Indeed, even the "lesser" tracks only seem that way because they're sillier than others - even then, though, they provide a nice sense of diversity to the album, one that helps diffuse the general "monotony" of the band's sound. She Wandered Through the Garden Fence could seem out of place thanks to the moodier (and more serious) pieces that bookend it, but it has one of the best "silly" melodies ever penned by somebody not named Paul McCartney, and even Brooker's voice helps here, only because it's humorous to hear him sing the lines "she threw me down upon my back and strapped me to a torture rack" with a seemingly straight face. Mabel could also be dismissed as a relative throwaway, but it's so over-the-top drunkenly goofy, with all sorts of random slide whistles and drunken revelry taking place in the background while Brooker sings for Mabel to "please get off the kitchen table" that it's simply irresistable (in the context of the album, anyway).

"Lesser" track number three is an attempt at a vaguely "psychadelic" rocker (with standard PH instrumentation, of course), Kaleidoscope. It's essentially a groove piece, based around a few measures of somewhat less-than-stellar melody line led by the keyboards, so it doesn't quite measure up to everything else... on the other hand, though, it has a cool instrumental break in the middle, first led by a really energetic keyboard solo and then a nice, brief, slightly frantic Trower guitar solo, so I'm not gonna dismiss it completely. And finally, the penultimate track of the original album, Good Captain Clack, probably could have stayed in the outtakes box without hurting the album, were it not for the goofy group harmonies in the middle without which I can't imagine this album.

So that's it for the lesser stuff, and seeing as that's all good, that should give you an idea about the rest. Conquistador is simply brilliant, with a terrific juxtaposition of Robin's riffage with Brooker's amazing vocal melody (especially in the "chorus"), all with a MASSIVE keyboard part before the ending verse. (Incidentally, I'd like to say that my weirdest music experience back when I had my part-time job working for Meijer was when, over the loudspeaker, I could a hear a muzak version of this very tune. The funny thing is, everything was mellowed and cheesed over ... except for the keyboard solo which was done exactly like on this album).

Later, Something Following Me is an eerily mellow ballad (apparently about seeing your own tombstone, among other things, not that I noticed before reading the lyrics online), with yet another excellent piano melody, and another great (though unfortunately short) Trower solo, making this moody as hell. And finally, there's the side-one closer, the INCREDIBLE Cerdes (Outside the Gates of), with one of the cleverest riffs Brooker ever came up with (with the bass seamlessly sharing its duty with Fisher's organ) and another amazing vocal melody and more great Trower work ... all this on only one side!!! Throwaway filler, I DON'T THINK SO.

Side two is a little weaker (three of the "lesser" tracks are here), but it's also bookended by two more *insert positive adjective here* tracks that leave no doubt in my mind of this album's greatness. A Christmas Camel is an exceptionally well-done Ray Charles ripoff - great vocal melody, great keyboard interplay, great Trower solo, etc etc etc. The instrumental Repent Walpurgis, though, basically annihilates it in quality - the lone Fisher composition on the album, it functioned as the band's stage closer for many years, and it's not hard to see why. Aside from having one of the best melodies of any classical/rock fusion ever, it gives every member a chance to shine (without delving into self-indulgence) - Trower in turn stands out, giving out his best solo of the album, but there's also a brief interlude where Brooker's piano is given a moment by itself, and the rest has the band working as an absolute musical monster, before ending with one of the most (justifiably so) bombastic, crashing finales ever to grace a rock album.

In short, this album ranges from good to absolutely stunning, and I can't see how any self-respecting art-rock lover could dislike this. I almost considered giving it a 14/15, but ehn, there is a slightly high percentage of "lesser" tracks to make it to that (quite exclusive) plateau. Still, this is a VERY high 13, and if you rate it higher, I won't argue. And besides, the recent re-release has some cool bonus tracks - Lime Street Blues is a generic (but good) mid-60's r&b piece, and Monsieur Armand is a lesser track (that would be reworked for the '74 album Exotic Birds and Fruit), but Homburg is a quite lovely piece in the same vein as Whiter Shade, while Seem to Have the Blues All the Time is a quite interesting "heavy" blues piece that sounds like little else on the album but that is quite good nonetheless. How's THAT for a run-on sentence??

PS: I didn't mention Salad Days (Are Here Again)!! Now that's quite a lovely melody there.

As for the suite, well, I've heard better. I won't begin to deny its importance or influence - it is of course the forefather of Supper's Ready, and Close to the Edge, and Gates of Delirium, and Thick as a Brick, and all sorts of other great epic tracks that I have enjoyed many a time in my life. It also has some great passages all its own - 'Twas Teatime at the Circus brings out the silliness that the band did so well on the debut, In the Autumn of My Madness (sung, I believe, by Fisher) is quite pretty, the guitar line that introduces Look to Your Soul is GREAT, and I'm more than a bit pleased with the moving guitar soloing during Grand Finale. However, many seeds of bad prog rock are also sown here, from the not-so-great poetry recitation during Glimpses of Nirvana to a bunch of other bits that just aren't interesting on their own. Basically, it has a lot of nice musical passages, but on the whole, it is a VERY rough beginning to the world of overblown epics, and not one I exactly see myself turning back to again and again.

The first side, then, is where the good stuff (ie the 8-quality material) lies. The side-closing (at least, I thought it was until I was told otherwise, oops) Magdalene (My Regal Zonophone) is totally blatant filler, but the first five tracks have more than a bit to offer (and besides, even when the melodies are a little worse than usual, I can't really resist the band's great overall sound). Wish Me Well is the one few times here where Trower gets to use his Hendrix-y bluesman skills, with the keyboards mostly staying out of the way and the whole band singing while Robin gets his ya-ya's out. Rambling On is a cute story (set to a mellow piano theme) about wanting to be like Batman after watching a Batman movie at the local theatre, followed by all sorts of morbidly funny things (indeed, this may be the funniest poem Reid ever allowed to be put to tape by the band).

The best of the side, though, is the three tracks that start off the album. Skip Softly (My Moonbeams) was a bit too "sissyish" for me when I first heard it, but that's only because of the bouncy melody - the song, with the loud bass, eerie organ, moody guitar and totally unexpected quote from ... WHAT IS THE NAME OF THAT BLASTED CLASSICAL PIECE ... anyway, the thing that comes at the end, all make this anything but sissyish. Even better, though, are the first two tracks, where the vocal melodies match most anything from the first album, and where Gary almost tries to match it with some emotion in his voice. Quite Rightly So has some great climaxes throughout, with Trower's guitar subtly coming in at just the right times to up the tension and drama when building up to Brooker's best wailings (oh, and there's more great keyboard work, but that goes without saying). The best of the lot, though, is the title track, with a vocal melody that once more demonstrates Brooker's genius and is accentuated by a well-placed monotonous guitar line in the chorus. And hey, I could never ever get tired of the organ part creeping behind Brooker's voice as he builds to the climaxes before each chorus.

Overall, then, this is a good album - I originally wanted to give it a 7, but it grew on me more than a bit, and as such that grade would seem somewhat lacking. Regardless, though, it's way too flawed in some places (in my opinion) to have any chance of matching, let alone exceeding, the brilliance of the debut.

As for the bonus tracks, my edition of Shine on Brightly... Plus contains a whopping EIGHT bonus tracks. And all of them suck! Nah, just kidding, it's just that two of them were also bonus tracks on Whiter Shade (Seem to Have the Blues, Monsieur Armand), two of them are versions of an ok political piece called In the Wee Small Hours of Sixpence, two of them are early takes of Quite Rightly So, and one of them is the title track sung in Italian. There is also an ok jazzy piece called Alpha, which the band never did live until its various reunion tours in the 90's. Anyway, though, if you have the choice between this version and the original Shine On, feel free to grab this one, but only if it doesn't cost too much more than would the version without these bonuses.

Conveniently enough, it's the two tracks with all-out orchestrations attached that grab my attention the most (and are almost certainly a primary reason for this album's popularity amongst fans of the group). The title track is an absolute, stone-cold PH classic, with absolutely jaw-dropping imagery in Reid's lyrics (and graced with a very nice Brooker vocal, both in tone and in the amazing vocal melody) set to completely orchestral backing that only seems appropriate given the utter majesty of the whole piece. I'm not going to be quoting Reid lyrics much in these reviews, but I just have to say - there is just something absolutely devestating that happens within me when I hear this final stanza.

"We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept: our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many Junes have passed since we made land
A salty dog, this seaman's log: your witness my own hand"

Anyway, I'm also very very fond of the Fisher-sung Wreck of the Hesperus, this time with the orchestra accompanying the rest of the band. Fisher once more proves himself as every bit Brooker's equal as a songwriter (at least, in the smaller quantities that he was allowed to contribute), as he combines a simple (but very effective) rolling Brooker piano line with a vocal melody filled to the brim with climaxes, and (best of all) allows Trower's guitar to interact with the orchestra in one of the greatest sonic moments I've ever heard. Seriously, I have no idea how to adequately describe those parts in the instrumental breaks where Trower's guitar soars upward through the midst of the orchestra, like, I dunno, like the great god Poseidon rising up from the sea, with giant waves walling up and announcing his arrival. It's almost a shame this track has the misfortune to share space with the title track - on almost any other PH album (barring the debut), this would be the highlight.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album falters somewhat in comparison. Don't misunderstand me, there's not a single track on here I really dislike - it's just that, when it's all said and done, I have to exert a bit more effort than I'd like to keep my head from drooping over and my will from faltering. The biggest problems are (a) no "light" tracks to lessen the load a bit (in other words I miss Mabel and Good Captain Clack *sniff*) and (b) almost no tracks with any "bounce" in their step. Well, sort of - there's actually one bonus track that's mislabeled as an album original, an old B-side called Long Gone Geek that's a terrific guitar-heavy up-tempo "old-timey" (though only sort of - it's actually quite hard) rocker that also has bits of the expected great piano work we've come to expect from the band. Truth be told, I GREATLY wish they'd have ended the original album with this one - it may not provide the same hymn-like, conclusion of an epic feel given by the Fisher-sung Pilgrim's Progress (quite pretty in its own right), but as an unexpected blast of energy, one to rouse up the faculties of the mind and cause it to better process all the lushness it just sat through previously (because, after all, contrast between two groups of objects is the best way to bring out the strengths of each), it's just great.

Ok, ok, there's also one other really good up-tempo piece on here, the wonderful The Milk of Human Kindness, with the piano playing off Robin's brilliant riffage with great aplomb. Plus, it has one of the best melodies of the album, and one that, I swear, Genesis "adapted" for the song That's All on Genesis (listen to the melody of "She left me for a wasp without a sting," here and the melody of "I can't feel a thing from my head down to my toes" there, and then tell me if I'm really crazy). Other than that, though, basically everything is somewhere between slow and vaguely-above-mid-tempo, and that hurts things a bit. Too Much Between Us is a lovely ballad, yes, and Boredom is a novel effort that does a good job of conveying boredom without actually being boring, but while the band is nice enough to place a "rockier" piece between them (The Devil Came from Kansas, with all sorts of GREAT guitar soloing), that piece in itself is totally mid-tempo, so there's not enough distinction to help the brain crisply remember all the good characteristics of each. As for All This and More, the melody is once more quite good, but it fails to do much (except for Trower's guitar, that is) that could make it stand out from the other pieces on the album with good melodies.

On the plus side, Trower gets to throw in two of his own compositions, which give a heavier blues rock feel to the album ... but on the minus side, these are ALSO mid-tempo, so even when they break the monotony, they really don't. They're still enjoyable, though - after all, you could hardly expect Trower to restrain himself in his own pieces, and he definitely busts out well in both.

When it's all said and done, then, I'm less sold on the album than a lot of fans are. The songs are all good, yet as an album, it manages to simultaneously succeed marvelously (due to the incredible richness) and, well, not succeed so marvelously (as they fail to, if I may bring in terminology from my chosen field, hedge against "tempo risk"). Still, I don't want to give the wrong impression - I don't dislike this album, and after all, I rate it pretty highly. So please don't kill me.

As for the bonus tracks, they're ok, but once more not that much special (except, of course, for Long Gone Geek). Only one of the tracks is of a previously unreleased piece, but even that (an early version of a song called McGreggor) is nowhere near finished. Otherwise, it's initial takes of All This and More, The Milk of Human Kindness and Pilgrim's progress, as well as an 8th take of a piece on the next album (Still There'll Be More), Home, about to be reviewed in one second.

Alas, while the rest of the album is good, it's just that - good. Not great, or particularly engaging, just a nice collection of ok songs with only a few highlights (well, and also with a whole bunch of good guitar work, but that goes without saying). The Dead Man's Dream is an interesting way to follow up Whisky Train, almost as if the band wanted to follow the tale of an old drunkard with a tale that could come to him if he didn't stop and thus died. The melody is very standard for morbid funeral music, but the organ in the background helps add a terrific feel of gloom, and the lyrics are so incredibly disturbing that they actually manage to become engaging. I also have good feelings for Still There'll Be More, with a bunch of nice melody twists and some great piano-bass interplay not previously seen in Procol (with more great guitar work), and for the hilariously disturbing (in a good way) Piggy Pig Pig, that culminates in the whole band chanting the title in rhythm with the nagging piano line that drives most of the song forward (while there's more REALLY great guitar work. Trower am rule).

Now, this leaves five other songs on the album, none of which (I insist) are Procol Harum classics. Your Own Choice is a nice, soothing way to end the album, but the main melody, while decent enough, doesn't strike me as anything special given Brooker's composing talents. Then again, maybe it's just that I'm tired near the end. You see, right before it is Whaling Stories, which is ... ok. I mean, I can only imagine the cascade of flames that will come my way from angry Procol fans, but the fact that it's of an epic form is not enough to automatically make it a classic. I mean, just as there's good and less-good short songs, there's good and less-good "long" songs, and while this is by no means bad, I have trouble finding much to hang onto in order to provide me my desired level of entertainment. I mean, the mid-section is alright from an "instrumental firestorm" point of view, but heck, why should I listen to this when I can turn to Repent Walpurgis, which I insist is easily the better of this in most every way? The end works well enough as a rousing coda, but I'd sure prefer to have this (well done) section cap off a better piece.

The rest is the rest - Nothing That I Didn't Know is most notable for the presence of an accordion near the end, About to Die has an interesting heavy distorted riff that matches the subject matter well (alas, though, the vocal melody isn't particularly interesting, though not bad), and Barnyard Story is ... just kinda there. Mind you, though, that I don't mind any of these songs when I'm listening to the album - in retrospect, they get massively overshadowed by the highlights, but they're quite enjoyable when on.

So yeah, by Procol standards it's a slightly weak album, but then again, Procol Harum's standards were such that putting out anything less than a "very good" album was beyond them for quite a long time. Visible flaws exist, but there's enough new wrinkles (a la the increased importance of Trower) in the sound to keep things somewhat fresh, and there's enough in the way of highlights to help things out significantly. Don't make this your first PH album if you're more of an "art" than a "rock" person, but don't think about permanently avoiding it either.

Oh, as seems customary by now, my version of the album contains quite a few bonus tracks - NINE to be precise. Of course, as usual, they're mostly just early takes, and while they have historical value, I'm not gonna go gaga over them. There is, however, an impressive bit of improvised band jamming from the very very beginning of the album sessions, as well as a take of the whole band completely cracking up for half a minute, so at least there's some novelty value this time around.

The album does have some tracks that don't quite cut the mustard for me, but not any more than on a typical PH album, so I'm not particularly bothered. Of these, the title track is a low point - it's uncharacteristically built around an unimpressive synth loop, with nothing great in the vocal melody or lyrics to redeem it (not to mention NO GUITAR WORK), and at 3:11 it's easily a good minute-and-a-half overlong. I'm also not that fond of Luskus Delph - it wants so much to get by just on "oh, isn't that pretty," but aside from the ok vocal melody, there's simply too little substance (strings and all) to make it so. And again, what is it with this sudden need on Brooker's part to use a synth to try and create "beauty" when he'd already shown his great skill at using "traditional" keyboard instruments to do so perfectly well?

The other six tracks, however, are all aces - they won't fit one's traditional conception of PH, but they're great nonetheless. Simple Sister gets the album off to a terrific start, with a great guitar riff serving as the foundation while Brooker yells his head off (he isn't the most convincing rocker in the world, but he tries), and a great instrumental chunk in the middle based around a different bass/piano riff while Trower first builds the tension with his riffage and then does a bunch of totally effective and efficient solos, with strings and horns gradually popping up to remind that this is, in fact, still Procol Harum you're listening to. It's a weird combination of materials, definitely, but then I'm all for weirdness when it's a synonym for originality, and I'd definitely be more than a bit surprised if there were any other rock songs that quite resembled this little ditty.

Other high quality hard rock tunes on this album include Memorial Drive, a great riff-driven groove (with semi-bombastic lyrics that sound oddly out-of-place but don't hurt anything), Power Failure, with a neat rolling piano riff augmented by power chords (and some random "live" cheering in the middle, for whatever reason), and the closing Trower-sung Poor Mohammed, which rocks so well that I find myself desperately wishing that the band could have included more tracks along these lines and made the album longer. The main riff is just killer, especially that little slide thing at the end of each iteration, and I haven't even mentioned the crunchy soloing at the end. Go Robin go!

The other two tracks aren't hard rock, but they manage to rule nonetheless, and are an interesting diversion in the PH catalogue. Well, ok, Playmate of the Mouth is slightly "hard," but that's mostly because it's quite bass-heavy - otherwise, it's a lumbering mid-tempo beast of a piano-driven song, with all sorts of unusual brass parts and what-not. As for Song for a Dreamer, this is where Robin really lives up to his Hendrix legacy (for me, anyway), in that the atmosphere and kinds of guitar tones he creates remind me heavily of Hendrix's Rainy Day suite on Electric Ladyland (without being any kind of rote copy), and that's a BIG compliment - I've always been very fond of that suite, after all. Everything's so danged dreamy and echoey and mellow that I simply can't help myself enjoying this, even if it has, again, NOTHING to do with the classic PH sound.

So there's your great great album. Unfortunately, this is the last album (until the short-lived '91 reunion) to have Trower on guitar, as he decided to leave (or was pushed out? Who knows) and pursue a critically acclaimed solo career. I should also note that this album is EXTREMELY difficult to find on CD - in the late 1990's, most of the Procol Harum catalogue was reissued world-wide, but for whatever reason this album seemed to escape the attention of the reissuing company. I had to get my copy through gemm.com (that site RULES for finding rare stuff, by the way) from Russia, and it cost me a good deal (well, $18, whatever) to get it. Still, if for whatever reason you can find a copy of this with relative ease, you should swipe it up immediately.

Oh, and one more thing. What the hell is with the bonus tracks on this album? There are but two of them, and they are ... A Whiter Shade of Pale and Homburg. As in, the ORIGINAL recordings of these tracks. Weird.

But see, the problem is that this album, in retrospect, is waaaaay too cautious for such a supposedly groundbreaking experience. See, while so much of the band's catalogue to this point was suited well to an orchestra, this live album only contains five tracks, one of which is a totally rote copy of In Held Twas In I, which I never really loved in retrospect. It sounds ok, but then again, to me the original just sounded ok; in other words, the "revelatory" nature of this performance is virtually nil. Similarly, A Salty Dog is done on side one, and it sounds perfectly beautiful ... but the original was ALREADY completely orchestrated. So while it was probably cathartic to the max for those who were actually there, here it's just like, "well, ok, now I just have to remember if I just listened to the live or studio version, oh, wait, there's applause, I guess it's the live version."

The other three choices are less obvious, fortunately, but even these vary in quality. All This and More has always been decent, but just that - I mean, it'd be a hell of a lot neater if they could have included, say, Simple Sister or whatever, and I don't see what this version adds to the previous one at all. However, the first two tracks of the album are easily worth the cost, and the main reason I give this as high of a grade as I do. Conquistador totally blows away the already great original, with the orchestra providing a bunch of counterpart riffs to the main melody, and the way they sound during the "And though I hoped for something to find ..." part is total symphonic-rock majesty. Likewise, Whaling Stories is much better, though in this case the change is from "ehn" to "wow" as opposed to the "wow" to "WOW" change of Conquistador. Put another way, I actually notice the various atmospheric nooks and crannies I couldn't be enticed to notice before, and this is the one place on the album where I feel like my music exposure has been widened significantly.

So yeah, it's an alright album. I doubt anybody but a diehard would want or need it, though.

If you haven't yet heard the album, allow me to describe it as such: imagine what rock music would be like if, instead of having Chuck Berry as one of its main forefathers, it had Niles Krane of Frasier fame at its roots. This is rock music filtered through endless layers of prissiness, filled to the brim with classical-based melodies, operatic themes and female choirs; music for people whose idea of "roughing it" is to stay in a hotel room that costs $1500 a night instead of $2000 a night. Truth be told, I'd be quite surprised if this wasn't one of the first albums trashed into the ground when the punk movement started to gain full momentum. Yup, if ever you wanted a violation of the "true spirit" of rock music, you got it right here. How much does it rule? LOTS.

Indeed, as frighteningly grotesque as this album could be in theory, the band actually manages to successfully pull the sound off well, and not to make total morons of themselves in the process. Brooker's songwriting is mostly solid throughout, and the band likewise does an incredible job of arranging ideas that, in the hands of a lesser group, would have come across as absolutely ridiculous at best. One of the tracks, TV Caesar, is pretty awful, as it tries to create a bombastic epic piece around a melody that barely deserves two minutes of the listener's time, but the rest is danged terrific. The overall sound is a bit more monotonous than usual (even for PH), but that's just a minor quibble - taken on their own, each of the other eight tracks is (at worst) a minor gem.

The two biggies of the album (and I mean BIG, as in lushed up to the max) are, of course, the opening title track and the penultimate Fires Which Burnt Brightly. The first, in particular, should be a disaster, but instead manages to be almost endlessly entertaining, as a nice vocal melody is developed very well and quickly becomes surrounded by choirs and strings and epic-sounding guitar in parts and bits of classical quotes here and there to top it off. The lyrics, of course, are the epitome of the "Niles Krane" vibe given throughout the album, but they only add to the effect - this is over-over-over-the-top lushness, yet where ANYBODY else would have allowed this piece to collapse under its own weight, Procol find the optimal balance of all the arrangements and ideas, largely because no idea is overdone. As such, it's like a whole night's worth of snooty panoramic scenes shot through my stereo in the mere span of six minutes, and oh what a great six minutes it is.

Even better, though, is Fires, strange as it may seem. The main keyboard theme is simply PERFECT, with yet another brilliant vocal melody attached, while nice touches of female vocals give a slight tinge of depression to the already melancholy lyrics. One should also take note of the lengthy instrumental passages, in the middle and at the end, which show they managed to adjust to Trower's absence after all - I almost expected to get the feeling from listening that Brooker would still want to instinctively write these passages in a way that would call for Trower to step in and do his stuff, if only by instinct, but instead he manages to set it up so that the void is more than adequately filled by keyboards and the lovely female vocals.

None of the other tracks jump out as emphatically as those two, but they're still quite good nonetheless. There's a couple of pieces that can almost count as "rockers," even though they're piano-based and don't have any cool Hendrix-esque guitar lines that would immediately distinguish them as such. Still, a good riff is a good riff, whether played on piano or guitar, and the main one played by piano and bass on Toujours L'Amour definitely qualifies. And let's give Grabham a little credit - he may not be as distorted or as fancy as Trower was, but he still gives out quite a nice solo near the end of the piece. Even better for guitar lovers like me, though, is Bringing Home the Bacon, which has great piano/drums interplay (yes, you read right) as its main theme, but also has a nice ominous distorted guitar riff that pops up from time to time, not to mention quite a few nice chunks of soloing, so I'm happy.

Elsewhere, there's a couple of slow moody pieces about various topics, both of which are quite enjoyable in their own way. For Liquorice John is a minor favorite of mine, with a piano theme that doesn't "develop" much but is all the better for it, as it creates an atmosphere that suitably mirrors the "fall from grace" mentioned repeatedly in the lyrics. A Rum Tale is moody as well, but it's much more upbeat, even if it is about becoming an alcoholic - it deals with escapist fantasies that can be fueled quite easily by the effects of alcohol on the brain, and in that regard it works quite well.

There's also a couple of nice "lesser" (lesser = lightweight, thank goodness) pieces that provide some much needed relief, as the others can wear me down quite a bit if I'm not amply prepared (even as good as they are). A Souvenier of London is hilarious, a hickish-sounding ditty about ending up with VD after sowing your oats in London, and the closing Robert's Box has an almost Caribbean atmosphere to it in the verses, which I'm sure is meant as some sort of irony (though I'm not really sure how) given that the lyrics are about smuggling drugs. Ah well, I like 'em just the same, and the bombastic ending to the latter is somehow fitting for the album.

In short, except for one misstep and possibly (read: probably) overdoing the lushness on a general level, the album shows that the primary greatness of PH's music lay not with Fisher or Trower, brilliant as they were, but rather with Brooker's brilliancy as a songwriter and the ability of others to accomodate his vision well. If you like early PH a lot but are afraid of what would happen when Trower left, please get this to assuage your fears, you won't regret it.

This experience kicks off with the opening Nothing but the Truth, which is built around a MARVELOUS set of piano riffs and has, thanks to healthy amounts of both strings and guitar, quite a nice texture, one that definitely reminds you you're listening to Procol Harum and yet doesn't sound at all like a retread of previous ideas. It also helps that there are a few VERY unpredictable melody twists in the middle, and the end result is a three-minute pop song with more ideas than most bands could hope to come with for thirty. Similarly, the following Beyond the Pale has its own fascinating keyboard theme, with another great melody acting as counterpoint and vaguely adding to the tension near the end, until it too crashes down at about the three-minute mark and leaves me feeling much more satiated than the mere running time might suggest it could.

After the "lightweight" opening duo, the album takes a slight turn for the more serious, but that's definitely not a complaint. As Strong as Samson ultimately turns out as the big highlight of the album, as it manages to take a perfectly lovely, somewhat anthemic verse melody and then outdo itself by throwing in one of the best melody twists I've EVER heard. No, really, I'm serious here - the melody in the "ain't no use in preachers preaching when they don't know what they're teaching" part is one of the most perfect, shattering, totally cathartic hooks I've heard in my life, and that it gets repeated in different variations during the coda only makes me that much happier. As for its followup, The Idol, it might not be able to quite live up to Samson, but it's still an absolutely wonderful, gorgeous anthem about false Gods being exposed for the frauds they are (at least, that's what I'm guessing its about), not to mention that the guitar solo in the extended ending is absolutely superb.

None of the other compositions are quite as unbeliveably brilliant as the opening quartet, but most of them have their good sides nonetheless. I could live without The Thin End of the Wedge, which tries to hard to be "menacing" without remembering to be "entertaining," but everything else is quite satisfactory. My favorites are the two straightup rock songs, both of which amply show that much of Procol's greatness in fusing rock and classical stems from the fact that they really knew how to do "normal" rock. Monsieur R. Monde actually comes from the debut album sessions (it was a bonus track on Whiter Shade, remember?), and while I wasn't particularly wowed there, this version gives Grabham plenty of opportunities to get his ya-ya's out, while Brooker reminds us that piano can rock just as much as guitar if it really wants to. Better still, though, is the ending Drunk Again (not on the original album, but a B-side tacked onto the CD reissue), with a simple-but-GREAT crunchy riff that provides an ample foundation on which, just as on Monde, both keyboards and guitars are given the opportunity to rock and roll and boogie along like nobody's business.

The other three tracks aren't particularly noteworthy, but definitely not bad either. Fresh Fruit is the sort of piece you'll like if you liked Mabel on the debut, Butterfly Boys is another piano-driven pop-rocker along the lines of Nothing but the Truth (not as hook-filled, but with a nice enough chorus), and New Lamps for Old is a bit anthemic along the lines of Samson and Idol but not quite as stunning (yet with its own charms, such as the way Brooker sings the chorus, or the little rising line he sings at the ending of some verses). Regardless, though, despite the fact that the album ends weaker than it began, I don't want to hold it against the album so much as to reduce it below a nine. It may not sound like the unique Procol Harum we've grown to know and love, what with all these pop and r&r pieces, but it does show that Brooker, even as he might have slightly begun to slip as a creative genius, still had enough gas left in him to produce a great album that stands up to most anything in their catalogue. And hey, I'd like to give kudos to the AMG on this one - I may not agree with giving this album the highest ranking of any PH album, as they did, but I can definitely see where they're coming from, and it's not very often that I find myself in any sort of philosophical agreement with the All-Music Guide.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm hardly the kind of person who would say anything like, "Oh no! They changed their style, and I fear change! Therefore I shun this record! *shun*." But there's a difference between changing from one unique style to another unique style and changing from a unique style into something which any one of a zillion bands could pull off just as well. For the most part, there's no interesting instrumentation, as neither Brooker's pianos nor Grabham's guitar even approach the excitement level of Exotic, and as for the songs themselves ... well, let's just say that it's a BAD THING if, after listening to an ostensibly pop album four times, I have to wrack my brain like mad to remember how most of the songs go. There are bits and pieces of real potential (parts of Fools Gold, or the unexpected use of a Clavinet on The Unquiet Zone), but for the most part, the songs just are kind of there, not really doing anything exceptional to warrant my attention.

I mean, it should say something that the two best tracks on the whole thing are a Beatles cover and a song that was written before the recording of Whiter Shade. The former (which closes the album) is a decent enough runthrough of Eight Days a Week (with some nice passion in Gary's voice), and the latter, Pandora's Box, manages to remind me why I got into the band in the first place. What can I say, it has an interesting, somber keyboard theme, an interesting slowing of tempo at the end of each "chorus" (if it can really be called that), a couple of moments where the guitars actually get to do something interesting ... yup, if any PH album was going to have a strong outtake at ready to save a weaker album, it was gonna be the debut, and it pulls through just fine and dandy here.

Otherwise, though ... ehn. I mean, few of these songs are offensive when they're on (though The Final Thrust sounds a little bit too dippy for my tastes), and most of them have one or two moments that make me go "hmm, that's neat, I guess," but overall this album can hardly be held anywhere near the standard of quality the band had established for itself for the last 7-odd years. The end was clearly near for Brooker and Co., and unless you're a diehard for the sound of his voice, don't use a lot of energy looking for this one. If there's a cheap copy sitting in a nearby used bin, though, think about grabbing it for Pandora's Box.

Yet while this move may not have a direct impact on the album, it is definitely symptomatic of the overall problem here: there is no surer sign of an art-rock band losing touch both with themselves and with the overall music scene than when they decide that the best way to become "artsy" again is to make the keyboards sound cheezier. After Ninth predictably failed to bring Procol Harum any newfound pop success or acclaim, one gets the impression that the members kinda flopped around looking for some new direction, and eventually compromised on getting artsy once more. Unfortunately, while there are certainly a few glimpses of solid inspiration, it is clear that, in this direction at least, Brooker's genius was gone (or going, at least).

It's quite telling, indeed, that the best song on here is Grabham's The Mark of the Claw, based around a terrific heavy riff and with a neat repeated start-stop coda. There are some cheezy synth solos within, but there's also a terrific guitar solo near the end, so I'm willing to forgive it. The Brooker compositions, though, are, um, uneven at best. One of them, Wizard Man, doesn't fit in whatsoever, as it's just a verrrrry average happy pop song amidst a sea of slow melancholy. The opening title track makes a vague attempt to revisit the glory of "classic" Procol, but it falls flat on its face; there's none of the usual genius to be found here, only a hope that the listener will fall for it because it resembles something classical, even though it just presents the band as a lame, mannerist parody of itself.

The other two songs on side one aren't brilliant either, but they do manage to stand out quite well, if only because there's a good chunk of really sad, really powerful resonance within each. Skating on Thin Ice is quite nostalgic in tone, but it's not an annoying kind of nostalgia - on the contrary, it shows the band as very very sad that whatever bit of respect and love they might have been able to command at one time with their brand of music had long since dissipated, and without a real understanding of why that had to be so. Strangers in Space is similarly sad, but also has the added effect of conveying a real feeling of floating in the middle of space, knowing you're not going to find anybody ever again, all the while feeling somewhat numb emotionwise and yet also quite depressed about where circumstances had led them. In terms of pure musical worth, these songs may not amount to much in the PH catalogue, yet within their context, they're quite powerful - they're like reading the diary entries of somebody who knows he/she is going to die within a very short time, and spends time lamenting over time lost and opportunities wasted.

Unfortunately, much of the currency this album gains with me with the good tracks on side one is lost on side two. Yes, Procol Harum decided it was time for one more stab at epic bombast, and while I've never been that much of a fan of In Held Twas in I, it's a friggin' masterpiece compared to The Worm and the Tree. Parts of the music are ok, sure, but as a whole, this eighteen minute monster is just AWFUL. The lyrics are done in fable form, and remind me of something Neil Peart might have written on an average day in the mid-to-late-70's. To make things worse, the lyrics aren't sung, but rather spoken at various parts, and I just can't help but cringe the whole time. By the time the very end comes, with the expected big bombastic ending, my eyes have rolled so far into the back of my head that I can see my brain stem.

In short, the first side is mildly entertaining overall (a high six or low seven) to me, but the second side is terrible (a three that it should be happy to get). Average it out, and you have maddening mediocrity (a low five in my eyes), as well as my regret that the band that could not put out a bad album for so very long stuck around long enough to put out something as mediocre as this. The band broke up soon after touring this album, perhaps not wishing to sully their name anymore, yet left their fans a solid legacy to enjoy for as long as they so wished.

The whole thing basically came about when drummer BJ Wilson died in 1989. Nostalgia, or at least the recognition of the power of nostalgia to generate revenue, prompted the original forces of the band to come together for a reunion album. Hence, aside from Brooker and Reid, both Fisher and Trower are back for PS. Unfortunately, they do nothing to help the album - if I listen REALLY hard, I can hear a bit of Hammond, but not much, so Fisher's contribution is marginal at best. As for Trower, well, there's absolutely no real indication that the guitars on this album are handled by one of the former guitar geniuses of the art-rock world - there is NOTHING on this album that measures up to the brilliance that made me love the guy so much in the first place.

And the songs, ugh ... I knew I was in for major problems when I first heard the initial ten seconds of this album, with a generic electronically enhanced drum beat underlying an overproduced, underinspired "ambient" guitar pattern. I knew I was REALLY in trouble when I realized after listening to the album for a while that this chunk was part of the best track on the album by FAR. The Truth Won't Fade Away is strangely enjoyable, despite my initial reaction to it - Brooker's voice has a slight roughness to it here that it lacked in the 70's, and combined with a nice vocal melody, I can feel a bit of the emotional power of old coming through. Besides, there's snippets of generic, but quite lovely piano breaks, so I'm not too unhappy with the track as a whole.

After that, though, oy vey. Try as I may, I CANNOT distinguish between these songs in my head, even a few seconds after each track stops. Arrgh, why did so many art-rock bands feel the need to go so blandly Adult Contemporary around this time??!! The cliches abound here, both lyrically and musically - Reid doesn't say anything interesting with his texts whatsoever, and the actual music does not for one second show any of the beautiful idiosyncracy that made me like this band so much.

In short, save your money. Get ANYTHING by the band before this. ANYTHING.

Sorry, that's been going through my head since I bought this album, I had to type it to get it out. Why Procol Harum decided to rise from the dead twelve years after their "comeback" is beyond me, but I'm rather glad they did - at least now they have a chance to end on a decent note, rather than on that Prodigal Stranger garbage. This time around, the original members are represented only by Brooker, Fisher and Reid, with a cast of assorteds filling the other roles, but this is fine by me - there's no excessive sterilization of the sound, and as such the guitars, bass and drums, however 'standard' they may sound, at least sound like guitars, bass and drums should. Add in that Fisher's organ is MUCH more prominent here than on Prodigal, and you have a return to the standard Procol sound, which is good news in itself.

Yup, despite the fact that Reid's lyrics suck something fierce this time around, and that Gary is sounding more and more like the voice from Schoolhouse Rock, this is a perfectly nice listen for anybody who liked the band's 'classic' albums (ie, me). It's nowhere near as strong songwriting-wise as the albums through Exotic Birds, but Brooker hasn't lost his talent completely, as I thought he had before. Some of them manage to actually kinda rule - the opening An Old English Dream does a great job of reminding me why I liked this band in the first place, as it moves from a piano ballad to a piano/guitar anthem in grand fashion, with Gary singing just as well as ever. I'm also very partial to Shadow Boxed, which bases itself around a TERRIFIC synth loop (something Procol never was able to pull off in their classic days) over which Gary sings a catchy-as-hell melody while the band accentuates the song with, er, the standard instrumentation.

Other highlights include: A Robe of Silk, where the band jumps out of its skin to make the sound as close to Whiter Shade as possible; The VIP Room, which has a low-key, sorta jazzy bitterness in its classy piano riffs and vocal delivery, augmented by good guitars; The Question, which kinda sounds like Procol Harum doing Dire Straits; Wall Street Blues, where the band actually manages to really rock for the first time in forever, both in the riff and in Brooker's awesome piano work; Every Dog will Have His Day, another instance of the band managing to rock and that even has Gary howling like a dog. Hey, the album even closes with a Fisher-penned instrumental! Sure, it can't hold a candle to Repent Walpurgis, but few things in this world can, and as such it's still extremely enjoyable. Lots of organ, both soft and LOUD, lots of cathartic guitar lines to accentuate the power of the keys, you know the drill.

There's a bunch of other songs on here too, and while few of them particularly excite me, none are nasty, bar perhaps one or two of the slower ballads. Who knows, if it were done in the 70's, or with Reid's level of lyrical genius from that time, it might even get an 8 from me (and be thought of as one of the string of nice, solid albums). If you're a diehard Procol fan, this album is for you - even if you're not, it's still a nice enough listen from time to time.