Bill Martin

Listening to the Future


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handful can truly be considered concept albums in the thematic sense. (One example is Thick as a Brick—though, as readers undoubtedly know, it’s more than a little difficult to figure out exactly what the “concept” is in this case.) However, if instead we stretch the definition a bit, to where the album is the concept, then it is clear that progressive rock is entirely a music of concept albums—and this flows rather directly out of Rubber Soul (December 1965) and then Revolver (1966), Pet Sounds, and Sergeant Pepper’s.

      Without getting too ahead of our story, we might note at this point that, in the wake of these albums, many rock musicians took up the “complete album approach.” One magnificent example is Stevie Wonder’s trilogy: Talking Book (1972), Innervisions (1973), and Songs in the Key of Life (1976). (There are a few weak moments on the last of these, but then, there are a few weak moments on the White Album, too.) Another great example is War’s All Day Music (1971). These albums might belong to their own category: call it “progressive soul”—but, since they are coming out of rock music no less than Sergeant Pepper’s, why separate them from progressive rock? I will develop this question in the next chapter, but I want to make it clear at this point that the categories I will attempt to delineate are not meant as valorizations in and of themselves. Certainly the presence of these complete albums in the early and middle seventies demonstrates a very broad progressive approach that many rock musicians were taking up—these musicians were trying to say important things, working the terms of the culture in a critical way and with an adventurous musical style.12 What I am going to call “progressive rock” was just one segment of this larger trend—though one that has been much undervalued since its heyday. Going a bit further, it might also be argued that progressive rock was the core of this trend; I offer as “exhibit A” in this case the fact that, after the time of progressive rock, the tendency was for “albums” to once again be simply loose collections of songs.

      Significantly, what this shows us is that progressive rock represented a concentration and heightening of all the trends in rock music that were set against the merely “pop” sensibility: the underground and developmental aspects, the complete album approach, generosity and synthesis. After the time of progressive rock, the dynamic that extended from the originators, through the Beatles, and to the broad progressive trend, was broken. How that happened will be explored in the final chapter of this book; for present purposes, however, the fact of this break demonstrates, in retrospect, that there really is such a thing as the prehistory of progressive rock.

      Let us turn now to an altogether too-quick look at the further steps that led to the emergence of “full-blown” progressive rock. It is useful to keep in mind that everything that will be discussed in these next few pages happened in the space of about two or three years. Because there is so much to say about these years, roughly from 1966 to 1969—or from Pet Sounds and Sergeant Pepper’s to In the Court of the Crimson King—I am in fact not going to say much at all. Indeed, it pains me to even mention, with almost nothing in way of thematic development, the next set of groups whose music will simply be used as a stepping stone. The point is simply to show, in broad terms, the creative milieu that made it possible for progressive rock to become the next logical step—even if this step also represented a qualitative leap. In concluding this chapter, let us set the stage for progressive rock; some of the themes introduced here will be developed extensively in the next chapter.

      Insomuch as any attempt to expunge progressive rock from music history must ultimately come to terms with the later Beatles, let us remind ourselves of the many attempts on the part of other bands to make their own Sergeant Pepper’s. Among these albums found under the long shadow of the Sergeant we find such disparate works as the Grateful Dead’s Anthem of the Sun and Simon and Garfunkel’s Bookends (both 1968)—and, for that matter, In the Court of the Crimson King (1969), on which much more will be said in the chapters to come. Let’s take a moment to consider what might be thought of as the “dark side” of Sergeant Pepper’s, namely the Rolling Stone’s brilliant Their Satanic Majesties Request. If any album is a direct response to Sergeant Pepper’s, it is this one.

      Significantly, Satanic Majesties so obviously belongs to the set of “transitions to progressive rock” that many hardcore Stones fans do not like the album at all. In fact, in Rock: The Rough Guide, a publication written by fans, Peter Shapiro writes:

      Brian Jones was fascinated with Moroccan music and obsessed with keeping up with the Beatles, of which there is ample evidence on “Paint It Black.” This reached its peak with The Stones’ response to Sgt. Pepper, the appalling Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967) which trawled the depths of 60s drug culture with its awful sci-fi concept and misguided space music. (p. 738)

      To this, allow me to say that I like the album very much; in fact, on most days I would rather listen to it than Sergeant Pepper’s, because of the darkness of it. I’m not myself a fan of the drug culture of any period; however, one gets the sense from this reviewer that the problem isn’t so much the drugs, but instead which drugs; that is, the sort of Stones fan who dislikes progressive rock (I’d like to think that one could appreciate both for what they are) most likely prefers that Mick, Keith, and company stay with the drunk or strung-out variety of mind-altering substances rather than the sort that gets you onto Trans-Love Airways (“gets you there on time”—Donovan) or some other “sci-fi” excursion.

      Now we have two further elements for consideration, psychedelia and science fiction. Both play important roles in progressive rock, each especially in their more visionary and utopian aspects. Of the many songs that could be mentioned in this connection, two from the late sixties that especially capture the visionary-psychedelic mood are “Journey to the Center of the Mind,” by Ted Nugent and the Amboy Dukes, and “Crystal Blue Persuasion,” by Tommy James and the Shondells. Shortly thereafter we hear the even dreamier works of Hendrix, Cream, and then two groups that overlap significantly with progressive rock “proper,” the Moody Blues and Pink Floyd. In Rocking the Classics, Edward Macan especially sees psychedelic music’s tendency toward time dilation and warping—i.e., playing long, trippy jams—as important in the transition to progressive rock (see pp. 18–23). All of this music came out in a very brief period, so similarities here are one part influence and one part Zeitgeist. The relationship between psychedelic and progressive rock will be explored in greater detail in the next chapter.

      The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Cream also represent an interesting recapitulation of the blues roots of rock music, combined with extension, vision, and virtuosity. One argument that I will make in the next chapter is that a key element of progressive rock is virtuoso musicianship. Many of the musicians in groups such as the Beach Boys and the Beatles are underrated. However, with the arrival of Jack Bruce, Ginger Baker, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Mitch Mitchell, John Entwistle, Jimmy Page, and others on the scene, we have entered the time of really excellent musicians who happen to play rock.

      Of course, one might also say that the stage was well set at this point for everything to go completely overboard—and that progressive rock is exactly what you get when extended demonstrations of rock musicianship are ratcheted up that final notch. Well, it’s true that progressive rock, to say nothing of Clapton or Hendrix, sometimes went overboard. The other much-used term that comes up in this context is “pretentious.” My argument will be that the best works of progressive rock (or Cream or Hendrix, for that matter) justify the risks or overextensions that were required—such risks are part of music that aims to develop.

      We cannot leave the realm of the late-sixties rock adventure without touching on two more bands, namely The Who and Led Zeppelin. They are another pair who reach back to the roots of rock and forward to sonic and intellectual