R.J. Stowell's Blog: rjsomeone, page 23

The Canterbury Scene

Yesterday I posted my ten favorite progressive rock LPs. It was indeed predictable. No matter what direction one veers, Close to the Edgehas to be there and something from Genesis, Gentle Giant, Camel, Tull, King Crimson et al, and there was plenty of fuss over which was better, Selling England By the Pound (my choice) or Trespass, Octopus or Three Friends. Because the monsters are monsters, we often lose track of what’s not as obvious.
Luckily, we categorize things to death and today I’ll redeem myself by posting about the Canterbury Scene. The What? Canterbury, the Cathedral City, bored us all to death in high school when we read Chaucer (little did we know how filthy is was), but today, like they do with the Beatles in Liverpool and London, or with the Smiths in Manchester, music geeks are known to take a pilgrimage to Canterbury, not to replicate the Miller’s Tale, but to see those sites of the "Canterbury Scene."
Some call it Canterbury Progressive Rock, but it lends itself so much to Fusion that I think "scene" is a better word. Of whom are we talking? Not really a long list, so I’ll name all that I can think of: Soft Machine, Caravan, National Health (too obscure for me), Gong, Hatfield and the North, and Khan.
There is quite a bit of inbreeding, if you will. From 1963 to 1969, the Wilde Flowers (Robert Wyatt, Kevin Ayers, Hugh Hopper, Pye Hastings, David Sinclair, Richard Sinclair and Richard Coughlan), a ramshackle troupe of Canterbury teens playing a mix of pop and R'n'B, and who shared a love of jazz, evolved with the addition of Aussie, Daevid Allen, (visiting Robert Wyatt at his parent's home), into The Soft Machine (Allen, Wyatt, Ayers, Hopper) and Caravan (Hastings, the Sinclairs and Coughlin).
I think my top ten list is fair, but in retrospect, I might exchange Gong for Alan Parsons or Caravan for Renaissance – now I'm on the fence. But here I'll gush about two of my favorite LPs and hopefully inspire those of you haven’t heard them to notice; it’s the least I can do since I failed to expand anyone’s horizons with my prog faves:
Caravan, In the Land of Gray and Pink. Caravan turned in their best effort with 1971's In the Land of Grey and Pink, with its insistent grooves, tongue-in-cheek lyrics in a uniquely English bent, and Richard Sinclair's expansive, jazzy organ solos. This album largely set the template for the Canterbury School of Rock. On this LP, Caravan mixed pastoral folky whimsy with Cat City jazziness and as a result achieved a sound that is somehow unique and familiar at the same time. If there ever was an album that sounded exactly like its cover - this is the one.  
Hatfield of the North, Self Titled. A foundational Canterbury Scene album, and the one that I recommend most. Sophisticated songwriting that isn't complex for the sake of showing off. A casual two-part suite full of brilliant pop melodies and the longer jazz-fusion compositions. Never boring, carefully recorded, and all the while establishing the inimitable "Hatfield Style." Features crazy badass drumming throughout and scratch your head lyrics (but Yes fans are used to that), and of course, there's the Genius-in-Residence David Stewart's epic "Son of 'There's No Place Like Homerton,'" which is among the greatest unnoticed works a rock band ever laid to vinyl.
(The Soft Machine, by the way, you're going to have to discover on your own. Third, their most notable LP is difficult in the way that Trout Mask Replica is difficult. It may take years. It should probably come with an accessibility instruction manual.)

Top Ten Progressive Rock LPs - The Predictable List

We can easily trace progressive rock back 50 years and its catalyst was far earlier. The Canterbury Scene, for instance, can trace its roots all the way back to 1963, pre-Psychedelia. Most rock historians will go back to the bands that served as the precursors to Yes or ELP (Tomorrow, The Nice) in the late 60s. Recently on our FB page, the question arose regarding our top ten progressive rock LPs, so here goes...

The most informative musical era for me growing up was 1972 through 1976, High School. For the most part, that encompassed progressive rock, which by '73 had peaked, with a smattering of The Who (Quadrophenia) Zeppelin (particularly Houses of the Holy) and Bowie (Aladdin Sane and Diamond Dogs). But mostly for me, it was all about Yes and Genesis, Gentle Giant and Amon Düül II. Utilizing a jaded rubric that only allows for one record per band, here are my favorite classic-era progressive rock LPs. There is something glaringly obvious about the list: there is no such thing as American progressive rock (and don’t say Styx or I’ll have one of those little throw-ups in my mouth). And my choices were as predictable as expected.
Now, for those of you determined to stick up for American progressive rock and scream “Zappa” at the top of your lungs – I rescind my statement, but Zappa is in a category all its/his own. And let me add that American psychedelia far overshadows what the British were doing. In a way, prog was a construct of psychedelia owing much to the Beatles and the American psychedelic scene, but it is British by default.




Those codicils and disclaimers out of the way, here is my list. 10 – 1. And again, it’s quite predictable. Later in the week we'll explore some of the offshoots of the movement and a bevy of less predictable titles.
10.  Camel – The Snow Goose. Simply a beautifully accomplished instrumental LP , the music is deceivingly light and airy with some of the most precise guitar work on record. There’s an obvious Floyd feel to it – much of the headier parts sound like Echoes outtakes, but it’s lovely on its surface, but like the story from which it comes, it’s all between the lines.9. Jethro Tull – Thick as a Brick. While it’s hard for me not to choose Aqualung or even A Passion Play, which is more cohesively conceptual, this is the classic Tull LP and ultimately listenable in its entirety. The concept piece, about a lurid poem written by a young boy named Gerald Bostock is balanced and quirky and plays like an off-centered Harry Potter construct. Here lies incredible musicianship and of course the centerpiece is Anderson’s flute and his Dickensian delivery. The cover folds out into a daily newspaper with clues to the hidden meanings, which Anderson says don’t exist, that it is all a ruse. This selection, alongside Selling Englandand Octopus show just how British prog is.8. ELP - Trilogy – Gorgeous Lake vocals and a production that is far less bombastic than Brain Salad Surgery.7. Alan Parsons Project – Tales of Mystery and Imagination– When production tops everything else, that’s the calling card of Alan Parsons. Texture upon texture. This is a pop/classical LP for sure, but brilliant and still as listenable today as in 1975.6. Renaissance – Scheherazade – The most unusual and underrated of the bunch. Beautiful vocals of Annie Haslam, sprawling imagery and a mastery of progressive balladry. It’s like prog minuet.5. Dark Side of the Moon – Do I have to say anything at all?4. Gentle Giant – Octopus - Octopus is complex and offbeat, but the ensemble musicianship has few peers.  There are elements of jazz and folk, and the mixed vocals give the whole album a kind of whimsical feel, from madrigals to loves sonnets.  “Knots” with its staccato a cappella harmonies and xylophone is a highlight, if less accessible, alongside “Panurge,” the comedy of “A Dog’s Life” and the lovely and sad, “Think of Me With Kindness.”3. King Crimson - In the Court of the Crimson King – The progenitor of them all. This is where, in 1968, it all began. Fripp leads an incredible cast that is lyrically blessed by Pete Sinfield and vocalized by Greg Lake. There are flaws that can be forgiven based on the myriad of firsts and the notion that rock music was about quality musicianship.2. Selling England By the Pound – Gabriel and the band at their finest. Gabriel usurped leadership, but each of the members could claim equal musicianship. Sometimes it's about Gabriel, sometimes about Hackett, etc., but the whole is what makes this number 2 on the list. And not enough is ever said about Collins’ jazz drum take.1. Close to the Edge – I published a post on the LP's virtues in the past. This is one that takes nothing but a listen to fall under its spell.
The big question from some of you is, if Dark Side of the Moon is your favorite LP of all time, how can it be No. 5 on your prog list? It’s the standout LP even amongst this bunch, but it is only minimally prog, and so in the grand scheme of things, it ranks 5th.
Others that didn’t quite make the list include ELO’s prog-pop Eldorado, Amon Duul II’s Yeti, which is far ahead of its time, The Soft Machine’s Third, which like the Mahavishnu Orchestra is more fusion than prog, Rick Wakeman’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth, Anthony Phillips’ The Geese and the Ghost, Steve Hackett’s Voyage of the Acolyte and a myriad of LPs from bands already on the list such as ELP’s Tarkus and Brain Salad Surgery,Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here and Animals, King Crimson’s Poseidon, and Lark’s Tongue in Aspic, and Yes’s Fragile, Relayer, and Tales From Topographic Oceans.

Please Buy This Book - Calif.

Hi Folks! You're here at AM because you love rock 'n' roll. In a time of turmoil and division, music is one of those cures that allow us to talk again. At AM, we're not about politics; there are enough websites and radio shows to do that - we're all about what we share, the music.

AM is supported by your readership and the sales of R.J. Stowell's rock-filled novels, Miles From Nowhere, and the recently released Calif.

With each page of Calif. you'll discover the world of rock 50 years ago. If you were there, you get to relive it. If you weren't, you get the experience for the first time. It's a win-win situation.



Calif., the standalone sequel to Miles From Nowhere is now available on Amazon for just $9.99 and also available for your Kindle at $4.99.

And remember, you can read Calif. FREE on your Kindle with Kindle Unlimited, which is free for the first month. Read all your faves, from Lord of the Rings to Jane Austen to Harry Potter for just a small fee per month.

In Miles From Nowhere, our hero takes a 3000-mile trek across 60's America to see his idol, Jimi Hendrix, at Woodstock. His poor health and America do nothing but get in the way. In Calif., Miles is back, alive and kicking, but it wasn't easy. Here you'll find the rest of Miles' story.

Get your signed copy for just $15.00 including shipping by sending us an email at rjsomeone@gmail.com.

Or click here for Amazon.

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Calif. - Miles is Back

The standalone sequel to Miles From Nowhere is now available on Amazon for just $9.99 and also available for your Kindle at $4.99.

And remember, you can read it FREE on your Kindle with Kindle Unlimited, which is free for the first month. Read all your faves, from Lord of the Rings to Jane Austen to Harry Potter for just a small fee per month.

In Miles From Nowhere, our hero takes a 3000-mile trek across 60's America to see his idol, Jimi Hendrix, at Woodstock. His poor health and America do nothing but get in the way. In Calif., Miles is back, alive and kicking, but it wasn't easy. Here is the rest of Miles' story.

Get your signed copy for just $15.00 including shipping by sending us an email at rjsomeone@gmail.com.

Or click here for Amazon.

Boss Radio - 93KHJ

It was 50 years ago that Casey Kasem debuted his “American Top 40,” the first national broadcast of top pop radio. It was a national obsession that lasted with Kasem as host until August 1988 (it still runs today with Ryan Seacrest). But for those of us in L.A. who go back a little further, there was a little handout you got each week from the record store (in my case, Licorice Pizza) – The 93KHJ Boss 30. In the car, we were forced to listen to “beautiful music” on KGIL, from “People” by Barbra Streisand to Johnny Mathis’ “Chances Are,” but when my brother and I got home, it was all about 93KHJ (and occasionally KRLA).

Hit radio in the 50s and early 60s meant as many commercials as singles. That’s when, circa 1965, Bill Drake and Gene Chenault whittled the rotation down to 30 songs with fewer commercials, short jingles and the “Boss Jocks,” disk jockeys like The Real Don Steele and Robert W. Morgan. On July 9, 1965, 55 years ago, the KHJ Boss 30 was born. That first survey, pictured, featured Sam Riddle on the front with the Stones’ “Satisfaction” in the No. 1 spot. Other hits at the top included Mel Carter’s “Hold Me, Kiss Me, Thrill Me,” Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe” and Tom Jones’ “What’s New Pussycat.” I had that 45 and can still see the Parrot label spinning on my RCA 45 player.
In 1970, Casey Kasem would pretty much take over the airwaves as AM radio was coming to its musical demise, but KHJ carried on and at year’s end would summarize the songs on the surveys. While Billboard charts “Bridge Over Troubled Water” as the top hit of the year, American “Number Ones” were subjective and in addition to sales, also included local requests and the number of times a single was played. A single at the top in L.A. might be marginal in another city. For KHJ’s Boss 30, the No. 1 hit of the year was the Jackson 5’s third No. 1 that year, “I’ll Be There,” followed by “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” by B.J. Stevens (from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) and “Spill the Wine” from Eric Burdon and War. The Beatles last No 1, “The Long and Winding Road,” would be there as well, just topping George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord.”
The diversity on the KHJ Boss 30 was extraordinary: from The Carpenters to Led Zeppelin, the AM format was all-inclusive. By the way, if you wanted to make a playlist, you got your reel to reel, put the mic up to the speaker and hit record. Of course, the DJ would cut the song off before it finished and still be talking when the next hit started. Remember your first mixed tape? My brother’s was on reel to reel, but I was younger and had my cassettes, ahh technology.

Calif. - 50 Years Ago

While reading Calif., the reader is virtually transported to 1970. Through the setting and the visuals, the artists and the narration, we are whisked to a scene 50 years ago to the day. And so it is that on June 15, 1970, "in walked Neil Young." Miles has taken a job at a rock club up the coast – let’s listen in…
As I left the office, in walked Neil Young. He was somewhat imposing, kind of big, like a farmhand; like they grew them up big in Canada where there was lots of elbow room. He had a well-worn white shirt like you’d wear with a tuxedo, flared jeans and chukka boots. He sat on the couch and the fella with him plugged an acoustic guitar into an amplifier. He strummed it a couple times and handed it to Neil. Both of them said “Hey” to me, which was kind of nice.I found myself a table on the side and by showtime the place was packed. It was an intimate affair with Neil mostly at the piano. He did “Cinnamon Girl,” of course, and “Down by the River.” He sang “Tell Me Why” and a song called “Expecting to Fly,” and it was like we were all just hanging out. He did a new number that he said would be on the next album. It had some spacy, otherworldly lyrics interspersed with a romantic medieval vibe. It was called “After the Gold Rush.” He sang, “There was a band playing in my head, and I felt like getting high.” I looked at the girl across from me. She caught my eye and nodded as she bobbed her head to the beat, like everyone in the room was on the same wavelength. “Look at mother nature on the run in the nineteen-seventies,” he sang. You could have heard a pin drop.When the show was over, I found Mr. Chadwick. He asked how I liked it. I didn’t tell him that I could have cried, like it was the best homily I’d ever heard. As I said, you have to suck in the truth sometimes.I emptied ashtrays, filled the cigarette machine, washed glasses behind the bar, picked up empty beer bottles and put all the chairs upside down on the tables. There was lots of banter and Mr. Chadwick always had something sarcastic to say. He was pretty funny. Neil Young walked out the front door, and said “Later, kid,” as he passed. At the end of the night, it was about 2:30, Mr. Chadwick handed me a ten and a couple singles. It was a good day’s work. Dawned on me I’d never worked a day in my life.
Don't miss out on the magic. Calif. is available now on Amazon.

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Cat Stevens and Me – 1970

With the reimagined version on the horizon of one of my favorite LPs, Tea For the Tillerman, I’ve been playing a lot of Cat Stevens lately. With that, I thought I’d share a passage about a time 50 years ago – doesn’t seem possible, it could have been yesterday…
I saw her again last night. She came to the club to see a singer who is hard to describe, the name of Cat Stevens. It wasn’t folk and it wasn’t rock, but the lyrics were poignant and beautiful. His voice was frightening, filled with a deep vibrato, and he pounded away on the guitar like his hands would bleed.
He did a song called “Katmandu.” It was mystical. A song from the woods, like a madrigal. A girl played the flute. I loved it. It was distracting. I found frivolous jobs to do so that I could listen.
He played a song about a father and a son; a conversation on a million levels. It was about how relationships are difficult and often impossible. Chadwick caught me watching. He knew my story. He said, “I’m gonna dock your pay, man, but you go watch.” He didn’t dock my pay.
Riley came in the back after the show. She wanted to meet Cat. I didn’t know him, but I said I’d introduce her. It was odd, he had an entourage around him and an odd celebrity pervaded the room. We waited in line to meet him as if he were holy or something, but he was gracious and met us with intent, like he wanted to meet us. He gripped our hands and looked into our eyes for what seemed an eternity. I think it scored some major brownie points on my behalf.
At the end of the evening, it was the same tête-à-tête. She said, “I gotta go.” She looked lovely, all fresh-faced with pink lipstick; she wasn’t a folkie in the typical sense, she was girlie and pretty and although she was a radical woman, her femininity was her superpower; Wonder Woman-strong, but soft, smelling of talc and patchouli.
On my walk home that night, all I could think of was that song about father and son. I could hear Cat’s impossible voice in my head, so stark and beautiful. I kept thinking about the dialogue. I had a knack for remembering lyrics and these just kept repeating in my head. “Find a girl, settle down.” I think my father said the same to me, I was young; he said: “Someday you’ll find a girl.”
“Like Mommy,” I said, that’s how young I was.
“And you’ll get married and buy a house.” A car passed with its brights on, then turned them down. I walked along the camp road. All the families were asleep. The father in the song carried on in my head. It was heartbreaking.
From the novel Calif. - Available now on Amazon (see the link in the sidebar) OR get your signed, personalized copy by sending an email to rjsomeone@gmail.com. $15 incl. shipping.

Cat Stevens

Cat Stevens is one of those AM artists whose core work is the part of a canon that we embrace the way scholars embrace Joyce. That core doesn’t include the 1967 debut, Matthew and Son (nor the follow up New Masters), yet one can easily find the connection, the origins of the species, so to speak. The material on both LPs, despite hits like the Matthew and Son title track and "The First Cut is the Deepest," bear little resemblance to the core albums (which begin with Mona Bone Jakon– a pet name for Cat’s penis – and end effectively with Buddha and the Chocoate Box).
The songs from Matthew and Son are produced in a style typical of Brit Pop/Psychedelia in the late 60s and a reminder of how important the Beatles' move away from the genre was to the rock era. Though not a part of the Canon, Matthew and Son is an essential LP for the completist (New Masters is not). Five tracks in and you're convinced you've found the next AM10; five tracks later, eh, the next Donovan evaporates.
Still, the problems begin with the title track. It's such a perfect pop confection, along the lines of "Walk Away Renee," that expectations are raised to skyscraper proportions. It's followed by "I Love My Dog;" okay, it may be an inconsequential piece of fluff, but it has an irresistible jerky beat that's impossible to ignore (or stop singing). Then it's "Here Comes My Baby" which, until I looked at the label, I was convinced was a cover. It sounds akin to everything Phil Spector was churning out with the Wall Of Sound and was later a top five British hit single for The Tremeloes. It's followed by the first of two songs that jar against Stevens' later adopted Muslim beliefs. I'm pretty sure "Bring Another Bottle Baby" won't feature in his current live itinerary, but it's got a great lounge-swing feel to it. The fifth and last song in this superb opening quintet is "Portobello Road," which lies somewhere between "Penny Lane" and "Dedicated Follower Of Fashion," and has its feet planted firmly in the burgeoning hippy culture of the mid-sixties. At that point, were you to walk out of the room, you'd never know how quickly the LP unravels. Unlistenable? No, but it's like the Pink Floyd singles tracks you get with Meddle and Atom Heart Mother: once again, eh.
The canon begins, though, three years later, following a period of serious illness for Cat, with Mona Bone Jakon, my new favorite Cat LP and for two reasons: first, none of the songs on it has been played to death (in fact, the most likely candidate, "Lady D'Arbanville", an excellent track, was apparently such a minor hit that it didn't even show up on Stevens' Greatest Hits compilation), and second, it's an album that I associate most closely with the Harold and Maude soundtrack, which I'd put out of mind but then rediscovered the other night on a whim. The soundtrack includes several songs from the LP, specifically "I Think I See the Light", "Trouble" and "I Wish, I Wish." ("Don't Be Shy" has never been released on any of his albums.) "Trouble" also has the distinction of appearing in the perhaps most touching scene of the film.
Overall, Mona Bone Jakon is a demonstration of Stevens' talent for great songwriting removed from soupy arrangements or concessions to the demands of commercial pop songs. It's a bare-bones LP with guitar and piano and one incredible flute part compliments of Peter Gabriel ("Katmandu"). It's more of a singer-songwriter album than any of his other records, which may be because it never got as much exposure, or because it was produced in such a subdued manner that it wouldn't get much exposure. Even though not all songs are equally strong, the LP contains no filler. Mona Bone Jakon was like Cat's Jekyll and Hyde moment, and, the way little boys always like Indians better than cowboys, the listener is graced with a far more intriguing Hyde than the Jekyll found in the first two LPs.

Yusuf / Cat Stevens - Where Do The Children Play?

Cat Stevens (Steven Demetre Georgiou - Yusuf) came straight out of the gate as a teen with the LP Matthew and Son, which included three hit singles in the U.K. His second LP didn’t fare as well but did contain “The First Cut is the Deepest,” which made it to No. 1 for Rod Stewart later in the year and was also covered by PP Arnold and Cheryl Crow. At this time, in 1969, Cat was suffering from tuberculosis.
After his recovery in early 1970 came a far different LP, one of complexity and maturity, despite its title (you’ll have to look that one up), and an LP that even Cat fans may never have heard, but should – Mona Bone Jakon. Many think of it critically as the first of his most intricate and iconic works and as a part of a trilogy which includes Tea For the Tillerman and Teaser and the Firecat. (In many ways, Mona Bone Jakon reminds me of Jack’s Mannequin’s Everything in Transit and The Glass Passenger LPs which foreshadow and chronicle the catastrophic illness of Andrew McMahon.)
The LP, like the two that follow, is good from first to last with the stellar “Lady D’Arbanville” and “Katmandu” each highlighting their perspective sides. The former is about Andy Warhol actress Patti D’Arbanville, Cat’s girlfriend, and pulls off a madrigal sound that bands like Jethro Tull, Gentle Giant, and even Seals and Crofts would gravitate toward over the coming years. “Katmandu” features Peter Gabriel, then of Genesis, playing the flute. While the LP did not chart strongly, three of the songs, “Trouble,” “I Wish, I Wish,” and “I Think I See the Light” support the soundtrack for Harold and Maude.
Less than six months later, Stevens would release my favorite CS LP, Tea For The Tillerman with its hits “Where Do the Children Play” and “Wild World,” and the incomparable “Father and Son.” For the 50th anniversary of this LP, Cat has released Tea For the Tillerman 2, a reimagined version of the LP. Still as good as it was half a century ago.

78s

The LP – Long Player – format was developed by Columbia Records in 1949 to replace 78s. RCA was quick with a response and in 1950 started promoting the 45. While the number of revolutions was arbitrary for the most part, RCA came up with 45 by subtracting 33 from 78. (Just some useless trivia.) The 78 format was quickly replaced but still had some legs; keep in mind that 78s had been around since 1890. Companies continued to release 78s, and in some countries, India for instance, even several Beatles singles were released in the old format (fetching thousands of dollars today).As a child of the 60s, 78s remained common as a format for young people. Commonly, 7-inch 78s were specifically produced for kids on yellow vinyl.While I’ve collected LPs since my first in 1967 – The Wondrous World of Sonny and Cher – and still collect them today, 45s as well, I've only recently (well, just the other day) developed an interest in 78s. Long ago I got my one and only 78 – The Raymond Scott Quintet. The old shellac record on the Brunswick label is one familiar to any fan of Porky Pig. In an episode in which Porky has a chicken farm, the song "Powerhouse" plays during Porky's automated egg-laying procedure.Using a Jedi Mind Trick, which is all it requires these days to get Amazon to drop something on one's porch, I got and have now restored, a 1942 children’s acoustic record played from the Spear Company. While the turntable is motorized, the sound emanating from the record is amplified only through the acoustic diaphragm that you see in the video. It sounds terrible, which is exactly what you’d expect, and therefore perfect. You have to constantly change the needle, and I don’t yet have the appropriate type, so the sound quality is worse than it could be, still I thought I'd share this blast from the past.
Here on AM we focus on rock music, particularly from 1966 as the turning point when rock 'n' roll became rock, but we still relish in the music of the 50s, from Elvis to Sinatra and we're not too timid to tackle jazz or fusion or country. I've often posted articles about record collecting and, as a collector these past 53 years (!), I think I can consider myself a bit of an expert, but 78s, their value, their history, even what they're made out of, is sketchy for me at best. My new toy is but a means for me to expand my horizons and learn a bit more.