Category Archives: Prog
Book Review: Genesis (Song By Song) by Philipp Rottgers
Despite the twin threats of streaming and AI, it’s gratifying to see that there seems to be an increasing appetite for indepth writing about the good old long player.
This is especially true if you’re into the rich catalogues of the great artists from the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s.
Fonthill Media have put together the latest (hardback) series of ‘song by song’ studies, covering similar territory to Sonicbond’s ‘on track’ series.
Author Philipp Rottgers (he’s also a historian and drummer with the band PARIAHLORD) now enters the fray with an enjoyable new study of pop/prog behemoths Genesis.
The book offers entries on every single song they ever recorded, plus sections on tours, album artwork and contemporaneous critical reactions. There’s also an impressive selection of colour photos, including singles covers new to this writer. There’s no index but an extensive reference section and long bibliography.
Genesis provides an interesting challenge for the discerning author, with such a weighty catalogue and two distinct eras. Rottgers preference seems to be for the 1975-1992 period, when Phil Collins fronted the band.
But the book still offers lots of tasty morsels regarding the band’s earlier Peter Gabriel period. For example, it’s interesting to note that the live debut of ‘Supper’s Ready’ took place at Brunel University, Uxbridge, on 10 November 1972 (one wonders if It Bites knew about this when they played a fantastic 16-minute version of ‘Once Around The World’ at the venue in February 1988).
And Rottgers reveals that Noel Gallagher of all people was influenced by an early track called ‘The Conqueror’.
We skim through the band members’ early biographies pretty quickly (weirdly Rottgers neglects to mention the location of each founding members’ birth) and learn a lot about the patronage and early promotion of impresario/songwriter Jonathan King (whose subsequent ‘dodgy’ dealings are skirted over completely, probably for good reason…).
There’s some great stuff about Collins’ audition for the band, though it would have been nice to know what they played on that Surrey afternoon. There are fascinating muso details about the middle period, like the fact that Banks, Rutherford and Collins were each given a CR-78 drum machine during the Japanese tour of 1978 as gifts from manufacturers Roland, and it became a key sound of the Duke album (and Collins’ Face Value).
There are some superb tidbits about the band’s mid-1980s commercial peak – the analysis of ‘Land Of Confusion’ is particularly detailed – and Rottgers reminds us that the band did a remarkable FOUR nights at Wembley Stadium in 1987.
The final chapter impressively reviews the farewell 2022 concerts in full and also explains the legacy of the band and also the contributions that Banks, Collins and Rutherford made to their instruments and songwriting in general.
Whilst ‘Genesis: Song By Song’ is a huge achievement and obviously a labour of love for Rottgers, there are some strange omissions. He generally eschews musical analysis, surprising given Genesis are famed for their top-notch playing.
And fans of the early work may occasionally scratch their heads at the lack of space given to important, complex early pieces like ‘Mad Man Moon’ and ‘Can Utility & The Coastliners – both only get three lines each! And some Lamb Lies Down tracks also get short shrift.
But all in all, this is an enjoyable and worthwhile book, doing a good job of taking one back to the music afresh. Looking forward to Rottgers’ upcoming book on Collins.
It Bites: The Big Lad In The Windmill 40 Years Old Today
Francis Dunnery: new album/tour/YouTube series
He’s one of the finest guitarists this country has ever produced and, since leaving pop/prog titans It Bites in 1991, somewhat of a moving target: astrologer, solo artist, sessionman (Robert Plant, Santana, Ian Brown, Lauryn Hill), giver of house concerts, radio presenter.
Francis Dunnery’s also regularly toured the UK over the last ten years or so, mainly putting bands together to play the music of It Bites.
But now he’s announced a new album and rare solo tour, including a gig at London’s Riverside Studios, featuring just a guitar, a mic and lots of stories. The album and tour are called England’s Tales Of The Council House Kid.
In Francis’s words: ‘This record is deeply personal to me. It’s a collection of songs rooted in where I started—growing up in an England council house—and the journey those rooms eventually led me on. It’s about that grit, that upbringing, and finally bringing these stories to life in the studio.’ The album also features Todd Edwards on piano, Kate Ronconi on fiddle and Paul Brown on bass.
Francis has also just announced a new series on his YouTube channel where he will dish the dirt on all of his past musical projects. The first videos are about working with Robert Plant and auditioning for Genesis. Further clips about It Bites are promised in the future.
1980s Rock/Pop Acts I Should Like But Don’t
Everyone knows a few: those acts that got great reviews, named some of your favourite bands as influences and sold a few records in the process, but there was just something about their music that you couldn’t hack.
Maybe it was their vocals, their outlook, their politics, their songwriting, or a mixture of all four.
Well I know some too. Here’s a totally subjective, wildly judgemental – no offence intended – list of 1980s pop and rock artists who leave me cold, despite most being critical and commercial successes. Believe me, I’ve tried. Like they could care less…
King’s X
My muso mates waxed lyrical about their tricky riffs and tight musicianship but I’ve never got beyond the guy’s not very good singing, their weirdly unmemorable songs and rather naff pomp-rock tendencies.
World Party
Perpetually spoken about in hushed tones of reverence when I was at college but their music singularly failed to grab, despite the Beatles/XTC/Prince influences, possibly due to Karl Wallinger’s rather wimpy voice. See also: Crowded House, REM, Waterboys
The Blow Monkeys
Somehow got filed under the ‘sophistipop’ banner courtesy of their flirtation with ‘slinky’ grooves and soul influences, but for me Dr Robert’s absurd voice and the lack of songwriting imagination never got them past first base. See also: Kane Gang, Simply Red, Johnny Hates Jazz, Black, The Big Dish.
Marillion
Decade-ending Season’s End had some brilliant moments but for me most of the Fish era was a succession of quite badly-played/badly-sung rip-offs of Gabriel-era Genesis. It Bites did it better and added some much-needed pizzazz and groove. See also: IQ, Jadis, Tony Banks/Chris Squire/Mike Rutherford solo albums…
Deacon Blue
I liked the soppier/poppier elements of their debut album Raintown but the game was up when the truly irritating ‘Wages Day’ and ‘Real Gone Kid’ swept the airwaves at the end of the decade. They took Prefab Sprout’s basic concept to the bank whilst shaving off the weird edges.
Paul McCartney
Sheer melodic brilliance time and time again of course, but for me his 1980s work generally flatters to deceive, outside of a few random favourites (‘Pipes Of Peace’, ‘Once Upon A Long Ago’). Yes, even the album he did with Elvis Costello (of whom more below…).
The Style Council
Only a musical moron would deny the power of ‘You’re The Best Thing’ and ‘Walls Come Tumbling Down’ and you have to admire Paul Weller’s songcraft, politics, guitar playing and ability to laugh at himself, but generally it was hard to shake off the naffness. Mick Talbot must take a lot of the blame…
Mick Jagger
He employed some of my favourite producers and musicians (Jeff Beck, Sakamoto, Bill Laswell, Herbie Hancock, Doug Wimbish, Simon Phillips etc. etc.) but failed to produce even one memorable or interesting single or album track during the 1980s. See also: Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, Nick Heyward, Jerry Harrison
Pages
This yacht rock supergroup had a great singer (Richard Page) and sh*t-hot musicians (Vinnie Colaiuta, Jay Graydon, Jeff Porcaro, Steve Lukather etc.) but the songs weren’t strong or memorable enough. See also: most of Toto, Mr Mister
Elvis Costello
Weirdly his ‘Less Than Zero’ was one of the first singles I loved as a kid, but his desperation to be a serious ’80s ‘artist’ fell on deaf ears despite the fact that he obviously knew a lot of chords and retained some of that new-wave angst (but even I couldn’t resist his fine run of 1990s form, from the superb ‘London’s Brilliant Parade’ to Bacharach). See also: The Cars, The The, Squeeze.
Van Morrison
To my ears his 1980s music is like Joni Mitchell and John Martyn without the melodic/harmonic/lyrical depth, apart from the sublime ‘Rave On John Donne’. People tell me he always uses great bands though, but they often barely register…
Todd Rundgren
I’m more of a fan of his 1980s producing work (Pursuit Of Happiness, XTC etc) than his solo music. Never bought into this whole ‘he’s a genius’ thing, save the wonderful ‘The Verb To Love’ – but that’s from the 1970s, innit…? See also: Lenny Kravitz.
Depeche Mode
Yes they’ve got a few pop hooks, the Mute Records cred and ‘edgy’ image but never been able to shake off an ineffable naffness for me. And despite being ‘synth pioneers’, they didn’t seem to push the sonic envelope much in the 1980s at all. ‘Everything Counts’ was superb though and I got on board later with Ultra. See also: Kraftwerk, New Musik, Visage, Ultravox, New Order, Howard Jones
Pink Floyd
If you want to put me to sleep, put on any of Pink Floyd’s 1980s work. Bring back Syd. See also: Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd solo projects, except Nick Mason’s Fictitious Sports, which is brilliant…
Bad Brains
Dub/thrash/funk pioneers and a huge influence on bands I really like such as Living Colour, Fishbone and 24-7 Spyz, but their music seems a little amateurish to me and, again, their singer was not blessed with a great set of pipes (unlike the singers of bands above).
Housemartins
Fondly remembered until you actually hear those singles again – ‘Build’, ‘Happy Hour’, ‘Caravan Of Love’. Annoying, a bit puny, and apparently the more irritating side of the C-86 generation.
The Jesus and Mary Chain
Bowie summed them up well for me: ‘I tried the Jesus and Mary Chain but I just couldn’t believe it. It’s awful! It was so sophomoric – like the Velvets without Lou. I just know that they’re kids from Croydon! I just can’t buy it…’
Robert Fripp: Exposure (The Definitive Edition) @ 40
Fripp’s debut solo album, originally recorded at New York’s Hit Factory between January 1978 and January 1979, has endured endless tinkering from the artist including various remixes/reversions.
But his 1985 (or should that be 1983?) remix, carried out at London’s Marcus Studios alongside Brad Davies, is the best.
But calling Fripp completists: is this version of Exposure even available on any format apart from the original cassette? (Thank goodness I still have my copy, signed by Fripp at the Virgin Megastore circa 1988, because I bought the noughties CD version to find that it featured completely different vocal takes, and the current streaming version is just as obtuse…).
The 1985 version of Exposure adds some sonic wallop to the drums, pushes Barry Andrews’ keyboards way back in the mix, comps the best of Daryl Hall and Peter Hammill’s vocals and features arguably Peter Gabriel’s best ever version of ‘Here Comes The Flood’ (with Frippertronics prelude).
It’s also a completely personal album, Fripp’s Face Value, the musings of an uptight Englishman in NYC, a prog/fusion version of ‘Annie Hall’. There are funny vocal interjections/indiscretions from his mother (‘You never remember happy things’), Fripp himself (‘Incredibly dismal, pathetic chord sequence’) and Eno (‘Can I play you some new things that I think could be commercial?’).
Gabriel fluffs the opening of ‘Here Comes The Flood’, Hall layers his vocals in strikingly avant-garde fashion, JG Bennett’s words are often layered in (with permission from his widow), arguments are eavesdropped upon and there are striking ‘audio verite’ sections. And lots of Frippertronics.
Fripp also uses silence to great effect. Don’t play this album too loud. But then there are the gorgeous ballads, ‘North Star’, featuring delightful pedal steel from Sid McGinnis and wonderful Hall vocals, and ‘Mary’, featuring Terre Roche (she also screams away on the cool reversion of Gabriel/Fripp’s title track).
And drummers: you gotta hear this album. Forget Narada Michael Walden’s playing with Weather Report, Jeff Beck, Tommy Bolin and the Mahavishnu Orchestra – this is his most outrageously brilliant drumming on record. Phil Collins plays well too, as do Allan Schwartzberg and Jerry Marotta.
1985 was a good year for Fripp. Alongside this fantastic Exposure remix, he met future wife Toyah, recorded some brilliant stuff with David Sylvian and also set up his ‘study group’ The League Of Crafty Guitarists.
Bill Bruford: The Comeback
Pop musicians make comebacks all the time – in jazz or jazz/rock, it’s almost unheard of.
Reading King Crimson/Yes/Genesis/Earthworks drum legend Bill Bruford’s fine autobiography, there was no doubt he’d had his fill of the music business when he officially retired from performance on 1 January 2009 (his last headlining gig took place the previous July).
Away from the kit, in recent years he’s achieved a PhD from the University of Surrey, curated an excellent YouTube channel and released the occasional reissue or compilation, the latest of which is The Best of Bill Bruford.
But, as they say in sporting circles, you’re a long time retired. So it’s thrilling to report that Bruford is making tentative steps back to public performance – in a recent interview he described his return to playing as ‘explosive, unexpected, and very sudden’.
He turned up at the John Wetton tribute gig last year, performing ‘Let’s Stick Together’ alongside Phil Manzanera and Chris Difford.
Now he’s joined up with his old drum tech, German ex-pat guitarist Pete Roth, plus bassist Mike Pratt, for some low-key trio gigs. His recent show at the 606 was the busiest your correspondent had seen Chelsea’s treasured jazz club for years.
Roth’s website describes his music as ‘jazz without borders’, and it’s a pretty good summary – they generally avoid fusion clichés like the plague, sounding more like John Abercrombie’s organ trio than anything Bruford recorded with Allan Holdsworth.
His kit was a return to his youth – two tom-toms, angled snare, two cymbals. And he still has that prodigious, propulsive technique on the hi-hats and ride cymbal, even if his snare drum no longer particularly has that distinctive ‘clang’.
‘Billie’s Bounce’ featured Bruford’s trademark figures between the tom-toms and snare drum, and Roth’s organ patch and octave pedal were a novel touch.
‘How Insensitive’ developed from a freeform rubato opening into an Abercrombie-esque mood-jazz piece, though Pratt’s strident bass seemed a little out of place.
‘If Summer Had Its Ghosts’, first recorded by Bruford with Eddie Gomez and Ralph Towner, meshed odd-time fun with the blues, Roth’s guitar at its more Scofield-like.
‘Summertime’ came with a tricky vamp which Pratt and Roth rushed somewhat – never a problem for Bruford, while a section from Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 was a slowburn success.
Meanwhile band composition ‘Trio of Five’ (or was it ‘Fun’?) was another attractive if a little harmonically inert, vamp-based piece in their favourite 5/4.
Though there were times when Bruford seems to have lost a little of the fluidity of old, it seems churlish to judge a performance thus when the performer and loyal crowd are having so much fun. What an unexpected pleasure to see Bruford back.
Peter Gabriel: i/o
Despite his reputation as a sonic groundbreaker and technological wiz, Peter Gabriel arguably hasn’t done anything much good on record since 1992, even as his live shows gain popularity.
1986’s So was of course the huge pop breakthrough, and that album has been the template for his subsequent, rather predictable solo career – he generally switches between atmospheric ballads a la ‘Mercy Street’ or ‘Don’t Give Up, ‘dark’, vaguely industrial rock tracks, and ‘funky’ one-chord grooves with poppy hooks and emotional lyrics, typified by ‘Sledgehammer’.
i/o is his first album of new material since 2002 and sadly it cannot reverse the trend, despite Gabriel’s always excellent, ageless vocals. It mostly meanders by in a fog of ugly snare drums, dry guitars and keyboards (some by Eno), digital treatments/loops pitched somewhere around 1998, and not much air at all. It seems the multi-layered triumphs of ‘Lead A Normal Life’ and ‘Family Snapshot’ are long gone.
Elsewhere Tony Levin’s bass and stick parts are prominent but they can’t produce anything as immediate and catchy as ‘Sledgehammer’. ‘Four Kinds Of Horses’ sums up the problem – a fairly uninteresting half-time groove underpins a fairly uninteresting vocal melody, while a rather irritating piano loop burbles away in the background. It never should have left the rehearsal room and many other (mostly overlong) tracks replicate that formula.
But Gabriel does deliver a pretty good, harmonically-rich ballad – ‘Playing For Time’ – which some other reviewers have very generously compared to Randy Newman’s best work. It’s this album’s ‘Washing Of The Water’.
In conclusion, the main problem with i/o is that it sounds exactly like you think it will. Maybe Gabriel is working with the wrong people, maybe the wrong software. Maybe he needs to get back to recording ‘as live’, embedded in a really good five-piece band. Paging Bob Ezrin, Larry Fast, Robert Fripp and/or Hugh Padgham…
(postscript: I’ve recently invested in the definitive 2007 CD remaster of Genesis’s Lamb Lies Down On Broadway – it sounds absolutely fantastic and I feel 18 again…)
Genesis: ‘Mama’ @ 40
If any more proof was needed as to how far the UK pop charts have declined since the mid-1990s, look no further than the fact that Genesis’s ‘Mama’ – released 40 years old this week – was their biggest hit, going all the way to #4.
Not bad for a nearly-seven-minute song without a proper chorus about a young man’s troubled relationship with a sex worker.
In my opinion, ‘Mama’ is one of the great singles of the 1980s, epic and menacing, and the last decent showing for post-Gabriel Genesis (I couldn’t/can’t get anywhere with its attendant 1983 self-titled album, nor any of their subsequent projects).
In autumn 1983, I was vaguely aware of Phil Collins, my ears having been piqued by my dad’s frequent playing of Face Value around the house. But when my uncle bought me the ‘Mama’ 12-inch single, I’m pretty sure I’d never heard of Genesis. But Uncle Jim wrote ‘Side A is the good side!’ on the front for guidance, knowing I’d love Phil’s immense drum sound (to these ears, still just as ‘shocking’ as ‘In The Air Tonight’). For me, this is the apex of Phil’s best era – roughly 1976 to 1983.
The author with his first snare drum, his dad the DJ about to put on ‘Mama’, circa autumn 1983
‘Mama’ was recorded at the band’s Farm studio near Chiddingfold, Surrey, and co-produced by Hugh Padgham. Phil set up in the new drum room modelled on the famous Townhouse Studio 2 in Shepherds Bush.
There are still so many pleasures – Phil’s sibilant, Lennon-influenced vocals (including a homage to Melle Mel), making full use of the slapback echo which went straight onto tape rather than being added later. Banks’s ominous synth layering and wacky lead tones. Mike Rutherford’s Linn drum programming, played through a guitar amp.
Also listen out for the way Phil avoids metal completely until the beginning of the fade, when his enormous crash cymbal is a huge release.
Peter Gabriel: Plays Live 40 Years On
PG’s first live album – released 40 years ago this week – touched down incongruously during 1983’s Summer of Fun, crashing into the UK chart at #9 alongside Let’s Dance and Thriller (but Japan’s posthumous live album Oil On Canvas did even better – it was the week’s highest new entry at #5).
Plays Live was ostensibly recorded during four dates of the American tour in December 1982. Gabriel had taken some choreography lessons and often ventured into the audience for ‘Lay Your Hands On Me’, sometimes ‘falling backwards’ from the stage in the manner of those corporate team-building/trust exercises.
But he was very transparent about there being a lot of ‘cheating’ on this album – many overdubs/vocal corrections were undertaken with the assistance of co-producer Peter Walsh (fresh from Simple Minds’ New Gold Dream) at Gabriel’s Ashcombe House studios near Bath.
Plays Live hangs together very well – it’s immaculately sequenced and you certainly get your money’s worth, clocking in at a shade under 90 minutes. The tracks taken from Peter Gabriel IV AKA Security are a huge improvement on the studio versions. ‘Humdrum’, ‘Not One Of Us’, ‘No Self Control’ and ‘DIY’ are similarly transformed to become radical, vital updates.
There’s even an excellent Melt outtake called ‘I Go Swimming’. And when the band are freed from the sequencers and drum machines, they really sound like a band – check out the ‘floating’ tempos of ‘Humdrum’ and a few other tracks.
Jerry Marotta’s huge drum sound and (quite advanced) used of drum machines were not everyone’s cup of tea – Bill Bruford was still kvetching about it to Modern Drummer magazine during a 1989 interview. Both Marotta and synthesist Larry Fast, a key collaborator, were given the boot by Gabriel at the end of 1983, to much consternation.
My entrée into Plays Live was the (remixed) single release of ‘I Don’t Remember’ courtesy of its video being shown on ‘The Max Headroom Show’ in 1985. Marcello Anciano’s disturbing clip featured nude dancers from the Rational Theatre Company and some figures inspired by the artist/sculptor Malcolm Poynter. It’s hardly surprising that it missed the top 40…
