Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Saga
Label: SPV Records
Release: 1995
Rating: 5/5
Canadian art rock icons Saga delivered yet another huge shock to their listeners with the concept album “Generation 13” when it came out . This time, thankfully, in a good way. After the painfully pale “Steel Umbrellas” (1994), a totally misfired pop rock movie-soundtrack experiment made purely out of a desire for quick cash, it seemed like they’d have a hell of a time winning back their longtime followers and would, at best, sink into a sea of musical mediocrity. But then came another very rare and almost unbelievable artistic about-face, one no fan could have predicted even in their wildest dreams: with “Generation 13”, Saga created their most ambitious album, one that as a whole comes musically closer to progressive rock than anything else on their path up to that point, and on top of that comes with an interesting, socially critical concept. Even those who had believed all along in their limitless potential in the progressive rock arena were taken aback, both musically and conceptually.
At first glance, the concept of “Generation 13” is pretty similar to the one in The Who classic “Quadrophenia”. It revolves around a little boy, Jeremy, who sets out in a hostile environment to find his real father. Along the way he runs into plenty of more or less unpleasant encounters, among them the delinquent street brat Sam, and he often wonders about the meaning of his mission. Besides this story, the album draws inspiration from a problem that’s still topical today (and even far more so than back then): the general breakdown of society, potentially brought on by future “deluded” generations with no future, infected with “gigabytes” of (needless) information and consumerism, spending most of their time in the asocial environments bred by our modern hyper-consumerist society. The consequences of this decadence are emotional numbness, endless egomania and, as the logical result of such an attitude to life, the inevitable ecological catastrophe. These kinds of socially critical concepts are pretty popular today, usually to the point of tasteless banality, but in 1995 Saga, with their warnings about ecological problems and alienation (back when the internet hadn’t yet spread so far), were noticeably ahead of their time, even though I don’t think the role of “social awakeners” suits them all that well, and in the future they’d rather wrap their lyrical barbs in science-fiction metaphors. Those mocking barbs show up in most of the lyrics, which this time are some of the best of their career. Who would’ve dared believe Saga could make something this deep after the shallow movie fiasco? Probably not even they themselves.
Musically, this is one of their strongest albums, and in my view the closest they ever got to classic progressive rock (in terms of the whole album, not just a few tracks). This time Saga don’t skimp at all on unusual time changes, complex instrumental sections, dramatic vocals, solos, varied rhythms and even splendid orchestral arrangements. The latter were recorded with conductor Richard Baker and The Panorama City Philharmonic Orchestra. At the same time, they’d never sounded so punchy before. Some tracks have a really raw sound (at times bordering on progressive metal), mostly thanks to the many distorted guitar passages and the bristling rhythm line. Some of the credit for that dirty sound surely goes to the excellent, modern production by bassist Jim Crichton, who successfully and definitively pushed the band back into the ’90s after the nightmare of the previous, retro-minded album. Singer Michael Sadler delivered one of the best vocal performances of his career on this record. Especially on the calmer parts, where he identifies with the main character of the concept with all his heart, he deserves the deepest congratulations. On top of that, this time he also took up the organ, which brings something new to their sound and gives certain parts even more breadth.
The other members proved too that their vision of Saga as a progressive rock band never faded, despite one failed experiment. Keyboardist Jim Gilmour once again surprises with a rich palette of keyboard textures and, for the first time in ages, also shows off some superb solos. Ian Crichton is, as usual, excellent on his electric guitar (one of the few members who truly never lets you down), moving nicely from distorted punchiness (where he can sound like some hard rock/metal virtuoso) to refined sensitivity. His brother Jim on bass and drummer Steve Negus made the rhythm section this time one of the best in their history, when it comes to the combination of variety and punch.
As for that punch, Saga came a lot closer this time to their Canadian art rock peers Rush, and in places even to the legacy of early Kansas (especially in the more symphonic moments). Even though most of the material on the album is progressive rock, one moment symphonic, the next of a heavier caliber, all the songs on it are fairly short (the longest runs a little over five minutes). In between there are also a few very short ones (around a minute or less), usually acoustic or piano-based “breathers”, which thankfully aren’t pointless filler like they usually are in cases like this. The songs flow one into the other, as is quite common with concept albums. The album is exceptionally varied (and this is where I think they probably hit the peak of their career), the concept keeps breathing through the pieces the whole time, and it works brilliantly as a whole. There’s no shortage of excellent symphonic stuff where the orchestra takes the lead, nor of dreamy jazzy moments. There isn’t a single ounce of pop on it, which, after the overdose of saccharine on its predecessor, was more than welcome. The mood of the album is by far the darkest in the band’s history up to then, which fits the socially critical concept perfectly, along with music that effortlessly shakes the listener from head to toe.
The opening “Chances Are # 1” is a gorgeous, gentle piano melody accompanied by Michael’s romantic vocals. It comes back again at the close of the album. Next comes an excellent prog rock catalyst, the instrumental “Generation 13 (Theme #1), kicked off by effects, the muffled speech of some political demagogue and heavy distortion. Then comes a hard-hitting, marching rhythm and raw riffing, which together sound pretty metal, until a great transition kicks in and the orchestra brings in tasteful baroque arrangements that carry the song into symphonic prog waters. “All Will Change (Goodbye And Good Luck)” calms the mood again with a gentle piano melody and dramatic vocals that tell the story of a little boy lost in a hostile world with real conviction. Then comes the second section, called “The Cross (Home #3), one of the best pieces on the album and, in my view, a genuine Saga classic, which beautifully ushers us into the band’s modern, punchier, symphonic and mystical side. Michael’s mysterious vocals are threaded through a refined rhythm, ambient keyboards and a witty guitar riff. Soon a punchy transition kicks in, along with a dramatic chorus and a string of hard-hitting guitar passages and dynamic drums. A song that would become a yardstick of quality for their future compositions too.
“Danger Whistle”, which has a creepy intro with children’s whispering, flows into the acoustic section “Leave Them Alone”, which sounds quite oriental, with Ian’s acoustic guitar sounding almost like a sitar. After a transition comes a dramatic, pretty dark section over a branching rhythm and ambient keyboard curtains. “I’ll Never Be Like You #1” has church organ and penitent vocals. “My Name Is Sam (Finding a Friend)” is the short moment in the story where Jeremy meets a new friend, the delinquent and spoiled brat Sam. It’s laid over a brattish funky rhythm, which returns several times whenever the parts featuring Sam’s personality are introduced. Next comes the dramatically cranked “The 13th Generation”, another of the album’s central pieces, full of grotesque sounds, unusual time changes and the obligatory dramatic chorus that sends an ice-cold shiver down your spine. The guitar passages are wound up to the max, there’s no shortage of virtuoso solos, and the rhythmic dynamics are at an enviable level. In my view, one of their punchiest pieces ever.
“The Cross” is another pretty dark lament on piano and ambient curtains, where Sadler’s vocals are full of pain and despair as he asks himself philosophical questions about his lost father. The extremely dynamic “The Learning Tree” is a real treat and another strong candidate for a Saga classic. The dark mood changes completely here, thanks to the funky line of Jim’s bass guitar and refined guitar passages. Michael switches his vocal expression with incredible effectiveness between moments of rage and epic grandeur, convincingly playing the furious little boy when the conflict between Jeremy and Sam erupts. The time changes are wildly varied, there’s no shortage of instrumental breaks, while the rock potency lasts from start to finish. A real art rock school in miniature. “I’ll Never Be Like You (Once Again)” is one of the most beautiful symphonic moments on the album, with Michael’s vocal expression reaching new heights. The gorgeous orchestral arrangements intertwine very effectively with his heart-wrenching performance. In my view, the symphonic peak of their career and the furthest they ever got in bringing elements of classical music into their sound. You just can’t believe that a year earlier they were churning out saccharine pop for a second-rate TV action series.
On “Snake Oil” they show, for the first time in a long while, that among other things they also have a singular flair for theatricality. The intro has circus music, that well-known daredevil clown motif, which sounds like it came out of a nightmare. A booming layer of church organ joins in, followed by a creepy drum buildup, horrifying sound effects and a dialogue between Sam and his psychiatrist. Sam occasionally sounds like some Bart Simpson who’s just about to pull something truly nasty. In the second section, “We Hope You’re Feeling Better”, an epic and melodic chorus kicks in with excellent harmony vocals, bringing an incredible contrast to the otherwise schizophrenic mood of the composition. There’s also a wonderful, spacey guitar solo that fits superbly over the layer of church organ and hard-hitting drums. The song switches very effectively between dark and uplifting moods.
“My Name Is Sam (Your Time Is Up)” is another very interesting experiment, featuring a distorted vocal effect (escalating from “rapping” to a final bestial screaming) and an occasional, deliberately almost rap-like rhythm. The second part brings an excellent jazz-funk instrumental section with plenty of unusual rhythmic transitions and effects. It represents the moment when Sam’s mental film finally snaps. “Generation 13 (Theme #2)” is another rather morbid instrumental, with distortion run through some sort of compressor, sound curtains and the talking of some demagogue leader. This is followed by a raging, pretty metal-flavored rhythmic appetizer (bouncing drums) through which Ian’s furious riffing grinds. The contrast when the emotional, balladesque intro of “Where Are You Now?” arrives, which at times sounds like film music from some gothic Tim Burton flick, couldn’t be bigger.
But already in the second section of “Screw ‘Em” comes some of the dirtiest and most cranked-up stuff they’d made up to that point. The bristling riffing, raging drums and booming layer of organ are followed by a transition with a short part that, thanks to the vocal narration and rhythm, feels pretty rap-like. Of course, that doesn’t last long, and a breathtaking, orgasmic guitar solo follows. A keyboard solo joins it, and then the keys weave nicely back together with the guitar and rhythm. Michael once again sounds like some street brat at times. The time changes are wildly lively and make up yet another of the album’s progressive rock highlights. The extremely romantic and dreamy, slightly jazz-tinged ballad “No Strings Attached” is pure fairy tale and some of the most beautiful and mature stuff I’ve ever heard from this band. The song is packed with a wonderful midnight atmosphere, dreamy orchestral arrangements (the woodwinds, or rather the clarinet, are especially impressive, giving it a jazzy touch), sensitive guitar passages, fine sound curtains and heart-wrenching yet dreamy singing. Ian treats himself now and then to some avant-garde guitar embellishments, while the harmony-vocal chorus is a total triumph that hypnotizes the listener and carries them off to some other galaxy. The composition even has some of the atmosphere and elements that recall King Crimson (the ’80s incarnation) and their classic “Matte Kudasai”, which says more than anything about how far they managed to climb this time. Definitely one of the three best creations on the album.
“All Will Change (It’s Happening To Me)” is a reprise of the light piano theme from the start of the album, except that this time the vocals are much more “cooked up”, as the main character has become aware of his inner changes. “The Victim” has a mighty symphonic layer of organ, over which a transition suddenly kicks in with that classic Saga motif, where layers of keyboards and sharpened guitar passages alternate over a melodic yet witty vocal performance, all of it accompanied by outstanding rhythmic dynamics. “One Small Step”, split into two sections, again features superb orchestral arrangements and the voice of little bastard Sam (who at times comes across as downright obnoxious) in the first section, called “Sam’s New Friend”. The symphonic arrangements, through which sensitive guitar passages break, once again sound like they’re from some gothic film. After the creepy atmosphere comes the section “We Hope You’re Feeling Better”, where the album’s main motif returns once more, shifting between raging, fully distorted hard rock/metal-tinged passages and wound-up orchestral arrangements. And at the end, that triumphant, uplifting chorus of “We Hope You’re Feeling Better” returns once more, sounding like a proper hymn-like anthem. The big dramatic finale totally nails it. “Changes Are #2” closes the album the way it began – with melancholic vocals and gentle piano accompaniment. And so ends the band’s most accomplished work up to that point (if not their best outright).
Saga had proven many times in their career up to then that they’re capable of extraordinary artistic feats when they want to, and when it’s not about the logic of money but about the desire to explore new artistic aspects. But that they’re capable of musical miracles too, only this phenomenal concept album proved. “Generation 13” is one of the best achievements in their history, comparable to their early albums, a pure art rock masterpiece and an incredible comeback that surpassed the wildest dreams of their followers. At the same time, it’s a big slap in the face for everyone who had long since written them off as a progressive rock band and took them more as some pop rock/AOR outfit aimed at radio hits. With “Generation 13”, Saga created a dazzling progressive rock gem that still surprises today with its expressive power and modern sound, and proves that the band rightfully belongs among the most important representatives of its genre. Neither before nor after did they sound so progressive, and I think this is one of the few albums where they also gave their art rock peers Rush a good lesson, since Rush had long since grown tired of progressive rock concepts and (very successfully, mind you) returned to their hard rock roots. Sadly, though, Saga didn’t know how to nurture this achievement properly and build a successor on it, because then some baffling urge bit them again, to serve their fans cream cake from the bosom of a lovely young girl, followed by pig’s bile from the hands of a withered old crone. In the ’90s Saga became true chameleons of art rock, you could say they raced at breakneck speed into different sonic extremes, from great highs to unbelievable lows, and being their fan surely wasn’t always easy. Would you believe that after their artistic peak as a prog or art rock band, they’d hit nothing but the bottom of their career with the next album? That had to happen too, so that another great musical rebirth could follow, from caterpillar to butterfly, and this time, thankfully, the final one.
Lineup
Michael Sadler – vocals, organ
Ian Crichton – guitar
Jim Crichton – bass guitar
Jim Gilmour – keyboards, clarinet, backing vocals
Steve Negus – drums, percussion
GUEST MUSICIANS:
Mary Newland – backing vocals (17)
Richard barker & The Panorama City Philharmonic
Production
Jim Crichton
Tracklist
1. Chances Are #1
2. Generation 13 (Theme #1)
3. All Will Change
a) The Cross (Home #3)
4. Danger Whistle
a) Leave Her Alone
5. I’ll Never Be Like You
a) My Name Is Sam
6. The 13th Generation
7. The Cross
8. The Learning Tree
9. I’ll Never Be Like You (Once Again)
10. Snake Oil
a) We Hope You’re Feeling Better
11. My Name Is Sam (Your Time is Up)
12. Generation 13 (Theme #2)
13. Where Are You Now?
a) Screw’em
14. No Strings Attached
15. All Will Change
16. The Victim
17. One Small Step
a) Sam’s New Friend
b) We Hope You’re Feeling Better
18. Chances Are #2
Album length: 68:50
