Happy Summer, Spirit of Cecilia readers! In this post, our panel of music lovers takes a look back at two very popular and influential albums from the 1970s: Leftoverture and Point of No Return, by those proggers of the prairie, Kansas! Brad Birzer, Kevin McCormick, Carl Olson, and Tad Wert discuss what they love (and maybe not so love) about these works.

Brad: Carry on, my wayward sons!  The cry of my childhood.  Tad, thanks so much for setting this up.  I’m eager to talk all-things Kansas, especially Kansas in the mid 1970s.  As I’ve had the privilege of writing here and elsewhere, I grew up in central Kansas with two older brothers who collected prog.  My mom encouraged good reading and good music.  My earliest prog memory is of Yessongs, but Kansas and Jethro Tull rank up there.  Of course, growing up in Kansas, it would have been impossible to miss the band.  They were everywhere in the 1970s and proudly so.  As it is, “Carry On, My Wayward Sons” might have been the very first song–as a kid–whose lyrics I memorized.

On a side note, President Arnn of Hillsdale College once introduced me and said, “Carry on, my wayward son,” to which I responded, “Yes, Larry, there will be peace when you are done.”

On another side note, in 1950, the Knights of Columbus erected a huge cross commemorating the priesthood and exploration of Father Padilla.  My grandfather was one of the Knights at the installation ceremony.

A third side note.  Every Fourth of July celebration in my hometown of Hutchinson was always held at the State Fairgrounds and always included “Song for America”–despite it not being very pro-American lyrically–as a part of the soundtrack for the fireworks.

But back to Leftoverture.  I love the album.  It’s a personal favorite and really has been as far back as I can remember.  The interplay of bass, organ (well, moog and keyboards), and violin, I suppose, is the trademark of the band, and it’s done so expertly on this album.  And, Kerry Livgren, who wrote most of the tracks, was simply on fire as a composer.  The album as a whole flows so beautifully, and the lyrics are extraordinary.

Tad: I was a sophomore in high school when Leftoverture came out, and I remember listening to WKDF, Nashville’s “progressive rock radio” station, with my tape deck nearby. As soon as those opening chords of “Carry On, My Wayward Son” came over the airwaves, I hit Record! I still love that song – it’s something I will never tire of. 

Brad, I never imagined that Father Padilla was a real person! With a name like that, I figured he had to be part of the “Magnum Opus” tongue in cheek humor. Speaking of “Magnum Opus”, that is one of my favorite Kansas songs ever. You are right – the album has a perfect flow to it, and “Magnum Opus” is an excellent closer.

Leftoverture was my first exposure to Kansas – I bought that album not long after it came out, but it was years before I listened to any of their earlier ones. Song for song, it’s an incredibly strong offering. I know that Point of Know Return was a huge seller and more popular, but I will always like Leftoverture more.

Brad: Tad, Kansans are as proud of their state as Texans are; they’re just not as loud about it!  Yes, Kansans know Father Padilla.  So, it’s definitely a joke on the part of the band, Kansas, but, to be sure, an inside joke.

In my previous note, I only talked about Leftoverture, but I also love Point of Know Return.  “How long???  To the point of no return.”  

As a kid, this opening track completely and utterly sparked my imagination.  Exactly what was a journey, and what was a journey into unknown?  Now, of course, we have Interstates 35 and 70 that cross Kansas, as well as US281–all glorious highways.  But, connecting Point of No Return as the logical sequel to Leftoverature, one must wonder about the glories of exploration.  What about Cortes and Coronado?  

If Leftoverature ends with exploration of Father Padilla into central Kansas, Point of No Return is nothing if not exploration itself–to the farthest reaches of the globe.  Maybe even more importantly, to the farthest reaches of the very heart of the soul itself.  

“He was off on another plane. . . . no one was sure if he was sane . . . but he knew, he knew more than me or you.”

It must be noted, these lyrics were written long before Kerry Livgren converted to Christianity, but he so clearly longed for it.

I must also note, the best scene of the terribly bad hilarious movie Old School, involves Will Farrell singing “Dust in the Wind” at the funeral of Ol’ Blue.  Again, a terrible movie that I would never recommend, but one that made me laugh so much, I thought I was going to lose my stomach.

Carl: I also listened to both of these albums while in high school—in 1986 and 1987, specifically, which were my junior and senior years. I was first introduced to Kansas via the Best of Kansas compilation, which came out in 1984. Then I found these two and began to play them continuously (on cassette, of course!). The album Power came out in 1986, and I added that to my steady play routine; it introduced me to Steve Morse, which led to Dixie Dregs and Morse’s solo work. And 1988’s In the Spirit of Things is one of my favorite Kansas albums, despite some over production (by Bob Ezrin), as I’ve detailed here.

Kansas, as we all know, is the most famous and popular of the American prog-rock bands of the 1970s and ‘80s, and it is also almost completely dismissed or derided by the coastal critics. I won’t dwell on that point too much, but will note that this critical snobbishness is a bit strange as Kansas really eschewed the sort of pretentious noodling and overplaying that the same critics hated in groups such as Yes and ELP. Yes, Kansas—as these two albums readily demonstrate—composed and performed intricate and even rather epic instrumental passages (or even entire songs), but they were not, in my estimation, works for instrumental virtuosos, as none of the original band members could be fairly described as such. Rather, they were exceptional musicians who often played several instruments (Livgren on guitar and keys, Walsh on vocals, keys, and percussion, etc).

So, what sets them apart? There are many reasons, but I’ll just hone in on three that have really stood out to me over the years. 

First, the writing. Livgren (as Brad notes) was a brilliant writer and arranger, employing an eclectic mix of classic rock, Southern rock, and (quite essential in the big picture) classical motifs and structures. The violin of Robby Steinhardt was essential to the mix, not just tonally, but as an almost cinematic character that held together passages employing hard rock, organ flourishes and solos, and some odd time signatures. And Livgren was also a brilliant lyricist, whose journey from searcher and seeker to (c. 1980) born-again Evangelical Christian is captured throughout the first several Kansas albums. It is one reason that 1975’s Song for America is such a fascinating album (it is also, to my ears, the most “out there” of the Kansas albums, thus holding a special place in my heart).

And so, in Leftoverture (1976) and Point of Know Return (1977) we encounter much existential tension (“Dust in the Wind” is an obvious, but hardly solitary, example), ruminations on mortality and one’s place in the world (“Questions of My Childhood,” “Hopelessly Human” and “Nobody’s Home”), and a sort of romanticized nostalgia threaded through the needle of Native American perspectives, as in “Cheyenne Anthem” (the historicity of which I will leave to Brad!). 

A perfect example of this constant focus on meaning and place is the exceptional track “The Wall”, worth quoting in full here:

I’m woven in a fantasy, I can’t believe the things I see

The path that I have chosen now has led me to a wall

And with each passing day I feel a little more like something dear was lost

It rises now before me, a dark and silent barrier between

All I am and all that I would ever want to be

It’s just a travesty, towering, marking off the boundaries

My spirit would erase.

To pass beyond is what I seek, I fear that I may be too weak

And those are few who’ve seen it through to glimpse the other side
The promised land is waiting like a maiden that is soon to be a bride
The moment is a masterpiece, the weight of indecision’s in the air
It’s standing there, the symbol and the sum of all that’s me
It’s just a travesty, towering, blocking out the light and blinding me
I want to see

Gold and diamonds cast a spell, it’s not for me to know it well

The treasures that I seek are waiting on the other side

There’s more that I can measure in the treasure of the love that I can find

And though it’s always been with me

I must tear down the wall let it be

All I am, and all that I was ever meant to be, in harmony

Shining true and smiling back at all who wait to cross

There is no loss

That’s good stuff, as they say, and it also demonstrates something that separates Kansas from many other prog (and other) rock bands: while the songs grapple with big questions and existential tensions, they do not partake in cynicism, nihilism, or a flippant “who the hell cares?” posturing. They are sincere, and I think such sincerity (quite midWestern and very rooted, it seems to me) is not what the Left Coast types smoke or the East Coast elites drink. 

Secondly: the vocal prowess of Steve Walsh. The man, in his prime, had few equals. He possessed effortless power, beautiful tone, great control, impressive range, and (perhaps most underappreciated) emotional connectivity. He’s easy on the ears and people like his voice! As I think Livgren once put it, Walsh was a soul singer. He had vocal chops aplenty, but he did what all of the band members did (to their everlasting credit): he used them in service of the songs. He didn’t show off or “do his own thing”. Considering that Walsh is apparently, by many accounts, a rather difficult guy, that’s remarkable. And it makes sense he spent so much time itching to make solo records (which have ranged from strongly “okay” to strangely fascinating). His sound and style were perfectly suited to Livgren’s writings and lyrics; further, he and Robbie harmonized with perfect ease. It’s an instantly recognizable voice and yet, in some ways, an underrated voice.

Thirdly: speaking of underrated, let’s give some love to the Ehart-Hope rhythm section. The adjective “underrated” is used often when it comes to Ehart’s drumming, and for good reason. Like Walsh, he has plenty of chops, but always uses them in and for the song. He propels and accents Livgren’s instrumental passages with a marvelous efficiency (not a note too many) and elegance (not a note out of place). And his sound—the snare and toms comes immediately to mind—has aged really well. As for Dave Hope, he is a bit like John Deacon of Queen: nobody knows a thing about him (Hope would eventually be ordained an Anglican minister!), but he held things down perfectly, with a warm, sometimes “fat” sound (a bit like Chris Squire in places) that melded seamlessly with Ehart’s playing. And the two of them laid down some very involved passages in songs such “Carry on My Wayward Son,” “Miracles Out of Nowhere,” “Magnum Opus,” “Paradox,” and “Closet Chronicles.” But they are never in the way; they are always there to support, accent, and propel, which they nail again and again across these two albums.

A final thought, anecdotal in nature: in June 1987, fresh out of high school, I drove down to Phoenix (1262 miles), in my 1976 (!) Buick Skylark. For nearly the entire trip, I played these two albums. While the trip was exhausting (and increasingly hot as we approached Phoenix), I have wonderful memories of listening to Kansas while driving through beautiful country. The sometimes cinematic quality of the music, as well as the spiritual themes, perfectly matched the journey. Thank you, Kansas!

Kevin: For sure Carl! What immediately stands out on listening to these albums again is the tightness of the band, which involves the critical work of the rhythm section. Stop me if I’ve stood on this soapbox too many times, but what separates these “pre-digital era” performances is that the band is totally in the sonic pocket—not because the drummer has a computer clicking in his ears, but because he knows how to lay down a groove regardless of the meter.  These guys have a sense for themselves as a band. It doesn’t sound like egos competing for space, but a “band of gypsies” who know each other with their ears and their instruments.

I must confess that while I’ve heard plenty of both albums, I never actually owned either of them. My earliest memories of Leftoverture are of hearing the songs through the walls of my older brother’s bedroom in our St. Louis home.  Matt had a sophisticated album collection and eclectic tastes, most of which I imbibed vicariously. I was struck by Leftoverture’s complex counterpoint on tracks like “Miracles Out of Nowhere.” The tight vocal harmonies, the shifting meters and phrasing, virtuosic lead runs—all the stuff of classic prog—are infused with sensibilities and themes of the American West from which the band takes its moniker. 

Perhaps extending Carl’s point regarding the lyrics, these two albums both explore heavy themes with real personal connection. It’s not the detached, calculated prog of King Crimson, nor the whimsy of early Genesis. Truth be told, it has occasional hints of Queen’s Broadway bombast, but also their musical penchant for storytelling. One gets the flashing images of Steve Walsh decked out in tennis shorts and knee-high tube socks  illuminated on stage in a solitary spotlight with Kansas performing in the pit below him. Despite the potential for silliness here, it really works more often than not, because they are so committed to the music they are creating. 

Brad: After Carl’s and Kevin’s brilliant exposition about Kansas (and Tad’s love as well), there’s not much to add.  Again, being a Kansas native, I’ll always have (and always have had) a special affinity for the band.  A few years ago, the rockumentary, Miracles Out of Nowhere, came out, and I was completely floored by it.  I could so very much relate to the story of the band.

Over the last several days, a meme about driving across Kansas has appeared a couple of times on my various social media accounts.  The meme is a map of Kansas, with the route from Kansas City to Denver being marked as the most boring route in America.  Sadly, this is the way most people think about the state, and it’s the way many people think about the band.  Kansas is big sky country, and the people are the friendliest people imaginable.  I feel the same about the band–Kansas is big sky rock, and its people are some of the most interesting in the profession.

Miracles out of nowhere, indeed.