Gentle Giant

When people talk about progressive rock, fans instantly conjure up a cornucopia of names, images and titles that made its history: figures who became icons through their theatrics and their ability to forge a genuine musical mythology between the late 60s and the mid-70s. An era dominated by grandiose epics told and played with sheer bombast, a contest of virtuosity between Yes, Genesis and Emerson Lake & Palmer, whose suites each time aimed at a summa of their unbridled creativity. Then, over the years, amid splits and more or less amicable departures, the dream faded — or at least shrank considerably — giving way to more contemporary approaches, often aimed at seducing a less erudite audience as well.

Though relatively marginal compared to the aforementioned tutelary deities of prog, Gentle Giant are among the very few English outfits who stayed true to their calling right to the end, and always at more than respectable levels. Perhaps that's also why they've remained mostly the preserve of a more "nerdy" fringe of enthusiasts, who saw in them the paradigm of a taste for baroque arrangement and the most singular rhythmic twists.

In a realm dominated by concept-albums and sprawling instrumentals, ever since their self-titled debut these English bards have doggedly pursued an unpredictable song-form, one that many consider to reach its peak on "Octopus" (1972), a multifaceted, inexhaustible work despite its short overall running time.

Iconic in their own way, Gentle Giant were a band of rather unlovely long-hairs (with the exception of drummer John Weathers, also unlovely but nearly bald), three of whom were the talented Shulman brothers. Perhaps this family bond is part of the secret behind such an unmatched rapport: every member shifted effortlessly between multiple instruments, as the live footage now easily found on YouTube demonstrates – pure gold, all of it. What united them was a spirit straight out of the old wandering minstrels, a genuine fascination with the more "humble" side of musical composition – one that nonetheless didn't preclude near-overflowing displays of talent. The quintessential "Raconteur, Troubadour" is a dance for gypsy violins and syncopated electric piano that perfectly captures the modest elegance with which Gentle Giant chose to present themselves to their audience.

Gather round the village square

Come good people both wretched and fair

See the troubadour play on the drum

Hear my songs on the lute that I strum

Their musical inventions drew on a whole different imaginative world, populated by myths from fiction and science alike, from the novel cycle of François Rabelais – who also inspired the band's name and the opening track of the LP "Acquiring The Taste", as he did this one – to great thinkers like Ronald Laing, the Scottish psychiatrist whose ideas echo through the vocal interplay of "Knots", a gem among the gems that make up "Octopus". Feats like this always teeter between the winking irony of showmen and the seriousness of impeccable professionals: moog, strings, horns and vibraphones weave a call-and-response of the most unexpected solutions, answering each other like a deliciously precise Swiss-clockwork gag.

I get what I deserve

I deserve what I get

I have it so I deserve it

I deserve it for I have it

The opening "The Advent Of Panurge" was already a bottomless well of interlocking parts, callbacks and embellishments with absolutely no equal for its time. But don't be fooled into calling them mere virtuosos, or artists of the coup de théatre: the "giants" don't hesitate to turn the even sharper words of a nihilistic Albert Camus into a cutting riff:

Run, why should I run away

When at the end the only truth certain

– One day everyone dies –

If only to justify life

Even though the episodes on "Octopus" overflow with imagination, they always seem to keep their feet on the ground in recounting the aspirations and miseries of the frail human condition. These choices seem all the more curious when you consider that, in those years, the trend in prog – including its Italian strand – was to imagine other worlds, to flee as far as possible from reality by taking refuge in apocryphal mythologies. Gentle Giant, on the other hand, even find room for a melancholy ode to man's best friend, whose humble tones and prominent violin still recall a wandering vignette, before giving way to the most sincere, overflowing emotion in the romantic fanfare of "Think Of Me With Kindness".

The traveling circus has almost wrapped up its performance, but not before one more astonishing act: the crooked, elusive riff of "River" – like the whirling instrumental "The Boys In The Band" – is another pure shot of prog inventiveness, further proof of the singular talent of these unlikely multi-instrumentalists.

So, while all across Europe bands tried to emulate the glittering splendor of symphonic prog, Gentle Giant proudly forged a path all their own. Their stubbornness – and the beauty of eleven studio albums with zero stylistic compromise – may not have paid off as much as it should have, but for many they have long since become legendary. And if you still don't know this gem, brace yourself to be amazed: a show like no other is about to begin.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

11/05/2014