Van Der Graaf Generator The Quiet Zone/The Pleasure Dome (1977)

from progarchives.com

Review by Queen By-Tor

One thing I’ve always found interesting about Van Der Graaf Generator’s discography was this album. Before I even heard the record it was appealing to me for a couple reasons. It’s the black sheep – it’s not seen as anywhere near their best albums and it’s considered very strange and… It’s not even by Van Der Graaf Generator [VdGG] per se. This is an album by Van Der Graaf [VdG], as Peter Hammil decided to shorten the name since it did not feature the entire normal lineup (even if David Jackson would make guest appearances). While it’s very much considered a full-fledged VdGG album it’s very clear that they were trying to do something different here.

First and foremost the album is split in two. The two sides named respectively The Quite Zone and The Pleasure Dome are two very different entities – one focused on the lo-key and reflective, the other focused on a kind of inner madness that propels the songs. It’s also good to note that while Jackson still makes appearances they’re far and few compared to VdGG’s normal work. Brought much to the foreground of this album is the string sections and the percussions, likely to cover up for the lesser amount of Sax. This makes for a very different sounding album from the band – and it’s a nice change. This one sounds very clean and proper as opposed to their normal madness. The madness is still there, of course, but it’s smoothed over. Guitars also have a spot on here, but they’re very much in the back ground – not a lead instrument at all as we can expect from the band. The compositions are also shorter here. All of them ranging between 4 and 6 minutes, but that’s okay because they’re all very solid tunes. In terms of style this one follows close to their previous offering World Record but in a much improved from since this time around they don’t sound like a bunch of tired lackluster players but instead a band who wants to keep it lo-key for a while.

As mentioned before, the two sides are very different. The Quiet Zone features the more laid back songs, opening with the catchy Lizard Play with it’s infectious rhythm section. This is likely the biggest standout on the first side – it’s laid back pacing and sharp delivery makes for a very interesting contrast with the strings which are quite piercing. Other songs such as the melancholic The Habit Of The Broken Heart follow suite with the slow approach which works quite well – the bass becoming the driving force of the song. The Siren Song is a pretty and delicate song that starts to get heavy around the middle while Last Frame shows a bit more of that biting evil side of Hammil that we’re used to.

Moving onto the second side is where the album gets really good. But first – take everything you know about the band and throw it out the window. The band that used to make black clouds gather overhead when they played is still here – but they’ve started to pick up the pace. Cat’s Eye/Yellow Fever (Running) is a true blue VdGG masterpiece compressed into a five and a half minute song. Frantic strings make for a very fast song that will very likely catch you off guard the first time around. It’s also strange because this is almost a dancable song without becoming unlikeable. Almost a punk song turned prog this is one that has a lot of force and aggression behind it – very cool indeed. The Sphinx In The Face is another tune very much quick and unlike VdGG – catchy and almost pure rock but without the guitar. Chemical World is another very cool song – this one more to the madness of Hammil that we’re used to once again, his voice effects making for a very chilling tune.

All in all a very excellent and somewhat overlooked album. Nothing like the band in their classic era but a very worthy addition to any collection be you a fan of the band or not. Quite surprisingly accessible considering the band, in fact. A huge improvement over their previous record and unfortunately their last for a couple of decades. 4 cat’s eyes out of 5! Excellent.

Van Der Graaf Generator Godbluff (1975)

From progarchives.com

Review by Gatot

This album remarks the comeback of the band after a four year break from the music industry. The front-man Peter Hammill released quite a number of albums during that time. They came back to the studio and recorded this wonderfully crafted album (released in 1975) that I think it’s a true masterpiece. I have to admit that due to this album, my appreciation on VdGG music had grown significantly and I started to appreciate their early albums which were too dark and too depressive in mood to my personal taste. Godbluff still project the dark mood but musically it’s much more mature compared to their early records. I remember vividly when this album was released, a year later I got a cassette version on this and I talked to myself: “Wow! This is the music that I’m looking for!”.

Talking on a music spectrum, this album is heavily loaded with Hugh Banton’s wailing organ work combined with multi-registered voice of Peter Hammill (Jeezzz!! I like his curved voice lines!) and . David Jackson saxophone work. Admittedly, I’m not a great fan of saxophone; but with this record? Oh man . this one must be treated differently! It’s also the case with Dick Parry’s work on Pink Floyd stuffs which I also like it. But, don’t ask me to enjoy Kenny G’s work man .!! No way!! Enuff .. enuff .. Back to Godbluff, the music is tightly composed with great arrangements and powerful songwriting.

The album comprises four approximately equal-length songs that all of them project a uniformity in mood and style even though the melody is totally different from one song to another. that provides the semblance of a central concept, even if there isn’t one that I can see. Jackson provides flute playing to “The Undercover Man” and “The Sleepwalkers” especially on softer parts which usually are very beautiful segments to my personal taste. Evans punctuates each Jackson sax burst with a sort of rapid-fire staccato that characterizes the music of Van der Graaf Generator. At first listening experiences I tended to put my best favorite track was “The Sleepwalkers” because it has powerful pondering vocals with high energy music that combines aggressive sax work by David Jackson as well as stunning organ work by Hugh Banton. But with some more listens I felt that “The Undercover Man” which has a floating melody and accentuated vocals was becoming another favorite of mine. The list did not stop there as the other two tracks “Scorched Earth” and “Arrow” did become my other favorites as well. So, what can I say if I love all of the four tracks? Is there any favorite? I don’t think so because I love all of them, finally – with the passage of time, of course. That’s what might happen to you if you are newbie to VdGG music. You might like only one track but with more spins it would grow. I’m sure on this. Try it.

“Godbluff” (and “Still Life” – the follow-up that was released a year later) represents the band at their peak, with a tight composition, mature lyrical contribution from Hammill combined with the powerful songwriting the band members contributed. The combined creativity of the four musicians creates a wonderful music that uplifts our emotion whenever we listen to the album from the CD player or even whenever we sing the song inside our mind without playing the CD at all (like what I’m doing now when I’m writing this review with labor of love). Some people mention that Pawnheart was the band’s masterpiece but I think they should also include these two albums as well. VdGG was one of the bands that pioneered prog rock in the seventies. Highly recommended.

Review by ZowieZiggy

This was my first VDGG contemporary album. I purchased it at the time of release (1975). Before this one, I got already acquainted with their work (I had their major three albums : “The Least”, “H To He” and “Pawn Hearts”). But I bought them all in 1974 (after their release) at the age of fifteen.

You can consider that I am a die-hard VDGG fan both generations, but I prefer the band after their first break (which is actually their second one if you consider that they broke already before the release of “The Aerosol…”). They will produce more accessible music, and two masterpieces of prog music, IMO.

“The Undercover Man” is one of my all time VDGG fave (all periods). Light flute in the intro, “peaceful” vocals to start. Very melodious. The rest of the band then joins : first Hugh with subtle organ in the background, then Guy with very light percussions. Vocals then turns out to be incredibly sentimental while the band plays crescnedo and reaches full power. What a great track ! A pure beauty. The middle instrumental section is very strong but never enters into this weird trip so typical of VDGG first generation. Its finale is so emotional and beautiful. I remember that I was really charmed by this song when I got the album. An absolute highlight.

With “Scorched Earth” we enter their more classical repertoire, less melodious, darker, intricated. It is a very well bulit song, with a very tortured Peter and some outrageous sax from Jackson. He is so skilled at his instrument that he (but also Peter) turned me into a fan of their music although I usually do not like sax at all. The finale is just great. Another highlight.

“Arrow” is a very complex song, wild at times and difficult to enter into. Great drumming from Evans and very strong sax from Dave (this guy is really great). This is the most reminiscent track of their first era. This makes of “Godbluff” the missing link between “Pawn Hearts” and “Still Life”.

My second best here is “The Sleepwalkers” I really like it a lot. The intro is just nice and gentle, but when the vocals start, it turns out to be another scary one. We’ll have a cha cha cha break for some relief before an incredible strong sax part and marvelous, melodious Peter. The instrumental break shows the whole band in its full power : Banton, Evans and Jakson accomplishing a great moment of VDGG music. Really powerful and almost sublime (really). These 10’31” summarizes very well the second era of this wonderful band. Melodious at times, just complex enough during others (it would not be VDG otherwise) ! This track is so intense with the whole band playing at his best than I just felt in love with it.

On the remastered CD, there are two bonus songs from Peter solo’s repertoire (both from “The Silent Corner & the Empty Stage”). The sound quality is rather poor, but hey man, these are documents (they were recorded during a concert at Rimini (Italy) on August 9th, 1975) ! They are welcome since the original album was quite short (at least to VDGG standards).

I would of course suggest you to buy the Godbluff DVD produced by the Belgian TV and recorded in Charleroi (not the fanciest place in Belgium for a prog concert). I will tell you more about it in my review for this work though.

Five stars for this great come back and a must owned in your prog collection.

Van Der Graaf Generator Godbluff (1975)

From johnmcferrinmusicrevoews.org

This isn’t quite as good as H to He, but in some ways it’s a more impressive achievement, if only because it shows that VDGG could, after reaching their peak and subsequently declining (not to mention that whole four-year disbanding thing), still come back and make a really good album. Even more interesting to me is that the band managed to change quite a bit in those four years … no, wait, scratch that. The band stayed exactly the same as far as instrumental style and texture goes (and the songs are still long, seeing as there are only four of them), but Hammill, largely because of a (by 1975) well-established solo career, changed his writing approach considerably. The best news, as far as I’m concerned, is that the excessively over-the-top aspects of Peter’s lyrics and singing have virtually dissipated – in other words, the man who always walked the line between clever and banal largely eliminated the banal, which means that I have almost no problem enjoying Peter full time on this album.

Related to this, the band has gone back to the coffee-shop sound of H to He (as opposed to the icky, pseudo-universalist sound of the albums surrounding it), yet even more stripped down – the overall sound is very low-key and meditative, yet there are some parts that manage to rock harder than anything in the band’s catalogue to that point. As strange as it seems, this is the kind of album that makes me understand why Johnny Rotten liked this band – the band really “comes back to earth” with this album, much as punk rock brought “normal” rock music back to earth for so many people. The band’s style is the same, yes, but the senseless “atmospheric” noodling is (mostly) gone, and the result is that the same combination of players that often seemed so befuddling before (largely because there were too many layers of each player – not that I have anything against overdubs in general) manages to kick a good amount of ass in more than a few spots on the album. Whodathunkit?

So anyway, the album is four tracks, all of them good. “The Undercover Man” surprised me quite a bit the first time I heard it, if only because I couldn’t totally believe that VDGG could exercise such a drastic amount of restraint over an extended period of time as shown here. For almost twenty seconds, it’s just a VERY quiet repeated flute note flipping from channel to channel, with a quiet repetition of a cymbal tap and a keyboard note after a bit – no “atmospheric” wind noises like on “Darkness,” just a musical whisper. And then Peter starts singing, almost in a whisper himself, with no special effects whatsoever (THANK. YOU.). It all slowly gets louder (with the band basically holding the same minimalistic groove) over time, with an ever-growing obviousness as one listens that Peter’s singing lyrics that are actually worth listening to (I think the point of them is that we each have a hidden side that we hide only because of our own stubborness and fear, and that if we’re not careful, that hidden side will someday need to reach out to somebody, but nobody will be there – I think, though I could be way off), yet never abandons pleasantness for abrasion. And so it goes, with Peter using the power of his voice as only he can, while the band supports him but never overshadows him. Of course, one can point out one little nitpick (from a “regular” music standpoint) for the track – on a formal level, the vocal melody is really just one giant verse sung twice, a kind of massive musical run-on sentence. Frankly, though, I don’t care here – in terms of entrancing somebody, putting somebody under a spell, however you want to phrase it, I’ve heard very few who can match Peter’s ability in this department (the one person I would put ahead is another Peter, he of Gabriel fame), and his skills are on full display here.

“Scorched Earth” slightly recalls the bad sides of the first incarnation of VDGG, if only because Peter comes a little close to his bag-of-banal-tricks a couple of times in his delivery (“It’s far too late to turn, unless it’s to stone” bugs me a bit, as does “He’s walking right into a *traptraptraptrap…*”), but I don’t really mind, as the primary riffs of the song tend to knock me into next week. I get somewhat tired of the track around the five minute mark (which is a problem given that it’s 9:48), as it goes into a bit too much of VDGG-noodle mode in parts and drives the great riffs a bit too much into the ground in others, but that just means I don’t adore the track, not that I at all hate it (which I do not). This is not a crime, so don’t flame me like it is one.

Flipping over to side two, we come to “Arrow,” which starts with a minute-and-a-half of what sounds to my plebian ears like free jazz, before a phased guitar line quietly comes in and the other instruments slowly build up around it in a gloriously anthemic fashion. Finally, about 3:10 into the track, we get Peter growling out some solid apocalyptic lyrics to what turns out to be an extremely catchy vocal melody, full of impressive buildups and climaxes that each end with him bellowing the word “ARRROOOOOOW.” The most delightful surprise comes about 5:25 in, where the band manages to seriously and legitimately rock for the first time in as long as I can remember – it’s mostly a stately, simple saxophone phrase played repeatedly in different ways, with a solid rhythmic foundation, but holy cow it rocks like mad, before Peter comes back to do his thing some more. And oh how he does his thing some more – the tension and fear, crossed with the maddening sense of inevitability leading to the end, capped off with “How strange my body FEEELS IMPAAAAAAAAALED UPON THE ARRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOW” is probably the single greatest vocal passage on an album full of great vocal passages.

After the band gradually brings “Arrow” to a close after Peter’s shining moment, we come to the best of the four, “The Sleepwalkers.” The lyrics are some of Peter’s best, yet as tends to happen in my favorite VDGG tracks, it’s the music that mostly steals the show. The main organ-sax riff is instantly recognizable as prog-rock because of how involved and untrivial it is, yet it’s almost, I dunno, goofy, if goofy can be used for a song as gloomy as most of this is. I say most because the song also features one of the most gloriously macabre sections I’ve heard in prog rock, a slight Vaudeville pastiche (built around Peter’s vocal melody for the rest of the track) that, for whatever reason, strikes me as the perfect smart-alleck soundtrack to watching a bunch of sleepwalkers (or undead zombies, for that matter – hey, the only difference between the two is that one is technically alive). But other than that, it’s all sorts of doom and gloom in the music, all to great effect. The quiet keyboard flourish when Peter sings, “but soon the dream is ended,” which also pops up at the very end, combined with the terrific hard-rock groove the band goes into at the five-minute mark (a mode in which the rest of the piece stays, including after Peter comes back in with the vocals) is enough to make me easily put this in my top 5 VDGG tracks. Honestly, the album is worth buying for this track alone.

To wrap it up: yes, the album is a tough nut to crack, and yes, I can see where many people would not want to expend the energy to try and crack it beyond a couple of listens. Yes, there are some parts that remind me why it is I only gave VDGG **. But dang it, this album has grown mercilessly on me over the months and years, and while I don’t think it will grow much further, I nevertheless happily recommend it to all music fans the world over. Heck, even somebody who thinks they hate VDGG could enjoy this.

Van Der Graaf Generator Pawn Hearts (1971)

From sputnikmusic.com

Review Summary: It’s one of the greatest masterpieces of the band and represents the peak of their career. This is one of the most heavy, insane and bizarre albums I’ve ever heard.

“Pawn Hearts” is the fourth studio album of Van Der Graaf Generator and was released in 1971. The line up on the album is Peter Hammill, Hugh Banton, David Jackson and Guy Evans. The album had also the participation of Robert Fripp on electric guitar.

Van Der Graaf Generator is one of those obscure groups that unfortunately only a very small and faithful bunch of fans and specialized critics in the progressive rock music, really heard something about. Even in the progressive rock world, Van Der Graaf Generator is one of those bands that fans don’t speak constantly about. However, many references to Van Der Graaf Generator’s music can be found in a lot of other works from so many different groups. The albums from the group have tended to be, both lyrically and musically, darker in atmosphere than many of their progressive rock pairs. About “Pawn Hearts”, we can say that it represents certainly the crowning achievement of the group. It’s majestic, complex and often times psychotic, capturing in the entire perfection the group’s very own musical world. If we have to describe “Pawn Hearts” we can say that it sounds more like music that was composed and performed by a genius locked in an insane asylum. This is really a very unique and special album, even inside the band’s discography.

“Pawn Hearts” is Van Der Graaf Generator’s most complex and challenging album. The track listing consists of just three titles, two ten minutes long suites on the first side “Lemmings (Including Cog)” and “Man-Erg” and a twenty-three minutes long suite on the second one “A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers”, further subdivided into ten different subsections, a trick used later by Genesis on “Supper’s Ready”. These three long tracks on the album are all stuffed with the typical Hammill-sounding melodies and themes relieved by a progressive, complex and disharmonic energy of a kind that will leave you breathless. Personally, I think these variations between structured melodic themes to ugly, noisy and disharmonic parts, often places the music of Van Der Graaf Generator in the same vein as King Crimson but, of course, with a sound totally of their own. So, may not be really a great surprise the presence of Fripp on this album.

“Lemmings (Including Cog)” contains lyrically some of the most uplifting, revelatory and extraordinary messages in rock music, descrying the incessant hopelessness of society. By calling for the preservation of human livelihood, the song rails against the collective suicidal tendencies of the human race. Musically, it begins with an acoustic guitar, which is soon joined by a gradually increasing of music. The song progresses in a true fashion through entirely before ending on an almost unfinished note. This is a great track with a very deep and complex content, both lyrically and musically. “Man-Erg” is no less complex and it also deals with insanity.

The character questions who he really is, and he contemplates the differences in men, which ultimately leads to his realization that in all men is the same, regardless of what an individual man might stand for or has accomplished. In other words, a man is just a man. Musically, this is another gorgeous track with soulful vocal deliverance by Hammill. Jackson also shines on this song. His saxophone accompaniment enhances the composition in a unique and extraordinary fashion. This is another excellent track. “A Plague Of Lightouse Keepers” is a musical suite divided into ten parts and represents the epic track of the album. Lyrically, it’s about the lighthouse keeper’s loneliness that slowly leads to their eventual insanity. The imagery and terror of this track far transcends the normal rock lyrics, and the lyrics would seem more fitting as an Edgar Allen Poe’s poem. Musically, it’s an amazing track that is all over the map and features some great performances from all involved, including Fripp who ends the track with a really outstanding and beautiful guitar solo. This track is musically and lyrically a masterpiece and is mainly dominated by Hammill’s lyrics and vocals and the saxophones of Jackson.

Conclusion: “Pawn Hearts” is the most complex and challenging album from Van Der Graaf Generator. This album has all and is a perfect work, if you’re already a progressive rock fan. The three long tracks are all stuffed with the typical band’s sounding melodies and themes, relieved by a progressive, complex and disharmonic energy of a kind that will leave you breathless. It has incredible dense lyrics, extremely diversified instrumentation and great dark overtones. It’s rather curious, but this is one of the heaviest albums I ever listened to, and yet, it has nothing to do with metal. It’s just so dark and insane that it has an extremely heavy feel to it, and it will burn up your ears, if you aren’t ready for it. Sincerely, I really think that “Pawn Hearts” is simply one of the best albums ever made in any musical genre. Which is most interesting, bizarre and dramatic is that with “Pawn Hearts”, Van Der Graaf Generator has reached their peak artistically, although financially they were broken and they needed to split during a couple of years, for the first time.

Van der Graaf Generator – The least we can do is wave to each other (1970)

From thevinyldistrict,.com

I’ve spent the entire day toting up the odds. Of yours truly, music’s Prog-Hater-in-Chief, actually happening upon a progressive rock LP I truly like. Sure, there are one or two Genesis LPs I can tolerate, but truly like? Nah. Which is what makes Van Der Graaf Generator’s 1970 sophomore LP, The least we can do is wave to each other, so remarkable. Mikey likes it.

There are several reasons for this unprecedented occurrence. The first are the frenetic horns of David Jackson, who was known to pull the occasional Rahsaan Roland Kirk and play alto and tenor saxophone simultaneously. More importantly, they weren’t averse to producing a clamorous din. While most of their prog compatriots were beholden to the staid and stately classical tradition, where every note has its place, Van der Graaf Generator went in the direction of free jazz squeal and skronk, producing a noise that most likely would have caused Emerson, Lake and Palmer to thrust their fingers into their ears and squeal girlishly, “Make it stop!”

Finally, they don’t go in for the forty tempo changes per minute that make prog so unlistenable to me. Their songs progress with minimal muss and fuss, and for the most part the band doesn’t attempt to show off its technical prowess by writing songs so intricately complex that Bach would have said, “Cheese it boys. Simpler is better.” I will concede that Peter Hammill’s histrionic vocals are an acquired taste, but for the most part the prog pomp and circumstance stops there.

Jackson’s squealing dual saxophones dominate debut cut “Darkness (11/11),” which opens with some whistling wind and moaning vocals but soon flowers into a song that vaguely evokes Traffic. It’s a rocker, with some loud and soft dynamics going on, but when it explodes it explodes like a hand grenade. I cannot say enough about Jackson’s sax work, and Hugh Banton contributes a great Farfisa organ solo as well. This is what I want progressive music to sound like; aggressive and not the slightest beholden to classical tropes, and with a cataclysmic close (in the form of Jackson’s horn freak-out) that never fails to make my day. “Refugees” is excellent although not my cup of tea; sung by Susan Penhaligon, its bucolic tones (produced on the Farfisa) evoke England’s green and pleasant land, while the lyrics serve as an ironic counterpoint, referring to the plight of refugees fleeing said pleasant land. I like the way the song moves to a dramatic climax, to say nothing of Penhaligon’s vocals and Mike Hurwitz’s cello work, and what we have here is a vaguely pretentious tune that somehow manages not to offend my delicate anti-prog sensibilities.

“White Hammer” is about witchcraft and the bloody punishments meted out to those suspected of practicing the dark arts, and while the opening organ is a bit much, all is forgiven when the tune kicks into gear. It’s a decent tune, but I’m going to be straight up with you—this one doesn’t really rock my world until the end, which comes out of nowhere. Banton abruptly lays on the Farfisa like he’s trying to explode eardrums, while Jackson goes into full free jazz blowout. This may be the most exciting couple of minutes in prog rock history, and I can’t get enough of it. “Whatever Would Have Robert Said?” is dedicated to Robert J. Van der Graaf, the generator’s inventor, and features lots of fancy drum work, some snazzy guitar riffs, and a sunny melody, and goes briefly into a super-fast section that doesn’t do much for me. As with “White Hammer” it’s the ending I love most, which once again explodes into one tres dissonant musical catfight. Van der Graaf Generator produced some of the wildest shit this side of The Stooges’ “L.A. Blues,” and any band that can somehow evoke both King Crimson and The Stooges is dandy with me.

“Out of My Book” is a relatively simple little ditty, nice enough but not enough to write home about. It opens on a prettified bucolic note while Hammill annoys me with his vocals, and the organ throws off glints of sunlight as Hammill “runs through sunlit meadows.” And while the melody is nice enough, I can’t say I ever care to hear this one again. Might even run if it came at me out of a dark alley, afraid it might stab me with its sheer friendliness. The LP closes with the epic “After the Flood,” which is more “prog” than anything that comes before insofar as there are frequent changes in tempo and lots of showboating. That said, once it introduces its end-of-the-world note it builds and builds until it’s truly awe-inspiring and I rejoice, although “all is dead and nobody lives.” Then the song turns into Orson Welles swimming a panting lap across a Hollywood swimming pool while World Saxophone Quartet chases him, and this is it, the BLESSED SKRONK, before an acoustic guitar takes over and by God the cycle starts all over. Hammill finally puts some grit into his vocals (actually they’re altered), the organ goes Phantom of the Opera, and then everybody throws in, and what we have here is a great droning dread of the water-logged end, and a vision of the end times as played out by guitar, drums, organ, one that I want to go on forever but doesn’t because it stops with the fearsome droning feedback of Banton’s organ.

I still believe that 99 percent of prog is pure shit, the province of classical music-addled effetes who sneer at their betters in The Troggs, The Stooges, and The Adverts. But I’m happy to have discovered a progressive rock LP that I don’t want to weigh down with stones and sink to the bottom of the Marianas Trench. Van der Graaf Generator never let their avant garde tendencies lead them into the benighted garden of high art schlock, rejecting the Old for the New of free jazz noise, and never succumbing to the horror house music of ELP Frankenstein rock, which was made up of mismatched parts of the corpses of rock and classical. Instead they exploded like a nuclear bomb, and oh what a wondrous din, oh what a wondrous din.

GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+

Van Der Graaf Generator – H To He, Who Am The Only One (1970)

From progarchives.com

Review by Sean Train

With this strangely titled album, VDGG take you one step further into their sombre and lugubrious world. As potter exits throughout the album, Hugh Banton will handle that duty as well as most of the keyboards. However, as remastering job clearly reveals ( much better dynamics gives new life to bass lines) , it is obvious Banton is not as good as Potter was, but this is rather tenuous.

With the concert favourite ( but not mine) Killer to start up side 1 with its rather silly (IMHO) lyrics lamenting shark’s loneliness at sea, one can see/hear the difference the remastering does but this is even more obvious in the next House With No Door that gains a new life especially with the good Banton bass lines. However the track gaining most is The Emperor: this track used to bore me stiff but this is simply not true anymore with Monsieur Fripp making a superb appearance again much bolstered by the re-mastering job.

The second side is a mixed bag as it contains my fave track, but also a very flawed second track. Lost is rather like the pinnacle of the album with the song meandering between the many moods and Hammill’s voice together with Jackson’s sax sends shivers down my spine still some twenty years after. Pioneers Over C has many orgasmic moments but also a few flaws, of which the weak Help Me chorus that is so obvious it becomes weak, the other being the semi Free jazz sax solo that gets simply … lost! (Have they got their track titles mixed-up?) Not as bad as I make it to be , but here although the re-mastering job still does marvels , a good song-rewriting (correcting more an just the two flaws I mentioned) would help even more.

The first bonus track is a real gift, being a live-in-the-studio track holding many improvs that can only give us a hint of what was VDGG in concert at that time. It holds some magic moments and some lengths, but it is an outstanding track. The second bonus track (The Emperor) is less interesting as it can be considered as an alternate take, although there are some notable differences. If it had the Fripp intervention on this version , I might even like it better than the album version.

Again, this album is also available in mini-Lp sleeve and if you are to buy the remastered version, you might want to make the little extra financial effort to acquire the superb Paul Whitehead-signed gatefold sleeve.

Review by Peter

1970 was a watershed year for progressive rock. That year saw the newly-born musical form — in the shape of bands like Genesis, Yes, Jethro Tull, and Gentle Giant — gain strength and conviction, consciously exploring and exploding the “limits” of rock, with a spirit of pure unfettered experimentation. Two pioneering bands who had been key progressive rock players from the genre’s emergence each recorded their third albums late that year: King Crimson’s eclectic LIZARD added overt jazz flavours to the mix, and Van Der Graaf Generator’s oddly-titled H TO HE, WHO AM THE ONLY ONE (the first part of the title refers to the thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen to helium in the sun) further expanded the boundaries of progressive in the form of an oftimes dark, and sometimes disturbing masterpiece.

The two albums have more than a passing resemblance: Like LIZARD, “H TO HE” has strong jazz influences, largely expressed through the dynamic sax of David Jackson. In addition, Crimson’s Robert Fripp puts in a guest appearance on the Van Der Graaf album, adding his trademark electric guitar to “The Emperor in His War Room.” Furthermore, both LIZARD and “H TO HE” are prime examples of “difficult” albums that can be initially challenging, but ultimately very rewarding auditory experiences. I was a latecomer to the music of Van Der Graaf Generator, and I admit that it took several listens before this disc really began to “sink its hooks” into me. Yet I soon found that I was no longer playing the disc out of a sense of duty for reviewing purposes, but as a source of musical pleasure. I use the word “pleasure” guardedly, however, because founder and lead singer Peter Hammill’s introspective lyrics are often illustrative of the axiom that “some of the best art arises from pain.”

On the disquieting, almost menacing opener “Killer,” Hammill sings of a monster fish born “on a black day, in a black month, at the black bottom of the sea” that, though “very lonely,” kills all that draw near, then muses that “I’m really rather like you, for I’ve killed all the love I ever had.” Death, loneliness, and the need for love are recurring themes on this brooding work. “House With no Door,” aided by Hugh Banton’s melancholy piano and Jackson’s flute, offers an effective, sadly beautiful portrait of the artist as a tortured man, imprisoned in the cavern of his skull, whose self-made “walls” have shut out the love that he so desperately needs and craves. The aforementioned “Emperor in His War Room” deals, through gruesome imagery, with the wages of a misspent life: “Begging for your life, as the impartial knife sinks in your screaming flesh…. You must pay the price of hate, and that price is your soul.” The next song, “Lost,” is perhaps the album’s strongest (with the final track, it also contains many of the disc’s more up-tempo, heavier moments), and finds Hammill, with a voice that favourably compares to that of Gabriel in its embittered and impassioned delivery, addressing the spectre of a lost love.

Throughout the disc, Hammill’s singing is very strong. Sometimes he almost whispers, sometime he nearly screams and spits out his lines, while at other moments he affects a falsetto that may well have helped shape the later vocal acrobatics of Gentle Giant. Peter Hammill is certainly no boring or undistinguished vocalist! At several junctures, his singing reminds me of Bowie’s during his MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD era, and the final track, the bizarre, science-fictional “Pioneers Over C” has a theme which is reminiscent of Bowie’s “Space Oddity” — that of a lost and lonely spaceman.

As with LIZARD, I wouldn’t want to listen to this CD too much; hearing Hammill’s searing depictions of inner pain, self-loathing and regret can be cathartic (he’s likely worse off than you!), but also disturbing. Still, H TO HE, WHO AM THE ONLY ONE, is a classic recording that is a must for Van der Graaf fans, and essential listening for all who would discover just how wildly experimental, powerful and moving progressive rock could be in its infancy!

Review by Proghead

It’s amazing how much this band improved in the span of three albums. Just listen to the AEROSOL GREY MACHINE and you’ll find a band more or less sticking in the psychedelic realm, with some folk overtones. The Least We Can Do is Wave to Each Other is the band finally finding their trademark sound, thanks to the inclusion of David Jackson. But you can tell, just by listening to that album that even better things were to come, and that would be their next two albums. Of course, I’m focusing on “H to He Who Am the Only One”. I own the American LP version on ABC/Dunhill which features the same basic artwork, but with different background, and the lyrics included in the gatefold, rather than the back cover.

The album opens up with “Killer”, dominated by David Jackson’s sax. A little known prog band that recorded for RCA/Neon called Raw Material recorded a song called “Ice Queen” for their 1971 album Time Is, which bears more than a passing resemblance to “Killer”. “House with No Door” is a piano-oriented ballad, while “Emperor In His War Room” features some killer spacy organ from Hugh Banton, Robert FRIPP even makes a guest here! The music gets lengthier with “Lost” and one of my all-time favorite VdGG compositions, “Pioneers Over C”, in which the artwork in the gatefold represents this song. The lyrics obviously have strong sci-fi overtones, with a spacy sound. Might not be their most aggressive album, but a must have for all Peter HAMMILL/VdGG fans.

Review by James Lee

Definitely one of the most important links in the psychedelic-progressive chain; a nice transition work somewhere between DONOVAN’s storytelling and “Court of the Crimson King”.

“Killer” starts with easily approachable (for the time, anyway) sounds and hooks- organ and guitar rock, with a bit of sax. The vocal soon lets you know this isn’t your typical freak-out; violent marine imagery wasn’t widely used among the hippie bands. The normal disappears even further after the first chorus, with a lysergic guitar solo over tumbling keyboards. A queasy sax takes over, oscillating wildly, and eventually brings us back to the verse. This time there’s no doubt he’s using metaphor- he pretty much tells us- and then it’s a quick return of the main riff and a big finish.

“House With No Door” is another emotional metaphor song, couched in a laidback piano ballad. I think of pre-70s Bowie (you know, the album with Wakeman…), and unfortunately also of Tim Curry at the end of “Rocky Horror”. Hamill definitely wants to get his point across, and carrying a tune- or fitting the lyrics to the space given- is a secondary consideration. It’s a pleasant song, even if it does get a little redundant by the time they’re done with it.

“The Emperor in His War Room” gets a bit more like CRIMSON with the help of a guest guitarist, and also features some good flute work and harmonies. This is a bit moodier in tone, going from a dark and slow feel for most of the song to a wilder climax, and the lyrics are more abstract and dramatic than the previous songs.

“Lost” tempts us with some jazzy passages and unusual chord changes, but the basic feel of the album remains the same in the vocal sections. It’s romantic desperation here, and somehow feels like the climax to a larger work. Strangely, the guitar work is more characteristic of Fripp than “The Emperor”- even though it’s no longer Fripp playing. The movement from opening to climax is well-paced and more natural than the other epics on the album, but the more progressive sections seem to have little to do with the rest of the song.

“Pioneers over c” starts very like an early space jam by PINK FLOYD (“Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun”) but adds some spiky groovy sections to shake up the flow a bit. Hammill pulls out all his vocal tricks, for better or worse (the harmonies are nicely spooky but the falsetto is a little too Tiny Tim); there are some musical explorations here as well, especially near the close of the piece.

VDGG has certainly earned a place in the hearts of fans of classic prog, despite (or, I suspect, because of) a much smaller recognition factor than the other giants of the first wave. It is a unique sound, mainly due to Hammill’s vocal style, and captures the feel of those first movements on the road to prog as we know it. Personally, after years of attempts to find value in the band I’m still ambivalent at best; I appreciate them for their place in time, but I’m not bowled over by the musical performances or the theatricality, and the emotional content of the album is at best an uninspired, pretentious mawkishness. Many people have found real delight and satisfaction from this album, so I must grumpily defer (the way I do with DREAM THEATER, among others) and objectively rate this one rank higher than I believe the album merits on its own.

Van der Graaf Generator – The Aerosol Grey Machine (1969) [50th Anniversary Edition]

From theprogressiveaspect.net

As luck would have it, just before I was told about the review download of the 50^th anniversary reissue of the first album to bear the name Van der Graaf Generator becoming available, I had commenced on a trip through that band’s stellar discography, something I revisit once in a blood red moon, along with the back catalogues of a very few other bands that have remained essential listening for me over the years. I started this trip with The Least We Can Do…, as I always regarded Aerosol… as something separate from the rest of VdGG’s output. This sumptuous reissue gives me a chance to reappraise its place in the grand scheme of VdGG things.

Wanting to do something special to commemorate half a century passing since his iconic group’s first LP was released, Peter Hammill and Esoteric Recordings have done the album proud with this lovingly compiled box, comprising a double CD with a remastered version of the album, and a second CD with all the extras, a book with an essay by the inimitable Sid Smith, featuring an interview with Peter Hammill, a 1968 poster designed by Hammill, and the real draw, a 180gm LP of the original album housed in the withdrawn gatefold sleeve originally intended for the U.K. market, and a 7” single of People You Were Going To / Firebrand.

For all that, a series of misadventures involving naive contract signatures, and stolen equipment meant that by the time VdGG, by now consisting of Hammill, Hugh Banton (organ), Guy Evans (drums), and Keith Ellis (ex-Koobas, bass), with Jeff Peach on occasional flute, recorded Aerosol, only Hammill remained tied to the no doubt appalling contract that he, Chris Judge Smith, and Nick Peach had signed as Van der Graaf Generator earlier in the Year of our Lord 1968. The band had developed a small following by constantly gigging, but were unwilling to record due to the aforementioned terrible contract tying Hammill to American label Mercury Records. The band’s new manager, Tony Stratton-Smith, negotiated with Mercury that by recording Aerosol as a VdGG album, the legalities were fulfilled and Hammill would be free to fly off to pastures charismatic with his bandmates. Therefore in most respects – only two of the songs on the original LP were compositions by the group that eventually recorded the album – Aerosol was essentially a Hammill solo album. Bizarrely, Mercury then only released the album in their native U.S.A., a place where the band had never played and were completely unknown, so it sold less than diddly squat.

Hammill’s songwriting on Aerosol is surprisingly well-formed, and along with his singing belies his tender age. The majority of the songs focus on the personal in preference to the fantastical, and for this we have to be thankful, as the supremely daft Necromancer doesn’t bear expanding upon. Hammill’s emerging darker thought processes were influenced by a connection with the somewhat troubled Graham Bond, whose occultist interests were well-known. Bond gave Hammill the sage advice “Look, it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you believe in what you’re doing”, a path The Thin Man has followed throughout his 60 or so albums as both band member and wilfully non-commercial solo artist.

As was nearly always the case back in those heady days, the recording and mixing sessions for the album lasted hours, not days or weeks, or longer, and the resulting vitality in these virtual grooves has not diminished with age. A fifth member of the team is producer John Anthony, who quickly became a vital cog in the VdGG sonic machinery.

As far as the extras go, perhaps the most interesting is a version of the crazed and propulsive Octopus from a 1968 BBC Session, and a track that was an early live favourite, and remained in the set for years afterwards. A version was recorded at the end of 1970, originally intended as part of a second LP of older songs previously only played live, to be released with Pawn Hearts as part of an intended double LP package. The song perfectly reflects the manic nature of this iconic band’s early existence, and indeed the volatile and rapidly changing nature of the outside world in the late 1960s.

This sumptuous box is a marker for the birth of the career of one of the most important bands that came to fall under the progressive rock banner. It is a package that in comparison to a fair few monster box sets weighing down the shelves of late middle-aged men all over the first world, maybe somewhat modest, but what it lacks in excessive size it more than makes up for in quality.

TRACK LISTING
CD – Disc One: The Aerosol Grey Machine
01. Afterwards
02. Orthentian Street (Parts 1 & 2)
03. Running Back
04. Into A Game
05. Ferret AndFeatherbird
06. Aerosol Grey Machine
07. Black Smoke Yen
08. Aquarian
09. Giant Squid
10. Octopus
11. Necromancer

CD – Disc Two: Extras
01. Sunshine (1967 Demo) (Previously Unreleased)
02. Firebrand (1967 Demo) (Previously Unreleased)
03. People You Were Going To (BBC Session – November 1968)
04. Afterwards (BBC Session – November 1968)
05. Necromancer (BBC Session – November 1968)
06. Octopus (BBC Session – November 1968) (Previously Unreleased)
07. People You Were Going To (Single Version)
08. Firebrand (Single Version)

LP – Disc Three: The Aerosol Grey Machine – 180 Gram Gatefold LP (in unissued U.K. Sleeve)
Side One
01. Afterwards
02. Orthenthian Street
03. Running Back
04. Into A Game
Side Two
01. Aerosol Grey Machine
02. Black Smoke Yen
03. Aquarian
04. Necromancer
05. Octopus

Disc Four – 7-Inch Single
Side A – People You Were Going To
Side B – Firebrand

MUSICIANS
Peter Hammill – Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Hugh Banton – Organ, Piano, Percussion, Backing Vocals
Keith Ellis – Bass
Guy Evans – Drums, Percussion
~ with:
Jeff Peach – Flute (Running Back)
Chris Judge Smith – Slide-Saxophone, Backing Vocal (People You Were Going To & Firebrand)

Van Der Graaf Generator Present (2005)

From seaoftranquility.org

Popular mythology has been kinder to Van der Graaf Generator than most of their better known, financially more successful, brethren. Perhaps the fact that Hammill’s lyrics and delivery exhibited raw psychosis and the quartet delivered everything with bare-knuckles intensity — punk aggro before there was such a thing — allowed the band to depart the scene and not be an easy target for sneering music-journalists in the 80s and 90s. Almost 30 years down the road since the last official Generator album, Peter Hammill and company — the classic four-piece lineup — return with what is probably the most anticipated new prog-rock album in at least a decade, maybe longer.

The line-up of Banton, Evans, Hammill and Jackson made its last appearance on World Record in 1976. After that a mutated version of the group built around Hammill, Evans and a returning Nik Potter on bass recorded briefly as Van der Graaf. The new album, Present, fits nicely in between World Record and Quiet Zone/The Pleasure Dome. Not as complex nor as overtly bonkers as the former, and not as close to a Hammill solo album in disguise as the latter, this live-in-the-studio set of tunes easily recaptures the armed to the teeth spirit of yesterday, while glaring through suspicious eyes at a horizon of dark social malevolence, political malfeasance, and moral ambiguity. In other words, it’s business as usual for the home team.

Opening the package for Present is a delight in itself. The front-cover is a black and white silhouette of the band members heads in profile with lettering and color scheme to echo the classic mid 70s album Godbluff. All of them facing to the left hints at the inside cover of Pawn Hearts. Inside the 2-disc set we find that the credits and the disc label show the resurrection of The Famous Charisma Label just for this project. Nice to see the Mad Hatter symbol again. As it should be. Too bad it isn’t bigger, however.

Online discussion before the album’s release gave away the fact that disc 1 would be the songs, and disc 2 would be a bonus set of improvisations from the album sessions — sort of a full-band “Long Hello”. So what do we have?

First, it’s important to understand how the album was created. A one-week bashing session at Pyworthy Rectory was recorded by the group, this being the result. It is very much a band flying by the seat of its pants affair, acting as its own engineer and producer. It’s not a great recording — don’t expect a sonic masterpiece a la John Anthony — with the mix having a slightly muffled quality, especially Evans’ drums. It’s more like an extremely good set of high-grade demos, where the arrangements and parts have been fully realized, but the overall sound quality isn’t top drawer.

Second, these tunes evolved quickly, though some of them might have been brought in by Hammill with a degree of structure in place. They’re more song-oriented than vintage generator, shorter and not as prone to time-sig shifts, very quiet/very loud jumps, etc. If one is expecting hyper-prog-rock, one will likely be disappointed.

Third, purists may sniff at the modern digital keyboards in use. On the whole, as a results oriented man, I find Banton’s pair of Roland’s in burning Hammond and churchy modes to be highly effective organ emulations. But Hammill’s DX-7 electric piano and clavinet tones are too pretty and clean. Someone get this man a Hohner, a Wurli, or at least a bad-tempered fuzz-box to push the signal through!

The album opener “Every Bloody Emperor” sets the tone immediately with the band easing into a spot-on Hammill observation about the nature of power and how it corrupts. Timely, without getting so specific that Hammill names Bush and Blair, but its obvious which lying swinish rulers are in his mind as he mournfully intones a litany of deceit, lamenting the destruction of the democratic ideal, and the rise of militaristic jingoistic empire. This is a steady builder, elements adding to the arrangement in much the same way as “The Undercover Man” did opening Godbluff. Right off the bat, as Hammill sets his lyrical gun-sights on big game, it’s encouraging to see that each member of the team is more than up to the task of playing his role in the reunion.

Surprisingly, up next is a Jackson-written instrumental (“Boleas Panic”). Crafted around gritty, soulful, sax work and almost Church-like organ, this 6/4 piece, works well continuing the dark mood of the opener. Banton’s face surely shone with glee as he cranked the intensity level midway. As good as it is, one can but only wish Hammill had penned some words, given the shortness of disc 1 (37 minutes) and the length of the second (instrumental improv) disc. On further thought, it really is the only place for it, as far away from the rest of the instrumentals as possible, without opening the album.

Track three is the one that grabbed me immediately, positively screaming that it’s an instant VdGG classic. Is the protagonist of “Nutter Alert” an acquaintance of Hammill? A blathering fan, relative of an earlier energy vampire? Or is the man singing about himself, seeing something baleful in the mirror that he doesn’t like? Either way, as the band swings through the quasi-blues slow rock arrangement, and Hammill snarls his disdain, long-time fans will feel right at home. Banton even manages to drive his Roland virtual Hammond into the kind of dirty-Leslie terrain beloved by heavy organ aficionados.

More 400lb gorilla mayhem follows in “Abandon Ship!”, with Meurglys III cranked up, and Hammill wryly commenting on the desperate need for the aging hip to cling to youthful modes of living, expression, dress, etc. Some of it is, of course, self-depreciating in its knowledge that Hammill and company are fighting their own rearguard action against the relentless encroachment of age, memory-loss and infirmity. If it hasn’t dawned on the listener before now that these guys are having fun, by the end of this tune it should be apparent that the generator still take music seriously…but not themselves.

“In Babelsberg”, the second heavy guitar-led workout, is probably the closest track to vintage prog-rock VdGG output. One has to accept Hammill’s playing style and tone, which can be off-putting. It’s very garage-prog, and hasn’t evolved much over the last three decades. But it serves the shut-up or I’ll smack you aggression of the piece. This muscular tune could easily have found a home on one of the mid-70s VdGG albums, fueled by wailing vocals, and more blistering, squonking sax and organ. But it’s not a nostalgic piece at all, despite its discussion of events in “another Berlin”, being musically as harsh and fierce in delivery as most modern metal bands, just smarter and more cerebral in subject matter.

The last of the songs is perhaps the closest on the disc to a throwaway, being more of Hammill solo tune dressed up in a band arrangement. “On The Beach” is delicate VdGG balladry for cartoons, if you will, with humorous reference to the Silver Surfer, and perhaps a gentle nod to the poignancy of Nevil Shute’s epic Cold War apocalypse novel. Perfect placement as a comedown after the lurching violence of “In Babelsberg”, letting the rocket ship’s engines cool down as the band fades into the tranquil sounds of crashing surf.

I guess that disc 2, the improvisations, will not get anywhere near as much play as the songs on disc 1. It would be fair to say that not many bands have ever managed to successfully do rock-based improv. Really only King Crimson’s mid 70s lineup springs to mind. But what’s presented here shows that VdGG are quite good at it. Surprisingly so, given the fact that they haven’t played together (other than once in a blue moon pickups) in close to 30 years. Most importantly, the improvs show that a wealth of untapped ideas were developed in these sessions that didn’t show up in the six songs on disc 1. At one level it’s self-indulgent jamming, but on another it provides insight into the creative process that spawned the completed songs. To do this effectively requires not only technical ability but enormous trust in the collective mind. Otherwise the results are in danger of leading to Spinal Tap Mk II’s “Jazz Odyssey”. Fortunately the quartet knows enough about improvisation to let the two jazzers in the outfit lead the way, which Evans and Jackson do with great aplomb. It’s all good in its own way (with the rubbish buried safely in a locked vault one hopes). Outstanding improvs? For me they were “Vulcan Meld”, “Slo Moves”, “Crux”, “‘Eavy Mate” and “The Price Of Admission”. But the best bit of all was the scorching middle four minutes of “Architectural Hair” which fairly peels the paint.

When all is said and done, Present is a better than hoped for album, though not on par with the best work under the moniker Van der Graaf Generator. It shows a deft acknowledgment of their collective past while offering hope for a possible continued collective future. It is amazing that these guys are pushing sixty, but they’re still very much fueled by fire! I’m astonished at how un-mellow these men are, refusing to go quietly into that dark night, instead opting to rant, rave and rock like they’re still 25. Amen to that! If you love Hammill and Van der Graaf Generator, and aren’t expecting Pawn Hearts part deux you should get a lot of mileage out of this album. I did.

Van Der Graaf Generator Do Not Disturb (2016)

From thequietus.com

Since reforming in 2005, Van der Graaf Generator have kept up a steady stream of new releases, cementing their status as the last survivors of the golden age of progressive rock. (Although King Crimson remain active on the touring front, Robert Fripp has so far shown no desire to take the current incarnation of KC into the studio.) Do Not Disturb is the fifth album from the reunited VdGG, and the fourth since the acrimonious departure of sax and flute player David Jackson left the group as a trio.

In interviews to promote the record, the group’s singer, guitarist and principal songwriter Peter Hammill has commented on the fact that he, organist Hugh Banton and drummer Guy Evans are all approaching their 70th birthdays. Although Hammill has stopped short of stating outright that this will be the last VdGG album, he has at least acknowledged the possibility. What’s more, it’s clear that awareness of this possibility has informed the writing on Do Not Disturb, which has an air of finality about it that is striking even in the context of Hammill’s lifelong lyrical preoccupations with age, maturity and the passing of time. Back in 2005, one of Hammill’s stated reasons for reforming VdGG (after years of saying he would never do so) was that the group only ever saw each other at the funerals of ex-road crew members, and therefore that if they were ever to reform, now was the time to do it. It’s appropriate, then, that this new album comes freighted with a sense of lines being drawn under a life’s work.

VdGG’s last album of new songs, 2011’s A Grounding In Numbers, was a scrappy affair, consisting largely of short songs that didn’t fully allow the trio to unleash the manic instrumental flights for which they are renowned. It’s something of a relief, therefore, to find that they have given themselves more room to stretch out this time, with six of the album’s nine tracks clocking in at around the seven to eight minute mark. What’s new, and startlingly so, is the way these songs pack a vast amount of drama and incident into those seven or eight minutes. Opener “Aloft” begins with leisurely guitar from Hammill and restrained cymbal work from Evans, before Hammill’s exquisite voice enters, burning with loss and regret. But there’s no time to dwell on the lyric’s sombre reflection on missed opportunities, as Banton’s miraculous organ tears the song wide open. Hammill and Evans respond with angry riffing and thunderous percussion, only for Banton to re-emerge with more stabbing organ. Cleaving urgently to the organist’s powerhouse lines, Hammill declaims furious words of condemnation: “Are you joking? Were you hoping for some jolly japes? Eat those words or spit them out before they choke you.”

As the album progresses, traces of the group’s history emerge in fleeting, cinematic flashbacks. “Alfa Berlina” recalls their early success in Italy, where their 1971 album Pawn Hearts reached number 1 in the album charts; touring heavily to capitalise on its success, their promoter drove them from gig to gig in the eponymous saloon car. “Room 1210” ruefully evokes the rigours of touring, when a hotel room was the only place where a moment’s privacy could be snatched; and there’s even an element of score-settling in “Forever Falling”. Musically, the song represents a throwback to Hammill’s underrated K Group period of the early 1980s, with a nagging riff that could have come straight from solo albums like Enter K or Patience. Lyrically, though, it almost certainly takes caustic aim at the departed Jackson, whose apparent unreliability and lack of commitment to the cause were key factors in his 2006 dismissal from the group.

To a greater extent here than on previous trio outings, VdGG make efforts to compensate for the absence of Jackson with a more varied instrumental palette. These songs are like compressed multi-part epics, lurching deliriously from moments of piano-led tranquillity to ragged guitar-and-drums freakouts. Banton augments his organ work with deep, resonant bass and tender washes of accordion, there’s a (tad overlong, to tell the truth) jazzy break in the middle of the exuberant rocker “(Oh No I Must Have Said) Yes”, while the frenetic instrumental coda to “Almost the Words” is as wild and driven as anything you’ll hear all year. Only on the plaintive closing track “Go” does the mood finally darken, with Hammill’s tone of weary resignation looming over Banton’s desolate organ: “more or less, all for the best, in the end it’s all behind you.”

Inevitably there’s nothing here to rival the dark majesty of Van der Graaf Generator’s classic 1970s work, and newcomers should start with Still Life, Godbluff or Pawn Hearts. But Do Not Disturb is a worthy addition to the group’s canon and – if this is indeed their last album – a fitting end to an illustrious career.

Van Der Graaf Generator The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other (1970)

From amazon.co.uk

Review If you exclude “The Aerosol Grey Machine”, which was really a Peter Hammill solo album released under the VDGG name for contractual reasons, then “The Least We Can Do….” was the band’s first album release.

I would say that it’s one of my favourite VDGG albums because it is one of the most accessible ones; there is discernable melody here and plenty of it too. That is always important to me, more so than lyrics (but there may be many VDGG/Peter Hammill fans who fixate on his lyric writing as one of their favourite aspects) and this is one of VDGG’d most melodious albums. Tracks (not sure I can call them songs) such as the opener “Darkness (11/11)”, “Refugees” and “After the Flood” are good examples, with the music on “Refugees” being quite beautiful at times.

The songs are complex, long and not in a usual rock format or beat at all but another feature of this album that I find enjoyable is the wonderful rhythm that Nic Potter (bass) and Guy Evans (drums) can set up – quite jazzy in a modernistic sort of way (not in an Ella Fitzgerald way at all!). Hugh Banton on keyboards and David Jackson on saxes and flute add wonderful aural textures and energy, as well as melody. These four create a wonderful musical soundscape for Peter Hammill to deliver his “sung” lyrics – well, if you’ve ever heard peter Hammill “sing” then you will understand that his is a delivery that will not suit everyone. It suits this music and I like it.

I used to have the version of the CD released before the millenium and the sound on that was pretty poor but I’m pleased to say that it is of excellent qaulity on this remastered CD – so well worth getting again for any of you fans with the old copy.

So – melody, drive, invention, energy, wonderful musical soundscapes and a vocalist that demands your attention – this is one of the great VDGG albums from a career that has delivered a strong set of albums – including the recent “Present”, released after an interval of some 25 years from what many thought would be their last, “The Quiet Zone/The Pleasure Dome”. And there is another studio album in the offing for 2008!! Great – can’t wait!

Review Charisma Records was the love-child of the late sports writer, racehorse owner and all-round bon viveur, Tony Stratton-Smith and this band. Once introduced, he took on their management, resolved previous and unhappy contractual issues – and when they couldn’t get a label deal, started his own.
Whilst he nurtured the careers of an eclectic and talented roster of acts (many of whom went a long way to pay for the lifestyle – step forward Genesis), Van Der Graaf Generator were always ‘the ones’ for Strat.

Progressive rock was the new kid on the block, but whilst there was no shortage of labels and acts loaded onto its bandwagon, few were actually ‘progressing’ for long. VdGG were amongst few that were truly progressive in that they innovated, and by so doing, paved the way.

This is the first release in an exhumation of the VdGG catalogue. EMI has formed an ace team for the reissue programme of the Harvest and Charisma catalogues and this album bears their hallmark.

Issued to critical acclaim in 1970, The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other – 35 years later – delivers the goods again in an informative and entertaining package, re-mastered with extra tracks, and original artwork enhanced with intelligent and informed booklet notes, previously unpublished publicity photography and period memorabilia.

One incarnation of the band had supported main man Peter Hammill on his debut solo Aerosol Grey Machine in 1969 (later credited to VdGG).

But it was the line-up of song-writer Peter Hammill (guitar/vocals), drummer Guy Evans, classically-trained church organist, Hugh Banton, jazz-fusion horn player David Jackson, and bassist Nic Potter that formed the nucleus of this creative, wayward act.

In his original sleeve notes, Hammill warned: “Don’t listen when you’re bustling, because it won’t get inside your head. Don’t listen when you’re angry because you’ll smash something. Don’t listen when you’re depressed, because you’ll get more so. Don’t listen with any preoccupations, because you’ll blow it. ”

Melancholy, melody and mayhem co-function successfully in this imaginative and assured set.

Strikingly original then and a dramatic turn still today, it intersperses observational songs (Refugees, Out Of My Book) with epic statement (After the Flood, Darkness (11/11)) in a organ and sax-fuelled melee, powered by the hyperactive Evans, and preceded by the free-ranging Hammill vocal: British, educated, reasonable until prompted by some unseen force to unreason bordering on hysterical.

This release is bolstered with two extra tracks in the beautiful, orchestrated single version of ‘Refugees’ and its B-side, the atmospheric ‘Boat of Millions Of Years’.

The former is sweet, melancholic, lavish, naive – and a counterpoint to moments elsewhere in the proceedings that signpost the next horizon to be swept across by this band’s restless, raging force.

At the time of writing, VdGG have reformed, recorded a new album and are playing sell-out dates at major venues. Begin at the beginning, and find out how this came to be …