Top 10 Prog Albums of the 80s
"Dawn of light lying between a silence and sold sources,
Chased amid fusions of wonder
In moments hardly seen forgotten
Coloured in pastures of chance..."
The opening lyrics from Tales From Topographic Oceans (1974). Average number of songs per side of vinyl: 1
"I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
A look from you and I would fall from grace
And that would wipe the smile right from my face"
The opening lyrics from Asia´s self titled debut (1982). Average number of songs per side of vinyl: 4.5
If the early 70s represents the peak of prog (and, by extension, pretty much all culture), then by the 80s, things were looking decidedly grim. Punk didn’t immediately sound the death knoll for prog, much as it would like you to believe, but whilst1977 still delivered a reasonable harvest of prog classics, by the early 80s a combination of critical ridicule and commercial indifference put progressive rock in a decidedly tenuous position. Part of the problem seems to be that the ridiculous creative splurge of prog’s golden age – you can pretty much set the goal posts from the release of In The Court Of The Crimson King in 1969 to the disintegration of 70s Crim in 1974 – left many of the bands artistically exhausted or burned out. However, the core of the decay stems from the sad fact that, faced with New Wave and FM radio’s demand for shorter songs and greater approachability, many of prog’s leading lights ditched cosmic lyrics and expansive song structures in favour of toothless, airbrushed AOR. At the end of the day, these people who were at home stretching crazy cosmic jazz across entire sides of vinyl simply had no idea how to write a three minute pop song, and it shows. Just look at the difference between the lyrics above. However you feel about Tales (I love it, but that’s a different story for another day), its cosmic mysticism is surely infinitely preferable to Asia’s trite, adult relationship clichés.
Asia are an unbelievably easy target, but in this case they are an entirely deserving one. It’s hard to imagine any prog fan looking at that line-up and not salivating – John Wetton, Carl Palmer, Steve Howe (and Geoffry Downes, but there’s a black sheep in every family)… you can almost imagine the monstrous hybrid of Larks’ Tongues Crim, ELP and Yes, all thundering, malevolent precussion coupled with soaring, complex guitar lines – don’t tell me you’re not all hot and bothered now. But put on the disc and what do you get? Slick, soulless stadium rock, with some of the most distinctive musicians of their generation phoning in unbelievably anonymous performances. Interestingly, pretty much all of Asia have admitted that the problem was they chased the money rather then following their muse. Sadly, this album is prog in the 80s in microcosm, as once great acts shed what made them so brilliant, innovative and interesting in the first place to make a living pedaling listless MOR. Like the clichéd dragon Roger Dean cover of Asia’s debut compared to the mythic crystal caverns he painted for Yes’ Relayer, the music was familiar yet wrong, the complexity, soul and idealism missing, creating an ersatz prog-not-prog that pleased no one (the millions who buy this nonsense excepted, I guess). Tellingly, the inscription on modern prog legend’s Astra’s myspace reads “Not named after the Asia album.” Britain’s short lived prog revival would give us Marillion, IQ and Pendragon, who went some way to rectifying the ills of the decade, but unfortunately, most of the prog revivalists who followed in their wake were more And Then There Were Three then The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, many being little more then overplayed stadium fodder.
However, it wasn’t all doom and gloom in the prog world. Though the decade saw Magma largely out of action, their influence spread to a new generation of European zeuhl bands, ready to pick up where Vander and co. left off, and often take the music into radically different and unexpected directions. The influence of prog, especially zeuhl and RIO, was still prevalent in the Japanese underground, where to this day it never really went away. Marillion and IQ would produce consistently good records up into the new millennium, and runts of the litter Pendragon would ultimately grow into themselves, astoundingly so with last year’s Pure. And some of the prog greats adapted to the times with all the sensitivity, intelligence and imagination we came to expect of them.
So, here are 10 great prog albums from the 80s, which deserve to sit side by side with the classics of the genre. These people kept the prog flame burning when all about them were losing their heads, and made some unbelievably imaginative and innovative music, some of them considerably after post-punk’s glorious period of creativity had drawn to an end. They are heroes, every one a wizard and a true star.
10. IQ – The Wake (1985)
IQ’s best album – at least until Subterranea – was released the same year that Marillion stormed the charts with their masterpiece Misplaced Childhood (more of which later, naturally), so it inevitably finds itself in that album’s shadow. This is a shame, because in its own right, The Wake is an absolute prog rock classic. A concept album, of course, about life, death and the afterlife, the album features Peter Nicholls at his most subtle and Peter Gabriel-like, and he sings with a delicacy and restraint missing from later albums. However, the real stars of the album are guitarist Mike Holmes and keyboardist Martin Orford, who, despite the inevitable comparisons to Steve Rothery and Mark Kelly, manage to hold their own quite comfortably, displaying robust and lyrical musicianship throughout. Orford’s gothic keyboards give ‘Outer Limits’ and ‘Magic Roundabout’ a real sense of drama and grandeur. The guitar solo on ‘The Thousand Days’ is particularly glorious, and ‘Widow’s Peak’ allows Holmes to work his whole bag of tricks, from periods of acoustic delicacy to stomping Crimsonesque malevolence. And in fact, it’s worth seeking out the reissue for the bonus track ‘Dans Le Parc Du Chateau Noir’, which sees him rip it up
9. After Dinner – Paradise Of Replicas (1989)
After Dinner were a Japanese band influenced by RIO, particularly Henry Cow and Art Bears, which is pretty much the only thing that gives them any context whatsoever. Their music is a similarly hard to pin down mix of modern classical, jazz and rock influences, creating something wonderfully individual in the process that doesn’t really fit in anywhere. They only ever released two albums, but both deserve to be remembered as classics of the first water. Haco is something of a Japanese Dagmar Krause. She has an incredible voice, capable of stunning power and ridiculous leaps, but retaining a sense of playfulness not seen in Krause since her Slapp Happy days. Indeed, After Dinner, despite their esoteric influences, are a more open and playful proposition then the Art Bears. As a result, their albums switch effortlessly between cabaret songs and tape loops of metal on metal. Exotic percussion and eastern modes mix with classical formalism and jazz experimentation to create something unique.
8. Shub Niggurath – Les Mortes Vont Vite (1986)
I actually think this may be a contender for the oddest record I own, and I own a shedload of really really strange music. Shub Niggurath were a Belgium band who answered the question none of us had the wit to answer – ‘wouldn’t it be awesome if Magma had brutal No Wave tendancies?’ The answer, surprisingly enough, is yes, yes it would. Songs like ‘Incipit Tragaedia’ and ‘Yog Sothoth’ start of as claustrophobically dark and tense zeuhl, Kontarkosz filtered through a black hole, then mutate into crunching, bass-led chasms of white noise. The feedback solo in ‘Yog Sothoth’ is particularly merciless, screaming at the heavens whilst the rhythm section gallops along in multiple time signatures. The nightmarish intensity is kept up throughout the whole album, with barely a moment of light to break the darkness – Shub Niggurath only use quiet passages to build up interminable dread for the coming destruction. Shub Niggurath would release one more album that almost reaches the same levels of demonic intensity before disappearing forever into the shadows.
7. Eskaton – Ardeur (1980)
Magma’s influence is a strange thing. They have few fans, but the fans they have treat them with a rare devotion. One of the side effects of this has been the appearance of many zeuhl bands throughout Europe, extending as far as Japan. These bands often seem to be extensions of Christian Vander’s work themselves, as if the sheer power of his influence alone is enough to put these people in his thrall, to turn them into vessels designed to carry out the man’s work. Eskaton were a zeuhl band from France, who basically dealt in MDK-era Magma, the Kobaian replaced with politically influenced French, spiced up liberally with a bit of Gentle Giant and driving funk. A simple trick, but pulled off exceptionally well. Ardeur was their second and final album, before they split up due to the world’s mass indifference to such eccentric product. A shame, because Ardeur is a corker. Despite their obvious influences, Eskaton possess a robust and subtly funky rhythmic drive which makes their sound their own. Additionally, in keeping with the dictates of the time, and in contrast with their first LP, on Ardeur Eskaton keep their prog-outs relatively short, managing to get in, do the damage and get out in a fraction of the time it would take Magma to work through MDK’s first movement. However, when they do stretch out, the results are stellar. ‘Dagon’ is 10 minutes of Lovecraft-inspired prog horror, all rhythmic bass detonations, female choral massed wordless ululations and sudden snaps of driving terror.
6. Art Zoyd – Phase IV (1982)
Art Zoyd were the original Magma spin-off band, but ultimately developed a life of their own. Phase IV is still their finest achievement, a sprawling, malevolent double album of zeuhl wonder. Like a more orchestrally inclined version of Magma, it’s easy to see why they eventually wound up scoring ballets and soundtracks – their music has a very natural sense of drama and movement. ‘Etat D’Urgence’ sets the scene for the whole LP – large acoustic passages for violin and guitar give way to rumbling bass and goblin chanting. If Art Zoyd rarely achieve Univers Zero’s nerve-shredding intensity, they are more willing to let light and shade into their music, creating a richer and less foreboding album that’s still able to create enough moments of chilling terror to keep you on the edge of your seat.
5. Univers Zero – Ceux Du Dehors (1981)
Ceux Du Dehors is a sunny picnic of an album by Univers Zero standards, but a twisted monster by most people’s standards. Daniel Dennis was Magma’s second drummer in a line up that went sadly unrecorded, so we can only imagine its unearthly intensity and dread. He left over creative differences to form Univers Zero, who mixed zeuhl with RIO and modern classical influences to fulfill Dennis’ own dark, HPL-fixated vision. This is further evidence for the theory that all Magma-heads also have a Lovecraft fixation. Ceux Du Dehors is less intense then the primarily acoustic efforts the band put out at the end of the 70s, but then again, most things are less intense then the utterly terrifying Heresie. More prominent use of electric instruments and keyboards makes Ceux Du Dehors sound more aligned with classic prog, but it’s still a bumpy ride, as the worst nightmares of Larks’ Tongues Crimso and Henry Cow go up against sections that are pure Stravinsky. The album also features the direct Lovecraft homage ‘La Musique d’Erich Zann’, whose scaping viola and wheezing horror conjure up suitable music to split open dimensions with.
4. Art Bears – The World As It Is Today (1981)
Henry Cow were equally infamous for their radical left wing politics as their radical fusion of free jazz, modern classical music and rock. Their vision was already bleak and angry in the early 70s, but, unsurprisingly following Britain’s political development in the late 70s and early 80s, they only got bleaker and angrier. The Cow, composed as it was of diverse and outspoken individuals, fell apart due to musical and political differences, but the core of guitarist Fred Frith, vocalist Dagmar Krause and drummer Chris Cutler continued making music together as Art Bears. Chris Cutler’s lyrics reached their peak of political expression with The World As It Is Today, a brutal attack on capitalism which would have warmed the cockles of Gang Of Four’s hearts, whilst their more minimal take on prog, integrating Cutler’s use of tape effects into their already singular mixture, further aligned them with the post punk vanguard. Indeed, This Heat were in many ways Henry Cow and Art Bear’s post punk reflection. The World As It Is Today is a modern song cycle, with Cutler’s pared down percussion, and enlivened by Frith’s virtuoso yet brutally noisy guitar, particularly prominently on ‘Democracy’.
3. Marillion – Misplaced Childhood (1985)
Arguably still Marillion’s greatest achievement, and certainly the most iconic album of the prog rock revival, Misplaced Childhood still sounds simply wonderful today. Inspired by an acid trip Fish went on after receiving a tab from an ex-girlfriend in the post, the album takes us on a journey through the singer’s failed relationship, which results in Fish coming to the realization that there are worse troubles in the world then his, giving him the strength and resolve to move on. The album was conceived as a single, coherent work, and whilst ‘Kayleigh’, ‘Lavender’ and ‘Heart Of Lothian’ work well enough on their own to have stormed the charts when released as singles, the album really is a song cycle, best enjoyed in one sitting. Fish’s lyrics are at their poetic best, and he gives a rousing, passionate performance throughout. While his characteristic bitterness and cynicism is still present, there are moments of pure, simple and open emotion, like the aforementioned singles, and the uplifting ending gives the whole thing a generosity of spirit. However, as was later shown, the band was far from simply Fish’s backing act. Steve Rothery’s glorious guitar playing is fantastic throughout, echoing David Gilmour and Steve Hackett at their most lyrical. Mark Kelly’s keyboards are dramatic and sweeping, switching effortlessly from moody to ecstatic. And Marrillion’s often underrated rhythm section is in full force here, just listen to the way Pete Trewavas and Ian Mosely punctuate each line of ‘Kayleigh’, so together they could almost be a single organism, the way they effortlessly navigate the time and tempo changes throughout, and their unexpected integration of African and calypso rhythms on ‘Waterhole’. Truly a case of a band operating at their absolute peak. It should be noted that Marillion also put out four other absolute classic studio albums during the 80s, any of which could have made this list.
2. Rush – Moving Pictures (1981)
By Moving Pictures, Rush must have seemed unstoppable. Whilst many of their peers disintegrated or degraded during the latter half of the 70s, Rush kept going from strength to strength. And just kept going. They opened the 80s with the all time classic Permanent Waves (stop what you are doing right now and listen to ‘Natural Science’. No, really. You can thank me later), and followed it with the just as all time classic Moving Pictures. The album opens with the brilliant ‘Tom Sawyer’, the portrait of a modern-day rebel replete with snotty lyrics from Neil Peart, buzzing synthesizers, a snarling guitar solo in 7/8, and a series of thoroughly epic Peart drum rolls. The album just keeps on going from there – every track is a solid gold classic. ‘Red Barchetta’ enters on a haze of guitar harmonics before erupting into a full speed car chase, ‘YYZ’ comes across like 70s Crim on holiday, and the gorgeous melody of ‘Limelight’ is contrasted by the ominous bass rumbles and Alex Lifeson’s haunting guitar moans of the instrumental section. Despite being as proggy as you can possibly get, the songs here are all relatively concise – only ‘The Camera Eye’ lasts over 10 minutes, and many of the others finish before the five minute mark. Indeed, here Rush show how many of the prog bands could have adapted their material to make it shorter and more approachable – Moving Pictures is just such fun! – without losing any of their classic prog idiosyncrasies. Rush were willing to adapt to the new technology as well, making the most out of modern synthesizers, and even adopting a dub/reggae influence successfully on closer ‘Vital Signs’, in which Geddy Lee plays perhaps the greatest bass solo in rock music history. The band’s strong songwriting and ability to adapt to new musical ideas without losing their core identity would see them produce more great albums in the 80s, particularly Signals and Grace Under Pressure, and indeed in the 90s as well.
1. King Crimson – Discipline (1981)
This album inevitably tops the list. In 1974, King Crimson disbanded ‘for good’, with Fripp saying that it was all over for ‘dinosaur’ bands. He spent the rest of the decade hanging out with Brian Eno and David Bowie, absorbing new musical influences and observing the changing musical tides. After playing on various other people’s albums and releasing an underwhelming solo LP, Fripp decided it was time to get a band together again. The band was originally going to be called Discipline, and featured former Crimso drummer Bill Bruford, but also Adrian Belew, an ex-Zappa acolyte who contributed searing noise guitar to Talking Heads’ Remain In Light LP, and Tony Levin, who played bass on Peter Gabriel’s solo LPs. This new group was far removed from Fripp’s previous band, with influences extending from New Wave to krautrock to Afrobeat and gamelan. As rehearsals continued, Fripp decided to resurrect the King Crimson moniker, and Discipline became the name of the album instead. It’s an apt title – prog rock’s epic sprawl was replaced with an interlocking mesh of guitar lines and cyclical percussion; lyrics about Crimson Kings and Prince Rupert’s tears gave way to Belew’s gnomic word play. Only two songs go past the five minute mark. And yet, it’s hard to imagine an album more true to the ethos of progressive rock – here was a genuine, original music taking the influence of modern classical tropes such as minimalism, the rhythms and structures of traditional African and Asian music, and contemporary pop, and fusing them all into a coherent whole with stunning musicianship. Adrian Belew’s development as a guitarist is simply astounding, though the music is diverse enough to allow him to indulge in his old, untutored squall when it suits the song. Bill Bruford’s drumming is a revelation, as he all but abandons the bombast of his earlier sound to subtly and playfully support and subvert the simple rhythmic patterns of the music, whilst integrating electronic percussion for the first time. The music itself is complex yet approachable, with Crimso showing real pop leanings without compromising their vision an iota. The album is immediately in line with Japan and Talking Heads’ idealistically similar explorations of the same era, whilst paving the way for many of the better post-rock bands of the 90s. Whilst Yes and Genesis were looking more and more like fish out of water, Crimso were sounding effortlessly contemporary and full of energy and new ideas.
… And Five From Classic Prog Acts To Avoid
1. Yes – Big Generator (1987)
90125 was a worrying development for Yes fans, but was at least partially redeemed by the cheesy party classic ‘Owner Of A Lonely Heart’. Big Generator has no such redeeming features. John Anderson’s lyrics have degenerated to new age doggerel, and the music is as lame and as unimaginative as his lazy hippy dippy clichés. Nobody on this album sounds like they are even trying, and the end result is one of the most boring records ever created by man. Although Yes had been in decline since Relayer, their last great album, this was arguably the point of no return. A thoroughly pointless LP.
2. Genesis – Invisible Touch (1986)
Following the departure of Gabriel and Hackett, the extent to which Rutherford, Banks and Collins went to embarrass themselves is nothing short of legendary, but for all the wrong reasons. There is much to dislike about all their albums of this period, all of which have dragged Genesis’ once good name through the dirt in all kinds of nasty ways, but Invisible Touch is arguably the nadir. Largely indistinguishable from Phil Collins’ anodyne solo work at this stage, Invisible Touch is half-assed, emotionless AOR at its absolute worse. Gone was any trace of prog, replaced with bland synthesizer arrangements, clunky electronic percussion and trite lyrics. Though, on the upside, it doesn’t have ‘Illegal Alien’ on it.
3. Magma – Merci (1984)
It gives me no great pleasure to talk about Magma’s only sub-par album. Unable to cover the costs of recording, Magma had been cutting wood on the road for years, and for the first and probably only time in his life, Christian Vander considered that compromise might be a reasonable option. His idea wasn’t actually a bad one – to record an album that mixed all the usual zeuhl trademarks with modern funk and R and B. On their previous album, the excellent and underrated Attahk, Magma had proved that they could do funky with ‘The Last Seven Minutes’. Unfortunately, Merci is a disaster. One of the all time greatest drummers replaces himself with a drum machine, the band get stuck repeating ‘ooh baby’ on top of overly slick and soulless arrangements, and all the Magma idiosyncrasies are ironed out in favour of radio-friendly blandness. Unsurprisingly, none of this helped the band gain any more radio play or fans, and when Magma returned, it was to return to their strengths with the all time classic Kohntarkosz Anteria, and we could all pretend Merci never happened. Oddly enough, if you make it through three quarters of Merci, you are rewarded with the obscure Magma classics ‘Eliphas Levi’ and ‘The Night We Died’, gorgeous pieces arranged for choral vocals and solo piano, which lay out much of the ground for Vander’s spin-off group Offering, and suggests that, had Vander simply stuck to his guns like he usually does, Merci could have been brilliant.
4. Pink Floyd – A Momentary Lapse Of Reason (1987)
More like A Momentary Lapse Of Quality Control, amiright? (Sadly, that suggests that the Floyd ever got it back). I hate this album. David Gilmour and Roger Waters had a symbiotic relationship – Waters needed Gilmour’s musicianship to support his bleakly misanthropic vision, but equally Gilmour needed Waters’ distinctive lyrical vision to bring out his best music. This is immediately shown by this incredibly lackluster LP. The feeling of confusion and disorientation expressed by the man awakening on a beach of beds on the cover reflects the fan’s reaction upon hearing Floyd’s first Watersless release. Without Waters’ lyrical output, Floyd are utterly toothless, and without his strong aesthetic vision, Gilmour and Mason and a bunch of session musicians bumble about in AOR Purgatory, composing limp power ballads and tuneless rockers. Fun fact – Antony Moore from Slapp Happy penned some of the album’s insipid and preachy lyrics, allowing the record to embarrass two prog rock legends for the price of one.
5. Marillion – Holidays In Eden (1991)
This album wasn’t actually released in the 80s, but as it falls prey to many of the same faults, and really it only just misses out, I thought I’d include it here, in the company it deserves. Marillion’s only crap album was a result of the record company simply not knowing what to do with the band. With Fish gone and the times changing, the hits were drying up, and the execs wanted to make sure the band behind such mega hits as ‘Kayleigh’ and ‘Lavender’ still delivered the goods. Want to hear the incredible, innovative solution? Ever thought Marillion would sound absolutely awesome if they sounded more like U2? Neither has anyone else in the history of the world, but that’s the album that EMI thought Marillion needed to make to keep shifting units. Holidays In Eden is a horrible record, the songs drowned in generic stadium rock production, all bland keyboards and Edge-inspired guitar parts. The whole process so disgusted Marillion that they withdrew to a European haunted castle, boarded themselves up for three years and returned with the awe-inspiring but thoroughly unsellable concept album Brave, beginning the end of their relationship with major labels and their switch to internet autonomy. Frustratingly, the bonus disc on the remastered reissue of Eden is all but essential, featuring raw live and stripped down acoustic takes of songs from the album. In this context, the songs are revealed to be brilliant, suggesting that, without executive meddling, Holidays In Eden could have been another classic.
Chased amid fusions of wonder
In moments hardly seen forgotten
Coloured in pastures of chance..."
The opening lyrics from Tales From Topographic Oceans (1974). Average number of songs per side of vinyl: 1
"I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
A look from you and I would fall from grace
And that would wipe the smile right from my face"
The opening lyrics from Asia´s self titled debut (1982). Average number of songs per side of vinyl: 4.5
If the early 70s represents the peak of prog (and, by extension, pretty much all culture), then by the 80s, things were looking decidedly grim. Punk didn’t immediately sound the death knoll for prog, much as it would like you to believe, but whilst1977 still delivered a reasonable harvest of prog classics, by the early 80s a combination of critical ridicule and commercial indifference put progressive rock in a decidedly tenuous position. Part of the problem seems to be that the ridiculous creative splurge of prog’s golden age – you can pretty much set the goal posts from the release of In The Court Of The Crimson King in 1969 to the disintegration of 70s Crim in 1974 – left many of the bands artistically exhausted or burned out. However, the core of the decay stems from the sad fact that, faced with New Wave and FM radio’s demand for shorter songs and greater approachability, many of prog’s leading lights ditched cosmic lyrics and expansive song structures in favour of toothless, airbrushed AOR. At the end of the day, these people who were at home stretching crazy cosmic jazz across entire sides of vinyl simply had no idea how to write a three minute pop song, and it shows. Just look at the difference between the lyrics above. However you feel about Tales (I love it, but that’s a different story for another day), its cosmic mysticism is surely infinitely preferable to Asia’s trite, adult relationship clichés.
Asia are an unbelievably easy target, but in this case they are an entirely deserving one. It’s hard to imagine any prog fan looking at that line-up and not salivating – John Wetton, Carl Palmer, Steve Howe (and Geoffry Downes, but there’s a black sheep in every family)… you can almost imagine the monstrous hybrid of Larks’ Tongues Crim, ELP and Yes, all thundering, malevolent precussion coupled with soaring, complex guitar lines – don’t tell me you’re not all hot and bothered now. But put on the disc and what do you get? Slick, soulless stadium rock, with some of the most distinctive musicians of their generation phoning in unbelievably anonymous performances. Interestingly, pretty much all of Asia have admitted that the problem was they chased the money rather then following their muse. Sadly, this album is prog in the 80s in microcosm, as once great acts shed what made them so brilliant, innovative and interesting in the first place to make a living pedaling listless MOR. Like the clichéd dragon Roger Dean cover of Asia’s debut compared to the mythic crystal caverns he painted for Yes’ Relayer, the music was familiar yet wrong, the complexity, soul and idealism missing, creating an ersatz prog-not-prog that pleased no one (the millions who buy this nonsense excepted, I guess). Tellingly, the inscription on modern prog legend’s Astra’s myspace reads “Not named after the Asia album.” Britain’s short lived prog revival would give us Marillion, IQ and Pendragon, who went some way to rectifying the ills of the decade, but unfortunately, most of the prog revivalists who followed in their wake were more And Then There Were Three then The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, many being little more then overplayed stadium fodder.
However, it wasn’t all doom and gloom in the prog world. Though the decade saw Magma largely out of action, their influence spread to a new generation of European zeuhl bands, ready to pick up where Vander and co. left off, and often take the music into radically different and unexpected directions. The influence of prog, especially zeuhl and RIO, was still prevalent in the Japanese underground, where to this day it never really went away. Marillion and IQ would produce consistently good records up into the new millennium, and runts of the litter Pendragon would ultimately grow into themselves, astoundingly so with last year’s Pure. And some of the prog greats adapted to the times with all the sensitivity, intelligence and imagination we came to expect of them.
So, here are 10 great prog albums from the 80s, which deserve to sit side by side with the classics of the genre. These people kept the prog flame burning when all about them were losing their heads, and made some unbelievably imaginative and innovative music, some of them considerably after post-punk’s glorious period of creativity had drawn to an end. They are heroes, every one a wizard and a true star.
10. IQ – The Wake (1985)
IQ’s best album – at least until Subterranea – was released the same year that Marillion stormed the charts with their masterpiece Misplaced Childhood (more of which later, naturally), so it inevitably finds itself in that album’s shadow. This is a shame, because in its own right, The Wake is an absolute prog rock classic. A concept album, of course, about life, death and the afterlife, the album features Peter Nicholls at his most subtle and Peter Gabriel-like, and he sings with a delicacy and restraint missing from later albums. However, the real stars of the album are guitarist Mike Holmes and keyboardist Martin Orford, who, despite the inevitable comparisons to Steve Rothery and Mark Kelly, manage to hold their own quite comfortably, displaying robust and lyrical musicianship throughout. Orford’s gothic keyboards give ‘Outer Limits’ and ‘Magic Roundabout’ a real sense of drama and grandeur. The guitar solo on ‘The Thousand Days’ is particularly glorious, and ‘Widow’s Peak’ allows Holmes to work his whole bag of tricks, from periods of acoustic delicacy to stomping Crimsonesque malevolence. And in fact, it’s worth seeking out the reissue for the bonus track ‘Dans Le Parc Du Chateau Noir’, which sees him rip it up
9. After Dinner – Paradise Of Replicas (1989)
After Dinner were a Japanese band influenced by RIO, particularly Henry Cow and Art Bears, which is pretty much the only thing that gives them any context whatsoever. Their music is a similarly hard to pin down mix of modern classical, jazz and rock influences, creating something wonderfully individual in the process that doesn’t really fit in anywhere. They only ever released two albums, but both deserve to be remembered as classics of the first water. Haco is something of a Japanese Dagmar Krause. She has an incredible voice, capable of stunning power and ridiculous leaps, but retaining a sense of playfulness not seen in Krause since her Slapp Happy days. Indeed, After Dinner, despite their esoteric influences, are a more open and playful proposition then the Art Bears. As a result, their albums switch effortlessly between cabaret songs and tape loops of metal on metal. Exotic percussion and eastern modes mix with classical formalism and jazz experimentation to create something unique.
8. Shub Niggurath – Les Mortes Vont Vite (1986)
I actually think this may be a contender for the oddest record I own, and I own a shedload of really really strange music. Shub Niggurath were a Belgium band who answered the question none of us had the wit to answer – ‘wouldn’t it be awesome if Magma had brutal No Wave tendancies?’ The answer, surprisingly enough, is yes, yes it would. Songs like ‘Incipit Tragaedia’ and ‘Yog Sothoth’ start of as claustrophobically dark and tense zeuhl, Kontarkosz filtered through a black hole, then mutate into crunching, bass-led chasms of white noise. The feedback solo in ‘Yog Sothoth’ is particularly merciless, screaming at the heavens whilst the rhythm section gallops along in multiple time signatures. The nightmarish intensity is kept up throughout the whole album, with barely a moment of light to break the darkness – Shub Niggurath only use quiet passages to build up interminable dread for the coming destruction. Shub Niggurath would release one more album that almost reaches the same levels of demonic intensity before disappearing forever into the shadows.
7. Eskaton – Ardeur (1980)
Magma’s influence is a strange thing. They have few fans, but the fans they have treat them with a rare devotion. One of the side effects of this has been the appearance of many zeuhl bands throughout Europe, extending as far as Japan. These bands often seem to be extensions of Christian Vander’s work themselves, as if the sheer power of his influence alone is enough to put these people in his thrall, to turn them into vessels designed to carry out the man’s work. Eskaton were a zeuhl band from France, who basically dealt in MDK-era Magma, the Kobaian replaced with politically influenced French, spiced up liberally with a bit of Gentle Giant and driving funk. A simple trick, but pulled off exceptionally well. Ardeur was their second and final album, before they split up due to the world’s mass indifference to such eccentric product. A shame, because Ardeur is a corker. Despite their obvious influences, Eskaton possess a robust and subtly funky rhythmic drive which makes their sound their own. Additionally, in keeping with the dictates of the time, and in contrast with their first LP, on Ardeur Eskaton keep their prog-outs relatively short, managing to get in, do the damage and get out in a fraction of the time it would take Magma to work through MDK’s first movement. However, when they do stretch out, the results are stellar. ‘Dagon’ is 10 minutes of Lovecraft-inspired prog horror, all rhythmic bass detonations, female choral massed wordless ululations and sudden snaps of driving terror.
6. Art Zoyd – Phase IV (1982)
Art Zoyd were the original Magma spin-off band, but ultimately developed a life of their own. Phase IV is still their finest achievement, a sprawling, malevolent double album of zeuhl wonder. Like a more orchestrally inclined version of Magma, it’s easy to see why they eventually wound up scoring ballets and soundtracks – their music has a very natural sense of drama and movement. ‘Etat D’Urgence’ sets the scene for the whole LP – large acoustic passages for violin and guitar give way to rumbling bass and goblin chanting. If Art Zoyd rarely achieve Univers Zero’s nerve-shredding intensity, they are more willing to let light and shade into their music, creating a richer and less foreboding album that’s still able to create enough moments of chilling terror to keep you on the edge of your seat.
5. Univers Zero – Ceux Du Dehors (1981)
Ceux Du Dehors is a sunny picnic of an album by Univers Zero standards, but a twisted monster by most people’s standards. Daniel Dennis was Magma’s second drummer in a line up that went sadly unrecorded, so we can only imagine its unearthly intensity and dread. He left over creative differences to form Univers Zero, who mixed zeuhl with RIO and modern classical influences to fulfill Dennis’ own dark, HPL-fixated vision. This is further evidence for the theory that all Magma-heads also have a Lovecraft fixation. Ceux Du Dehors is less intense then the primarily acoustic efforts the band put out at the end of the 70s, but then again, most things are less intense then the utterly terrifying Heresie. More prominent use of electric instruments and keyboards makes Ceux Du Dehors sound more aligned with classic prog, but it’s still a bumpy ride, as the worst nightmares of Larks’ Tongues Crimso and Henry Cow go up against sections that are pure Stravinsky. The album also features the direct Lovecraft homage ‘La Musique d’Erich Zann’, whose scaping viola and wheezing horror conjure up suitable music to split open dimensions with.
4. Art Bears – The World As It Is Today (1981)
Henry Cow were equally infamous for their radical left wing politics as their radical fusion of free jazz, modern classical music and rock. Their vision was already bleak and angry in the early 70s, but, unsurprisingly following Britain’s political development in the late 70s and early 80s, they only got bleaker and angrier. The Cow, composed as it was of diverse and outspoken individuals, fell apart due to musical and political differences, but the core of guitarist Fred Frith, vocalist Dagmar Krause and drummer Chris Cutler continued making music together as Art Bears. Chris Cutler’s lyrics reached their peak of political expression with The World As It Is Today, a brutal attack on capitalism which would have warmed the cockles of Gang Of Four’s hearts, whilst their more minimal take on prog, integrating Cutler’s use of tape effects into their already singular mixture, further aligned them with the post punk vanguard. Indeed, This Heat were in many ways Henry Cow and Art Bear’s post punk reflection. The World As It Is Today is a modern song cycle, with Cutler’s pared down percussion, and enlivened by Frith’s virtuoso yet brutally noisy guitar, particularly prominently on ‘Democracy’.
3. Marillion – Misplaced Childhood (1985)
Arguably still Marillion’s greatest achievement, and certainly the most iconic album of the prog rock revival, Misplaced Childhood still sounds simply wonderful today. Inspired by an acid trip Fish went on after receiving a tab from an ex-girlfriend in the post, the album takes us on a journey through the singer’s failed relationship, which results in Fish coming to the realization that there are worse troubles in the world then his, giving him the strength and resolve to move on. The album was conceived as a single, coherent work, and whilst ‘Kayleigh’, ‘Lavender’ and ‘Heart Of Lothian’ work well enough on their own to have stormed the charts when released as singles, the album really is a song cycle, best enjoyed in one sitting. Fish’s lyrics are at their poetic best, and he gives a rousing, passionate performance throughout. While his characteristic bitterness and cynicism is still present, there are moments of pure, simple and open emotion, like the aforementioned singles, and the uplifting ending gives the whole thing a generosity of spirit. However, as was later shown, the band was far from simply Fish’s backing act. Steve Rothery’s glorious guitar playing is fantastic throughout, echoing David Gilmour and Steve Hackett at their most lyrical. Mark Kelly’s keyboards are dramatic and sweeping, switching effortlessly from moody to ecstatic. And Marrillion’s often underrated rhythm section is in full force here, just listen to the way Pete Trewavas and Ian Mosely punctuate each line of ‘Kayleigh’, so together they could almost be a single organism, the way they effortlessly navigate the time and tempo changes throughout, and their unexpected integration of African and calypso rhythms on ‘Waterhole’. Truly a case of a band operating at their absolute peak. It should be noted that Marillion also put out four other absolute classic studio albums during the 80s, any of which could have made this list.
2. Rush – Moving Pictures (1981)
By Moving Pictures, Rush must have seemed unstoppable. Whilst many of their peers disintegrated or degraded during the latter half of the 70s, Rush kept going from strength to strength. And just kept going. They opened the 80s with the all time classic Permanent Waves (stop what you are doing right now and listen to ‘Natural Science’. No, really. You can thank me later), and followed it with the just as all time classic Moving Pictures. The album opens with the brilliant ‘Tom Sawyer’, the portrait of a modern-day rebel replete with snotty lyrics from Neil Peart, buzzing synthesizers, a snarling guitar solo in 7/8, and a series of thoroughly epic Peart drum rolls. The album just keeps on going from there – every track is a solid gold classic. ‘Red Barchetta’ enters on a haze of guitar harmonics before erupting into a full speed car chase, ‘YYZ’ comes across like 70s Crim on holiday, and the gorgeous melody of ‘Limelight’ is contrasted by the ominous bass rumbles and Alex Lifeson’s haunting guitar moans of the instrumental section. Despite being as proggy as you can possibly get, the songs here are all relatively concise – only ‘The Camera Eye’ lasts over 10 minutes, and many of the others finish before the five minute mark. Indeed, here Rush show how many of the prog bands could have adapted their material to make it shorter and more approachable – Moving Pictures is just such fun! – without losing any of their classic prog idiosyncrasies. Rush were willing to adapt to the new technology as well, making the most out of modern synthesizers, and even adopting a dub/reggae influence successfully on closer ‘Vital Signs’, in which Geddy Lee plays perhaps the greatest bass solo in rock music history. The band’s strong songwriting and ability to adapt to new musical ideas without losing their core identity would see them produce more great albums in the 80s, particularly Signals and Grace Under Pressure, and indeed in the 90s as well.
1. King Crimson – Discipline (1981)
This album inevitably tops the list. In 1974, King Crimson disbanded ‘for good’, with Fripp saying that it was all over for ‘dinosaur’ bands. He spent the rest of the decade hanging out with Brian Eno and David Bowie, absorbing new musical influences and observing the changing musical tides. After playing on various other people’s albums and releasing an underwhelming solo LP, Fripp decided it was time to get a band together again. The band was originally going to be called Discipline, and featured former Crimso drummer Bill Bruford, but also Adrian Belew, an ex-Zappa acolyte who contributed searing noise guitar to Talking Heads’ Remain In Light LP, and Tony Levin, who played bass on Peter Gabriel’s solo LPs. This new group was far removed from Fripp’s previous band, with influences extending from New Wave to krautrock to Afrobeat and gamelan. As rehearsals continued, Fripp decided to resurrect the King Crimson moniker, and Discipline became the name of the album instead. It’s an apt title – prog rock’s epic sprawl was replaced with an interlocking mesh of guitar lines and cyclical percussion; lyrics about Crimson Kings and Prince Rupert’s tears gave way to Belew’s gnomic word play. Only two songs go past the five minute mark. And yet, it’s hard to imagine an album more true to the ethos of progressive rock – here was a genuine, original music taking the influence of modern classical tropes such as minimalism, the rhythms and structures of traditional African and Asian music, and contemporary pop, and fusing them all into a coherent whole with stunning musicianship. Adrian Belew’s development as a guitarist is simply astounding, though the music is diverse enough to allow him to indulge in his old, untutored squall when it suits the song. Bill Bruford’s drumming is a revelation, as he all but abandons the bombast of his earlier sound to subtly and playfully support and subvert the simple rhythmic patterns of the music, whilst integrating electronic percussion for the first time. The music itself is complex yet approachable, with Crimso showing real pop leanings without compromising their vision an iota. The album is immediately in line with Japan and Talking Heads’ idealistically similar explorations of the same era, whilst paving the way for many of the better post-rock bands of the 90s. Whilst Yes and Genesis were looking more and more like fish out of water, Crimso were sounding effortlessly contemporary and full of energy and new ideas.
… And Five From Classic Prog Acts To Avoid
1. Yes – Big Generator (1987)
90125 was a worrying development for Yes fans, but was at least partially redeemed by the cheesy party classic ‘Owner Of A Lonely Heart’. Big Generator has no such redeeming features. John Anderson’s lyrics have degenerated to new age doggerel, and the music is as lame and as unimaginative as his lazy hippy dippy clichés. Nobody on this album sounds like they are even trying, and the end result is one of the most boring records ever created by man. Although Yes had been in decline since Relayer, their last great album, this was arguably the point of no return. A thoroughly pointless LP.
2. Genesis – Invisible Touch (1986)
Following the departure of Gabriel and Hackett, the extent to which Rutherford, Banks and Collins went to embarrass themselves is nothing short of legendary, but for all the wrong reasons. There is much to dislike about all their albums of this period, all of which have dragged Genesis’ once good name through the dirt in all kinds of nasty ways, but Invisible Touch is arguably the nadir. Largely indistinguishable from Phil Collins’ anodyne solo work at this stage, Invisible Touch is half-assed, emotionless AOR at its absolute worse. Gone was any trace of prog, replaced with bland synthesizer arrangements, clunky electronic percussion and trite lyrics. Though, on the upside, it doesn’t have ‘Illegal Alien’ on it.
3. Magma – Merci (1984)
It gives me no great pleasure to talk about Magma’s only sub-par album. Unable to cover the costs of recording, Magma had been cutting wood on the road for years, and for the first and probably only time in his life, Christian Vander considered that compromise might be a reasonable option. His idea wasn’t actually a bad one – to record an album that mixed all the usual zeuhl trademarks with modern funk and R and B. On their previous album, the excellent and underrated Attahk, Magma had proved that they could do funky with ‘The Last Seven Minutes’. Unfortunately, Merci is a disaster. One of the all time greatest drummers replaces himself with a drum machine, the band get stuck repeating ‘ooh baby’ on top of overly slick and soulless arrangements, and all the Magma idiosyncrasies are ironed out in favour of radio-friendly blandness. Unsurprisingly, none of this helped the band gain any more radio play or fans, and when Magma returned, it was to return to their strengths with the all time classic Kohntarkosz Anteria, and we could all pretend Merci never happened. Oddly enough, if you make it through three quarters of Merci, you are rewarded with the obscure Magma classics ‘Eliphas Levi’ and ‘The Night We Died’, gorgeous pieces arranged for choral vocals and solo piano, which lay out much of the ground for Vander’s spin-off group Offering, and suggests that, had Vander simply stuck to his guns like he usually does, Merci could have been brilliant.
4. Pink Floyd – A Momentary Lapse Of Reason (1987)
More like A Momentary Lapse Of Quality Control, amiright? (Sadly, that suggests that the Floyd ever got it back). I hate this album. David Gilmour and Roger Waters had a symbiotic relationship – Waters needed Gilmour’s musicianship to support his bleakly misanthropic vision, but equally Gilmour needed Waters’ distinctive lyrical vision to bring out his best music. This is immediately shown by this incredibly lackluster LP. The feeling of confusion and disorientation expressed by the man awakening on a beach of beds on the cover reflects the fan’s reaction upon hearing Floyd’s first Watersless release. Without Waters’ lyrical output, Floyd are utterly toothless, and without his strong aesthetic vision, Gilmour and Mason and a bunch of session musicians bumble about in AOR Purgatory, composing limp power ballads and tuneless rockers. Fun fact – Antony Moore from Slapp Happy penned some of the album’s insipid and preachy lyrics, allowing the record to embarrass two prog rock legends for the price of one.
5. Marillion – Holidays In Eden (1991)
This album wasn’t actually released in the 80s, but as it falls prey to many of the same faults, and really it only just misses out, I thought I’d include it here, in the company it deserves. Marillion’s only crap album was a result of the record company simply not knowing what to do with the band. With Fish gone and the times changing, the hits were drying up, and the execs wanted to make sure the band behind such mega hits as ‘Kayleigh’ and ‘Lavender’ still delivered the goods. Want to hear the incredible, innovative solution? Ever thought Marillion would sound absolutely awesome if they sounded more like U2? Neither has anyone else in the history of the world, but that’s the album that EMI thought Marillion needed to make to keep shifting units. Holidays In Eden is a horrible record, the songs drowned in generic stadium rock production, all bland keyboards and Edge-inspired guitar parts. The whole process so disgusted Marillion that they withdrew to a European haunted castle, boarded themselves up for three years and returned with the awe-inspiring but thoroughly unsellable concept album Brave, beginning the end of their relationship with major labels and their switch to internet autonomy. Frustratingly, the bonus disc on the remastered reissue of Eden is all but essential, featuring raw live and stripped down acoustic takes of songs from the album. In this context, the songs are revealed to be brilliant, suggesting that, without executive meddling, Holidays In Eden could have been another classic.
posted by Jonathan Thornton at 3:14 am
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