A Voice From The Past

I got lucky yesterday, picking up a bargain price DVD at Sembawang Records at Parkway. For a mere 17 bucks I got my hand on Procol Harum - Live At The Union Chapel, which also boasts a rather nifty CD of edited material from the DVD itself. I'd actually spotted it on their shelves a couple of weeks back, but hadn't bought it then as it cost over 40 dollars at that point in time (the mysteries of capitalism!) and I've got several unwatched DVDs on the shelves from our time in the UK and still three cheapo cheapo ones from the Medan trip. It's nice to own things, but only if you do them some sort of justice. But in the couple of weeks following my sighting of the Union Chapel DVD I found myself thinking that perhaps I'd made a mistake. Procol are one of my favourite bands and I'd seen very positive reviews of the live DVD which had even made me consider ordering from amazon or somewhere, and here it was (against the odds!) in a shop within walking distance. So given how much I finally paid for it, having decided I was going to buy it if it was still there, I think I can say things worked out for the best.

That was confirmed this morning when the sweet sounds of Mr Brooker and colleagues accompanied my marking; well, in between scripts anyway. I've actually seen the band live three times, but that was in the early seventies, and it's safe to say they have improved with age. In fact, now I think of it, they were one of the first bands I ever saw, quite soon after Pink Floyd's Atom Heart Mother concert (my first!!) at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester. They'd just released Broken Barricades, one of the first albums I owned, and I remember being quite surprised at just how much of Robin Trower's guitar work featured in concert. He soon left to form a rather dull Hendrix-type power trio. I was sort of impressed with Procol but didn't know enough of the back catalogue to get into all the material. The second time I saw them Trower had gone, and I didn’t miss him. I remember being entranced by B.J. Wilson's drumming (one of the greats, may he rest in peace) and generally realising how badly I'd listened to them the first time. The third time was really odd. They were on a double bill with Steeleye Span as support. This was just as Steeleye were beginning to break big, coming out of the folk rock ghetto, as it were, and Steeleye blew them off the stage. Or at least it seemed like that at the time. I was heavily into Steeleye and the musical press were saying that Procol were tired, and I've got a terrible feeling that I listened to them (the press, not Procol.) But, perhaps it was genuinely a bad night.

I think it must have been after that that I acquired (as a bargain-price lp on the Chrysalis label, confirming, for perceptive readers, that my cheapskatedness runs deep) Procol Harum Live In Concert with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. This album became something of a touchstone for me, proof that bands who played concerts with big orchestras were not necessarily being pretentious gits. Basically it's simply a perfect album. Brilliant songs, played brilliantly with note-perfect arrangements. And these were from Gary Brooker himself. Every time I listen to A Salty Dog from this album I find myself thinking the somewhat ridiculous thought that this is greatest song ever written by anybody, anywhere. Silly, but it always pops up. Much as I was sympathetic to the punk ethos of getting back to basics, there was always the idea of what Procol had captured on that magical night to remind me that there might be other ways of doing things.

And that voice. Of all the great white blues/soul voices (and I'm bearing in mind Van the Man here) no one can touch Brooker's for that curious fragility at the centre of all the power. I always get the sense that he's not that far from losing the pitch but he never does, even on the toughest melodies, and he's written more than a few major challenges for himself. The fact that he makes even the most abstruse of Keith Reid's lyrics expressive, speaks volumes for the intelligence of that voice.

So Live At The Union Chapel threatens to be on heavy rotation for quite some time, thus justifying an almost perfect purchase. By the way, this version of the band is stellar, to say the least. Ace organist Matthew Fisher is back on board (I never saw in any of the versions of the band when I caught them live) so I suppose his battle with Brooker over the composition rights for A Whiter Shade of Pale has been settled. They play out with an extended version on the DVD and it's interesting they're playing the song again. In the days I watched them it was never on the set list. I suppose they've come to terms with the fact that they've been unfairly identified with a miniscule part of a fantastic catalogue of songs. Personally I always preferred Homburg, A Salty Dog and Conquistador amongst the singles. A guy called Geoff Whitehorn plays guitar and makes the likes of Robin Trower sound stiff, whilst Mark Brzezicki and Mattt Pegg make a top-notch, and relatively young, rhythm section. I'm guessing that Matt is the son of the legendary Fairport and lately Tull bassist Dave Pegg, and he sounds as good as his dad, which is really saying something.

The problem now is that I'm developing a yearning to get hold of all the Procol albums from Broken Barricades onwards, none of which I own on CD. So this bargain buy might turn out to be rather expensive in the long run.