All posts by Thaddeus Wert

High school math teacher and fan of all kinds of music, but most of all prog.
Republic of Letters

Haunted by No-Man’s Schoolyard Ghosts

Schoolyard Ghosts

Greetings, Spirit of Cecilia music lovers! In this post, Brad Birzer and Tad Wert revisit a classic No-Man album, Schoolyard Ghosts, from 2008.

Tad: Brad, I’m so glad you suggested we discuss this album. I picked it up when it first came out. I had just discovered Steven Wilson’s Porcupine Tree, and I was snapping up anything I could find that he was involved in. No-Man is certainly different from Porcupine Tree, but Wilson and Tim Bowness make beautiful music in their own way.

As I listened to this album once again, I was struck by how calming it is (with the exception of that raucous opening to “Pigeon Drummer”). For me, “Truenorth” is the standout track. When I first got Schoolyard Ghosts, I didn’t take the time to appreciate how great a song it is. It slowly unfolds for nearly 13 minutes, but it never lags. Tim’s vocals are so hushed and warm, while Steven’s acoustic guitar accompaniment is perfect.

Brad: Tad, thanks so much for such a brilliant opening to this dialogue.  I think you nailed it all very perceptively.   And, I’m with you on all of this.  

The best way to describe the music is, as you so aptly put it, “hushed and warm.”  Delicate and lush also come to mind as descriptives as well, though delicate might be taken as derogatory by some readers.  I certainly mean it in only the most positive sense.

This was my first No-man album, and, at the time it came out, I was buying basically everything that the label Kscope was producing.  I had already been a Steven Wilson fan–since 2002–but I’d not delved into No-man for some reason.  Porcupine Tree, yes.  Blackfield, yes.  But, bewilderingly, not No-man.  This, of course, all changed with Schoolyard Ghosts.

Indeed, Schoolyard Ghosts rather blew me away in 2008, and it continues to do so over a decade and a half later.  I never grow tired of this album.  I love the lilt of the instruments, Bowness’s plaintively gorgeous vocals, and the fine production of the music.  I also love the vocal harmonies that Bowness and Wilson create.

I can state now, in 2024, that I’m as much a fan of Tim Bowness as I am of Steven Wilson–which is saying a lot for anyone who knows me.

Since 2008, I’ve pretty much devoured everything that Bowness has written and released.  I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s our generation’s Mark Hollis.  He was definitely influenced by Hollis and Talk Talk.  One can hear it in his phrasing and in his lyrics.  It’s clear that Bowness is in love with words as much as he is with music.  

Bowness also reminds me very much of our own Kevin McCormick.  What an incredible team they would make.

Tad: Yes, Brad, the ghost of Mark Hollis is definitely present here! I find it interesting that Schoolyard Ghosts was your first introduction to No-Man. Mine was 1994’s Flowermouth, which was the only No-Man title available at my local used record store. It’s very poppy – almost like Pet Shop Boys – and as I completed my No-Man collection, it became clear that every album had its own unique identity. Initially, I was disappointed that Bowness and Wilson didn’t sound more like Porcupine Tree, but why should they? Wilson has always been a lover of many different genres, and No-Man was a completely different entity for him than PT. As a matter of fact, No-Man was more popular, sales-wise, than PT, which, at the time, was more of a side project.

Okay! Back to the topic at hand. I’ve been listening to the 5.1 surround mix of Schoolyard Ghosts, and it is really good. There are no obvious “whooshes” from front speakers to back and left to right, but rather various sounds pop up and fade away behind me, like the static that closes out “All Sweet Things”, the steel guitar in “Song of the Surf”, or some gentle beeps in “Streaming”. The percussion in the middle section of “Truenorth” has enhanced echo, which is nice.

Speaking of “Truenorth”, I have to say again that this is a near-perfect song! The 12:48 album version puts the single version to shame. I love the “Sweet surrender to the night” section that closes it out – it brings the song to such a melodically satisfying conclusion. 

The only – literally – jarring song on the album for me is “Pigeon Drummer”. In the right context, I can appreciate raucous dissonance, but “Pigeon Drummer” feels out of place on this album. Based on Wilson’s and Bowness’s delightful podcast, The Album Years, I know they both love avant-garde music and musique concrete. However, I think that song messes with the overall flow of the album. Tell me why I’m wrong, Brad!

Brad:  Tad, I’m really impressed that you go all the way back to 1994’s Flowermouth.  Do you remember how you came to it?  I’d love to read that story.

I don’t want to make too much of the Talk Talk connection, but I really feel that “Pigeon Drummer” is No-man’s take on “Desire” from Spirit of Eden.  In that context, to me at least, the song makes perfect sense as a necessary break in an otherwise very delicate and haunting flow.  It’s intentionally jarring, thus making the rest of the album even more beautiful.  In fact, one of the many things I love about this album is the intensity of the overall flow.

I’m in complete agreement with you regarding “Truenorth.”  It is a stunning piece of music, perhaps perfect, even.  It builds so well.  I must admit, it reminds me of an updated Traffic tune.  Not as jazzy as Traffic, of course, but still in a Steve Winwood/Dave Mason vein.  And, I love the lyrics:

You survived another winter
You survived where nothing grew

The days felt cold and never changing
So you just slept the whole way through

When you think about the future
It’s like the past, but hard and small

An old idea you stole from someone
A borrowed dream that’s born to fall

Take a taxi through the snow
Tell them you love them –
Don’t let go

Through the tunnel moving slow
Tonight’s there’s nowhere
You won’t go

You survived yourself
You survived inside the lost world
The dreams of love

And, to be sure, I really love the lyrics to the opening track, “All Sweet Things”:

The run-down streets, the civil wars
You don’t go there anymore –
It’s how you used to live

The trampled hopes, the made-up laws
The itchy feet, the pub quiz bores –
It’s so hard to forgive

Weekend slimmers count their chains
Still wanting someone else to blame
You watch them come and go

Empty nightclub escapades
They tell you more than words can say –
That open doors get closed

The empty rooms, the empty house
Someday soon, you’ll work it out –
Still finding the way back home

The schoolyard ghosts, the playtime fears
You take your pills, they disappear –
The people that you’ve known

I’m curious who wrote these, Bowness or Wilson.  Either way, they’re fantastic.

Tad: Brad, Flowermouth was my introduction to No-Man, because it was the only No-Man album I could find at the record store, and I couldn’t wait for it to be delivered from an online dealer! 

Thank you for sharing the lyrics to “Truenorth” and “All Sweet Things”. I think Bowness must have written the ones to “Truenorth” at least, because there is a sweetness (for lack of a better word) to them that I can’t see Wilson pulling off. His lyrics are usually much darker, which is why he might have had a  hand in “All Sweet Things”. 

“All Sweet Things” is my second-favorite song on Schoolyard Ghosts. It’s a nice opening track, because it sets the mood for the entire album. It has a beautiful melody which slowly unfolds. The mostly acoustic instrumentation is very warm (there’s that adjective again!) and inviting. 

I’ll concede your point in defending “Pigeon Drummer”. Without the tension it adds to the overall mix, the album would probably suffer from a sameness in style and atmosphere. You can’t appreciate calm beauty without a little harshness to get through!

Brad: Tad, thanks for such a great dialogue.  I was really happy to revisit Schoolyard Ghosts, and it’s always excellent “talking” music with you.  As you’ve pointed out here and elsewhere, modern music simply would not be where it is without Bowness and Wilson.  Each have contributed so much–as creative talents and as analysts.  The current issue of PROG magazine has an excellent article on early No-man.  As Wilson notes, the two would rather talk Spirit of Eden than hit the club scene.  Amen.

Tad: Amen, indeed!

Republic of Letters

We Really Like The Bardic Depths’ “What We Really Like In Stories”!

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Bardic Depths Stories

In this post, Kevin McCormick and Tad Wert discuss The Bardic Depths’ new album, What We Really Like In Stories. It is the third album from them, and it features songwriting by Dave Bandana and Gareth Cole, with lyrics by Bradley Birzer.

Tad: Kevin, it’s great to be reviewing this album with you! I know you and Brad go way back in your friendship – did you ever imagine he would someday be the lyricist for a British progressive rock group?

Kevin: Thanks Tad–great to be writing it with you as well.  It was definitely a surprise when Brad first mentioned he was writing lyrics for a rock recording—we had a good laugh! But in retrospect it seems a natural step. We shared a love of the early prog music from the start of our friendship and he writes constantly, albeit in a more academic setting than rock lyrics. So it’s not as much of a stretch as you might think. One of his favorite aspects of Tolkien’s and Chesterton’s writings are their poems. And he’s a huge fan of T.S. Eliot. But I think his collaboration with Dave on the Bardic Depths albums is a great fit and I’ve enjoyed watching the development of the concepts and sounds over the years. You know, the first album started out as just a friendly experiment. Dave had some music he had written and asked Brad for a lyric to put with it.

Tad: Kevin, I always enjoy learning the “behind the scenes” details of albums, so thanks for sharing those. 


Okay! Let’s talk about What We Really Like In Stories. As I mentioned, this is the third album from The Bardic Depths, and I think they just improve with every release. I really, really like this one. First, I think these are the best lyrics Brad has written yet. Every song is a tribute to an author, and taken as a collection they illustrate Brad’s love for various genres, primarily fantasy and science fiction. The title track refers to C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, who are responsible for two of the most popular fantasy series of the twentieth century: The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings, respectively. Birzer imagines them discussing their literary aims over a drink and a smoke in the local pub:

Could we write fiction
That might combine these things:
A love of history; a desire to debate the defenders of the modern world
Promote one’s philosophical and religious thoughts
Could a modern writer create art but not be over blatant?  

“You’ve Written Poetry My Boy” is about Ray Bradbury (The Martian Chronicles, Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Illustrated Man, among many others), and refers to some praise that Aldous Huxley gave him. “Vendetta” is dedicated to Alan Moore, who put together the graphic novel, V for Vendetta. “Old Delights” is a delightful little song in honor of midwestern American author Willa Cather, while “The Feast Is Over” recognizes the genius of pulp writer Robert E. Howard (Conan the Barbarian stories). “Stillpoint” pays tribute to Walter M. Miller (A Canticle for Leibowitz), and the last track is about British fantasist Robert Rankin. 

In other words, this is a very literate collection of songs, and they celebrate some of the greatest bards of modern times. I was an avid reader of Bradbury, Lewis, Tolkien, Howard, and Miller when I was in high school, so it is a joy to see them properly honored by The Bardic Depths. I’m not familiar with Rankin’s work, but I am certainly going to check him out now.

Kevin: Without a doubt this new album is a real step forward for the band.  Everything from the songwriting, to the instrumental performances, to the production is excellent. You can see the maturation process as the band really seems to blend and complement one another so well. The vocal harmonies are tight and solid. The lead lines are powerful and expressive and carry the songs into new spaces.

I think my favorite track at the moment is “You’ve Written Poetry My Boy.” It opens with a beautiful arpeggiating twelve-string guitar evoking memories of early Genesis. But it is soon joined by an equally-beautiful soprano sax (if this is a keyboard patch it’s an extremely natural sound). The unlikely pairing dance around each other’s lines and set up the entrance to the tune proper.  Again there are hints of Genesis here, but the band seems to have found a sound of their own.  And I love the variety in the instrumentation–string pads, piano, organ, and I think I hear some harpsichord in there. And then mid-song there is a shift to a minor section which briefly darkens the mood and serves as a platform for a sax solo, only to pass through back to the main theme. Shifts like this can be clunky sometimes in prog bands, but TBD avoid this pitfall by carefully crafting the transition compositionally.

Overall I must say that I hear hints and suggestions of so many great prog bands throughout this album. Those hints position the album in a space that sits well with other classic recordings yet still retains its own voice. Moments of the Floyd and Supertramp peak out here and there, and there’s a bluesy hard rock sensibility in the final track, “Whispers In Space,” and some even some techno in Stillpoint. Some of the vocal work has shades of Big Big Train. But again, there is a TBD color in the sound that holds everything together as a part of the larger work.

Tad: Kevin, I knew you had excellent taste – “You’ve Written Poetry My Boy” is my favorite track as well! And that is Peter Jones on clarinet and alto sax. I too hear glimmers of classic Genesis (the Steve Hackett years) in this song, and I find that very appealing. There’s no wonder they chose this track to be the first single.

I also want to give a shoutout to Gareth Cole’s guitar work throughout the album – it is truly stellar. His solos in Vendetta are spectacular – driving, melodic, and pure. His slide guitar in “The Feast Is Over” is terrific!

To wrap things up, I think we can agree that What We Really Like In Stories is a big leap forward for a group that improves upon excellence. They seem to have really gelled as a unit – Dave Bandana, Gareth Cole, and Brad Birzer are at the top of their form as far as songwriting goes, and Peter Jones’ vocal and instrumental contributions are wonderful. I also like Dave’s vocals on “The Feast Is Over” – he’s got an “everyman” sound that is quite inviting. 

Before we close, I’d like to mention how interesting Kevin Thompson’s artwork is. The style is somewhat primitive and whimsical, which complements the songs perfectly. Stylistically, it reminds me of the cover art for the Beach Boys’ Smile album. Thompson’s painting is of a cozy room with a fire blazing away, and piles of books on a table. The authors are the ones featured in the songs, and there are needlepoint hanging that spell out the “The Bardic Depths” and “What We Really Like In Stories”. I’m intrigued by the clock on the mantel: the numbers aren’t the standard 1 through 12! Instead, they run 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37.

What We Really Like In Stories is a contender for album of the year in my book. The subject matter of the songs is thought-provoking while remaining playful, while the musicianship is first-rate. This is one album I’ll be enjoying for years to come.

Here’s the video for “You’ve Written Poetry My Boy”:

Republic of Letters

Heart Land Mines, Vol. 1: Dave Kerzner’s Love Letter to the Past

Heart Land Mines

In this, our latest dialogue, Brad Birzer and Tad Wert discuss the new album from the multi-talented Dave Kerzner, Heart Land Mines, Vol. 1. Kerzner has been involved in many different projects, all of them excellent. Besides his solo albums, he was also a member of Sound of Contact, Arc of Life, and In Continuum. He rivals Neal Morse and Mike Portnoy in the number and variety of musical ventures he participates in.

Tad: Brad, when I read Dave’s liner notes to Heart Land Mines, Vol. 1 and saw that these were songs from the 90s that he wrote after a relationship with a girlfriend broke up, I had low expectations. But I have really enjoyed this album from the first time I listened to it! It doesn’t hurt that Kerzner has a great ear for a musical hook – “Dreaming In LA” sounds like classic Bad Company to me, but better. 

This album is proggy – Kerzner’s voice has that laconic quality that always recalls David GIlmour – but it’s primarily a straightforward rock album that would be at home on an FM radio station in 1975. There’s a lot of acoustic guitar – “Back To One” sounds like an Eagles hit with its vocal harmonies. Anyway, maybe I’m emphasizing its retro qualities a little too much, but I find myself really taken with them!

Brad: Tad, thank you so much for asking me to do this review of Kerzner’s Heart Land Mines.  I’m sorry to be late in replying.  Since you first invited me to write this, I’ve been to the University of Louisville and back.  Not quite Tennessee, Tad, but still a beautiful city and state!  I gave lectures on sociologist Robert Nisbet and fabulist J.R.R. Tolkien, and I had a blast while I was there–especially seeing one of my long-time friends, Gary Gregg.  He’s not a progger, but he is a brilliant guy.

As far as I know, I have everything Kerzner has released (at least if bandcamp is to be believed), and I’ve been a huge fan of his since the deluxe edition of New World came out.  Wow, do I remember when that came out–I was utterly blown away by it.  Indeed, that album would rank as one of my all-time favorites, and I go back to it frequently.  I also really enjoyed Static and would also rank it very highly in my all-time lists.  His In Continuum albums also move me and have a high place in my rankings.

From my perspective, Kerzner is ELO progged up, and Pink Floyd popped up.  He has an infectious way about creating an ear-friendly riff while also complicating the matter in the proggiest fashion.  And, his production is always crystal clear and fetching.

For whatever reason, however, I’ve not been able to get into Heart Land Mines.  I’ve listened to it now three or four times, but it’s failed to grab me in the way that Kerzner’s previous albums have.  

I will say, however, that you’re absolutely right, if this were 1975, Kerzner would be huge on Album Rock Radio.  On the album, he clearly embraces the ethos and sound of Led Zeppelin, the Eagles, Bad Finger, etc.

Don’t get me wrong.  I really like Heart Land Mines, but it’s yet to become a part of my being in the way that his other albums have.  At this point, I’m happy to move on to his other albums and consider Heart Land Mines a labor of love, but not of genius.  

Please tell me why I’m wrong!

Tad: Brad, as always, you have the perfect phrase to describe an artist’s work: “ELO progged up, and Pink Floyd popped up” is Kerzner in a nutshell!

I wouldn’t say Heart Land Mines is a work of genius, but gosh, I think it’s a blast to listen to. It serves as a reminder of how far pop music has fallen since the 70s. We both agree Heart Land Mines would be a huge hit on mid-70s AOR. Today, it appeals to a niche audience. I know, I know – in the 70s guys our age were complaining about how great big band music was, and how awful radio was!

Anyway, I have enjoyed Kerzner’s semi-autobiographical musical journey here. He took what seems to be an ugly breakup of a relationship and turned it into a very catchy set of songs. “Manic Calm” has an irresistible guitar riff (I’m a sucker for a descending scale) that I can listen to over and over. “Eye Of The Storm” is the best Pink Floyd song since “High Hopes”. And I love the way he reprises a couple of songs to pull everything together into a cohesive package.

Like you, I’ve tried to buy everything Kerzner has put out, but it’s hard to keep up with the guy!  Sound of Contact’s eponymous album was near-perfect progressive rock, but it looks like personality clashes have kept them from ever getting together again. I have both of his In Continuum albums, and I like them a lot, but to my ears, neither of them have any melodies that are as memorable as some of the ones on Heart Land Mines. 

I agree that Heart Land Mines is a labor of love (or maybe broken love!), but I find it to be a thoroughly pleasurable listen. Sometimes, that’s all I want or need. I’ve always had a soft spot for power pop, and if a song’s melody doesn’t grab me, I have a hard time getting into it. Kerzner is a fantastic songwriter, I am so glad he decided to dust off these old tunes and record them.

Brad: thanks for the good words and the reminder, Tad.  You’re absolutely right, Heart Land Mines is a work of AOR genius, and it would’ve been a massive hit–along with Hotel California–in the 1970s.  Too bad for Kerzner that he’s temporarily out of joint!

For what it’s worth, I’ve given Heart Land Mines a few more listens since I wrote the first reaction, and the album very much continues to grow on me.  I would say that the album not only embraces The Eagles and Bad Company, but also, to a certain extent, Elvis Costello.  

Overall, it’s a delight of influences.  I even hear bits of Stone Temple Pilots and Steely Dan and other bands from the 1980s and the 1990s.

Kerzner is never shy about his debt to other bands, but these debts seem quite blatant and serious.  

Regardless, I’m so glad to live in the same world as Dave Kerzner  Whatever I think of this particular album, I know that my life is immensely better because of his music.

Tad: And on that note, I think we’ll bring this joint review to a close. Spirit of Cecilia readers, if you haven’t yet experienced the magic of Dave Kerzner’s music, you should check out his first solo album, New World; if you like it (and we think you will!), then Heart Land Mines is a worthy followup.

Here’s the official video for “Eye Of The Storm”:

 

Republic of Letters

The Cure’s Disintegration: An Appreciation

disintegration

Greetings, Spirit of Cecilia readers! In this post, Brad Brizer and Tad Wert discuss their love for another classic album – in this case, The Cure’s Disintegration.

Tad: Brad, we’re reviewing this album at your suggestion, and I’m glad we’re giving it its due! I have to admit that Disintegration slipped by me at the time it was released. I was listening to the B-52s’ Cosmic Thing, Don Henley’s The End of Innocence, Paul McCartney’s Flowers In The Dirt, Todd Rundgren’s Nearly Human…in other words, a lot of “pop” music. Up to that point, the only Cure album I had listened to extensively was 1985’s The Head On The Door. 

However, many years later I eventually caught a bug that only The Cure could fix (did you catch that? 🙂 and I dove into their entire catalog. Disintegration is definitely a peak of their long career. For me, it’s rare that an album creates an overall mood and atmosphere as consistently good as Robert Smith and company do with this album.

Brad: Dear Tad, thank you so much for agreeing (happily, I take it!) to review Disintegration.  Ever since it came out–way back in 1989–I’ve been in love with the album.  Indeed, from my first listen, it grabbed me rather hard and has held on for thirty-five years.  It is, I think, the proggiest of The Cure’s albums, which helps explain why I like it so much.  A kind of pop-prog or prog-pop, in the vein (though sounding nothing like) Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys or Skylarking by XTC.

The Cure is also famous for truly poppy songs–such as “Friday, I’m in Love.”  I like these songs, but I don’t love them.  These are almost entirely absent from Disintegration, which is another plus to my mind.  I definitely much prefer a song like “Disintegration” to “Friday, I’m in Love.”  I’d be pretty disappointed if the former didn’t exist in my life, but if I never hear the latter again, I won’t be upset.

Even the poppier songs on Disintegration–such as “Love Song”–aren’t that poppy, and they fit perfectly into the flow of the album.  The album is almost perfectly produced, and the track order allows for the album to build and build (more on this in a later comment).

Again, I love this Disintegration as an album, and I always include it in my top 10 favorite albums of all time, along with several by Rush, Talk Talk, Kate Bush, Yes, Genesis, and Tears for Fears.

The album first came out in May 1989, at the very end of my junior year of college, and I was introduced to it by my great friend, Ron Strayer, then a student at the University of Kansas.  We had been debate partners throughout high school, and we often shared our loves in common–science fiction novels, movies, and music.  Ron’s tastes were always a little more poppier (in the alternative/college scene), and mine were always proggier (toward Genesis, Yes, etc.), but we mixed well.

This is, of course, the 35th anniversary of the album, but on the 20th anniversary, Roger O’Donnell of The Cure wrote an 11,000 (!!!) word reminiscence–complete with lots of great photos–of the making of the album.

I will admit, I’ve read this through twice, and I find it an amazing story.  A weird story, but an amazing one.

Tad: Brad, thanks for sharing O’Donnell’s memoir of the recording of Disintegration. I love learning about the background of great albums. One thing he mentioned, and I kind of agree with, was his disappointment with the mastering – he says it sounded compressed and flat. He suggests that the live versions recorded at Entreat Plus (available on the 3-disc Deluxe Edition) are better representations. I don’t know about that, but the live versions are very good – a more open sound.

Okay, let’s discuss the songs. The one track that I absolutely love is “Lullaby”. Referring again to O’Donnell’s piece, I was surprised to learn that the band had all of the instrumental tracks completed before Robert Smith sang any lyrics. That means they had no idea that “Lullaby”, with its bouncy melody would end up being such a creepy song about spiders and death! Still, it is my favorite song on the album.

I also love the majestic opener, “Plainsong”. It is a perfect mood-setter for the entire album, with its massive, dirge-like chords that never relent. “Lovesong” is a nice respite from all the gloom, but I prefer the darker songs. I especially like “Prayers for Rain” – it slowly builds and builds into a beautiful edifice of sound. “Homesick” is one of the prettiest songs The Cure ever recorded, and “Untitled” is a wonderful closing track. It sounds like a musical postscript to a long letter, if that makes sense. [Brad: yes, this makes perfect sense]

I’m looking at the track times of these songs, and I never realized how lengthy they are! “Lovesong” at 3:29 is the shortest, while half of them are longer than 6 minutes. It’s a credit to the strength of the songs that I never feel like the album drags or is too long.

Brad: Excellent response, Tad.  It’s funny (in a strange kind of way), I just finished Steven Hyden’s This Isn’t Happening: Radiohead’s Kid A . . . and I loved it.  

But, it struck me several times in reading the book that when The Cure is experimental–especially as they were with Disintegration–they’re as innovative as the best of them.  

You reminded me in email about our three-way conversation three years ago about whether or not The Cure were prog.  In some ways, bands like The Cure and Radiohead are beyond prog.  They simply are.  They’re unique, and the music they create, overall, transcends musical boundaries.  

Much of what The Cure has written has been very much in the pop vein, but much of it is just weird and experimental and wonderful and unique.  One of my favorite collections is The Cure, Join the Dots, a four-disk exploration of their b-sides.  Many of the b-sides are straight-up pop, but several are really experimental and proggy.  Needless to write, The Cure’s b-sides would be almost anyone else’s a-sides.

Back to Disintegration.  I’ve never noticed the mix as sounding flat or compressed, but I do love the dark consistency of the album.  From the opening track, “Plainsong,” to the final track, “Untitled,” it feels as though we’re barely breathing–perhaps just on the surface of a lake, grasping for air.  There’s a brilliant suffocation to the production of the album.  The album, in some mysterious way, just feels “alive” but, again, grasping.

I wonder if Disintegration just happens to be the last of the great analog recordings, while digital would become the norm after 1989?  I have no idea–just a thought.

Agreed, though, that The Cure sound amazing live.  I’ve never seen them in concert in real time, but I own all the DVD/Blu-ray concerts the band has released, and they are among my favorites.  Again, the pop songs are fun, but it’s the more intense, experimental songs live that really grab me.  I love watching the interplay of the band members, especially on the more complicated songs.

Earlier, I mentioned how much I love the flow of Disintegration.  The track order seems, in large part, to make this album.  You’re absolutely right to call much of it “dirge like.”  Again, I would call it grasping for life, perfect headphones in a dark room kind of music.  

I especially appreciate the sequence of the second half of the album: “Fascination Street” to “Prayers for Rain” to “The Same Deep Water as You” to “Disintegration” to “Homesick” to “Untitled.”  It’s as dark as dark can get, but so relentlessly driving.  Even the one moment of hope, when it starts to rain at the beginning of “The Same Deep Water as You,” and after “Prayers for Rain,” begs the question: did our prayers get answered only to have us drown?

Even the transition from “The Same Deep Water as You” to “Disintegration” is treacherous.  After all, the couple seems to die kissing in the former, but in the latter we have:

Yeah, I miss the kiss of treachery

The shameless kiss before I feed

The stench of a love for younger meat

And the sound it makes when it cuts in deep

The holding up on bended knees

The addiction of duplicities

As bit by bit, it starts the need

To just let go, my party piece

Brutal.  And, together, the two songs take up nearly 18 minutes of the album.

Tad: Brad, thanks for making me aware of Join The Dots; now I have something else to add to my wishlist!

I agree with you that The Cure is best when they aren’t trying to be anything except experimental. And your Radiohead comparison is most apt. I originally thought The Head On The Door and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me were better than Disintegration, but over time I’ve reversed my opinion. On the first two, I get the feeling they are deliberately striving for a more pop sound, while on Disintegration, they had no plans to make a bestseller (if O’Donnell’s memory can be trusted!). I hated Kid A when it first came out, thinking it was pretentious and noisy. Now, it is my favorite album of theirs.

You also capture the same feeling I have when I listen to Disintegration – it is almost suffocating in its density. I mean that in a good way, believe it or not. All of its songs are of a piece, and it is one of those albums that is an album – every track adds to the whole, and the sum is much greater than its parts. In this age of streaming, I don’t believe artists think in terms of albums any more – except for proggers. Maybe that’s why you and I are so enamored of that genre; it’s still creating suites of songs that should be listened to as albums, and not as separate tracks.

Well, my friend, I think we’ve done The Cure’s Disintegration justice. As the years go by, it seems to gain in stature, and rightfully so. And to our Spirit of Cecilia readers, thanks so much for stopping by. If you have any suggestions for what you’d like us to discuss, let us know in the comments!

Republic of Letters

Yet Another Best Of List (2023)

2023 is coming to a close, so I’d like to take stock of some great music I’ve enjoyed over the past 12 months. These are my personal favorites, not the official list of Spirit of Cecilia (but we have reviewed quite a few of them!)

#10 – Haken: Fauna

Halen Fauna

Have these guys ever made a bad record? I don’t think so. No band better combines heaviness with soaring vocals and great melodies. There are moments of true beauty – the intro to “Nightingale” – alongside blistering guitar-driven rock – “Beneath the White Rainbow”. And the artwork is a total hoot!

#9 – Galahad: The Long Goodbye

Galahad Goodbye

Brad Birzer and I reviewed this excellent album recently here at Spirit of Cecilia. You can read our thoughts on it here.

#8 – Downes Braide Association: Celestial Songs

DBA Celestial

I know that Yes released a new album in 2023, but I ended up listening to this one much, much more. I think Geoff Downes is saving his best songs for DBA, and Chris Braide is the perfect collaborator for him. This is a uniformly excellent set of pop-prog songs. Majestic, intimate, and altogether pleasing to the ear. Also, it features one of Roger Dean’s finest album covers.

#7 – Cyan: Pictures From The Other Side

Cyan Pictures

Again, Brad Birzer and I reviewed this one recently. It is a rerecording of earlier songs, but what a fine set of songs to work with! You can read our thoughts on it here. 

#6 – Kite Parade: Retro

Retro

I reviewed this delightful album back in April. What a fun blast of “retro” sounding songs that please the power pop lover in me.

#5 – Bruce Soord: Luminescence

Luminescence

This offering from the Pineapple Thief’s frontman impressed Carl Olson, Brad Birzer, and me so much that we posted a discussion of it back in early November. Check it out here.

#4 – Riverside: ID.Entity

Riverside ID

Our own Erik Heter wrote a masterful review of this phenomenal album in January. I couldn’t possibly improve on it, so check it out here.

#3 – Glass Hammer: Arise

Arise

Glass Hammer is a perennial favorite of Spirit of Cecilia, and Arise continues their streak of excellence. Steve Babb and company blast off for a very spacey adventure in this album. You can read my detailed review of it here.

#2 – North Atlantic Oscillation: United Wire

NAO Wire

It is Brad Birzer’s and my firm belief that Sam Healy is a musical genius.  United Wire confirms that belief. You can read our discussion of this wonderful suite of songs here. 

#1 – Southern Empire: Another World

Southern Empire Another World

I only recently was able to listen to this, Southern Empire’s third album, and it has not left my CD player and car stereo. What an achievement! Sean Timms has really come into his own as a composer, and wow, what a terrific sound he and his group create here. Sean Holton is the vocalist now, and he is amazing. The 20-minute epic “White Shadows” is the finest song I have heard in a long, long time. The overall feel of the album reminds me of Spock’s Beard when they had Neal Morse writing all of their material.  Another World is one of those rare albums that I can listen to multiple times in a row and not tire of it. In a year of incredibly good music, Southern Empire has jumped out to lead the pack.

Well, that’s it for another year. If I sat down to do this again tomorrow, I’d probably come up with a different one (that included, perhaps, Steven Wilson’s Harmony Codex, Steve Thorne’s Malice in Plunderland, Katatonia’s Sky Void Of Stars, or Damanek’s Making Shore)! 

Happy New Year, and thank you for following us at Spirit of Cecilia!

Republic of Letters

90125 At 40

90125

Once again, the resident music aficionados of Spirit of Cecilia (Brad Birzer, Tad Wert, Erik Heter, Kevin McCormick, and Carl Olson) turn their gazes onto a prog classic – this time discussing Yes’ best-selling album, 90125.

Tad: Gentlemen, this album came out 40(!) years ago. In 1983, I was a senior at Vanderbilt University and compact disc players were just beginning to become affordable. Against all common sense, I bought a Sanyo player for $399 and three cds: Roxy Music’s Avalon, Pink Floyd’s The Final Cut, and Yes’ 90125. I still remember the awed looks on my dormmates’ faces when I popped in 90125 and “Owner of a Lonely Heart” came blasting out of my stereo without any preliminary hiss or scratching from a vinyl lp.

At the time, this album was a huge hit for Yes, and it jumpstarted their career after it had flagged somewhat (even though I would argue that its predecessor, Drama, was a terrific work). However, we now know that the recording of 90125 was not all sweetness and light. In fact, I believe it wasn’t even supposed to be a Yes album! But I’ll let someone else who is more knowledgeable give us the details of that.

Erik: Sometime around August, 1983, I was hanging out in the rec room of one of the barracks at the ASW (anti-submarine warfare) base in San Diego, a city where I had spent several months prior and would spend a few more learning the intricacies of submarine sonar.  Someone had left a music magazine hanging around, it might have been Rolling Stone, but I’m not 100% sure on that.  Anyway, I picked it up and started thumbing through it and saw a news item entitled “Yes – No.”  A picture of Steve Howe accompanied the short piece, which relayed the news that Yes was reforming, with Jon Anderson on vocals, Chris Squire on bass, Alan White on drums, and newcomer Trevor Rabin on guitar.  While much of the piece focused on Howe’s disapproval of the new lineup, I swept that aside for the news of a Yes reunion – I was absolutely thrilled.  

Later, in October of that year, I departed San Diego, training complete, and headed back to what was then home in Charlotte, NC, for a few weeks of leave before, in late November, I would make my way to my boat (the USS Olympia, SSN 717) that was then under construction in the shipyard at Newport News, VA.  During my leave, Yes released the first single from the new album, followed a few weeks later by the album itself.

Oddly, I was a little bit hesitant when I first heard Owner of a Lonely Heart. While the voice was familiar, as was the bass tone, this was something radically different from anything they had done before.  This one particular song was more commercial sounding than anything they had done, although it was hardly a lowest-common denominator hit.  And the guitar sound (especially that solo) was nothing like I’d ever heard on a Yes album.  There was, however, a bit of a fear that the sound of the album would be so unrecognizable as to not sound anything like Yes.  

That fear was firmly put to rest the night before the album’s release.  Listening to one of the local FM rock stations, a DJ started talking about the new Yes album, 90125, and decided to play another song off the album – Leave It.  I was hooked before they even finished the first verse with that huge, wall of sound vocal harmony that opened the song.  After that, I was ecstatic as I was bombarded to “doos” and “dums” and “deets” coming at me from different vocalists in a number of different directions in a vocal arrangement so complex, innovative, and interesting that only a band like Yes could even dream such a thing up, much less execute it so flawlessly.  This was the music I had been waiting for since the Drama album of three years prior.

The next day (of course!) I wasted no time getting to the mall record store to buy the first of many copies of the album in cassette format that I would own – many copies because I tended to wear them out from so many listens.  In my days of using a Sony Walkman, there isn’t another album that spent as much time being wound and rewound as 90125.  

The first listen to the full album was absolutely magical, revealing a perfect mix of sounds that were simultaneously familiar to Yes fans and yet totally new and different.  Moreover, the sound was very 1980’s contemporary.  And yet even now, 40 years later, the album holds up very well without sounding dated.  90125 showed that Yes could adapt to changing times, that they were anything but dinosaurs as critics had accused them of being.  It showed they could innovate in ways even Yes fans – accustomed to musical innovation – couldn’t have imagined.  It showed they could be commercially relevant in a new decade without devolving into banal hitmaking.  

Oh sure, there were many old school Yes fans that didn’t like the album, the ones who were probably hoping for a redux of Tales from Topographic Oceans.  You can count me out of that group though, because I am one old school fan that loved the album and couldn’t get enough of it.  And while there is some debate about whether the album itself should be classified as prog, the importance of 90125 to the genre cannot be overstated.  A whole new generation of fans was lured in by this album, fans that began venturing into the band’s back catalog and then into the wider world of prog.  Even when I consider the contemporaneous output of another one of my favorite bands – Rush – it’s hard for me to think of a single album that did more to keep the prog flame alive in the 1980’s after critics had gleefully – and, obviously, prematurely – declared the genre dead at the end of the 1970’s.

I’ll get into more of the particulars of the album itself in my next entry, but for now I’m going to turn the floor over to another one of the distinguished participants.

Carl: By reason of age, chance, and the mysterious forces of radio whims, “90125” was my introduction to Yes. I was fourteen and was just getting into pop and rock music, to the horror of my parents, who that same school year—1983-84—made me throw away some cassettes gifted by a friend. Those deeply subversive albums were by Elton John (early, mellow Elton), Pat Benatar, and Foreigner (4, of course). There was only one rock station that reached my small town in western Montana—a bucolic village with a population of 1100, no stop lights, no fast food, and (shockingly) no music scene. 

I recall, quite clearly, being at church youth group one evening and someone, after the more serious stuff, cranking said radio station in their car, doors open in the parking lot. “90125” came on. It immediately grabbed my attention. “What is that?!” I thought. And then came the breakdown, and I was hooked. This was interesting music! It took a while, but I eventually got a tape of the album, and I started to learn more about the convoluted history of Yes and its connections to another favorite group: Asia. Styx, Kansas, Supertramp, Queen, and ELP all followed. I was officially into prog! (And my parents finally gave up trying to control my musical tastes.)

 My years in college—split between Phoenix (1987-88), southern Idaho (1988-89), and Saskatchwan, Canada (1989-91) were filled with musical exploration, ranging from brief flirtations with metal and Bruce Springstreen to more serious dives into Pink Floyd, Rush, Rick Wakeman, Steve Howe, Steve Morse, Queensryche, Kerry Livgren, and so forth. But Yes was always a constant, and I gradually became acquainted with all the earlier work, as well as Trevor Rabin’s excellent solo album “Can’t Look Away” (1989), which I literally wore out. Then, in 1991, having moved to Portland and living with my cousin for a while, I bought my first CD: “90125”. That was a great choice, of course, because it’s a sonic marvel, with Trevor Horn (who I knew a bit about because of his previous work with Yes) at the helm. 

Erik mentioned Rabin’s guitars. As I’ve listened to the album a few times in recent days, they stand out the most to me; they mark the biggest difference between Yes with Howe and the “90125”-era Yes. That’s not a knock on Howe, of course, who is fantastic in countless ways. But the stylistic differences are immense. That, in turn, informs the songs, which are more anthemic and are simply BIG in sound and intention, while containing plenty of complicated parts, harmonies, and arrangements. We’ve all read about how the album came about, how many challenges there were, and how Anderson kind of slipped into the mix; it’s a tribute to Horn and the musicians that they could overcome so much discord and paralyzing circumstances to create one of the great prog-rock albums of the 1980s. 

If Rabin’s guitars set it apart, it is, in my view, Anderson’s vocal contributions that hold it together and make it a real Yes album. It would have been very good without Jon; it is a classic with him. And, again, there is the work of Horn, whose production genius is impossible to overstate. Ironically (or perhaps fittingly?), the same year (1991) I bought “90125” on CD, I discovered the first Seal album and was instantly hooked. It was, of course, produced by Horn, who has been at the helm for several Seal albums—the first three, for me, being one of the finest pop/rock trifectas ever created.

Kevin: Somehow my first memory of 90125 was the hype for the world-premier of their new music video on MTV. “Owner of a Lonely Heart” immediately received heavy rotation on the channel, in part due to the relatively-high production values for a single by an “old” group like Yes were in 1983. The avant-garde film-noir theme seemed an unlikely pairing with the lyrics but somehow it worked and captured a huge new following for the band. But it was simply a great new sound for the band and for the times.

I was fascinated with this new sound and found it to be an engaging blend of progressive and pop. Being in my mid-teens at the time, I don’t think I was as keenly aware of the importance of the “production” of a studio-recorded song, but I was aware that this was definitely a new adventure for Yes. I missed hearing Steve Howe’s guitar, but I also intuited that without Trevor Rabin in the mix this would be a completely different song.

I wholeheartedly concur with both Erik and Carl, that Rabin’s guitar really stands out on that opening track and throughout the album. I love the way the opening track begins with the “heavy distortion” Rabin sound and then quickly pulls back to the clean sound more reminiscent of Howe’s earlier contributions for the band. Whether intentional or not, it was a great way of signaling that this was something new and yet it retains those components that make it Yes.

I caught them live for this tour in Austin in 1984, and they did a great job of capturing that same energy on stage. Rabin seemed comfortable in his new role and had no trouble filling Howe’s shoes on the older material. It was a different style for those tunes, but they were well-played. This being my first chance to catch them live, I had no direct comparison, but I thought it was a tremendous performance.

But that brings up a component of this that I don’t want to miss.  I’ve read various articles about Rabin and Yes and their early incarnation as Cinema. Some accounts claim that Rabin came in with much of the album finished and the band just kind of recorded what he wrote. This is an unjust assessment and really underplays what makes the album so exciting.  I know this not because I was there, but because in 2003 Rabin released his demos as 90124. You can find some of them on YouTube–though I no longer see some of the tracks that better illustrate the point.

What is clear from the demos when compared to the final recording is that his ideas were seeds (some of them quite plain)  waiting to be nurtured and to sprout into full bloom. There was plenty of fluff needing to be pared down. There were plenty of tweaks needed. This was not a collection of hit songs waiting to be recorded; it was a mishmash of some good ideas that needed the rest of the band to make great. Not only did Squire and White bring these germs to life with a powerful rhythm section, but Trevor Horn’s production makes every track completely blossom. Then Jon Anderson arrived in the last few weeks of recording and, as Carl noted, turned a good album into “a classic.” His lyrical contributions alone changed the whole tenor of the work and his vocals are captivating in a way that is simply not there without him.

This was a band effort, an incredible symbiotic musical creation worthy of review forty years on. It will be remembered because it captured and launched the sound of the times both into the prog realm and beyond.

Tad: Kevin, thank you for providing the context in which Trevor Rabin’s contributions were made. It’s interesting to me how a consistent thread in all of our reminiscences has emerged: about how crucial Trevor Horn’s production was. I was a fan of his from his Buggles days – when he and Geoff Downes joined Yes for Drama I was really surprised, because I thought of them as synthpop artists, not progressive rockers! I ended up buying everything Horn produced for his ZTT record label: Frankie Goes To Hollywood (they have not aged well), Propaganda (amazing German group – A Secret Wish remains a favorite 80s album), Art of Noise, and Grace Jones (Slave to the Rhythm). Anyway, I agree that without Horn, 90125 would not be the success it is.

Okay, I’d like to share what my favorite moments on this album are! First, on “Owner of a Lonely Heart”, the opening muffled drum fill that is overtaken by Rabin’s clean guitar riffing, punctuated by Horn’s stabs of synthesized orchestral noise. That mix still sounds new and exciting to me 40 years later.

Second, the massive vocal harmonies on “Hold On” around the 4-minute mark, where they sing “Sunshine, shine on, shine on you”.

Third, the intro to “Changes” where a motif on vibes is played as various other instruments enter playing King Crimson-esque patterns until Rabin’s guitar takes control and gets the proper melody underway.

Fourth, all of “Leave It”. This song is such a vocal and instrumental tour de force! A wall of sound that leaves me wishing it would never end.

Finally, the moment at 5:30 into “Hearts” where the melody transforms from an aggressive, plodding riff to a beautiful, warmhearted tune that is carried by some of Jon Anderson’s finest vocals.

As is my wont, I need to remark on the artwork – what an iconic representation of early 80s fascination with technology! It’s obviously computer-generated graphics that, at the time, seemed futuristic and edgy. And the title came from the catalog number assigned to the album by the label. About as far as you can get from Roger Dean’s fantasy landscapes.

All in all, just a superb album, and I’m thankful all the musicians with their various agendas were able to gel into a cohesive unit and get it done.

Brad: Well, I’m late coming to this conversation, but I love seeing what Tad, Kevin, Erik, and Carl have all contributed.  Thanks to you each for such great thoughts.

I have this album on CD now as well, but I very much remember buying the vinyl back in early November 1983.  I loved the Apple-esque cover of the album (though, I grew up loving Roger Dean’s work, especially for Yessongs), and, like all of us, I was already taken with “Owner of a Lonely Heart.”  I had grown up with Yes (but had somehow misse free d Tormato and Drama, I wouldn’t come back to both until after 90125).  One of my fondest memories is listening to 90125, whole and complete, with my headphones on during that November and December of 1983.  The lights off in my bedroom, the headphones on, and Yes playing beautifully, me absorbing it all..

As much as I loved “Owner of a Lonely Heart” at the time, it was the album as a whole that really grabbed me.  I remember being utterly moved by “Hold On”–”constitution screwup, shattering the dreams” and thinking it one of the deepest songs I’d ever encountered.

Talk the simple smile, such platonic eye

How they drown in incomplete capacity

Strangest of them all, when the feeling calls

How we drown in stylistic audacity

Charge the common ground

Round and round and round, we living in gravity

Shake – We shake so hard, how we laugh so loud

When we reach, we believe in eternity

I believe in eternity.

These were (and remain) pretty heady lyrics for a sixteen year old.  Yes’s 90125 made me realize the possibilities of rock music, just as Rush’s Grace Under Pressure soon would

Then, “It Can Happen”:

You can mend the wires

You can feed the soul apart

You can touch your life

You can bring your soul alive

It can happen to you

It can happen to me

It can happen to everyone eventually

Followed by the brilliant “Changes.”  

Flip the record over.  

Side two, roaring into life with “Cinema.”  As I understand it, this was originally the introduction to what might have been a twenty-minute epic, “Time.”  As it was, though, it stood alone in its gorgeous production, leading into the magisterial “Leave It.”

“Our Song” is a great rocker.

​​Toledo was just another good stop

Along the good king’s highway

My fortification took me by surprise

And hit me sending me sideways

Spellbound – Roundly – Good for sunshine

Can’t help thinking

Singing the Rule Britannia

And this is where it grabs you

There’s method in the key of C

Toledo’s got to be the silver city

In this good country

“City of Love” and “Hearts” perfectly close the album.

Many moons cascade one river

They light from side to side

As we cross in close proximity

Like rivers our hearts entwine

How we talk – How we teach our children

How we move – We direct our eyes

All the senses tuned discovery

As and as and when our hearts decide

Be ready now – Be ye circle

Be the central force ye life

As the game extends the cycle

Be ready to move

Kevin, I’m jealous that you got to see them live  in 1984.  I’m sure that was an extraordinary concert, capturing all the energy of a reborn-band.  Speaking of which, I’ve always liked 9012-Live: The Solos, the live album that came out in 1985.  Again, it just exudes energy and creativity, a band at its best.

Erik: Great comments all, and a lot of fodder to work off of as I discuss the album proper.  

We’ve talked about Rabin’s guitar, it’s contrast to Howe’s work, and its impact on the music.  But there is another contribution that is also quite notable, and that’s Rabin’s contribution to the vocal landscape of this album.  I am adamant in my opinion that from a purely vocal perspective, the Rabin-era lineup is far and away the best Yes lineup.  Consider a few of the songs.  First, Leave It is simply not possible without Rabin.  Not only does he trade lead vocals with Anderson, but his contributions to the harmonies are critical.  Changes is another song that is not possible without Rabin, due to the lead vocalist role alternating between him and Anderson.  And the “talk the simple smile” section of Hold On is yet another harmony that would not sound anywhere near as good without Rabin’s contribution.

This ability to switch back and forth between Rabin and Anderson on lead vocals, as well as the ability to create the vocal harmonies that permeated 90125 made Rabin’s vocals an excellent addition to the Yes sound.  It’s almost as if Rabin was put on this Earth to harmonize with Anderson and Squire, because his voice fits with them so perfectly.  It’s another reason why the version of the pre-Rabin Yes classic I’ve Seen All Good People from 9012Live is my favorite version of this song – Rabin’s contributions to the vocal harmonies makes what is primarily a vocal-driven song all that much better.  

I’ll also throw in more on Horn’s production with regard to a couple of additional observations to go with those given above by Tad, Carl, and Kevin.  First, neither Rabin nor the band in general was all that fond of Owner of a Lonely Heart in its demo form, but Horn would have none of it.  While he wanted a reworking of the lyrics, he nevertheless recognized the song as a hit – in part due to the intro, and in part due the chorus – where the band did not.  Horn didn’t merely want this song on the album, he insisted on it.  Working with the band to rewrite some of the lyrics (for which Horn himself received partial credit) as well as arrangements on the final recording, Horn helped mold the song into the first #1 single Yes ever had, and one that propelled this album into the stratosphere (also, the band’s only #1 album).

Another aspect where Horn excelled as the producer of 90125 was the underappreciated role of track sequencing, upon which he conducted a clinic of how it’s done.  The sequence of songs begins by a delightful punch to the listener’s face (and ears!) with Owner of a Lonely Heart, especially with the intro guitar riff, before moving into the slow but heavy Hold On.  Similarly, the beginning of side 2 with the instrumental Cinema flowing seamlessly into Leave It is just chef’s kiss perfection.  And closing the album with Hearts was a fitting conclusion to Yes’s 80’s rebirth.  Overall, every track on the album feels like it is placed exactly where it should be.  While such sequencing always seems obvious to us in retrospect, the producer had to start with a collection of songs and figure out what would go where.  To ask Horn to do a better job than he did on 90125 is to ask the impossible.  

I also like Kevin’s observation with regard to Anderson’s impact on the album.  Like him, I’ve listened to the demos, and the contrast between those and the finished product is striking, with Anderson’s influence being undeniable.  It was his presence and his contributions that made 90125 truly a Yes album and not just an album performed by some musicians who had been in that band.  There are lyrical passages throughout the album that the seasoned Yes fan will instantly recognize as Anderson’s words.

As far as some of the other tracks go, I’ll first start with It Can Happen, a track which I absolutely love.  This is one track that encapsulates the old Yes spirit of the 1970’s into the new Yes sound of the 1980’s.  Tying to the previous paragraph, this song is one that really demonstrates Anderson’s imprint on the lyrics when compared to the pre-Anderson demo.

Hearts pulls off the same feat of encapsulating the old spirit in the new sound in a different form, hinting at some of Yes’s earlier long-form epics while keeping things economical.  I love the “explosion” in the middle of that song that leads into the “who would believe you, wise men do” section.  Our Song is a deep cut favorite, featuring a driving, tour de force performance by Squire on bass.  Changes was a perfect FM radio staple for the era, with an ear-catching introduction and huge, dynamic swings between the quiet and heavy sections, along Rabin singing lead on the verses while Anderson takes the lead role on the choruses.  

I’m going to cut myself off right here, because I could go on and on (and on) about this album and I need to give some space for the rest of you.  I enjoy reading your contributions as much as I like writing mine!  But in conclusion, when I think of albums of the 80’s that really define the decade (at least for me personally), this one is alway at or near the top. And as a Yes fan, I continued to be thrilled all these decades later that they were able to pull off an album like this, a commercial and artistic triumph that happened in the context of the band navigating a radically different musical landscape from the one in which they had achieved their previous great successes.

Tad: Erik, I think your remarks are the perfect way to conclude this discussion. Gentlemen, it’s been a blast revisiting this album!

Republic of Letters

Cyan and Galahad: Double Fun and Greatness

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Cyan_Galahad

There are two new releases that have created a buzz here at Spirit of Cecilia: Cyan’s Pictures From the Other Side, and Galahad’s The Long Goodbye. The usual Proglings take some time to share their impressions.

Tad: Gentlemen, I suggested we pair these two albums together, because in some unexplainable way they seem to complement each other. To my ears, both are extremely enjoyable listening experiences, and I’m eager to see what you think of them.

I’ll start things off with Cyan’s Pictures From the Other Side. This is a resurrection of an old Rob Reed (Magenta) project, but it is a totally new sound. What immediately leapt out to me was Peter Jones’ (Camel) terrific vocals. He has a bit of that Peter Gabriel/David Longdon vibe, and he is incredibly powerful. Angharad Brinn joins him on several songs, and her soprano melds beautifully with Jones’ baritone. 

The first song, “Broken Man” is an awesome starter to the set – it begins so softly I can barely hear it, then what sounds like Celtic bagpipes show up, and then the entire band explodes! The melody is first-rate, as well as the lyrics:

A broken man always knows what he’s lost

A broken man always counting the cost

A broken man on his knees always prays out loud,

“Give me one more, give me one more chance.”

Brad: What a great suggestion, Tad.  When it comes to Cyan, it’s hard to do better than either Rob Reed or Peter Jones.  Both are men with incredible vision and incredible integrity, exuding class.  I, too, am really taken with “Broken Man” as the opening track.  I’m so glad that the band didn’t turn it into a three-minute pop song, but instead gave it some real life.  I say this as a compliment–the song lingers when it should linger.  It comes to a head when it should come to a head.

As to influences, I hear a lot of Big Country, a lot of U2, and a lot of The Call.  Not sure if Reed or Jones would see it that way, but all three bands sound like forerunners to me.

It’s probably unfair of me–of all people to say this–but the second track, the title track, “Pictures from the Other Side,” sounds very much like a Bardic Depths song.

“Solitary Angel,” track three, just feels like solid rock, a Journey-esque ballad, but with a bit of Marillion (vocals, especially) thrown in.

Track four, “Follow the Flow,” continues in a ballad-esque way, soft but captivating.  Again, I’m hearing a lot of Marillion in this track.  Delicate without being prissy.

Again, track five, “Tomorrow’s Here Today,” continues the intense but soft sound.  And, again, I can only state this is precious in the best sense.  I feel like I’m holding the most fragile flower imaginable while listening to it.  Then, about ½ through the song, it really, really picks up, becoming a rather blistering prog and rock song.  Excellent guitar work here, but also keyboards, bass, and drums.  The last third of the song feels a bit like a Yes/Jon Anderson track.

Not surprisingly, given its name, the sixth and final track, “Nosferatu,” rocks, possessing a Glass Hammer or post-Neal Morse Spock’s Beard sound.  At nearly 18 minutes long, this track gives everything a prog fan would want.  An amazing journey through music.  The keyboards and guitar are especially well-finessed!  Towards the end of the song, there’s even a glorious Star Wars moment!  Or, maybe it’s inspired by Queen.  Regardless, it’s epic.

Tad: Brad, that is very perceptive of you to make the connection to 80s groups like U2, The Call, and Big Country. I did a little research, and these songs were actually first done on Cyan’s second album in the early 90s, and then rerecorded for this album. 

I agree with you that the overall sound of Pictures From The Other Side is good, solid rock. It is definitely prog, but prog grounded in the tuneful hard rock of the 70s and 80s. I think we both give it a strong recommendation for our readers.

Okay – on to Galahad’s latest! Brad, I am so impressed with the music Galahad is producing these days. I thought their previous album, The Last Great Adventurer, was terrific, and the song, “Blood, Skin, and Bone”  off of it was just fantastic.

Their latest offering, The Long Goodbye, is just as strong. The title track, in particular, really moved me. I think it is about saying goodbye to a loved one who is dealing with senile dementia, and it is an outstanding track.

I also think the first three songs are a 1-2-3 tour de force. The opening track, “Behind the Veil of a Smile” is a synth-laden beauty that sets the energy level at high. It has an addictive hook for a melody, and I hit “Repeat” a couple of times before I even listened to the rest of the album! The second song, “Everything’s Changed” is just as good – a perfect mix of retro synths and crunchy guitars. The third track, “Shadow In The Corner” is my favorite. Once again, it starts with some retro-sounding synths and sequencers before a killer guitar riff jumps in. This is the kind of music U2 should be making now! As a matter of fact, I think that’s what links the Cyan album to this one – they both take what’s best from 80’s rock and combine it with 21st century production sensibilities. In both cases, there is no question of sounding nostalgic or cheesy – both groups have an appreciation for the music that was made nearly 40 years ago (Oh my gosh, can you believe that?!) and have brought it into the contemporary prog scene.

Brad: Dear Tad, I very much appreciate your enthusiasm regarding the new Galahad.  I must admit, it’s taken me a bit longer than usual to appreciate.  I’m on several listens now, and I like it very much, but I’m still–even after numerous listens–surprised by just how electronic the album is.  Galahad has had this side to them as far back as I can remember, but it was always on the sides and in parts of the albums rather than at the core.

“Behind the Veil of a Smile” reminds me very much of Steven Wilson and Porcupine Tree but without Wilson’s trademark scratchingly-hard guitars.  And, I very much appreciate the lyrics, which Galahad always excels at writing.

Track two is really pop excellence, reminding me a bit of New Order, especially from the mid-1980s.  The refrain, “everything is changed and nothing will ever be the same again. . . the same again” is pop perfection.

I like very much how track three, “Shadow in the Corner,” steps back from the hyperactivity of the first two songs and gives us something intense and low.  Again, I’m very much reminded of New Order and, even possibly, all the way back to Joy Division, especially at the beginning of the track.  After about a minute, it resumes hyperactivity, becoming a more “mainstream” Galahad song.

Track Four, an acapella-esque folk song, “The Righteous and the Damned,” lovingly takes us back to Galahad’s masterpiece, “Empires Never Last.”  The middle of the track sounds very central European, right before becoming a brilliant flaring guitar track that sounds very much like Fish-era Marillion.

The longest song on the album, track five, the title track, “The Long Goodbye” incorporates a number of different musical styles.  As you note, Tad, the song deals with the very difficult topic of dementia and Alzheimers.  It is a beautiful wrought exploration of the subject, and Galahad should be praised for handling it with such class and delicacy.

Track six, “Darker Days“ takes us back to pretty straight-forward Galahad electronica, sounding here like a harder version of 1980’s Asia.

The album ends with “Open Water,” a gorgeous and gentle tune and ballad–absent all electronica and ending the album on a positive note.

Tad, I’m in full agreement with you, Galahad has very successfully bridged the past and the present with The Long Goodbye.  What seemed jarring to me on the first listen now seems incredibly complex and clever on the 10th listen.  This album took a bit to grow on me, but now that it has, I’m deeply thankful for it.

Tad: Brad, I don’t have as much experience hearing Galahad’s music as you do, so your perspective is very interesting. The Last Great Adventurer was my first exposure to them, so, as far as I’m concerned, the electronics are all good! I hear the New Order vibe you mention, and I think that is a feature. Hopefully, we’ve put enough distance between us and the 80s to appreciate the innovation and variety in music that blossomed during that decade. Yes, some music from then can sound “dated”, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t great music.

Okay! So it looks like we have two thumbs up for both Cyan’s and Galahad’s new offerings. Dear Spirit of Cecilia readers, take some time to check these two albums out. And, like Brad, give yourself time to really absorb them. They will repay the effort – we promise!

Republic of Letters

A Christmas Carol for Today

Merry Christmas, S.o.C. readers and followers! In the spirit of the season, we would like to share this beautiful song by Stephen Herreid, “Father Aeneas Bails You Out”.

It tells the story of a Roman Catholic priest who bails out a friend from jail during an apocalyptic war in the near future – “Washington was blown to hell”. Sounds depressing, but it is actually full of hope and affirmation of life. Herreid sings of how some things are eternal – truth, charity, and Christian love. As Father Aeneas explains to his friend, “You should belong somewhere on Christmas Eve”.

As Oliver Anthony’s “Rich Men North of Richmond” proved earlier this year, there is a real hunger for straightforward songs that aren’t afraid to tell the truth. It doesn’t take a fancy recording studio and expensive instruments to create powerful art. May Steven Herreid’s new Christmas carol be a blessing for you and yours this season.

Republic of Letters

Rush’s Permanent Waves and Exit…Stage Left – An Appreciation

PW_Exit

Greetings, SoC readers! In our latest symposium, Brad, Erik, Kevin, and Tad discuss a true prog classic: Rush’s 1980 album, Permanent Waves, with a side trip to their live album, Exit…Stage Left.

Tad: Gentlemen, let me state right off the bat that Permanent Waves is my favorite Rush album. I know it’s not their “best”, but it is the one I listen to most often. I love the way it bridges earlier albums like A Farewell To Kings and Hemispheres to future masterpieces like Moving Pictures and Power Windows. Also, it’s the first album where Geddy tones down his banshee wail a bit, paving the way for mass acceptance.

Erik: Tad – while Moving Pictures is my favorite Rush album, I certainly think a good case can be made for Permanent Waves.  And to give it due credit, I don’t think Moving Pictures can be made by Rush without them first making Permanent Waves.  As you mention, it serves as a bridge from their previous works to what they became in the 1980’s.  

One thing that Permanent Waves represents to me is Rush learning how to trim the fat, so to speak.  Over previous albums, Rush had become more ambitious in their musical output, from both a compositional standpoint as well as their experimentation with different sounds, including keyboards.  Although this phenomena began almost as soon as Peart joined the band, they really turned it up to 11 starting with 2112.  It culminated with Hemispheres, which included the side-long suite that gave the album its title as well as the incredibly complex instrumental, La Villa Strangiato (and I must mention it also contained my favorite anti-commie song of all time, The Trees).  When compared to these previous albums, Permanent Waves seems relatively stripped down. Indeed, members of the band stated that they were exhausted making Hemispheres and were looking to scale things back at the time they recorded Permanent Waves.

In doing such an album, Rush added the final piece to their repertoire that made Moving Pictures possible – the ability to be economical with their music and the balancing of that with larger ambitions.  Indeed, there were not-so-subtle hints that they were doing this on my two favorite pieces from the album, Jacob’s Ladder and Natural Science.  Both of these songs show the ambition that drives some of the best progressive rock, while also showing enough restraint to attain the aforementioned balance.

I have a few other observations I’ll make in my next entry, but for now, I’ll turn the floor over to one of the other participants here.

Brad: Dear Tad, Erik, and Kevin!  From the blistering guitar attack in the opening moments of Permanent Waves (Spirit of Radio) to the final, sighing ambient sounds (Natural Science), this album is a stunner.  It’s so utterly different from all the Rush albums that preceded it, and, yet, in some mysterious way, it’s a perfect continuation of Rush music and magic.

As I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t come to Rush until the spring of 1981.  I was a seventh grader at Liberty Junior High in Hutchinson, Kansas, and I had done something to earn detention.  Detention meant an extra period after school in the school library.  None of this really mattered–my mom wouldn’t get home from work until 5, so she’d never know that I was in detention, and the library was my favorite place at the junior high.  

I don’t even remember what I did to earn detention, but I’m sure it had something to do with me talking too much in class.  

Regardless, my fellow detainees were Troy and Brad (a different Brad).  One of them had a Genesis Duke lapel pin (on his jean jacket), and we started talking progressive rock.  I was quite familiar with Genesis, Yes, and Kansas, but I’d never heard of Rush.  Troy and Brad assured me that I had to listen to Moving Pictures, the latest album from Rush.  Despite detention, I immediately went out and bought the album.  I was immediately hooked!

From there, I worked backward, encountering the beauty that is Permanent Waves.  I loved the six songs, I loved the cover and the artwork, and I especially loved the lyrics.

Strangely, though, it wasn’t until I first met Kevin McCormick that I became obsessed with the lyrics for “Natural Science”.  As a gift to me, Kevin (in his beautiful and distinctive penmanship) wrote out the lyrics of the song for me.  I carefully folded those lyrics and kept them in my wallet for decades.  Indeed, they shaped my whole outlook on life.  I’m a practicing Catholic, but, thanks to Peart and Kevin, I will also always be an idealistic Stoic.

Since I have the floor, I’ll also add this.  Tad, I love that you included Exit Stage Left in this discussion.  Rush, I think, at least up through Different Stages always bookended the various styles of their music with a live album.  After Vapor Trails, Rush began to release live album after live album, thus changing their previously careful M.O.  All to the good, I say, as I want more Rush rather than less Rush.

Still, back to Exit Stage Left.  If I had to list my ten favorite live albums of all time, Exit would be among them.  Maybe not number one, as I think the production values of the album sound dated at this point.  But, the music.  So glorious.  And, the transitions from song to song are just extraordinary.

I especially appreciate the transition on side three of the double album, Broon’s Bane to The Trees to Xanadu.  Heaven itself!  I realize that the album came from several different concerts, but I would’ve loved to have been at any one for the Permanent Waves and Moving Pictures tours.

Tad: Erik, I think you nailed one of the most attractive characteristics of Permanent Waves – there is absolutely no fat; it’s the leanest album of their career! Even the relatively long tracks, “Jacob’s Ladder” and “Natural Science” (7:27 and 9:19 respectively) are models of conciseness. Brad, I agree with you that “Natural Science” is a keeper. It is my favorite song on the album. When Alex starts an arpeggiated riff and Geddy first sings

Wheel within wheels in a spiral array
A pattern so grand and complex
Time after time we lose sight of the way
Our causes can’t see their effects

is one of their greatest musical moments. And of course, I have to appreciate Peart’s hopeful take on humanity:

The most endangered species, the honest man
Will still survive annihilation.

Another favorite song – and this might be a surprise to you all – is “Different Strings”. It’s so unlike anything Rush had recorded before – understated, elegant, and, well, hushed in its sound. I love how Geddy utilizes harmonics on his bass to underline the melody, while Alex pulls off a lazy, loping guitar solo.

“Entre Nous” is simply a beautiful song, both in melody and lyrics. There is perfect balance in it between the heavy guitar riff at the beginning and Alex’s delicate touch during the chorus. Meanwhile, Neil’s lyrics are very mature – it’s impossible for two individuals to fully know and understand each other, but it is possible to grow close via mutual respect.

Erik: Great, stuff guys!  I am happy that we all have agreement on Natural Science and Jacob’s Ladder.

Another fond memory I have of this album was that it marked the time when I really started to hear Rush on the radio frequently.  I had been a Rush fan for about two years at this point, but only occasionally heard them on the radio, with songs like “Fly By Night,” “Closer to the Heart,” and “Working Man.”  I don’t recall ever hearing anything off of “2112” or “Hemispheres” on the radio in those days.  But starting with Permanent Waves, Rush broke through on my preferred FM rock station quite forcefully, starting with the ironic hit The Spirit of Radio.  I call it ironic because the song was basically a call for artistic integrity over going for the lowest common denominator to have hits, and yet this song might have been Rush’s biggest hit up to that time.  I certainly heard it on the radio much more than any of their previous music.  Entre Nous and Freewill also got plenty of radio airplay.  On the latter of those two, along with The Spirit of Radio, I was also able to get a preview of Permanent Waves when I caught my first Rush concert at Rupp Arena in Lexington, KY, in September of 1979.  Oddly, I remembered Freewill more than the hit song.

Increased radio airplay is another way that Permanent Waves presaged what was to come the following year with Moving Pictures, as it exposed Rush to a wider audience that was receptive to the follow-on.  Another aspect of the music that I noticed here was the incorporation of certain sounds not found on previous Rush albums, particularly the reggae-influenced interlude found on The Spirit of Radio.  Similar sounds found their way onto the next two albums with Vital Signs in Moving Pictures, and Digital Man on Signals.  I’ve read elsewhere that the members of the band were listening to The Police quite a bit around this time, and these reggae excursions are evidence of that.  They serve as more evidence of the manner in which Permanent Waves served as a turning point that teed up Rush for what was to come.

Onto Exit … Stage Left now.  If this is not my favorite live album of all time, it is certainly in the top five.  Between February and October of 1981, no album of mine was in more heavy rotation than Moving Pictures.  It took another Rush release – the live album we are discussing – to change things.  This was just such a stellar live album, great recording and great sound throughout.

Brad, you and I are going to be doing a Vulcan mind meld on what proved to be side three of the vinyl edition of Exit … Stage Left – Broon’s Bane, to The Trees, and into Xanadu.  While all four sides of that album received plenty of play by me, none received more than this epic side three.  And as for Xanadu itself?  This is my favorite version, which I strongly favor over the studio version.  The latter was a bit dry in its sound and production overall, while the live version here smoothed out the rough edges without losing any of the punch or dynamics of the original.  

But to give the other sides their due, mention must be made of a rousing version of Closer to the Heart, which received more than a little well-deserved airplay of its own.  Freewill and Jacob’s Ladder also make respective appearances, coming off well in the live setting.  And of course, we have the rousing intro on side one with The Spirit of Radio.  In short, Exit … Stage Left perfectly encapsulates the Rush era that played out between their previous live album and this one.  In sound, setlist, and performance, it’s really hard to find a better live album than this, and I’m not sure I ever have.  Insert chef’s kiss -here-.  🙂

Brad: Tad, I’m completely with you on Entre Nous and Different Strings.  Each shows a side of Rush rarely seen but always appreciated.  Erik, I really appreciate your enthusiasm, especially for the various sides of Exit. . . Stage Left. Somehow, the band just really captured its best self with that live album.  As much as I appreciate all Rush live albums (and I own them all in various formats), it’s always Exit. . . Stage Left that I go back to the most.  It’s one of my-all time favorite live albums as well.

Overall, though, I must state, as much as I love Permanent Waves (and I do), in hindsight, the album really feels like a transition album, itself pointing to something else.  In this case, it’s pointing toward Moving Pictures and Signals but, I think, also to the very angular Grace Under Pressure.  Power Windows and Hold Your Fire seem well beyond Permanent Waves, taking both new wave and jazz fusion in fascinating directions.


Natural Science, though, is the one exception to this transition idea.  It seems it could’ve only existed on Permanent Waves.  Nothing like it had ever come before and really nothing like it would ever come again.  Not only is the song perfectly constructed, but Neil’s stoic lyrics really hit the peak of his writing.  I think Camera Eye off Moving Pictures was probably an attempt at a sequel to Natural Science.   Yet, as gorgeous as Camera Eye is, it simply doesn’t possess the power (more refined than raw) of Natural Science.

Kevin: Hear, hear! To all you gents for your wonderful reflections on this tremendous recording and its live cousin! Once again I’m late to the party–but with good reasons. 1)It’s recital time for the guitar studio, so my time is limited and 2) I plan to give a more complete treatment of this masterpiece on these Spirit of Cecilia pages in the coming days. However, to this already detailed commentary here, I would just like to add that, for me, Permanent Waves is the masterpiece and Moving Pictures is the unusually powerful sequel.

Lemme’ e’splain…no, there is too much, Lemme summup: It’s not only that without Permanent Waves there would be no Moving Pictures, though Erik’s observation is true enough. But it is precisely the beautifully blended nature of the artistry of Permanent Waves where its genius lies. 

Moving Pictures captured a nearly global audience; its themes of personal independence and encounters with modernity make it universally relatable in the global modern age. This combined with the new-found confidence the band discovered upon really breaking through to regular radio play, as Tad so rightly states. Furthermore, Exit…Stage Left followed quickly on MP’s heels right when MTV was just launching. The engaging live videos from these songs suddenly reached an enormously broad audience they might have otherwise missed in the times of the radio ghettos of the early eighties. Neil Peart stated many times that this was when Rush had found its sound.

And as much as I love that sound, it’s heavy: musically, thematically, and aurally. I miss the whimsy of their earlier recordings. Permanent Waves retains some of that whimsy both in its sound and in the lyrics. There is a personal touch found on the album that I sense as more intimate than on Moving Pictures.  That touch certainly returns on subsequent albums, but there is something magical about the combination of sounds and wonders on Permanent Waves. Brad notes in his own inimical style, the opening flurry of Spirit of Radio–it’s brilliant! Not only musically, but it’s a bright, shimmering sound—“a shifting shaft of shining.” And it shimmers throughout the album.

Here these young travelers are forging through completely new territory as a band. They don’t know exactly what they are doing or where they are going, but that’s the genius of it. The magic is created through the instincts of three musicians who have spent countless hours on the road together.  They’ve tried to carve their own sound, but have gotten lost in the trees (and the fountain of lamneth). Finally they arrive at this creative space with all of their skills and ideas intact and they simply let loose!


The resulting work of art resounds with the spirit of youth, the confidence of the road warrior, and the slight uncertainty of the as-yet unwise sage. It’s a joy to listen to and still has an incredible power, both spiritual and musical, after so many years. So Hear Hear!: To the boys in Morin-Heights in that Canadian autumn weaving the fabric of our dreams!

Brad: Kevin, what great thoughts.  So glad you joined the conversation.  It wouldn’t be a Rush conversation without you!  I very much look forward to your fuller thoughts on all this.

Tad: One last thing I’d like to add – I love the cover art for Exit…Stage Left! I think it is the first time Hugh Syme incorporated visual puns, and boy, this cover is packed with them. There are images from every previous Rush album, and when I first saw it I was like a kid in a candy store.

Gentlemen, thank you for your wonderful insights into Permanent Waves and Exit…Stage Left. I think most diehard Rush fans would agree that this period in the group’s long career was a peak. And, it was nice to see them finally break through to a much wider audience. They never looked back, did they?