Typed Slowly Treatment for Southern Culture Myopia.

The Box of Vinyl Project: #2 Emerson, Lake, and Palmer (1971 Cotillion)

Before listening to this record, I knew nothing about Emerson, Lake, and Palmer other than vaguely recognizing the name. After listening to the record, I realized why.

It's hard for me to figure out where to start with this record, so I'll start with what seems like the thematic thread that holds the six songs (six songs and it still clocks in at around 40 minutes) together: pretentiousness and an implied fondness of wizards, fairies, eagles, and fire. And solos played on anything with keys. The record sounds like it'd double pretty well as the soundtrack to old fantasy/sci-fi movies with wizards, fortresses, and weird synthesized soundtracks (e.g., Krull and The Dark Crystal) even though these fantasy elements aren't ever actually mentioned in the lyrics, which said lyrics are few and far between on this record.

So, the majority of the record is instrumental with an emphasis on key instruments (piano, organ, synths, others that I don't know the names of--we'll just call them KI collectively for brevity) and occasionally drums. The solos on the KIs are pretty obviously meant to be the main attraction as every single track has one. In fact, the entire seven-minute track entitled "The 3 Fates: Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos" (Seriously) is one long extended organ and piano solo. Jesus-God is it boring. Did I mention the record is pretentious as well? The second track on side two, "Tank," is probably the most egregiously mistitled song I can bring to memory. It comprises rinky-dink KI solos and an unnecessary (because they are all unnecessary) extended drum solo.  A goddamned drum solo.

The second track on side one, "Take A Pebble," can be considered an embodiement of the record. First of all, it's long. Twelve and half minutes long. Also, it's carried along by some pretty sparse (in this case a good thing) lyrics that could have been borrowed from a philosophical 14 year-old's journal. Take for example: "Sadness on your shoulders/Like a worn-out overcoat [...] Disturbing the waters/Of our lives" sung in utter earnestness. With feeling. Maybe most important is that it jumps from a section of what sounds like an autoharp to acoustic guitar to hand-clapping countryesque sing-along to bad freejazz/fusion KI wankery. Wankery is a good way to sum up the overall feel of the record.

The one oddity on the record is probably the only thing most people would recognize--the closer "Lucky Man." As in "oooooh what a lucky man he was." You've heard it if you've ever listened to classic rock radio. The song's not that bad, but holy shit having to listen to the five songs preceding it is like being weakly punched in the ear repeatedly.

I did not like this record, and unless you like listening to musicians who possess the misunderstanding that musical ability can substitute for interesting or at least listenable songs, I bet you won't like it either.

Will I listen to it again? It's yours if you want it.

Next up: Michael McDonald-If That's What It Takes

Then: The Autumn Defense-Circles

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