Great Underappreciated or Obscure Albums 1 - TARKUS by Emerson Lake and Palmer (1971)
I shouldn't really like this. In many ways, Tarkus is the antithesis of everything I feel Rock music should be. I'm a punk, industrial, glam, new wave and garage rock fan, and guys like ELP were who we hated. They're pretentious. Arrogant. Bombastic. Over-the-top. Corny. And Tarkus is definitely ALL of those as well. But fuck me, somehow it's a truly brilliant album!
Maybe it's because it was their first stab at something so ambitious. Later albums are not nearly so enjoyable. Tarkus represents one last stab at proper psychedelia, something completely out-there and with an unparalleled sense of reckless abandon. Of course, I'm referring to the 20-minute title track, possibly the defining prog-rock track. Born from Keith Emerson's fascination with a set of paintings (that woul later become the album's sublime cover art), Carl Palmer's desire to toy around with new time signatures, and Greg Lake's musings on war, 'Tarkus' is a mind-blowing ramble, featuring shifting tempos, baroque organ and moog lines, arcane vocals and scattered drums. Musically, like most of ELP's work and a lot of all prog, the main influence is classical music, namely Bach. But rather than the pompousness of 'Karn Evil 9' or 'Trilogy', this immediately brings to mind not the tiring meanderings of the other prog bands, but rather the epic, aventurous and enthralling experimentation of the best of 60s psychedelia. Keith Emerson's keyboards owe a lot to Frank Zappa and Jimi Hendrix's guitar-playing. You can even feel the spirit of Iron Butterfly and The Grateful Dead, although played at break-neck speed and ear-splitting volume. Even the lyrics are worthy of the West Coast scene of the time: angry condemnations of war and violence that you can almost imagine being sung by Grace Slick rather than Greg Lake (how cool would they have sounded if that were true? Lake's not a bad vocalist, but he does take himself a bit too seriously). 'Tarkus' is certainly a pretentious song, complete with silly cowbells, interminable organ jams and a pretty self-satisfied feel to it, but this is starry-eyed pretention, the boundless enthusiasm of a generation that still feels it can change the world. Which is certainly preferable at times to Pink Floyd's self-absorbed arrogance or John Anderson's self-indulgent, know-all lyrics. For just this moment, ELP come across as the enthusiastic, youthful punk-rockers of prog, albeit with virtuoso musicianship and massive egos.
'Tarkus' (the song) opens with the sucker-punch that is 'Eruption'. A wave of synth noise and tape loops, and then suddenly everything bursts, and Palmer and Emerson kick in, with pummeling drums and vibrant organ drives. In all honesty, it's best to listen to 'Tarkus' whilst gazing at the album's superb artwork. The warbling keys and rolling drums perfectly evoke the birth of Tarkus as the armadillo-machine emerges from a torrent of lava. It may have a hippy-trippy tone to it, but this music remains violent and scary, as befits the arrival of Tarkus, the monster machine. 'Eruption' segues staright into 'Stone of Years', a true Lake anti-war diatribe that perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the piece. As Emerson and Palmer pummel away, the former King Crimson singer laments the loss of innocence, and the build-up of hatred and violence that has been of staple of humanity since time immemorate. Whilst most prog bands were only interested in displaying their instrumental virtuosity, ELP took time out to turn an acerbic gaze on modern society, and Man's thirst for violence, and 'Stone of Ages' demonstrates this singular trait. There are no magical elves, mystical mantras and lyrical flights of fancy here. ELP aim to hit hard and angry, and whilst Lake is no Dylan, it's mission achieved on 'Tarkus'.
Likewise, 'Battlefield' displays the singer's impressive and passionate vocal range as he rails against war mongers across the world, and treats us to a stupendous guitar solo in the process. Meanwile, Keith Emerson returns to the images of the album's artwork, using his moog and his Hammond to give life to Tarkus' monstrous enemy, the Manticore. Between Lake's political posturing and Emerson's esoteric musical evocation, 'Tarkus' becomes a stirring anti-war messsage, a violent and at times troubling tale of conflict and loss. In the last movement, Tarkus, vanquished by the Manticore, flees to the water in a deluge of warbling synths and rabid percussion. It's a breath-taking conclusion to a stupendously ambitious song. Throughout, Lake rages like a leftist activist, Emerson unleashes a veritable torrent of twisting, shimmering sounds and Palmer pounds away behind, driving the whole fantastic piece forwards with an energy and verve that can only come from being young and fearless and on top of the world! Such boundless enthusiasm is infectious, and ranks the 'Tarkus' suite as one of the most powerful songs of the early seventies.
Apart from the 'pretentious' gimmick, the other criticism aimed at Tarkus is that the rest of the album is a lot weaker than that gorgeous opening salvo. While this is undoubtedly true (they could hadly get any better), I think it doesn't do justice to some of the other tracks. Far from lacking the focus of 'Tarkus', the second half pursues the anti-war stance with 'The Only Way (Hymn)' and its vicious condemnation of Nazism. 'Bitches Crystal' and 'A Time and a Place' are driving psychedelic rushes of energy, carrying forward the sense of outrage and fury from the opening track, with powerful jazz elements reminiscent of the best of early King Crimson. The two 'throw-away' tracks, 'Jeremy Bender' and 'Are You Ready, Eddy?' are the most maligned due to their light-hearted, humerous content. At the same time, ELP are constantly lambasted for taking themselves too seriously. Seems they can't win. These two tracks prove they can have a laugh, and also tapped into the nascent glam-rock and retro trends that were springing up about the time this album was made.
Of course, Tarkus will always be remembered for the title track, and will be used by ELP's (numerous) detractors as just more evidence of the band's vacuousness. But if you open your mind enough, you soon realise just how seminal and powerful Tarkus really is. It's an album that defines an era: the last great age of innocence of Rock, when everything seemed possible and when music seemed the greatest weapon against the evils of the world. Surely that's not a bad thing, even if it was misguided?
PS - I know this isn't a Slowdive critique, but fuck it, I was listening to Tarkus and felt like adding this. Spontaneity, how "rock" is that? And, if this has somehow piqued anyone's interest in much-maligned or little-known progressive rock, here are some bands to check out, in addition to the inevitable (and often great) Floyd, Genesis, Yes and King Crimson: Caravan, Egg, Soft Machine, Henry Cow, Necronomicon, and above all, Van der Graaf Generator, the very best band that genre ever produced. I'll surely be mentioning a couple of them over the next few eternities.
I shouldn't really like this. In many ways, Tarkus is the antithesis of everything I feel Rock music should be. I'm a punk, industrial, glam, new wave and garage rock fan, and guys like ELP were who we hated. They're pretentious. Arrogant. Bombastic. Over-the-top. Corny. And Tarkus is definitely ALL of those as well. But fuck me, somehow it's a truly brilliant album!
Maybe it's because it was their first stab at something so ambitious. Later albums are not nearly so enjoyable. Tarkus represents one last stab at proper psychedelia, something completely out-there and with an unparalleled sense of reckless abandon. Of course, I'm referring to the 20-minute title track, possibly the defining prog-rock track. Born from Keith Emerson's fascination with a set of paintings (that woul later become the album's sublime cover art), Carl Palmer's desire to toy around with new time signatures, and Greg Lake's musings on war, 'Tarkus' is a mind-blowing ramble, featuring shifting tempos, baroque organ and moog lines, arcane vocals and scattered drums. Musically, like most of ELP's work and a lot of all prog, the main influence is classical music, namely Bach. But rather than the pompousness of 'Karn Evil 9' or 'Trilogy', this immediately brings to mind not the tiring meanderings of the other prog bands, but rather the epic, aventurous and enthralling experimentation of the best of 60s psychedelia. Keith Emerson's keyboards owe a lot to Frank Zappa and Jimi Hendrix's guitar-playing. You can even feel the spirit of Iron Butterfly and The Grateful Dead, although played at break-neck speed and ear-splitting volume. Even the lyrics are worthy of the West Coast scene of the time: angry condemnations of war and violence that you can almost imagine being sung by Grace Slick rather than Greg Lake (how cool would they have sounded if that were true? Lake's not a bad vocalist, but he does take himself a bit too seriously). 'Tarkus' is certainly a pretentious song, complete with silly cowbells, interminable organ jams and a pretty self-satisfied feel to it, but this is starry-eyed pretention, the boundless enthusiasm of a generation that still feels it can change the world. Which is certainly preferable at times to Pink Floyd's self-absorbed arrogance or John Anderson's self-indulgent, know-all lyrics. For just this moment, ELP come across as the enthusiastic, youthful punk-rockers of prog, albeit with virtuoso musicianship and massive egos.
'Tarkus' (the song) opens with the sucker-punch that is 'Eruption'. A wave of synth noise and tape loops, and then suddenly everything bursts, and Palmer and Emerson kick in, with pummeling drums and vibrant organ drives. In all honesty, it's best to listen to 'Tarkus' whilst gazing at the album's superb artwork. The warbling keys and rolling drums perfectly evoke the birth of Tarkus as the armadillo-machine emerges from a torrent of lava. It may have a hippy-trippy tone to it, but this music remains violent and scary, as befits the arrival of Tarkus, the monster machine. 'Eruption' segues staright into 'Stone of Years', a true Lake anti-war diatribe that perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the piece. As Emerson and Palmer pummel away, the former King Crimson singer laments the loss of innocence, and the build-up of hatred and violence that has been of staple of humanity since time immemorate. Whilst most prog bands were only interested in displaying their instrumental virtuosity, ELP took time out to turn an acerbic gaze on modern society, and Man's thirst for violence, and 'Stone of Ages' demonstrates this singular trait. There are no magical elves, mystical mantras and lyrical flights of fancy here. ELP aim to hit hard and angry, and whilst Lake is no Dylan, it's mission achieved on 'Tarkus'.
Likewise, 'Battlefield' displays the singer's impressive and passionate vocal range as he rails against war mongers across the world, and treats us to a stupendous guitar solo in the process. Meanwile, Keith Emerson returns to the images of the album's artwork, using his moog and his Hammond to give life to Tarkus' monstrous enemy, the Manticore. Between Lake's political posturing and Emerson's esoteric musical evocation, 'Tarkus' becomes a stirring anti-war messsage, a violent and at times troubling tale of conflict and loss. In the last movement, Tarkus, vanquished by the Manticore, flees to the water in a deluge of warbling synths and rabid percussion. It's a breath-taking conclusion to a stupendously ambitious song. Throughout, Lake rages like a leftist activist, Emerson unleashes a veritable torrent of twisting, shimmering sounds and Palmer pounds away behind, driving the whole fantastic piece forwards with an energy and verve that can only come from being young and fearless and on top of the world! Such boundless enthusiasm is infectious, and ranks the 'Tarkus' suite as one of the most powerful songs of the early seventies.
Apart from the 'pretentious' gimmick, the other criticism aimed at Tarkus is that the rest of the album is a lot weaker than that gorgeous opening salvo. While this is undoubtedly true (they could hadly get any better), I think it doesn't do justice to some of the other tracks. Far from lacking the focus of 'Tarkus', the second half pursues the anti-war stance with 'The Only Way (Hymn)' and its vicious condemnation of Nazism. 'Bitches Crystal' and 'A Time and a Place' are driving psychedelic rushes of energy, carrying forward the sense of outrage and fury from the opening track, with powerful jazz elements reminiscent of the best of early King Crimson. The two 'throw-away' tracks, 'Jeremy Bender' and 'Are You Ready, Eddy?' are the most maligned due to their light-hearted, humerous content. At the same time, ELP are constantly lambasted for taking themselves too seriously. Seems they can't win. These two tracks prove they can have a laugh, and also tapped into the nascent glam-rock and retro trends that were springing up about the time this album was made.
Of course, Tarkus will always be remembered for the title track, and will be used by ELP's (numerous) detractors as just more evidence of the band's vacuousness. But if you open your mind enough, you soon realise just how seminal and powerful Tarkus really is. It's an album that defines an era: the last great age of innocence of Rock, when everything seemed possible and when music seemed the greatest weapon against the evils of the world. Surely that's not a bad thing, even if it was misguided?
PS - I know this isn't a Slowdive critique, but fuck it, I was listening to Tarkus and felt like adding this. Spontaneity, how "rock" is that? And, if this has somehow piqued anyone's interest in much-maligned or little-known progressive rock, here are some bands to check out, in addition to the inevitable (and often great) Floyd, Genesis, Yes and King Crimson: Caravan, Egg, Soft Machine, Henry Cow, Necronomicon, and above all, Van der Graaf Generator, the very best band that genre ever produced. I'll surely be mentioning a couple of them over the next few eternities.
1 comment:
Crikey, Phimister! Y'll be tellin us next that you're an ELO fan. What a sell-out!
Nice review though.
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