Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Giles, Giles & Fripp
Label: Eclectic Records
Released: 1968
Rating: 3/5
If the Topalovićs were the strangest funeral crew in the former Yugoslavia, and Laki’s distant cousin Paul Bearer and his urn definitely stood out in the professional “sport”, then in the music world, or more precisely on the British psychedelic rock scene of the late ’60s, that was surely the trio of jokers going by the name Giles, Giles & Fripp. A trio with a name better suited to some funeral parlor or, at best, a law office were, believe it or not, still some of the best musicians on the British psychedelic/pop rock scene of the day, even though until the band came together they weren’t really rock musicians in the true sense of the word, since they felt far more at home in classical music and jazz.
The roots of this short-lived and commercially totally unsuccessful project (which, I’d say, is really no surprise) lie in the meeting of the two Giles brothers, Peter on vocals and bass and Michael on drums, and guitarist Robert Fripp, who until then had played occasional gigs with various local jazz groups and with the band The League of Gentlemen. Believe it or not, but this gang of unusual gentlemen gave rise to the progressive rock legends King Crimson. And that’s exactly what makes this album, which is pretty hard to track down, so interesting for all fans of that band and for anyone digging into the roots of prog rock. Although this psychedelic offering (or proto-prog, if you prefer) barely hints that King Crimson would ever come out of it, and there’s precious little on it you could already call progressive rock, it’s a thoroughly fascinating document of its era, distinguished by authentic British black humor and two pieces that at least give a whiff of what’s to come. I doubt, though, that anyone other than a few fanatical fans of the Pink Floyd classic “The Piper At the Gates of Dawn”, Monty Python and everything that smells of the golden age of psychedelia will find any particular revelation in it. Interestingly, most of the compositions on “The Cheerful Insanity…” were created between 1965 and 1968. You can tell by the considerable sonic variety of some of the pieces. While psychedelic pop with occasional orchestral arrangements and a noticeable Beatles influence mostly dominates, here and there you can also pick up elements of folk, jazz and even avant-garde with a more than obvious Frank Zappa influence.
One of the album’s trademarks is that it’s split into two parts, with the individual songs tied together by Fripp’s offbeat narrations. The first part is held together by the quasi-conceptual burlesque “Saga Of Rodney Toady”, about some ugly, fat loser whom everyone mocked. The pathetic Rodney (I can’t help it, I’m reminded of that Rodney from the sitcom “Only Fools and Horses”, even though the two are completely different) ends up, instead of picking a fat and ugly bird recommended by his equally fat and ugly mum, secretly leafing through a magazine with “dirty” pictures. The second part, meanwhile, is held together by “Just George” (with a deliberate Cockney accent thrown in), another dysfunctional character who radiates intelligence on par with the president “little Bush”. Both stories reflect that typically British black humor, which, with a few honorable exceptions, most prog rock bands later seriously lacked. Fripp managed to keep some of it alive in King Crimson too (Cat Food, Happy Family), while among the better-known acts Genesis (Harrold the Barrel, Willow Farm) and ELP with their “honky tonk” burlesques had their moments as well.
The influence of the Beatles, the only rock band Fripp admits ever influenced his music, is more than obvious throughout, while with its circus-like avant-garde motifs, which could easily sit in some Benny Hill sketch, it’s more reminiscent of a cultivated version of Zappa’s Mothers Of Invention. There’s also a noticeable aftertaste of Barrett’s Pink Floyd, though in my view that’s purely coincidental. That this mix of pop, psychedelia and folk would one day give rise to King Crimson couldn’t be imagined in even the craziest dreams, so don’t bother hunting for pieces where you can feel that something “big” is coming, because you’ll be disappointed. “North Meadows” and “Newly-weeds”, where Fripp already demonstrates a few of his recognizable jazzy guitar lines and you can even hear a bit of Mellotron, are typical examples of psychedelic folk, quite in the style of what Pink Floyd did on their debut, only on a noticeably lower artistic level. “One In a Million”, typical British psychedelic pop, shows it’s the sonically oldest piece on the album. Interestingly, the color of Peter’s voice here occasionally edges toward his successor Greg Lake in the chorus. “Call Tomorrow” is another psychedelic daydream with organ and piano, which surely owes some of its sound to The Moody Blues as well. A few rather average pieces follow. “Digging My Lawn” is almost a psychedelic cliché, something the Beatles had already been doing for a while by then. “Little Children”, with symphonic arrangements and female backing vocals by the trio The Breakaways, is yet another perfect slice of psych/pop ’60s nostalgia.
Things get a bit more complicated for the first time on “The Cruckster”, a genuine piece of avant-garde where Fripp first shows off his appetite for improvisation while Peter recites something rather bizarre in between. Despite considerable unoriginality, some of the numbers had good commercial potential; the only problem, in my view, was that they showed up maybe a year too late. The folk rocker “Thursday Morning”, distinguished by a lovely melody on Fripp’s acoustic guitar, subtle symphonic arrangements and romantic vocal harmonies, could have been a hit in those days with more publicity and a different image and band name. “How Do They Know” is psychedelic pop in all its glory, incredibly reminiscent of Sgt. Pepper-era Beatles. Even Peter’s vocal in the chorus leans heavily toward Lennon’s.
“Elephants” (Fripp always adored elephants, and they’d get their place in one of King Crimson’s later works too) is a fun avant-garde burlesque with elements of absurdity and folk, which, thanks to a quirky motif formed by the guitar and trombone, offers a partial answer to what a meeting between Zappa (the vocals, absurd lyrics, grotesque wind arrangements) and Fripp might have looked like in the ’60s. “The Sun Is Shining” is another very average, stereotypical pop ditty with piano, wind arrangements and female backing vocals, more parody than anything else. At the end of the album you also find its two best moments, which offer at least a tiny glimmer of what would one day follow. The excellent classical instrumental “Suite No. 1” gives insight into Fripp’s guitar genius and a glimpse of his future. In the first part we can enjoy Bob’s fast-fingered playing accompanied by piano (some Mellotron can be heard in the background too), before he gets carried off into pure flamenco/jazz waters. Here you can see the foundation and where the master later spread his influence to future projects and his musical pupils, such as The League Of Crafty Guitarists and the California Guitar Trio that emerged from them. The closing “Erudite Eyes”, with elements of folk and jazz, is another standout, and of all of them the closest to a seed of King Crimson. In the first part the melody even slightly recalls what Caravan did in their early days, until Fripp’s guitar takes the initiative and leads the piece into an atmospheric jazz improvisation, where it shines together with Peter on bass. The latter shows here why he was later good enough for King Crimson too. Michael would later use this piece in a modified version for his project “McDonald And Giles” (1970), which he released after leaving King Crimson.
The 1992 CD edition also includes two noteworthy items. “She Is Loaded” is nothing earth-shattering, quite a Beatles-esque psych/pop number, while “Under The Sky”, which in a modified version also found its way onto “Still”, the first and so far only solo album by Peter Sinfield, King Crimson’s original lyricist, who also wrote its words, is a much more notable creation. This psychedelic folk rocker boasts lovely symphonic arrangements, a good vocal melody, use of Mellotron and flute while Fripp weaves delicate passages on the acoustic guitar. Had it come out on the regular album, it would surely have been the best thing on it.
“The Cheerful Insanity…” is first and foremost a historical document, which will be most interesting to all King Crimson fans and fans of the early origins of progressive rock, while I doubt it’ll draw any paeans even from the biggest fans of British psychedelic rock. If nothing else, despite a considerable lack of originality (and with it recognizability), Giles, Giles & Fripp left their mark with a likable black humor, and in places they already showed there was definitely something special and unpredictable about them, which the following year, with the release of the famous crimson face, led to a new musical revolution within rock music. The band’s inevitable breakup, which nobody took seriously (which was of course their intention too), even though the main cause was poor promotion, was announced by Peter’s departure. Fripp and Michael later managed to find new strength in the singer Judy Dyble (ex-Fairport Convention) and the multi-instrumentalist Ian McDonald. Just as a new British folk rock powerhouse seemed to be looming on the horizon, Dyble left after a few demo recordings (among them “I Talk To the Wind”, which later found its way in a polished version onto the King Crimson debut). The singer/bassist/guitarist Greg Lake and the lyricist/stage technician/roadie Peter Sinfield joined the band, and King Crimson were born.
So what fate befell the immortal trio of merry undertakers after that? Peter Giles stayed in touch with his former comrades for a while and even took the role of bassist on King Crimson’s second album “In the Wake Of Poseidon” (1970). Then for years nothing was heard of him until he formed 21st Century Schizoid Band with former King Crimson members, a group that plays early King Crimson material. Michael, thanks to his low profile, forever remained one of the most overlooked drummers in rock history, one that Stewart Copeland (The Police) once named as one of his role models. After leaving King Crimson in 1969 he still took part as a session musician on “In The Wake Of Poseidon”, after which he and McDonald released the short-lived project McDonald and Giles (1970). The same year he also recorded his first solo album “Progress”, which only came out in the ’90s. After that he worked as a session musician with various names, including guitarist Anthony Phillips (ex-Genesis). In the new millennium he briefly joined Peter in 21st Century Schizoid Band and then handed his seat over to the late Ian Wallace. Fripp, as everyone who hasn’t spent the last couple of decades living under a rock knows, became the undisputed boss of King Crimson and, from a jokey Bob, the group’s central comedian, transformed into one of the most fearsome, yet extremely effective, dictators of the music world.
Lineup
Robert Fripp – guitar
Peter Giles – vocals, bass guitar
Michael Giles – drums
GUEST MUSICIANS:
R. Cohen, W. Reid, K. Isaacs, G. Salisbury, B. Pecker & G. Fields – violin
J. Coulling & R. Patten – viola
Nicky Hopkins & Mike Hill – keyboards
C. Tunnell & A. Ford – cello
C. Hardie & T. Barker – trombone
The Breakaways – backing vocals
Production
Wayne Bickerton
Track list
The Saga of Rodney Toady
1. North Meadow (2:29)
2. Newly-Weds (2:07)
3. One in a Million (2:25)
4. Call Tomorrow (2:31)
5. Digging My Lawn (1:50)
6. Little Children (2:48)
7. The Crukster (1:35)
8. Thursday Morning (2:50)
Just George
9. How Do They Know (2:14)
10. Elephant Song (3:15)
11. The Sun Is Shining (3:06)
12. Suite No. 1 (5:33)
13. Erudite Eyes (5:05)
Bonus tracks on the 1992 CD edition:
14. She Is Loaded (3:11)
15. Under the Sky (4:01)
16. One in a Million (mono single) (2:25)
17. Newly-Weds (mono single) (2:44)
18. Thursday Morning (mono single) (2:57)
19. Thursday Morning (stereo single) (2:57)
Album running time: 59:28
