I haven’t given progressive rock much thought in recent years. In high school, it seemed to be all I listened to. Not many a stray minute passed by where I didn’t have a CD player at my side, headphones plastered to my ears, my head bobbing to Yes, Genesis, ELP or King Crimson.
Though, even when I enjoyed it I’m not sure my head was bobbing. After developing a love for more simplistic and gut-busting styles such as punk and blues in college, enjoying progressive rock seemed more of a tedious, daunting task, predicated on analysis and dissection, rather than pure, visceral reflex, which – to me – is the key to enjoying rock and roll.
As my music preferences turned back toward groups who emphasized rock’s most basic elements (rhythm and the blues) and bands such as the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, the Patti Smith group and the Talking Heads became the go-to artists in my iPod, prog became too intellectual for me. It required too much thought to peel back the layers of a song like Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s ‘Tarkus’ or any of the tracks on Yes’ Tales From Topographic Oceans. It wasn’t music you could bob your head to and get up and dance to right away without thinking. You had to use your brain.
And so, I left progressive rock behind, until recently. In the past week, my iPod has played a bevy of songs by Yes and Genesis, much to my delight. I was taken by surprise one night by Genesis’ ‘The Battle of Epping Forest’ as I drifted off to sleep. I was immediately pulled out of my doze.
It was a revelation. The past 7 years of heavy blues and R&B listening had led me to believe that it took too much effort to parse through the dense instrumentation (and lyrics) of Yes or Genesis to find any trace of basic pop music. But, it was all there right from the outset. Above the time changes, multiple movements and complex rhythms were simple pop songs.
I realize that what I experienced anew may only apply to certain progressive rock groups whose main songwriters had a knack for writing catchy hooks and incorporating pop song structures. For every songwriter like Peter Gabriel, you have writers like Greg Lake and Keith Emerson, who, with ELP, championed pretentious symphonic rock and bombast.
But, as the week wore on, I heard songs from such groups as Yes and Rush (early Rush) and found myself focusing on the poppier (and rockier) elements of the songs with ease. I didn’t need to peel back the layers of Yes’ ‘And You and I,’ because the pop was apparent in Jon Anderson’s vocal melody and Steve Howe’s repetitive three-chord rhythm.
And then the Rush. Forget their synth-laden albums of the 1980s, these three dudes rocked. Listen to ‘By-Tor and the Snow Dog’ from Fly By Night, and you’ll think you’re listening to a Coheed & Cambria song. Guitarist Alex Lifeson strums as if he were in the Ramones as the song chugs furiously through three movements. Two albums later, by 2112 the band would be in full-on prog mode, writing a song that would take up a whole album side, telling the story of a futuristic solar war. But, Geddy Lee and co. still told the story by blasting listeners with guitar, bass, drums and vocals. If anything in 2112 was obtuse or dense, it was Neal Peart’s lyrics.
I’m excited to see where this newfound appreciation for progressive rock will take me. I figure it may be time to expand beyond the confines of Yes, Genesis, King Crimson and Pink Floyd, pull out my Soft Machine albums and delve into the Canterbury Scene. Have any Gong albums you’d like to recommend?
