Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Van Der Graaf Generator
Label: EMI Records
Release: 2008
Rating: 5/5
The return of Van Der Graaf Generator, legends of innovation and pioneers of the darker side of progressive rock, kicked off a few years ago with a new tour, their first in over 25 years, and the release of the excellent album “Present” (2005). And it keeps rolling with “Trisector”. It was easily one of the most anticipated albums of the year among fans of progressive rock and every form of highly experimental music. Before this record the band stepped into a whole new era, because longtime saxophonist and flautist David Jackson had left. So for the first time in their career, Van Der Graaf Generator became a trio: the indestructible singer and lyrical visionary Peter Hammill, who keeps his distinctive, hugely vivid and poetic way of singing and, even more actively than usual, shines as a guitarist on this album; keyboardist Hugh Banton, eternally in love with the sound of his organs, which he has now expanded into the spots where the woodwinds used to be; and drummer Guy Evans, one of the finest drummers in the history of progressive rock and, besides Hammill, the only member who has appeared in every one of their lineups. Those three heavyweights were also the original members who first fired up the VDGG engine in 1968, so they’ve always been considered the core of the band. Despite all their merits, though, most of the band’s fans until then couldn’t imagine their sound without Jackson’s sax. So the biggest question was undoubtedly how the band would sound now, and how they’d manage to fill all the wind parts usually covered by the hugely popular and charismatic Jackson.
The remaining three members solved this problem in a surprisingly successful way and plugged the sonic hole left by Jackson’s departure well enough. Where Banton’s expanded organs didn’t take over the usual wind spots (and there’s more of them here than any lover of the instrument could wish for), Hammill’s guitar did. This time Hammill delivers noticeably more guitar riffs and razor-sharp passages than usual, and it’s fair to say that after all these years he’s proven himself very well in this department too. As a guitarist, in my opinion, he even turns in the best performance of his entire VDGG career up to that point. To the delight of his followers, his singing is still at an exceptionally high level, so you can barely tell that the “Thin Man” has aged at all over the years in his ever-distinctive lyrical delivery. Sure, he lets himself do a bit less screeching and hit fewer of the high notes than he once did, but he’s still an incredible storyteller of his own poetry and a conveyor of a whole spectrum of emotions, which he, as a true vocal chameleon, can pour into any given song.
To the inevitable question of whether you still miss Jackson, I could answer yes and no. These are definitely still the good old VDGG, but not quite the ones we were used to. The songs are a little shorter than usual, but no less complex and majestic for it. Their sound has become just a shade less obscure and a bit more melodic, while the individual arrangements still hold that dramatic component, building slowly and then effectively switching between moods that are mostly melancholic and dark. There’s only a taste of avant-garde jazz improvisation within the songs this time, which will please everyone who didn’t like the extra disc of pure improvisations on “Present”. Even though their sonic profile has changed, there’s no reason whatsoever for panic among longtime fans of their dark post-apocalyptic visions and Hammill’s metaphysical and often extremely sarcastic lyrics. Alongside King Crimson, Van Der Graaf Generator, with their dark arrangements and lyrics, remain utterly convincing, gloomy yet mocking chroniclers of the declining Western civilization and every aspect of its endless apathy. “Trisector” is fresh and inspired enough to satisfy everyone who misses bigger innovation in modern prog rock, while also containing all of their trademark elements. First and foremost, as always, there’s the unmistakable, hugely charismatic Hammill vocal, Banton’s great treasure trove of organs (often with dirty guitar riffs run through them), and Evans’s varied drumming. All of this keeps delivering that unmistakable VDGG magic, which not even Jackson’s departure could shake.
The opening instrumental “The Hurlyburly” already confirms that VDGG haven’t lost one bit of their trademark high-tension energy, and it could easily sit on any of their classic albums. After an obscure rustle of effects, a lonely guitar riff cuts in, with drums in the background. Then comes the first transition and with it fiery passages on Banton’s organ, run through Hammill’s sharp and occasionally melancholy-tinged guitar lines and Evans’s dynamic drum tempo. Hammill borrowed the odd title of this song from a black comedy play about dysfunctional film actors, which was later made into a film starring Sean Penn.
Anyone not yet convinced by the opening instrumental of the quality of VDGG’s new look will throw their doubts out the window at the first bars of the excellent “Interference Patterns”, which, with its scattered guitar riff laid over the organs, once again recalls their old days a little. This is where Hammill’s poetic vocal first kicks in, still gliding incredibly well between paranoia and theatricality and fitting perfectly with the instrumental sections, as usual rather dark in color.
“The Final Reel”, which opens with a gentle melody formed by an elegant piano, nicely releases the electrified atmosphere that built up over the first two songs. Hammill’s vocal and the gothic sound of the organs effectively deliver another black tale from Peter’s rich stock of socially critical ideas. The melancholy mood created by the organ, piano and sharp drums is often at odds with Hammill’s mocking, as always excellent singing.
The majestic “Lifetime”, which could just as well sit on one of their early albums, opens with a gentle melody on gothic-tinged organs, followed by electric piano. Hammill’s singing is completely subdued this time, in harmony with the melancholy created by the minor-key lines of the organ and guitar. Through metaphor, Hammill tells of his own awareness of aging and of the incredible transience and fragility of human life in general.
“Drop Dead”, one of the heaviest pieces on the album, nicely shows how Banton’s organs managed to replace, quite satisfactorily, the lines usually reserved for the saxophone. This song has an almost hard rock rhythm. Contributing to that are the pretty dirty electric guitar riffs, which this time are far from buried in the background, Banton’s bass guitar line laid over the organs, and the razor-sharp drums with plenty of fills. Hammill even treats us to a short guitar solo, not exactly one of his usual habits, while Banton’s excellent organ solo is there too. And of course, once again, don’t overlook Peter’s hugely varied singing, which this time delivers one of his more brutal lyrics.
“Only In a Whisper”, the most jazz-leaning piece on the album, calms the electrified mood down a little again. With its gentle keyboard melody, the sound of cymbals and vivid singing, it veers a bit toward some of the material from Hammill’s solo career. Its lyrics, touching on various delusions of human history, the Inquisition among them, briefly bring back the memory of the unforgettable VDGG classic “White Hammer”.
The highly dramatic “All That Before” is once again a somewhat crunchier piece, with an excellent bass line laid over mighty organs, comparable to some VDGG classics of the past. Hammill’s theatrical vocal is again at the center of the composition and the main building block of its dramatic, apocalyptic mood. The instrumental section has heavily distorted electric guitar riffs and an abundance of Banton’s diabolical-sounding organs. Hammill surprises again with a short but interesting guitar solo, the kind I wouldn’t have credited him with even a few years back. Eventually the drama eases off and the composition ends in an unusual and rather mysterious way.
I’d call the last two compositions on the album its best, and true VDGG classics. “Over The Hill”, the only piece on the album longer than 10 minutes, is a perfect VDGG classic, you could even call it the album’s centerpiece, gradually building a dramatic atmosphere and effectively gliding between gloomy and grandiose moods. This superb, extremely complex composition of epic proportions has everything the heart of any VDGG and prog rock fan could wish for. It contains all of the band’s best and most beloved elements. Its intro is rather gentle, if not almost innocent. Banton slowly builds a melancholy melody on the organ alongside Hammill’s “conciliatory” vocal. In time the drama, through dark organ textures and dirty guitar riffs, reaches its boiling point, just as is typical of all their best epics, and a majestic, epic moment follows that bursts all the pent-up tension. This then repeats several more times throughout the composition. Full credit once again goes to Hammill’s dreamlike vocal performance, Banton’s magnificent organ textures, the dirty guitar lines and Evans’s rattling drums. A perfect VDGG classic that will surely become a staple of their live shows.
No less good is the closing, extremely dark “(We Are Not) Here”, another future VDGG classic, which opens with an immensely mighty organ sound. Soon it’s joined by an excellent vocal performance from Hammill, who sounds as if he were suffering some hellish torment. With this composition VDGG prove once again that the apocalypse is far from over and that the gates of hell are still wide open. Here too their tradition of complex time changes and dramatic, theatrical sections comes alive in a completely fresh way. The album ends the way it began, with a rustle of effects.
“Trisector” is well on its way to being the top contender for the best prog rock release of the year. It also looks good as a candidate for one of the best albums in the genre since “Present”. No matter how hard the assorted neo-prog crowd and the Swedish and American prog revivalists of the 90s strain these days, the prog pioneers led by VDGG, despite the weight of the years, still remain a class apart and prove that the student can never be better than the teacher. “Trisector” admittedly can’t compete with their best works like “Pawn Hearts” (1971), “Godbluff” (1975) and “Still Life” (1976), but it takes a thoroughly respectable place in their discography, where you won’t find a single mediocre album. If I were handed the tough task of sorting their albums into better and worse, “Trisector” would definitely land in the better half. With “Trisector”, Van Der Graaf Generator have (once again) proven that even in a “weakened” lineup, as a trio, they eat all the modern prog crowd for breakfast, and often in just one section of a given song they show more energy and freshness than most such bands manage in their entire careers. It’s also very heartening that they remain true masters of unpredictability. Rather ironically, Jackson’s departure surely contributed to that, since it gave them a unique chance to shape their sound in a new way, without sax, flute (or violin). VDGG thus remain one of the extremely rare prog rock bands that can boast a discography without a single bad moment or cuckoo’s egg. Years ago I’d have had a hard time believing that they, after an absence of almost thirty years, would be among the most active prog pioneers today, and with fresh ideas on top of it. In this way too they remain a shining example and guiding light for all future prog rock musicians. Since I don’t know how to praise “Trisector” enough, I’ll close by wishing Van Der Graaf Generator another 40 years of music as fantastic as what they’ve delivered on all their records up to now.
Lineup
Peter Hammill – vocals, guitar, piano
Hugh Banton – organ, bass guitar
Guy Evans – drums
Production
Van Der Graaf Generator
Track list
1. The Hurlyburly (4:34)
2. Interference Patterns (3:49)
3. The Final Reel (5:47)
4. Lifetime (4:43)
5. Drop Dead (4:44)
6. Only in a Whisper (6:43)
7. All That Before (6:26)
8. Over the Hill (12:26)
9. (We Are) Not Here (4:04)
Album length: 53:16
