Cor Cordium - Glass Hammer

Cor Cordium (Glass Hammer, 2011)

1. Nothing Box - 10:53
2. One Heart - 6:20
3. Salvation Station - 5:08
4. Dear Daddy - 10:30
5. To Someone - 18:15
6. She, A Lonely Tower - 10:57

Glass Hammer's If was so outstanding, I swooped down on this latest release with eager anticipation. However, the copycat artwork should have been a red flag - maybe my expectations were too high, maybe they released another album too soon, maybe they let a certain new band member have too much of a creative outlet... The bottom line is, despite the presence of some amazing songs, most of the material on this album fails to coalesce into something special.

It starts out promisingly enough. "Nothing Box" delivers a thoughtful lyric on the isolation we create for ourselves through entertainment technology, and it marries the philosophy to some knotty, complex, stirring music: beautiful harmonies, jagged guitar lines, aggressive bass, and good compositional shape. The following "One Heart" continues the excellence, a song about the death of a loved one that highlights hope and rebirth. But then things go downhill.

"Salvation Station" is some sort of slip-shod anti-televangelist song, yet it mixes its message with general anti-TV sentiment, all over an embarrassing bluesy happy-time shuffle.  Thankfully, the middle instrumental section has a little fire to it, otherwise it would be a complete throwaway. Then we hit "Dear Daddy." The lyrics are riddled with cliche: Daddy doesn't approve of me because I'm a musician, Daddy is distant and rough, Daddy didn't tell me he loved me, Daddy was too worried about "the rat race" to notice me.  I hate to disparage what was probably a very personal song, but its expression is very impersonal. Not to mention the lyrics being sung from the perspective of one person, yet the singer is overdubbed all over himself with lyric lines bouncing off each other in a multiple-personality-disorder mess.  Then we get more cheesy acoustic guitar shuffle and fluff. Where is the rest of the band?  Well, they finally show up, and the song starts to pick up some musical steam, but then it throws us not one, not two, but three fake endings, each time going back into cheesy solo acoustic guitar mode.  Seriously, where was quality control here?

I hoped the following "To Someone" would redeem the missteps of its predecessor, but it just keeps on skipping merrily down the same path: goofy acoustic guitar shuffle, sloppy lyrics about school bullies and "the system", no memorable vocals or melodies, compositional seams showing... None of the pieces really fit together, even if some of those pieces are pretty decent.  It's one of the most disappointing prog rock "epics" I've ever experienced.  And what's the big message at the end?  "Mystery of life / Finally I found / 'Tis all for Love / It's Love alone the world's seeking".  Nice job, genius!  Figure that one out yourself, did you?  That is a totally original thought!  I don't think it's ever been expressed before, certainly not in a rock context! (Also, is that shout-out to Mel Brooks's Young Frankenstein intentional? If so, then maybe I've completely misjudged the song... I don't think it is, though.)

It's enough to sour the taste of the concluding "She, A Lonely Tower", which is actually a very good song, similar to "Nothing Box" in creative complexity and adventurous melodicism.  The three good songs here would make a mind-blowing EP. However, the dead weight drags the album down.

Arbitrary rating: 2.5 out of 5 bluesy happy-time shuffles

H to He Who Am the Only One - Van Der Graaf Generator

H to He Who Am the Only One (Van der Graaf Generator, 1971)

1. Killer - 8:24
2. House With No Door - 6:37
3. The Emperor in His War Room  - 8:15
    A. The Emperor
    B. The Room
4. Lost  - 11:17
    A. The Dance in Sand and Sea
    B. The Dance in the Frost
5. Pioneers over C - 12:42

Van der Graaf Generator strike the perfect balance between inspiration and insanity on their third album, H to He Who Am the Only One. The album title references the fusion of hydrogen into helium, and the band's own fusion of styles is truly unique: traditional and avant-garde jazz, Baroque/Romantic classicism, straightforward rock, and aggressively experimental electronics combine to create a sound that turns on a dime from stately to psychotic.

The band's sound is grounded in the animalistic percussion of Guy Evans, the heaven and hell church organ/synthesizer of Hugh Banton, and the heavy jazz leanings of David Jackson's saxophone and flute. Of course, tying all the raw talent together into operatic songs about man's existential crisis is Peter Hammill, primary composer, lyricist, lead singer, and occasional rhythm guitarist. Bassist Nic Potter plays on only three tracks here: "Killer", "The Emperor in His War Room", and "Lost". He contributes some good work, but he doesn't seem to have the same skewed genius as the others...

Perhaps the quintessential VDGG song, "Killer" is a song to a predatory fish who lurks on the bottom of the ocean, with whose loneliness the singer identifies. It boasts such juicily gothic lines as:

On a black day in a black month
At the black bottom of the sea
Your mother gave birth to you
And died immediately.

It also boasts one of the most viciously atonal saxophone solos in any rock song, ever.  David Jackson proves his mettle here, even though he would be the first to deny any comparisons to jazz greats. And of course, when he's not tearing it up on one sax, he's exercising his trademark double-sax attack... no, kids, it's not just a studio trick.

Though "Killer" gets a lot of attention, every song on the album is as good or better.  "House With No Door" is a stately, restrained flute and piano ballad backing Hammill's reflections on the human condition through a fairly effective architectural metaphor. "The Emperor" juxtaposes haunting melodies against the last violent moments of a tyrant, with Robert Fripp providing sinewy lead guitar in his typical power-sustain clean tone. "Lost" starts with a jaunty 6/8 swing and traditional jazz sax, but as it describes the end of a relationship, it transitions to a truly frightening 7/8 vs 5/8 theme with brutal synthesizer from Banton.

"Pioneers over C" might be the best song here - a sci-fi extravanganza about the ill-fated voyagers to another galaxy. By turns bracing, thrilling, menacing, mysterious, jubilant, and mournful, this epic explores the dark corners of the cosmos and the soul, providing a cautionary tale of humanity's overzealous pursuit of the unknown.  The band deliver an intense performance, adroitly balancing the ever-shifting dynamics and tempos, while hanging over it all is Hammill's desperate cry of a mind fraying in the vacuum of space.

This band has to be heard to be believed, and H to He showcases them at the height of their powers.  Amazingly, they would reach greater altitudes with their next album...

Arbitrary rating - 5 out of 5 black bottoms of the sea