Tonight I'm a rock'n roll star: Oasis reviewed

Whatever...

Introduction

...or the band that saved rock'n roll in the doldrums of the grungefied 90's. Oh no, let's not get carried away here! Rock'n roll wasn't saved, if only for the fact that it didn't want to get saved, and as innovators they were simply good for nothing. But then again it's my firm belief that nothing essential has happened in music at all during the last 20 years, and I doubt that it ever will. The thing is though, like it or not, that Oasis was indeed a quintessential band, both as a timestamp for the britpop era and as a personal initiation to contemporary music, being the first up-to-date band I cut my teeth on as an musically aspiring teenager (well past the initiation to Beatles). Thus, I can't help but having an almost uniquely ambivalent stance on them; On one hand I definitely acknowledge all of their shortcomings as a band, not least the Gallagher brothers' perpetual-but-failed ambition to one-up the Beatles, but on the other hand they did teach me to play guitar (figuratively speaking, of course) as well as the importance of being a fanboy (ironically speaking, of course).

This however, has led to a heavy tilt toward the first half of their catalogue in terms of impression, since I all but totally lost interest in them toward the turn of the century, only to ever so slightly re-acquaint their works in recent years. That means that however objectively I try to dissect their first three albums, I cannot escape the soft spot I still retain for all of them since they were integral parts of my teenhood. It also means that however much I try to integrate the latter part of their discography into my all-encompassing knowledge about them, these later albums will all the while remain relatively distant in my mind. Not that it should matter that much though, since their commercial peak indeed lasted during the second half of the 90's and to this day whenever anyone is asked about his/her knowledge about them, I bet you ten to one that the answer will be "Wonderwall".

That's not to say that their latter records should be dismissed or anything. On the contrary, at least one of them is at least as worthy as their holy duality from the mid-90's, and their two latest albums are definitely way above their relative artistic blunder "Be here now". I will tell you this though: Oasis are but the sum of exactly two components, i.e. the raspy voice of Liam and the derivative but ultimately successful songwriting of Noel, and I dare say that everything else about the band, including Noel's guitar playing, is more or less completely dispensable. Therefore I claim that all of their output should be judged by these things and these things alone, although I'm not gonna hold that against them or anything; there are a lot worse examples of successful bands during the last 20 years that cannot even boast that. And even Noel himself apparently didn't think that much of his bandmates, virtually single-handedly taking it upon himself to provide the band with freshly written material (or even more accurately; providing himself with a backing band in order to perform his freshly written material).

Now, with the virtue of hindsight, I still reckon him a worthy songwriter as well as Liam being the quintessence of a snotty-nosed indiepop-gone-huge singer (along with Damon Albarn, although the latter sounded more adequate in his sarcastic tone). The problem with him and Oasis as a whole, is that they didn't know shit about arrangements, and neither did their producer or anyone even remotely involved with the production process. I suppose some of you know the infamous story of how "(What's the story) Morning glory" heralded the way of the so-called 'loudness war', with a brickwall production where the sound peaked at every possible point it should and shouldn't peak, leaving no room for dynamics and aural rest. Maybe it's a product of the times, but fact is that most of their albums are horribly produced and it's clearer than ever now that if not for the actual songwriting and the profilic vocal delivery, they would remain close to unlistenable. That, along with their aforementioned inability to arrange the songs in an intriguing manner, can make even the best of their albums a tiresome listen. Most of the songs are stitched together in the simplest possible way, starting with a predictable verse-chorus-verse-chorus pattern and ending with an endless rehashing of the core stanza, something which was taken to its abominable peak on "Be here now" on which every next song is twice as long as it should be.

So with all this in mind, everything Oasis is all about is suspended in the songs themselves and the main judgement of them, positive or negative, are therefore based on the quality of the melodies. As luck would have it, there are a lot of them and curiously enough, Noel was quite a productive songwriter, yielding a lot of tracks that didn't even end up on the regular albums but rather on B-sides, some of which surfaced on the "Masterplan" collection. And some of the 'lesser' album tracks themselves are well worth your attention, all contributing to the album as a unit rather than just being filler padding out the spaces between the hit songs, something which in turn separates the novelty acts from the big names in the business. And say what you will, Oasis is one of them.

Aaaa-aaa-aaah, aaa-aaa-aaah, AAA-AAA-AAAH!!!

Introduction

If there ever was a band that embodied the word 'inconsistency', then it has to be Deep Purple. Over their career, spanning over 40 years to date, they are responsible for both some of the greatest and worst yields in the metal field, as well as probably the biggest resumé of involved members. Now, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm above the common notion that it is the mark II lineup that came together at first in 1969 (and lasted a whole 4 years) that is the most revered and arguably the best, but that doesn't mean that they weren't worthy at any other point in their career even if taken together, they have sucked more than they have not over the years. I mean, Ritchie Blackmore may have been a total asshole but he was a guitar genius, although his judgement of musical partners has been questionable. Yes, he did cooperate with Ian Gillan and Ronnie James Dio (in Rainbow though), but he also took morons like David Coverdale, Glenn Hughes and Joe Lynn Turner under his wings which has severely affected his own total to his disadvantage, and don't get me started on that medieval crap he's been indulged in for the last 15 years. Oh well, he's a man of integrity and I guess we'll have to respect him for that. And by all means, he is right about Gillan not being able to sing anymore.

But Purple isn't just Blackmore; when at their absolute peak they were an unstoppable machine of five prime units and I dare say that onstage they blew all competition away, including Who and Zeppelin, because if anything, they cared for professionalism. Up until the breakup of mkII in 1973, they all were virtuosos on their respective instrument, especially Blackmore, Jon Lord and Ian Paice, and they put it to good use in their special brand of early heavy metal-with-an-organ-in-it. The organ meant that they had two lead instruments on full frontal display when needed and Lord, classically trained as he was, added that extra touch of baroque modality in his ultra-fast runs that their contemporaries simply lacked. (And no, Uriah Heep could never hope to reach up to their level despite the organ, not that they ever tried though). And for one other thing, they also provided speed; they could play faster than just about anyone, which they did, albeit never in absurdum (and thusly, they invented speed and power metal which is a minus, but as always, great bands are often bad influences). Look no further than "Speed king" (indeed!), "Fireball" and "Flight of the rat" for proof, not to mention the lengthy live rendition of "Space truckin'". Where Jimmy Page would occasionally jam his fingers during fast runs, Blackmore would fire off his arpeggios as fluently as ever. And on top of that (or under, whichever you prefer) Ian Paice would relentlessly drive the whole thing forward with an ingenious accuracy and a feel for swing rarely matched in the heavy rock scene ever since. An yeah, Gillan and Roger Glover did their thing as well.

But good things rarely last long; further into the 70's disaster struck as the mkII lineup split up and the mkIII took over, thusly bringing David Coverdale and Glenn Hughes onto the scene. Purple turned into a bland funk outfit releasing some of the most obnoxious music they ever made, and I've got all the reason to believe that noone is to blame for that but that fake buffoon Hughes, trying to pass himself on as Stevie Wonder's half-brother or something. I hate him and that's that. Coverdale may be but a vain son-of-a-whore, but back then he was mainly an insecure and easily affectable rascal trying to fit in, and I dare say that some of the early Whitesnake stuff is quite decent as well (at least compared to the mid-70's Purple). After recruiting Blackmore's replacement Tommy Bolin, realizing he couldn't play worth a damn and firing him wherupon he overdosed and died, Purple called it a day in 1976. In 1984 the mkII members decided it was time for reuniting for a couple of records before breaking down again, whereupon they hired the fruitcakeish Joe Lynn Turner, broke up, reunited mkII-point-three, fought backstage, got rid of Blackmore (or vice versa), not realising Gillan had lost his voice, hired the redneckish Steve Morse, got rid of Lord (or vice versa), still not realising Gillan had lost his voice, hired Rainbow graduate Don Airey and what they're doing right now I haven't got the slightest clue. Well, whatever keeps them off the streets, I guess. At least, Paice has got an excuse for touring music shops around the world with his drum clinics.

So as you can see, there has been a whole lot going on in the Purple camp over the years, and for most of the time nothing good has come out of it. But most of the stuff they did up until 1972 more than weighs up for whatever they did thereafter, and I do mean some of the mkI output as well, especially their eponymous third album. And whatever may be, "Deep Purple in rock" is and will always be one of my top metal albums of all time, and that alone really accounts for something.

Seasons will pass you by: Yes reviewed

Call it morning driving through the sound and in and out the valley

Introduction

Yes, oh yes! I suppose you all know the band that had a hit with "Owner of a lonely fart" and thus helped write the 80's into the history books as the most obnoxious period in modern history. I also suppose that you know that before all that, they epitomized the infamous progressive rock movement with ridiculously sprawling and overblown epics, lasting for eternities and thus could make even the most good-natured pop-loving (or headbangning) soul throw beer bottles at whoever had the nerve of queuing snorefests like "Close to the edge" at the party. Now, I'm not gonna play the fool and pretend that they're not among my all-time favourite bands, up there with Beatles, Who and Zeppelin, because they are, and I'm not apologizing for it one bit! That in turn, however, doesn't mean that I don't spot their flaws, potential as well as actual. First of all, they ruined the 80's (or the 80's ruined them, but most accurately it was Trevor Rabin that ruined them both) with the aforementioned piece of crap that to this day seem to be one of the few artefacts that remain in people's conciousness. But that's not really surprising since, as any good prog band of the 70's, they fell victim of the times and just had to reset their course in order to survive the acid test of punk and new wave, so they cannot really be held responsible for that. The asshole guitarist Trevor Rabin can though, since the relative success of Asia, in which their former axeman Steve Howe resided at the time, cannot be explained lest one takes a little time to scorn that Rabin dude for capitalizing on the musical values of the 80's.

Enough about the 80's though, it's for the glory days of topographic oceans Yes should be remembered, and through the course of 1971-77 they released some of the finest prog rock ever created by five disorganized hippies that hardly could even remember what they had been playing an hour ago. They may have been formulaic in that they constantly strived for making even longer, even more complicated songs, awash in rapid-fire guitar lines on courtesy of Steve Howe, soaring mellotrons and intergalactic synthesizers on courtesy of Rick Wakeman, otherworldly bass riffs on courtesy of Chris Squire, incomprehensible but angelic vocals of Jon Anderson and swirling vocal harmonies on courtesy of them all. Oh, and Bill Bruford and Alan White on drums, they're alright too. See, their lineup changed almost constantly, sort of stabilizing itself around the quartet of Anderson, Howe, Squire and Wakeman and a shift between the two mentioned drummers around 1973. But they took that formula as far as it could possibly go (before thousands of crappy neo-prog acts started to abuse it to death from the 90's onward) while still fresh and exciting. The one thing I believe is their main schtick that made them unique is their ability to drag you through various musical landscapes, partly accompanied by the marvellous cover artworks of Roger Dean (who also designed their famous logotype) as well as the imaginative lyrics, and end the whole journey in a sheer climax absolutely overflowing with emotion. When they were at the top of their game, this is what they did best.

Now, I can easily understand why people don't like them, even disregarding the fact that they made looooong songs, which is an argument I simply don't buy as the same people don't seem to have any problems with live Zeppelin (in whose extented songs there is but a tenth as much going on as in any given Yes epic), Pink Floyd (in which there is but a tenth as much going on in even some of the normal-length songs, not least overrated crap like "Comfortably numb") or even your average modern-day stoner behemoth (in which there isn't anything going on at all). No, the problem may as well be that Yes were indeed dead serious about what they were doing. Just about any of the other major prog acts of the era, be it Genesis, ELP or Jethro Tull, all had that humorous side to them which shined through on their albums musically and/or lyrically. Yes meant business and you just have to dig in to their dedicated face-value sincerity or you won't have a chance of 'getting' them. Furthermore, they took good care of fucking up their often very pretty melodies with sudden shifts in tempo, harmony, arrangement, structure, whatever, and thus rendering them quite inaccessible for the average listener. Once again you'll have to dig in to the general approach of prog rock in which you're supposed to tweak the traditional values, and either you 'get' that very approach and enjoy the fact that they pulled all the stops to expand the horizons of what could be done with a seemingly simple melodic stanza given enough imagination, or you don't get it in which case you might as well stick to your "Dark side of the moon" and continue to play the part of the artful stoner.

Well, as for the seriousness, I'd say: The Who cares? If I want a laugh I'll go and listen to Ween (or "Harold the Barrel"), and I don't see how it could ever be held against them that they actually mean what they play (even if the stream-of-conciousness lyrics of Jon Anderson may be seen as ridiculous, but I don't have to share his vision to the bone in order to appreciate it). And the fucking-up-of-the-melodies is just their thing, and I for one think that it's nice to have something to chew on that can grow upon you over time instead of having an onslaught of hookey hooks that wear off upon the tenth listen. In fact, the 'inaccessible' passages help to balance out the more direct ones, and often make the latter even more emotional and climactic in their beauty (case in point: The "Soon" part of "Gates of delirium") where more simple-minded art bands like Pink Floyd just threshed on in the same pentatonic key throughout their epics. What I'm trying to say is that Yes takes some time to get used to, but in the end, if the stars are aligned, you will eventually be rewarded with some of the most fantastiwastic art rock ever magnetized on tape. Sort of a high-stake stock share.

Like I said, they were as bad in the 80's as they were good in the 70's, but I wouldn't really blow my horn for their most recent 20 years either even if one has to give them props for not only reuniting but actually continuing making new music which thusly affirms their place in the same league as Rolling Stones and the Genesis-less Peter Gabriel. On the other hand it's not that exciting, since what they're actually doing is more or less the same thing that all those neo-prog bands are doing, albeit somewhat more justified since Yes were among the originators after all. Their most recent move is questionable though, as Jon Anderson has decided to indulge in some kind of solo performance venture and the other guys hired a dude they found on YouTube to stand in for him. Well, at least it means that they're still alive and kickin' and might as well stop by a town near you for an aural treat, even if it means that you'll have to endure the sight of an ageing Steve Howe, looking as hideous today as he looked cool in the 70's.

They hold no quarter: Led Zeppelin reviewed

The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands

Introduction

What is there left to say about the band that invented the 70's and ruined the 80's, 90's and 00's, that still is to be said? Well, apart from the fact that they were and still is a main pillar in my own perception of music in general and heavy metal in particular. Now, the term 'heavy metal' is as ambivalent as it's ridiculous, what with all the debate of wether or not metal was invented by The Kinks or Cream or Metallica or Cannibal Corpse, so let's just state the objective fact: Led Zeppelin pioneered heavy rock from the very beginning, but let's not forget that they were always above this their most infamous objective, never afraid of plunging into folk, prog and even synth-pop on occasion. They were also something of a 'supergroup', with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones already being seasoned musicians in their own right at the time of the commence of the starship. This, along with the extraordinary capabilities of Robert Plant and John Bonham, also meant that they were highly professional, not at all afraid of showing off on stage in lengthy improvisations, even if the ultimate yield may have been quite hit-and-miss in terms of listenability. And they did indeed embody the 70's as well as the image of the quintessential rock band (alongside The Who and Rolling Stones), which has since gone into legend, not least through films like "This is Spinal Tap" and "Almost famous".

Nothing of this matters of course, at least not when it comes to the actual music which is an issue all by itself. Metal or not, their output is mainly suspended in the guitarworks of Pagey, inventing one classy riff after another, albeit not all of them heavy; there are a lot of equally classy acoustic works to be found in their catalogue which tip their hats to the folk tradition he was deeply into throughout their career. But let's not forget the immortal vocal gymnastics of Percy, crowning the songs with his almost superhuman wailings, and the mighty poundings of Bonzo, relentlessly driving the behemoth forward with an untiring force unsurpassed in modern drumming history. Now, not to go overboard with the praisings (that all the same where firmly embedded in my conciousness from the very beginning of my fandom), they all had their limitations in all of their show-off...ness (is that a word?).

Pagey, good as he is, was a very limited songwriter, often rehashing old blues standards with less-than-satisfactory results that just don't work out that well on the albums. And sometimes he is just goddamn sloppy, cranking out the riffs at lightning-speed seemingly without a care in the world for the ensuing results, something his heroin-addiction may or may not have been a part in during the latter half of the 70's. Percy, good as he is, sometimes just goes overboard in his yearning for pussy, on occasion sounding like he's having a wank right in front of the mike and in the process totally loses trace of the main melody. On stage it works better though, because there you're supposed to throw a fit of an orgasm. And Bonzo, good as he was, just isn't that inventive on his drums, often resorting to his renowned hyperspeed triplets during his showcase "Moby Dick" (and I do think that the outtake "Bonzo's Montreaux" is a whole lot more entertaining as a percussion piece), and even when he restricts himself to straightforward beats, he often end up quite single-minded in his brontosauric approach, yielding some rather unfitting results on softer tracks which could have called for more subtelty. He had the drive for sure, but not the subtle swing, as opposed to fellow drummers Ian Paice or Mitch Mitchell for instance.

And Jonesy then, good as he is. There's a reason why I didn't mention his capabilities earlier, and that's simply because over time he has turned out to be my favourite of the four, not least since he didn't display that desperate need to show off all the time. He's just the most sensible and talented member, not only due to his bass guitar works which may not be that outstanding but on the other hand always appropriate. He's also responsible for all the keyboard works on their albums, in the studio as well as on stage, often pulling a Ray Manzarek and abandons the bass in favour of a Hammond organ, a Rhodes or a Mellotron, and thus ends up bringing quite a prog-ish flavour to some of their grandest songs like "No quarter", "The rain song" and "Kashmir". In addition to all that, he is no slouch on mandolin when needed and to top it all off he is responsible for many an arrangement on the albums, something for which he was often revered even before Zeppelin.

So, there you have it. One of the greatest and most overrated bands known to man, with all their flaws and benefits on full display from the word go. I do find it hard to pinpoint their peak, in contrast to most people who seem to go for their untitled fourth album at gunpoint, but I can't help but feel that they never really nailed a complete masterpiece like, say, "Deep Purple in rock"; there are just too many throwaway tracks on each and everyone of them. On the other hand, I do believe that they maintained a relatively high level of quality all the way through the out door, so to speak, and I may be alone to think that their last studio album contains just as much good music as their second album, for instance. And, apart from Beatles, I seriously cannot think of any other major band that never released a truly bad album throughout their career.

In the land of grey and pink: Caravan reviewed

Where but for Caravan would I?

Introduction

Caravan is probably my main candidate for being the nicest bunch of artsy dudes of the prog movement in the early 70's. Their output simply reeks of sunshine and you can't go wrong with just about any of their records for breakfast as the start of a much better day than it would have been otherwise. For some reason they seem to have been overlooked, not only among the general public (as always) but in the art/prog community as well and that's really a shame. Because not only were they there from the very beginning, releasing their first album even before King Crimson had the chance of blowing our minds with their apocalyptic chops. They were also a force to be reckoned with among the other giants of the era and, taken as a whole, their output is actually far more even than most prog bands.

True, that sort of vouches for mediocrity and I admit that nothing in their catalog ever really woos me over like, say, "Close to the edge" does, but on the other hand Caravan has actually pulled off the feat of having virtually no serious duffer on any of their records (bar a couple of tracks which I'll get back to in due time, but who's perfect besides Columbo?). Pye Hastings proved to be quite a songwriter and combined with his thin and shakey voice he sort of underlined Caravan as one of the most perfect implementations of a white-ass nerd band not having neither the capabilities nor aspirations to rock the house down and get into girl's knickers (figuratively speaking of course, and being a white-ass nerd myself I mean that in a positive way).

As you all know they began in a local band called The Wilde Flowers together with to-be-members of Soft Machine, and were one main force in the so-called Canterbury scene. That term alone won't reveal much though and apart from the organ and some jazzy passages Caravan really didn't have anything in common with the fellow Canterbury colleagues musically. Their approach were just as much lush pop as it was jazz-tinged prog rock and in stature I'd say it's more appropriate to compare their music to baroque-influenced bands like Procol Harum and Zombies rather than the progressive contemporaries like Yes and Genesis. But they sure could prog out when they wanted to; They have several tricky songs as well as multi-part epics in their backpack and I believe they are definitely the best of the Canterbury bunch. Later on they more or less abandoned the prog route and went for the pure baroque pop sound instead, which they stuck with until they disbanded in the late 70's.

Lineup then: Pye Hastings - guitar and vocals, Dave Sinclair - keyboards, Richard Sinclair - bass guitar, Richard Coughlan - drums. That's basically what you need to know although some member changes took place down the line, with Hastings being the only consistent member together with Coughlan as his trusty sidekick.

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Oh, and after the band broke up, Pye Hastings would go on to become a successful talkshow host.

The endless enigma: Emerson, Lake & Palmer reviewed

Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends!

Introduction

The first thing you'll ever learn about these guys is that they were the first 'supergroup' of the proggern hemisphere. Who cares? You have to be above average to get a visa into that district anyway, because if you're not you'll end up in Uriah Heep. The second thing is that they made their living on hyper-fast semi-classical excourses on anything equipped with ivories, preferrably connected to sci-fi modulators (courtesy of Keith Emerson), hyper-fast machine gun drumming on anything equipped with a skin (courtesy of Carl Palmer) and suspiciously mellow folk balladry about anything equipped with a vagina (courtesy of Greg Lake). Every now and then though, they got together around lengthy pieces aspiring to one-up just about any modern classical composer in existence and in the process came up with some of the finest prog epics known to man. You see, this is one band where prog intiation is all but obligatory for anyone to have a decent chance to get into, and I don't really think that anyone with much more humble taste would have that much need for Lake's ballads alone. Not that they are bad or anything, quite the opposite, but we'll get to that in due time.

Anyhoo, they got together as a result of Keith Emerson's, freshly out of The Nice, ambition to expand the boundaries of three-piece bands in 1970. He teamed up with bass player/guitarist/singer Greg Lake, who was right in the midst of recording "In the wake of Poseidon" with King Crimson but decided ELP was a better shot, and drum ace Carl Palmer who was to be found in Atomic Rooster (which you by the way really should check out; Art metal began here and not with Uriah Cheap) as well as being an Arthur Brown graduate. And I'm gonna take the opportunity to debunk a widespread myth here; Hendrix was not considered as a fourth member (which would have yielded the abbreviation "HELP") since Emerson was keen on preserving the trio format from the very beginning, and I've got at least one fairly recent in-depth interview with Carl Palmer in a magazine to back it up. From the very beginning they pulled all the stops on their live performances with Emerson straddling his Hammond organ the same way that Hendrix straddled his guitar, making it scream and moan with feedback and all kinds of unholy noices, occasionally crowning it all with daggers between the keys. Trust me, you gotta see it if you haven't already! What he should be revered for though, is his classically tinged finger-flashing over the whole thing. He could pull out just about anything from his sleeve, from rag-time barroom piano to Bach-fugues at the speed of light. Of course, he had already made a name for himself in The Nice, but it was in ELP it rose to the sky really. And don't forget his toying with all those Moog synthesizers which he actually helped develop with Bob Moog himself at the time.

Obviously the center of attention, but do not forget that he was backed up by one of the finest rythm sections in prog as well. Carl Palmer may not be the fastest drummer in the world, but he sure is the fastest drummer I know of that simultaneously could swing and deliver something more than just robotic noice. After all, he took his inspiration from such giants as Buddy Rich, didn't he? And then Greg Lake, a great bass player in his own rights who on occasion had to switch to guitar to fill in the gaps, and on top of that crowned the songs with one of the best voices in rock. Bombastic but yet humane and delicate. Listen to what he does on tracks like "The great gates of Kiev" and compare it with "The sage" or "Living sin". Talk about versatility! And he was also responsible for the more melodic and accessible elements of ELP's output and all of their albums sports at least one stripped-down acoustic ballad on courtesy of him.

So there, the scene is set. Now what? Full frontal prog that managed to write itself into the history books as one of the most bloated, self-indulgent, escessive and pretentious acts of the whole movement. That's what the critics will tell you wether they like it or not, but that's not the whole picture. They were never strangers to silly little send-ups (or the aforementioned acoustic stuff) either, to spice up the flow on their albums and those who claim that progsters took themselves much too seriously have obviously missed out on songs like "Benny the bouncer". Of course, none of the occasional detours would overshadow their main schtick which was the grandiose epics and Emerson's lengthy keyboard excesses. But that's alright with me, because they are among the greatest epics and keyboard excesses ever captured on magnetic tape. I just don't want you to forget they were much more multi-faceted than they normally get credit for.

As is the case with many prog acts though, their heydays didn't quite survive the post-prog environment and they didn't exactly end it with a bang either towards the end of the decade. They have occasionally reunited to release stuff from the mid-80's and onward but I'm not familiar with that part of their career. Up until the mid-70's though, they were stratospheric and you may lov'em or hate'em but you gotta give'em their due for not giving a damn. Roll up, roll up! See the show!

Easy livin': Uriah Heep reviewed

Stranger than the sunrise, darker than the night

Introduction

Very 'eavy and not at all 'umble, Uriah Heep were the fourth of the 'big three' in the first generation of heavy metal (and if you don't know which three, go straight to prison, don't collect $50!). They are by no means my favourite band, not even in the hard rock genre, but there once was a period of time during which they were. And in retrospect it's not that hard to see why. See, they were there from the very beginning, 1969 and onward, so obviously they must be the real deal, right? And they rocked just as hard as any metal act of the era with their uncompromising thumping anthems which vouched for some serious headbanging, right? And they did this in total harmony with bombastic melodies and artsy arrangements, sometimes bordering on symphonic prog which surely satisfied even the slightly more intelligent listener, right?

Well, not quite. See, Uriah Heep are essentially a dumb band, something which I definitely would not acknowledge way back when I propagated to my friends the awesomeness of "Demons & wizards". That's not to say they were that dumb themselves, but there are three main issues about them that prevent me from taking them very seriously these days. First, they were very limited in songwriting, often laid in the lap of keyboardist Ken Hensley, both from the perspective of a riff-based metal band as well as a melody-based art band. When I think about it, there are very few classic riffs to be found in their catalogue, and none of them are particularily profound unless you count their patented primitive powerchord sequences, established from the very beginning in "Gypsy". And the melodies, albeit slightly better, tend to be equally primitive and repetitive even on the numbers that aim for a higher goal, like "July morning" although this was the schtick they eventually would expand on the most until they degenerated into a bland soft-rock act in the late 70's.

Second, they were inadequate; All of them were decent instrumentalists, but none of them were really able to match some of the ambitions they set up for themselves on the more bombastic numbers (warning example: "The magician's birthday"). Instead they often ended up proving themselves unable to rise above the caveman approach in their lack of chops. And all those tales of wizards and demons and mystery tales and spider women and pilgrims were never backed up by any true substance. You're welcome to prove me wrong, but in the process of showing off their highly superficial literacy they more or less single-handedly invented the whole D&D imagery that to this day has infested heavy metal in general, all through the warriors of power metal, the satanic priests of black metal and the flesh-eating bacteria of death metal. So I gotta give them that; Thanks alot guys, for making generations of kids taking metal too seriously! Really thoughtful of you! In their defence though, Hensley openly admitted that "Demons & wizards" was just "a collection of songs which they had a really good time recording".

Third, they were - and this is the main factor which both of these abovementioned factors are derived from - dumb. This is probably something they were quite aware of themselves, which is why they from time to time allowed themselves a primitive but playful barroom rocker to which you could chug your beer. I admit that this is their most adequate approach and some of the tracks that falls into this category work just fine ("Love machine", "Easy livin'", "Spider woman" etc.) but however adequate in its own field, I still loath this whole approach. See, as differed from the mysticism, it boosted the cock-rock part of the metal community and this is maybe even worse. Anyone participating in clearing the ground for Aerosmith and Kiss, not to mention the hair metal of the 80's, has to be scorned for that. And this third factor is the main foundation of their fanbase, swallowing the bait of artsiness in order to persuade itself of being slightly more intelligent than yer average headbanger, something that the Heepsters have in common with Queen by the way.

But as I said, I used to like them a lot and I still somewhat do, because if I didn't, I wouldn't take all this time to theorize about them. True to what I said above, I reckon them as somewhat groundbreaking in their approach and however bad they were as influences, they were still good in their own right (good bands are often bad influences). Even if they surely rocked hard, I still think their main attraction during the classic years is the often successful simplistic bombast, at least when it's backing up a profound melody, and their harmonies simply cannot be beat. They are sometimes deemed as a 'poor man's Deep Purple", although I feel that is an unfair comparisation. Apart from the organ, which besides always were more prominent in Heep, they had little in common with Purple, much less Sabbath although some of Heep's more laid-back numbers bore some resemblance of Zeppelin in folksy mode. But all in all, Heep sure had an original sound which, as I hinted above, sort of pinoeered the use of opera-tinged bombast which Queen would expand on later on. And they have their fair share of good, and even awesome, songs as well. Just remember to never ever take their lyrics into account.

So, with the beneficial stand of a deeply rooted acquintance combined with a notably more critical view induced by time, consider these reviews as me washing my hands of both the undeserved scorn and the uncalled for praise for the arguably fourth best metal band of all time.