Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Barclay James Harvest
Label: Polydor Records
Release: 1974
Rating: 4/5
“Everyone Is Everybody Else” was the first Barclay James Harvest album released on Polydor after the split with their original label, EMI-Harvest. For a band that was gaining more and more recognition and popularity, especially in central Europe, the album also marked a new chapter in their musical career. Their energetic mix of symphonic, pastoral and hard rock had won them a nice bit of success and the affection of plenty of listeners, both prog and classic rock fans, but they still hadn’t managed to break through commercially on a global level, and their homeland would go on treating them like a stepmother treats a stepchild (they had a similar problem to, say, Uriah Heep). Their previous album, “Baby James Harvest” (1972), on which they had mostly been forced to drop the close collaboration with an orchestra that was sinfully expensive to take on tour, something you could hear in the slightly altered sound, didn’t bring the band the commercial success they wanted. That was the main reason their old label threw in the towel, which later turned out to be a big mistake, because at their new label BJH enjoyed growing support across all the German-speaking countries, where they became real stars by the end of the 70s.
For “Everyone Is Everybody Else” the band hired the well-known producer Roger Bain, who was until then best known for his work with heavy rock bands like Black Sabbath and Budgie. That may have been one of the main reasons the members were unhappy with some of the end results. Keyboardist Woolly Wolstenholme in particular, technically the band’s central musician without a doubt, probably had a few choice words for Bain, since he was forced to pull his own composition “Maestoso” from the track list, and it later found its way onto his first solo album. As a result, some of their original pastoral magic disappeared, along with some of the orchestral arrangements that had been typical of the early albums released on Harvest. On the other hand, BJH never sounded as punchy as they do on this album, which must have pleased all the fans of their heavy rock side. And even though Woolly’s contribution is considerably cut back, and this is first and foremost John’s and Les’s album, fans of their symphonic side couldn’t have been disappointed either, because the individual symphonic arrangements are extremely tasteful despite the absence of the orchestra.
Right from the start, BJH were known for putting at least one track with a socially awakening message on every album. One of the best-known anthems of this kind is the opening track on this album, “Child Of The Universe”, which was originally recorded in its first form for John’s solo album “A Major Fancy” (recorded back in 1972, but not officially released until 1977). It features a simple but gorgeous piano arrangement from Woolly, woven together with a plain guitar riff. The main emotional punch of the song undoubtedly lies in its romantic, socially conscious chorus. That chorus is dedicated to all the children whose lives have been ruined by war. Even though the band weren’t happy with its final production, this is one of their best and best-known songs, one that hasn’t lost its original energy and message even today and rightfully belongs among the rock classics. “Negative Earth”, about the dramatic splashdown of the Apollo 13 mission, whose crew barely survived the return to Earth, is another very good, maybe even slightly overlooked, creation. John’s bluesy guitar lines fit perfectly alongside the waves of Woolly’s mellotron and form the melancholic central motif. Les adds his recognizable angelic, falsetto-laced vocals, which can sometimes get annoying, but here they’re anything but. It’s one of the few BJH songs with lyrics written by drummer Mel Pritchard. I’d say it’s a really successful song, whose melancholic melody captures the feeling of loneliness and helplessness that those astronauts went through in space and during re-entry.
The dramatic “Paper Wings”, inspired by a visit to the Eiffel Tower and a plaque commemorating someone who had jumped off it, is without a doubt one of the best pieces on the album, mainly thanks to its many tempo changes. This is where their symphonic-pastoral side really comes to the fore for the first time on the album, as Woolly provides some extremely tasteful, melancholy-tinged lines on organ and mellotron over Les’s acoustic guitar accompaniment. I also have to praise John’s contribution, which, through its weaving of melancholic harmonized melodies and some energetic guitar riffs, shows that this band undoubtedly left its mark on the development of heavy metal. On “The Great 1974 Mining Disaster”, BJH (for the first time, but not the last) took on an interesting experiment, completely rearranging a famous song by another rock band and rewriting its lyrics. In this case it was The Byrds classic “New York Mining Disaster 1941”, which John rearranged and reworked so that it was dedicated to the British miners’ strikes that ultimately led to the fall of the Conservative government of the day. Musically it was an extremely solid, almost classic John pastoral ballad with plenty of acoustic and symphonic embellishments, and it came with witty lyrics full of allusions to the incompetent authorities of the time. You can barely recognize any trace of The Byrds original in it. A few years later, BJH would do something similar with The Moody Blues classic “Nights In White Satin”, but that’s for another review.
The hard-hitting “Crazy City”, about life in a big city (London, in this case), is another one of the album’s big winners and without a doubt a BJH classic. It’s a really interesting track that you could describe as an unusual cross between symphonic prog rock and heavy metal (some would simply call it progressive metal today). Imagine what you’d get if you combined Yes and Iron Maiden and you’ll know what this excellent song sounds like. John’s riffing sounds downright brutal in places, and that, despite the mellotron in the background later on, helps make sure BJH never sounded as punchy again as they do here. The combination of dirty guitar riffs even brushes up against the main motif of the Iron Maiden classic “Genghis Khan”, though I slightly doubt the Irons simply borrowed it, and it’s more likely just another one of many coincidences. The excellent three-part vocal harmonies are impressive too, always one of BJH’s strongest elements. It’s a shame they didn’t make more songs like this, ones that held the seeds of what later became known as prog metal. Next up is the album’s only love ballad, “See Me See You”, a much better-known BJH creation with a strong pastoral streak and excellent choral harmonies. I’d say it’s one of John’s better love songs, with a noticeable cynical edge and a nice mix of piano, acoustic and electric guitar, in which you can hear his love of the Beatles.
If I were to rate the album only up to this point, it would no doubt rank among the top three, if not the top two, BJH albums. Unfortunately, things dip slightly for a while with the next two tracks, confirming that on almost every album they couldn’t avoid including a few things that would have been better left off. That goes for the linked double bill, a rather quirky and, for BJH, atypical mix of blues, folk and country. “Poor Boy Blues” is a pretty bizarre cross between a blues ballad and country that simply doesn’t convince, while its follow-up “Mill Boys”, with its slightly tipsy chorus, is a rather odd pop/folk number that you probably need to take with a healthy dose of humor. Taken that way, it can even be fun. According to John, both pieces are dedicated to rural cotton mills, which easily puts them alongside Jethro Tull among those “folksy” bands steeped in an antiquarian spirit. Despite my complaints, the closing epic symphonic treat “For No One”, yet another BJH anti-war classic, where their symphonic prog side finally comes to the fore, wraps up the album in magnificent fashion and still sends shivers down your spine to this day, even though the version on their first live album “BJH Live” (1974) is even better. Woolly’s majestic mellotron and piano arrangements truly breathe here for the first time on the album, while John serves up some of the most subtle solos of his career. A superb multi-part chorus, which also delivers the album’s enigmatic title in the verse, makes sure it ends the way it began: with an awakening, anti-war anthem.
“Everyone Is Everybody Else” definitely ranks among their best albums, but unlike “Once Again” (1971), which became a sort of quality yardstick for everything they made afterward, I wouldn’t put it among those rock classics that no decent music collection can be without. If it weren’t for that needless blues experiment, and if Woolly’s contribution had been at least a little less cut back, I’d have no reservations about calling it a classic. I recommend it as one of the cornerstones for anyone getting to know the band, since it’s an excellent indicator of their great diversity and contains plenty of stylistic variations plus quite a few of their classics. “Everyone Is Everybody Else” is an album that still holds a special place in the hearts of many of the band’s fans, and one with which the band very successfully weathered the first major storm of their career, so that they could eventually reach for the stars.
Lineup
John Lees – vocals, guitar
Woolly Wolstenholme – keyboards, backing vocals
Les Holroyd – vocals, bass guitar, guitar
Mel Pritchard – drums, percussion, backing vocals
Production
Roger Bain
Track list
1. Child Of The Universe
2. Negative Earth
3. Paper Wings
4. Great 1974 Mining Disaster
5. Crazy City
6. See Me See You
7. Poor Boy Blues
8. Mill Boys
9. For No One
Album length: 38.56
BONUS TRACKS FROM THE 2003 REMASTERED REISSUE
10. Child Of The Universe
11. Great 1974 Mining Disaster
12. Maestoso (A Hymn In The Roof Of The World)
13. Negative Earth
14. Child Of The Universe
