the conditions of emergence of the phenomenon itself. I originally took up some of these questions in a section in music of Yes (pp. 37–45); here I will rearticulate these themes and expand on them. Definitions can be dangerous, they can be confining (“by definition,” this is what definitions are all about)—and this is especially a problem where such an expansive phenomenon as progressive rock is concerned. My aim will be to generate a definition that is enabling, that helps rather than hinders understanding. To this end, in the second chapter I will also take up a rather large group of bands that are not ordinarily grouped under the heading “progressive rock”—as that term is understood or, in fact, badly understood, today—yet were clearly a part of the expansion of rock music’s possibilities in the early seventies. This is a large set of groups—I’m thinking of such exciting and innovative artists as Traffic, Chicago, Steely Dan, Santana (to name some of the famous ones). My aim will not be to say anything definitive about these groups (though they are all deserving of extended treatment), but more to deal with the expansion and contraction of the phenomenon and definition of progressive rock itself.
In the third chapter I will also deal with the fact that, although not all progressive rock bands are from England, by any stretch, there is something about the progressive trend that is very centered in England.
Finally, in chapter 4, I will turn to the bands and their music. As the subtitle indicates, chapter 4 is meant as a kind of annotated discography. Even though the chapter is quite long, my aim was to create something that the reader could move through at a fairly quick pace, mainly in order to get a sense of the rhythms and dimensions of the larger progressive movement. In my final chapter, I will take up developments in progressive rock beyond its “time.” In the main, however, I limit more extensive discussion to groups that made important albums in the years 1968 to 1978. (Admittedly, even this choice of years is somewhat conditioned by the desire to present a nice, even decade.) I will deal with both the famous and the obscure—making it plain that, just because some groups such as Yes or Emerson, Lake, and Palmer became quite famous does not mean that they were necessarily more “commercial” or “watered down” (I don’t know who could call Tales from Topographic Oceans “commercial” or “Karn Evil Nine, 2nd Impression” “watered down”). There’s a tendency to punish some of these groups for their fame, when, in fact, they were also making better music than some of the more obscure groups. At the same time, some other groups were undeservedly obscure and were certainly as creative as the more famous groups. In other words, I focus on quality, not quantity of albums or concert seats sold.
In what, I am sure, will be a controversial move, I divide the discussion of groups in chapter 4 into three categories. First, I make a distinction between what I see as the “first-line” and the “second-line” groups. The first line consists in what I will argue are the most consistently innovative contributors to the genre. Of this list of thirteen groups, about five or six of these would be in the category of less famous, while the others are fairly well known (of course, most of them will be familiar to long-time followers of the genre). In alphabetical order, these are the “first-line” groups of progressive rock: Caravan, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, Genesis, Gentle Giant, Gong, Henry Cow, Jethro Tull, King Crimson, Magma, Mahavishnu Orchestra, PFM, Soft Machine, and Yes.
My second category will also be controversial. Within the category of “first line,” I will identify two groups in particular as the pillars of progressive rock, namely King Crimson and Yes. This does not mean that these groups were or are absolutely the best of the lot—though, in my opinion, they are. Instead, the idea is that these two groups, taken together, give us something like an “archetype” for the genre.
A smaller, but still significant, part of the fourth chapter will be devoted to a much longer list of groups, approximately fifty of them, that are both less well known and are among the less “heavy hitters” and are more peripheral to the progressive trend. They constitute, in other words, the “second line.” This category includes groups such as Curved Air, Greenslade, Egg, Nektar, Jonesy—to name a few. Here I will not attempt to be exhaustive, but I will try to give readers/listeners access to this easily forgotten chapter in rock music (and even a forgotten chapter of progressive rock music). In the resources section, I will also give some sources where listeners can obtain albums by these groups. In every case, these groups have made at least one important album and therefore a real contribution to progressive rock.
In making the “first-line”/“second-line” distinction, I will undoubtedly rankle a few readers. My hope is not only to make some judgments of quality, but also to provoke further discussion. If a disgruntled reader wants to launch a campaign to demonstrate that, in fact, Grobschnitt should have been considered within the first line, then let’s debate it out in the newsletters, journals, and other forums. I should say, as well, and by way of preparation, that just because I think some of these bands are more important does not mean that I wish to diminish the contributions of the others. On the contrary, I hope to show that progressive rock in the seventies was a very diverse and vibrant trend. At the very end of chapter 4 I present a list of fifty-nine of the most noteworthy albums, which would form a solid basis for a progressive rock album collection.
Finally, in chapter 5, I will discuss the fate and possibilities of progressive rock after its “time,” that is, after 1978. I will consider the factors that led to the close of the progressive rock era as a major musical trend, as well as the more recent trajectories of some of the principal groups as they navigate the post-progressive period. Some attention will be given to punk, new wave, and recent music that might be called “postmodern.” I will also discuss the music and thoughts of Brian Eno as a figure who bridges the progressive era and postmodern music. Finally, considering Yes’s recent Keys to Ascension, I will ask whether progressive rock has a chance of once again becoming a force in the world.
In the afterword I will share a few thoughts on Paul Stump’s recent book, The Music’s All That Matters, especially concerning the distinction he makes between “alternative” and “mainstream” progressive rock. I will also discuss alternative approaches to the genre that might prove fruitful for future research.
Is there hope for the future? I see this book as an attempt to gather a few, mostly overlooked, seeds of redemption, and I look forward to a larger discussion with readers regarding the possibility of the sort of society that could enable good music, and the sort of music that might encourage us to work toward mutual human flourishing in a good society.
The prehistory of progressive rock: Generosity and synthesis
Above all, rock music is two things: it is synthetic, and it is generous. Taken together, these elements ensure that, at least in some significant sense, there always has been a progressive trend in rock music. One can only hope that the ongoing corporate commodification of everything will not lead to a day when the possibility of a progressive trend no longer exists. This more ominous thought properly belongs to the final chapter of this investigation, however: here, let’s focus on a much happier subject, the way that rock music became the first truly global music of immense possibility.
My aim in this chapter is to present a somewhat potted history of rock music—or, at least, a series of reflections upon that history—from the standpoint of progressive rock. Admittedly, this is something of a perverse project in that we will be pretending that progressive rock was the destination of rock music from its origins. The reality is otherwise, of course: rock music is a very big tree, with many diverse branches. (It is significant, though, how often the branches—or at least twigs here and there—intertwine. This can be seen most graphically in Pete Frame’s rock family trees.) I’m not of the opinion that progressive rock, or even what I would more broadly call “experimental rock,” is the only musically valid branch of the tree. An analogy might be made to Western classical music. Was it a valid creative approach for composers such as Leonard Bernstein or Benjamin Britten to write works more in the mainstream of the classical style, when avant-garde composers such as John Cage or Elliot Carter were working far outside of the classical