THE RISING STORM

Kaleidoscope was one of England’s purest and most beloved psychedelic bands.  Prior to their ventures into psychedelia, Kaleidoscope had been known as The Sidekicks and then, The Key.  These groups played a rather ordinary brand of British pop and R&B.  Kaleidoscope debuted in 1967 with their fabulous Tangerine Dream LP.  This disc featured some of the finest psychedelia England had produced up to that point.  More than half the album is fleshed out with lost classics; check out trippy tracks such as ”Please Excuse My Face,” “Dive Into Yesterday,” “Flight From Ashiya,” “The Murder of Lewis Tullani,” “Mr. Small, The Watch Repairer Man,” and the superb “Further Reflections In The Room Of Percussion.”  Many of these cuts are on par with the best of Pink Floyd’s early work.  Kaleidoscope was making imaginative music featuring plenty of interesting chord progressions, jangley guitars, bizarre lyrics, and smart production trickery.  Much of the rest of Tangerine Dream is very good too, but sales and critical recognition stiffed due to the adventurous nature of the group’s music.

Faintly Blowing (Fontana) came out sometime later, in 1969.  While it may lack some of the key album cuts that made Tangerine Dream so special, Faintly Blowing is consistently strong and features influences as diverse as folk and hard rock.  Some of the highlights include “Poem,” a soft folk track similar to “Please Excuse My Face,” the phased out hard rocker “Music” and the edgy psychedelic title cut.  Abrasive numbers “Snapdragon” and “Love Song From Annie” represent Kaleidoscope’s new hard rock approach while still retaining the group’s clever edge – these cuts are both gems.  Some songs’ lyrics, like that on the tuneful folk-rocker “A Story From Tom Blitz,” deal with morals and important life lessons to be learned.

The music on Faintly Blowing is a bit more professional sounding, lacking the reckless energy and psychedelic feel of the debut.  But make no mistake, this is a very good album full of sharp ideas, fairytale lyrics, fine songcraft and pretty vocals.  If you’re intrigued by psychedelic, progressive or folk sounds, this disc is not to be missed.

Faintly Blowing (1969)

mp3: Faintly Blowing
mp3: Poem

Tangerine Dream (1967)

mp3: (Further Reflections) In The Room Of Percussion

CD Reissue | 2005 | Repertoire | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Fontana | search ebay ]

For a long time I wondered why four guys from the musical wellhead that was late ‘60s San Fran set out to sound like a swamp’n’roll band from the backwoods of Louisiana, whilst accepting as perfectly natural that five young long-haired white boys from London, England should have bust their guts to emulate a black 1950s Chicago bar band. Eventually I stopped wondering and started trying to pin down why this album has remained Creedence’s most underestimated, least discussed collection, despite coming closest to the ideal they sought. Not that it didn’t sell; just that nobody ever seems to mention it till near the end of a CCR conversation, if at all. And at the time of writing it’s running a distant fourth in The Rising Storm’s Creedence discography uReview vote.

The undeniable ability of John Fogerty’s outfit to produce immaculate three-minute power-pop singles shines throughout CCR’s oeuvre, from “Suzie Q” to “Sweet Hitch Hiker”. But this album finds the band stretching out on what is to all purposes a live stage set performed in the studio: raw and honest, high energy, no discernable overdubs. The three long, sweaty, riffing jams – “Born On The Bayou”, “Graveyard Train” and “Keep On Chooglin’” – and the shorter but similar “Bootleg” get as close as CCR ever did to the authentic swamp-rock of Tony Joe White. On the mandatory classic rock’n’roll cover “Good Golly Miss Molly” John does what Paul McCartney did on the Fabs’ version of “Long Tall Sally”: his eviscerating vocal simply leaves the original for dead. “Proud Mary” is the hit single, but despite its prettiness it’s the weakest cut on the album, as the pace and energy level dip temporarily. The real surprise, and true gem, of the whole collection is “Penthouse Pauper”, an uncharacteristic twelve-bar blues on which both John’s voice and his Telecaster are fit to strip wallpaper.

The straightforward, no-frills nature of Creedence’s music enabled them to record and release an astonishing six albums in two-and-a-half years, from July 1968 to December 1970. (Think on that, Coldplay.) Whilst on an extended vacation in western Canada in 2007 I got to talk to and play with a number of young musicians who weren’t born till years after these albums came out. I was surprised to find that CCR was right up there as one of their favourite acts to cover. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised: the simple but irresistable songs, the natural, unaffected guitar sound and that unique banshee voice have a genuinely timeless quality.

mp3: Born on the Bayou
mp3: Penthouse Pauper

CD Reissue | 2008 | Fantasy | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Fantasy | search ebay ]
MP3 Download | at amazon ]

You could say Timebox got a pretty fair deal out of life when compared to other bands we feature here in these pages.  They had a top 40 hit with the Four Seasons’ “Beggin’,” are represented by two terrific cd reissues and their story has been told countless times by all the serious rock n roll magazines/fanzines (Record Collector, Mojo, Shindig, and Ugly Things).   Timebox’s roots lay in the Take 5, a group who came from Southport, England (near Liverpool) and featured talented drummer/guitarist/vibraphonist Peter (Ollie) Halsall.

The group’s classic lineup didn’t really stabilize until early 1968.  By that time Timebox looked something like this: Mike Patto (lead vocals), Ollie Halsall (guitar, vibes and vocals), Chris Holmes (keyboards), Clive Griffiths (bass), and John Halsey (drums).  Prior to these personnel shifts Timbox had released three 45s in 1967.  Piccadilly issued the first two 45s which were largely instrumental efforts but in the cheerful Swingin’ London style.  The A-side of the first 45, ”I’ll Always Love You,” was an excellent pop-soul number, similar in style to the early Action or Small Faces – in other words real mod pop.  In late 67 the group switched over to Deram and released one of the jewels in their crown, a superb cover of Tim Hardin’s “Don’t Make Promises” backed by the soulful acid pop of “Walking Through The Streets Of My Mind.”  Timebox’s version of “Don’t Make Promises” was rather special in that Ollie Halsall played sitar and vibes; the song was dramatically rehauled into something imaginative.  The next single was Timebox’s run at the big time.  “Beggin’” topped out at 38, their highest chart entry by some distance but it was again, a great remake of the Four Seasons classic.

By this time the Patto/Halsall songwriting partnership had began to solidify into something productive.  The group began crafting records that were both experimental but also radio friendly.  Timebox needed a hit 45 for survival.  Their next Deram release was a baroque soul pop number titled “Girl, Don’t Make Me Wait.”  While this track was respectable enough,  it was the brilliant, swirling psychedelia of the B-side that caught my attention most.  “Gone Is The Sad Man” is comparable to a really good track off the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour: dense, tripped out psych rock.  This single stiffed as did Timebox’s next two Deram releases.  The best of these were “Baked Jam Roll In Your Eye/Poor Little Heartbreaker.”  The A-side was another slice of skewed psychedelia that recounts the tale of two dozen martians who are led by Galloping Klaus (a German martian?).  It’s flip side edged comfortably toward classic rock and is a fine slice of metallic angst.

After so many failures Timebox finally broke up around 1969/1970.  Out of the ashes of Timebox came Patto, the great progressive rock outfit formed by Mike Patto and Ollie Halsall.  Timebox is usually remembered as a table setter for Patto, who would release 3 classic progressive LPs in the early 70s.  RPM’s Beggin’ (2008) collects all Timebox’s 45s (including a rare French release) and much of the Moose On The Loose sessions.  These sessions were recorded in 1968/1969 for what would have been a projected Timebox album.  The group recorded about a dozen tracks at Morgan Studios in Willesden.  Decca heard the results and hated it.  They pulled out, leaving this unheard gem in the vaults for many years.   To my ears Moose On The Loose would have been a fascinating album, close in sound to Traffic’s self-titled 2nd LP.  There’s catchy psych pop (“Promises,” “Tree House,” and “Barnabus Swine”), effective Traffic-like forays into roots rock (“Love The Girl,” “Country Dan and City Lil,” and “Stay There”) and blazing hard rock (“Black Dog”) that point to the future direction Patto and Halsall would take with their progressive outfit.  These recordings highlight Patto’s soulful vocal approach and Ollie Halsall’s wizardry on guitar and vibes .  The Moose On The Loose tracks deliver the goods and prove once and for all that Timebox was one of England’s great lost pop groups.

“Walking Through The Streets Of My Mind”

CD Anthology | 2008 | RPM | buy at amazon ]

I can’t even remember what made me pick this one out of the vinyl bargain bin in 1973 or thereabouts: maybe just the title. Ostensibly it was just another of those one-off albums from some itinerant musos who fall in together on their way from their previous bands to their next combos. John Ford and Richard Hudson had been the bassist and drummer for Elmer Gantry’s Velvet Opera, a third-division R’n’B-into-psych-lite outfit that released a handful of singles and one unsuccessful album in 1968/69. Guitarist Paul Brett had been a latterday member of now-legendary psychedelic outfit Tintern Abbey, though not until after their sole Deram single. And the other guitarist Johnny Joyce had a background in acoustic blues and sixties folk, having worked with the likes of Davey Graham and Bert Jansch. For no obvious reason, they decided to retain the name Velvet Opera. After the commercial failure of Ride A Hustler’s Dream, Hudson and Ford became the long-serving rhythm section of the Strawbs, while both Brett and Joyce developed into maestros of the twelve-string guitar, Brett also becoming a noted guitar historian and Joyce a fine luthier. All four are still active in the music business.

This seemingly inauspicious album turned out to be a finely crafted work showcasing so many musical styles that it’s almost impossible to categorise. Readers of my other reviews will recognise that I admire eclectic albums by versatile acts, even though such works almost invariably fail commercially precisely because the industry can’t pigeonhole them. They don’t come much more eclectic than this one. While it sits chronologically more or less between late psych and early prog, it offers straight-ahead pop-rock, trad blues, electric folk, acoustic country rock, a psychedelically-treated gospellish ballad, a cod-oriental raga and a six-minute instrumental suite based on the Beatles standard “Eleanor Rigby”, all but two tracks being originals and all played by a bunch of talented multi-instrumentalists. And the whole album is pervaded with a wry, playful sense of humour. These guys clearly enjoyed making this record.

There are just too many fine tracks to list, but the highlights for me are the 57-second title track which sparkles with acoustic guitar harmonics, the outwardly sloppy yet wonderfully authentic take on Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues”, the superb, intense ballad “Raise The Light” and the almost-parody of The Band’s old-time country style, “Depression”. Only the tongue-in-cheek “Raga (And Lime)” comes across as a shade too corny, although Richard Hudson’s sitar and tabla playing on it are the real deal.

An interesting historical footnote: the Akarma CD reissue includes two bonus tracks, both fairly unremarkable pop-rock songs. The writer credit for both these is to David Cuell MacTavish, who had been the lead vocalist with . . . Tintern Abbey. The reissue rather unforgivably contains no new sleeve notes, and how these two songs came into the Opera’s oeuvre is unexplained: presumably via Paul Brett. These days Tintern Abbey arouse a lot of excitement among psych fans, though little is documented on them. For the best writeup I’ve found on them, read on here.

“Raise the Light”

Vinyl | 1969 | CBS | ebay ]
MP3 Album | download ]

This may be John Stewart’s finest achievement although some fans might argue in favor of the great Willard from 1970.  California Bloodlines was John Stewart’s first true solo disc.  Recorded and released in 1969, Stewart used many of the same musicians as Dylan did for Nashville Skyline.  As expected this disc is much more rustic and country influenced than his work with either Buffy Ford or the Kingston Trio.  Regardless, this is a “must own” for fans of authentic American music.

It took me several spins and a few hours in deep thought to finally come to terms with this classic. John Stewart’s quivering, thin Johnny Cash-like vocals threw me off at first but now I see why many rate California Bloodlines as one of the premier Americana albums.  It’s stacked from top to bottom with great songs and intelligent songwriting.  The opener is one of Stewart’s classics, and while the studio side is excellent in it’s own way,  I prefer the full, live arrangement from October of 69 (Chris Darrow plays fiddle/mandolin on the live version).  Stewart’s songwriting is best heard on gems “Lonesome Picker,” “Missouri Birds,” and “The Pirates of Stone Country Road.”   These cuts are loaded with images of people and places from a bygone era.  He occasionally takes the historical viewpoint a la Robbie Robertson but his songwriting is certainly one of the album’s strengths.  If you’re a fan of Gene Clark or Mickey Newbury I’m sure you’ll be able to appreciate the awesome “Lonesome Picker.”  This track is a spellbinding masterpiece with haunting imagery and lyrics that still cut deep today. My favorite song from the album, “Never Goin’ Back,”  is another standout track that features plenty of buzzing fuzz guitar similar to the Burritos’ classic “Devil In Disguise.”  The rest of California Bloodlines is fleshed out with accomplished country-rockers and pretty country-folk ballads that have great melodies and tight arrangements.

If you can get a hold of an original or the BGO twofer (with Willard) by all means do so!

“Lonesome Picker”

2fer w/ Willard | 2001 | BGO | at amzn ]
Orig Vinyl | 1969 | Capitol | at ebay ]

At the time of its release an air of mystery pervaded the third studio album proper from Fleetwood Mac. The new, sombre product displayed a seemingly inexplicable change of direction from the preceding high-octane blues-fuelled style. The previously irrepressible Jeremy Spencer is totally absent from the recordings apart from one or two alleged (and inaudible) background piano noodlings, though he appears smiling broadly in the band’s back cover picture. The diminution of Peter Green’s dominance, already clear from the second album, is evinced even further here. Shouldering the new responsibilities is unknown wunderkind guitarist Danny Kirwan, given an unprecedented five (originally seven, but two deleted to allow retrospective inclusion of Green’s double-sided single “Oh Well”) of the individual songwriting credits.

After the rollicking ebullience of the earlier records, the music of Then Play On is often spare and bleak, largely instrumental and, in the case of Green’s compositions, world-wearily sad, both musically and lyrically; the seeds of his later disillusionment, depression and eventual schizophrenia can be clearly heard here. His songs retain a blues flavour, but it’s more oblique, almost incidental. Kirwan’s compositions are more harmonically complex and somewhat more upbeat, but still wistful enough to gracefully complement Green’s songs. What’s most remarkable is the empathy between the two guitarists, who intertwine seamlessly, stylistically and melodically, with just Kirwan’s sharper tone, more pronounced vibrato and generally higher-register playing the difference. Green probably never found a more empathic performance partner, Kirwan a more accommodating mentor. Mick Fleetwood’s drumming is inventive and varied throughout whilst never being overbearing; John McVie’s bass work metronomically understated as ever. For me the highlights are Green’s multifaceted nine-minute masterpiece “Oh Well”, the energetic guitar jam “Searching For Madge” / “Fighting For Madge” which benefits from some fine, mildly lysergic studio editing, Kirwan’s delightful instrumental “My Dream” and Green’s almost unbearably downbeat closer “Before The Beginning”.

Retrospectively this can be seen to be one of the great transitional albums, marking the departure of one of rock’s guitar legends and the start of the first and longest of several turbulent periods for what would become one of rock’s institutions. The absence of the unpredictable Spencer is now thought to be due to a lack of enthusiasm for Green’s downer songs, a theory supported by his making a solo album at the same time . . . to which the other Mac members all contributed. Kirwan’s sudden prominence in the band might have been due at least in part to a romantic attraction on the part of Green, who nicknamed him “young eyes”. And Green’s now universally known psychiatric problems explain his reducing control and ensuing exit. The historical context isn’t necessary to appreciate this haunting, introspective album, but it helps.

“My Dream”

Original Vinyl | 1969 | Reprise | search ebay ]

Released in 1969, The House of Blue Lights was Don Covay’s bold, adventurous attempt to reach the underground audience.  Here Covay is backed by the white-hot Jefferson Lemon Blues Band, credited on the album jacket.  Prior to this LP Don Covay released two of the finest soul/pop albums of the 60’s, Mercy! and See-Saw.

The House of Blue Lights is much different than what came before.  Most of the record is grounded in electrified country-blues; a deep Southern, swampy aura dominates the proceedings.  No soul man of the time tried any blues like this before: raw, anguished and lived-in with lots of twangy guitar solos for good measure.   A few of the numbers, namely the title cut parts 1 & 2, maintain a moody organ-led soul sound that’s highlighted by light sitar flourishes.  These lengthy tracks are clear standouts but other cuts still have the power to stun and amaze.   In the beginning “Mad Dog Blues” hit me like a ton of bricks.  This tune begins with Covay (and band) barking like dogs in heat.  It also features a fantastic flute solo and stinging lead guitar work; play this one LOUD for best results.  “Four Women” is more of the same, Covay’s smooth, soulful vocals complimented by crunching electric guitars and a rocking beat.  Most of the album’s tracks are originals but a few covers are worth mentioning.  Consider the old country-blues standard “Key To The Highway,” Covay manages to breathe new life into this classic warhorse by adding muffled vocals and electric back-porch-blues guitar.

Although blues sounds dominate this set list, The House of Blue Lights is a varied listening experience that’s well paced.  Some tracks are accoustic country-blues (“Steady Roller”)  while others like “Shut Your Mouth” feature greasy blues harp, piano, pounding drum fills and complex song arrangements.   When listening to the great down-and-out ”But I Forgive You” I can’t help but think of a young, bluesy Rolling Stones.  Bruce Eder summed it up best in his review of The House of Blue Lights on allmusic.com; ”This album is not only a great record on its own terms, but it’s sort of a black parallel/precursor to a few blues-rock LPs by white artists that sold a hell of a lot more copies around the same time. Much of the album sounds like the sonic and spiritual blueprint for Let It Bleed and Exile on Main Street and parts of Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs.”

If a bit offbeat, The House of Blue Lights is one of Covay’s best albums.  I’ve seen other reviews refer to the LP as “odd” but I think it’s a wonderful, individual recording that’s seldom been equalled in the world of soul music.   The overall vibe of The House of Blue Lights is that of a great artist and tight band, blasting thru a powerful set of swampy blues rock on one of those hot, humid southern nights.   A true American classic.  SepiaTone reissued this album in 2002 but since then it’s been hard to come by.

“Key To The Highway”

CD Reissue | 2002 | SepiaTone | at amzn ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Atlantic | search ebay ]
MP3 Album | download ]

(31 votes, average: 8.45 out of 10)

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“Veteran’s Day Poppy”

CD Reissue | 1990 | Reprise | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Straight | at ebay ]
Vinyl Reissue | 2009 | Warner | at ebay ]

Pink Floyd’s milestone albums are today so embedded in the public consciousness that it’s become more necessary than ever to explore their lesser-known offerings. This can often lead to discovering some unexpected treats. Their soundtrack to the otherwise forgettable 1969 French film More is one such work. Perhaps Floyd’s last album to be imbued with the spirit of Syd Barrett, it comprises a collection of short songs and instrumental pieces, the acid-pop overtones, gentle chillout textures and generally taut construction of which offer a considerable contrast to the lengthy, plodding, half-improvised instrumentals which had become their standard fare, following the loss of Barrett’s lysergically-fuelled, wonderfully erratic songwriting. Roger Waters is the main composer and lyricist here, thankfully before his gloomy, introspective leanings really took over.

Although the album was commissioned as a film soundtrack and the pieces were written to order to fit scenes in the movie, the whole work can be enjoyed as an album of music with no reference at all to its raison d’être (I’ve never seen the film, and frankly have no wish to, given the nature of its plot). Six of the thirteen tracks are proper, complete songs rather than just instrumentals. The range of musical styles is truly eclectic, and no track ever outstays its welcome. Spacey reverbed Farfisa licks, folksy acoustic guitars, found sounds, latin percussion, musique concrête, piano jazz, flamenco, proto-heavy metal and even a touch of uncharacteristic country-pop make successive appearances. “Quicksilver”, the only lengthy track at just over seven minutes, shows the influence of Georgy Ligeti’s atonal orchestrations as used in 2001: A Space Odyssey. The jazzy, freeform piano-and-percussion “Up The Khyber” loops wildly around the stereo plane. “The Nile Song” is grunge twenty years before Nirvana and Mudhoney, though its bewildering series of key changes would certainly bemuse such later acts. “Cirrus Minor” is delightful space-rock with an incongruous accompaniment of birdsong. The gentle “Crying Song” features vibes and a gorgeous, nagging bass riff hook.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about More is that it was completely written and recorded in just two weeks: a contrast to the increasingly lengthy compositional and recording periods that Floyd were employing for their mainstream albums. Truly, sometimes less can be More.

“The Nile Song”

CD Reissue | 2004 | EMI | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Harvest | at ebay ]

I gotta admit, I ‘ve never been a huge blues fan. I like more complicated songwriting, interesting chord progressions, and short, snappy solos – things from which the blues typically stray. Until lately, this deficiency has unjustly prevented me from discovering artists who successfully managed to fuse pop, rock, country, or soul with the blues and deliver music that falls right in the sweet spot. Finally, and thankfully, I’m currently loving this little (giant) gem from the incomparable Taj Mahal.

Along with Ry Cooder, Taj was a founder of the legendary Rising Sons, and went on to release two stripped down delta-blues classics in 1968. Giant Step, released concurrently with a raw collection of solo recordings called De Ole Folks At Home in 1969, would be his third, and personal favorite to many.  It’s the title track’s delicate, sparse mood I can’t stuff in my head enough. Taj transforms the Monkees hit, composed by Carole King and Gerry Goffin, into a relaxed and gorgeous rural roamer – his muddy vox rolls all over the changes, miles beyond blues. And though Giant Step isn’t completely free of the old I-IV-V, just let the feedback harmonica moan from Give Your Woman What She Wants hook you in, the toe-tapping Cajun feel to You’re Gonna Need Somebody On Your Bond take you along, and overpowered drive of Six Days On The Road stamp it down, then see who cares about chord progressions anymore.

The most fun comes from inventive production touches: childish piano tittering on Good Morning Little School Girl, metronomic banjo rapping on Farther On Down The Road (one of two originals on the record and an easy classic), ace country guitar leads all throughout provided by Jesse Ed Davis, here accompanying Taj for the third and final record before embarking on his own solo career (releasing three solid records and sessioning with plenty of the greats). The final track, Bacon Fat, is a pretty standard blues originally penned by The Band, and here mostly a drawn out jam affording everbody last licks.

The album is actually 2 in 1, accompanied with De Ole Folks At Home, an acoustic solo set with Taj providing old-time steel-body slide picking, clawhammer banjo, harp, and hambone on traditional and classic numbers like Cluck Old Hen and Fishing Blues, as well as several originals. It’s like pulling up a hot seat on Taj’s front porch, who would pass? An excellent pairing, this record is essential on its own and along with Giant Step you can’t refuse. Downhome grooves, raw authentic performances, a plain fun record that got me rethinking the blues. “Take a giant step outside your mind.”

“Take A Giant Step”

CD Reissue | 2003 | MSI | 2fer | buy at amazon ]
Original Vinyl |  1969 | Columbia | search ebay ]

I bought In The Court Of The Crimson King straight after seeing Crimson support the Rolling Stones at the Hyde Park free concert in 1969. The then almost unknown Crimson delivered by far the strongest set of the day. I’ve listened to it periodically over the ensuing forty years, first on vinyl and latterly remixed on CD, and it still impresses me.

There are some fine musicians here. Bandleader and composer Robert Fripp can rock out on guitar with the best of the rest, but is happiest on avant-garde improvisations with a cool mellow tone. Drummer Mike Giles has all the jazzy chops. Bassist Greg Lake is also a clear-voiced, expressive singer. Probably the most talented member is Ian McDonald, who covers all keyboards and all wind instruments; a master of the Mellotron, his flute work is also particularly praiseworthy.

The album boasts but five tracks, all of which are basically straightforward songs on simple chord sequences with lyrics, courtesy of lyricist and poet Pete Sinfield, mostly incorporating the usual science-fantasy noodlings of the era, but with each song featuring a contrasting freeform instrumental section. “21st Century Schizoid Man” leads off with a nightmarish, distorted vision of a Michael Moorcock world, giving way to a fractured unison passage with impressive ensemble playing from all four musicians. “I Talk To The Wind” is a mellow, elegiac piece featuring gorgeous muted licks throughout from Fripp. “Epitaph,” my favourite track, invites comparisons with contemporaneous Moody Blues, being a powerful song drenched in Mellotron strings. “Moonchild” is another mellow epic with a long coda in which Fripp’s guitar holds an extended freeform conversation with McDonald’s Fender Rhodes, while Giles politely tries to horn in on the discussion. “The Court Of The Crimson King”, the band’s signature tune, closes proceedings in powerful style, ending with a charming nursery pipe organ recapitulation of the main theme.

There’s a lot of variation in dynamics here; the CD helpfully eliminates the annoyance caused by vinyl surface noise during the quieter passages. If I have any criticisms, they are minor: the use of a similar, slightly plodding 4/4 time signature  throughout, and the long coda of “Moonchild” perhaps rather outstaying its welcome. However, this remains a classic of early prog, and one arguably not bettered by any later lineup of Crimson. For immediately after the ensuing lengthy US tour, McDonald and Giles both quit, and Lake abandoned ship during the recording of the follow-up In The Wake Of Poseidon, leaving Fripp to build again from scratch. He probably didn’t succeed at this level again till the brilliant Belew/Levin/Bruford guitar-based lineup of the eighties.

“Epitaph/March for No Reason/Tomorrow and Tomorrow”

Original Vinyl | 1969 | Atlantic | search ebay ]
CD Reissue | 2004 | Discipline | amazon ]