the sitar and began to get others, such as George Harrison, interested in the instrument. In 1965, David Crosby (then of the Byrds) came into contact with the musician and sitarist Ravi Shankar and began to spread the news about classical Indian music.

The second figure was Shawn Phillips, whose Second Contribution was a topic of a previous post here. Phillips himself was more directly responsible for Harrison’s use of the instrument, it seems. Phillips, who had already become familiar with playing the sitar, actually gave George Harrison lessons, as mentioned in a recent interview of Phillips in Modern Guitars Magazine:

Interviewer: I understand that you sang backup on the Beatles “Lovely Rita”. How did you get there and what was that like?

Phillips: Well, hanging out in England and working with Don, you just sort of ran into all these people at the clubs we’d got to like the Speakeasy. We’d run into Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, all these people and gradually you get to know people.

At one point I was giving sitar lessons to George Harrison. He was just getting started with the instrument. We had dinner over at his house, I don’t know how many times, and I’d sit down and give him the pointers I knew and so forth and one day he said, “Why don’t you guys come over and visit the studio? We’re doing this new album.”

We walked in and Paul said, “Hey, why don’t’ you guys sing back up on this tune?”

You don’t think about the fact that you may be making music history. We were just a bunch of guys hanging out.

The sitar was soon to become an important sound of the Beatles as they entered their more interesting, psychedelic stage. “Norwegian wood” on Rubber Soul (1965) was the first use of the sitar on a rock record, it seems, and Harrison would continue to use the sitar along with his continued involvement in Hinduism. You can read a good description of this influence on Harrison’s life in The Guardian obituary. Soon others such as the Rolling Stones’ Brian Jones likewise began to incorporate the sitar into their music, as on “Paint it black” (1966).

As to Shawn Phillips, there is an interesting video on Youtube in which Shawn Phillips explains a bit about the sitar and he and Donovan perform on Pete Seeger’s Rainbow Quest show in 1965. Whether this was before or after giving lessons to Harrison, I’m not sure:

There’s also a video there regarding George Harrison’s subsequent lessons with Ravi Shankar:

]]> http://www.philipharland.com/VinylAddiction/2008/01/12/unexpected-rock-instruments-sitar/feed/ 1 http://www.philipharland.com/VinylAddiction/2007/10/08/21st-century-schizoid-man-king-crimsons-debut-1969/ http://www.philipharland.com/VinylAddiction/2007/10/08/21st-century-schizoid-man-king-crimsons-debut-1969/#comments Mon, 08 Oct 2007 05:41:21 +0000 pharland http://www.philipharland.com/VinylAddiction/2007/10/08/21st-century-schizoid-man-king-crimsons-debut-1969/ Seldom does an album-cover embody the essence of a song so perfectly (or vice versa), but that is the case with the disturbing cover of King Crimson’s debut album of 1969, the year of my birth (art by Barry Godber). The thing is, An Observation by King Crimson (© 1969 E.G. Music Ltd) is such a mixture of extremely well-constructed and performed pieces that you should not let the cover or the first frightening and experimental, yet intriguing, track scare you away! (How could it with its capturing allure?)”21st century schizoid man” is one of the most intense songs I have ever heard, and it was only in the last month that I heard it for the first time (as far as I can remember) when I picked up a near mint copy of the album at a flea market for a buck fifty (the deal of the 21st century). This piece starts out intense and dominating, with its screaming, electronically altered vocals and throbbing rhythm section. It then segues into a no less intense free jazz saxophone bombardment (the sax was there from the beginning, in case you didn’t notice) followed by a jazz guitar solo that gives you no doubt that this is a progressive rock tune, blending jazz influences in a hard rock onslaught. One might wonder whether or not this was a Charles Mingus piece in the jazz moments (wait for a minute or so into into the track), if not for the electric guitar: “Wednesday night prayer meeting” meets Led Zeppelin.

Yet what is amazing is the way in which the entire album is not overtaken by this opening track. The other tracks on the album demonstrate the experimental range of this team led by Robert Fripp and including Greg Lake as vocalist at this point (soon to be the instrumental vocalist in Emerson, Lake and Palmer). The heavy-duty opening track is followed by an equally complicated but far more subtle tune, “I talk to the wind”, with its flute and clarinet duet, accompanied by the far less terrifying, perhaps comforting, vocals of Greg Lake.

The somehow calming funeral dirge, “Epitaph” (track 3), has a capturing, dramatic build as the world seemingly comes to an end in the final apocalypse. Here acoustic guitars meet somber clarinets and strings as Greg Lake soothingly (somehow) sings: “Confusion will be my epitaph, as I crawl a cracked and broken path. If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh. But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying, Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying”.

Side two finds more experimentation in a lengthy tune (“Moonchild”) followed by the climactic “The court of the Crimson King”. This finale almost demands that you sing along (at least my conscience demands it). Here again there is a sophistication that beats even the most well-written progressive tune by the likes of Yes or ELP, and one could not ask more of the flute solo.

Wikipedia artricle on King Crimson and their albums here.

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Origins

Progressive rock’s origins are primarily in the late 1960s. Prog rock’s climax came in the mid-1970s before it lost out to the flood of punk and new wave (as well as pop) in the late 1970s and early 80s. While progressive rock was complicated and well-thought-out music that also required a high level of musical ability to perform, punk was raw, direct and emotional (though also involving creative artistry nonetheless, of course). In the rock family, prog rock was the twenty-something year old brother with musical training and an even keel; punk was the sixteen year old yelling what he felt and angrily bashing holes in the wall with his guitar.

The two were clearly at odds in many ways and there could only be one winner, at least in the short run. Progressive rock waned. Punk took the short-term spotlight and punk-influenced new wave began heavily influencing pop music generally. Punk, new wave, and pop all shared in common a simple structure and, sometimes, simple lyrics. In some cases prog rock bands decided to shed some of the progressive elements and changed their style to some degree in order to adapt and maintain attention in the pop scene (e.g. Yes’ 90125 ["Owner of a Lonely Heart"] and Genesis albums following Abacab [e.g. "Invisible Touch"]).

Progressive rock is:

Progressive (of course)

Most who apply the term progressive to this style of rock mean that it is musically creative and experimental and that it moved rock forward into new, unexplored areas. One of the main ways in which it was progressive was in its blend or fusion of various types of music and instrumentation.

Fusion

Progressive rock is a fusion of rock with outside influences, particularly classical music, jazz, and blues. In some cases prog rock artists were trained in classical or jazz music and in others they simply appreciated such music and developed interesting ways of incorporating the styles, tempos and overall feel of classical and jazz with a rock twist.

Often this also meant the incorporation of musical instruments beyond the typical rock guitar-bass-drum combo, and sometimes full orchestras were used. The organ and synthesized equivalents were central for several progressive rock bands, including the Moody Blues and Yes. This fusion of influences resulted in quite sophisticated musical structures. Complicated time-changes are especially common.

Thematic

Progressive rock is thematic in at least two ways.

On the one hand, frequently an entire album is (or several albums are) united, in terms of lyrics and music, by a common theme, sometimes known as a “concept album”. The Moody Blues’ groundbreaking Days of Future Past (1967), for instance, was based on an idea for a stage show about one man’s entire day from morning to night. Several Genesis albums of the Gabriel era harken back to idealistic, pastoral images of medieval England, for instance. And numerous Yes albums orbit around an astral fantasy world. Many other progressive rock albums have a fantasy world as the setting for a story they tell.

On the other hand, prog rock is also thematic in that there are variations on a musical theme. As in classical and jazz music, a particular simple tune or chord progression that appears early in a song or album echoes in subsequent sections or tracks with more sophisticated musicality. Genesis’ A Trick of the Tail, for instance, begins and ends with the same basic tune which is also echoed in more subtle ways in various other tracks.

Quite often a prog rock song will be rather lengthy (say 10 minutes or more) with multiple parts and a dramatic build both within that track and throughout the album as a whole. Songs often blend into one another (rather than having those few seconds of silence between tracks–this did not make it particularly radio-friendly). These qualities often go along with the story-telling and theme-building aspects of the music.

That will do for now, and I can always supplement this in the future. In the mean time, please feel free to post your own comments or questions on what is progressive rock.

I was browsing through the overload bins at the local record store and came across an intriguing cover with a lone, long-haired guitarist amidst a sea of dried mud. This image caught my attention and I began to wonder whether it was worth spending the .10 to experiment with this one–of course it was!

Shawn Phillips, who to me was an unknown when I picked up the album, was a platinum selling artist with this album in 1970. After looking him up on google, I now see that he continues to produce records alongside his full-time career as a fireman (Wikipedia article here, official website here). Phillips grew frustrated with record companies in the early 70s and decided to do something else with the majority of his time, despite his clear musical talent. The Wikipedia article also notes that he was originally cast as the main lead in Jesus Christ Superstar, but could not fill this role due to touring at the time.

Second Contribution (©1970 Dick James Music Limited) is a very well structured and performed piece, blending a variety of genres of music from basic folk to rock, blues and a little bit of jazz. There is a sense in which one could choose to categorize it as “progressive rock”. Phillip’s vocal range is also notable.

The opening piece (“She was waitin’ for her mother at the station in Torino and you know I love you baby but it’s getting too heavy to laugh“–his song titles can go on) which blends into the second (“Keep on”) illustrates the more full-blown blend of folk rock and orchestral arrangements that characterize a couple of tracks on the album. But I do not find this overdone. There is still a good balance in the music and we do not hear the “wall of sound” that was characteristic of Spector’s orchestral overdubs, for instance. The song builds in a slow yet sure way to its climax when it promptly transitions to the next track (when “Mama, I’m coming home” begins–here I have faded out the song shortly after this transition).

Listen while you read: The ballad of Casey Deiss (audio snippet)

There are also very subtle folk pieces such as “The ballad of Casey Deiss” which incorporates a progression of instruments, one by one (flute, bass, cello, vibraphone–it seems), alongside Phillips and his acoustic guitar. There is an overall calming, medieval atmosphere to the piece and Phillips’ vocals are permitted to stand out. Other pieces on the album further confirm Phillip’s creativity and musical intuition. The album as a whole, with its tracks blending together, has a coherency that is not often found in albums today, notwithstanding the likes of Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible.

I highly recommend this forgotten (to me at least) album.

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