Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Procol Harum
Label: Chrysalis Records
Released: 1973
Running time: 41:09
Rating: 4/5
»Grand Hotel«, the sixth studio album from the legendary British prog-rock pioneers Procol Harum, was a herald of ‘new times’: a noticeable shift in the approach of these masters of fusing rock and symphonic music, who had carved themselves into the hearts of music gourmets forever with evergreens like »A Whiter Shade of Pale, »Shine On Brightly«, »A Salty Dog« and »Homburg«. Guitarist Dave Ball, who had played on their first live album, »Procol Harum Live in Concert with the Symphony Orchestra« in 1972, had been replaced by Mick Grabham by this point. Ball left just as the band was getting photographed for the »Grand Hotel« cover, so Ball’s head is in the photo, but not his body: it was ‘cut off’ and swapped for Grabham’s.
Despite swapping out two guitarists in short order and picking up a new bassist in Alan Cartwright, Procol Harum entered the most stable phase of their career, at least as far as the solidity of the lineup goes, a period in which they finally ditched all the psychedelic and many of the blues elements of their past. Even though »Grand Hotel« looks like a concept album at first glance, as do most of the lyrics, which deal with growing social stratification, lyricist Keith Reid says the story, or rather the satire about the snobbish life of the social ‘elite’ in an expensive hotel, doesn’t go beyond the title track. Reid’s lyrics are once again a chapter of their own, full of sharp social satire and often typically English black humor, which was without question a blessing of a very special kind throughout Procol Harum’s entire history.
The central ‘star’ and co-chief of the band, mustachioed singer and pianist Gary Brooker, who today is, along with Reid, the only original Procol Harum member left, is, as expected, the main driving force behind the individual compositions on »Grand Hotel«, with his almost proverbial vocal charisma and subtle, often melodramatic piano arrangements, faithfully complemented by shimmering organ ‘wallpapers’ courtesy of Chris Copping. Guitarist Grabham deserves a mention too: in his solos he loyally carries on the blues tradition of the original Procol Harum guitarist, the legendary Robin Trower, even if his style is noticeably less refined and innovative, and he’s also been given a bit less room for improvising and soloing.
The title track, a perfect burlesque of the snobbish, heartless English social cream, who squander ill-gotten money, grabbed off the backs of the poor, in the casino of the Ritz hotel amid rivers of champagne, opens with a wary piano intro, then on the wings of luxurious organ arrangements spills over into a proper symphonic-rock orgy, with no shortage of dramatic orchestral sections, choral orchestral harmonies and even mocking dance rhythms on the piano. Brooker’s melancholic vocal approach is suitably full of bitter cynicism, while Grabham’s melodic guitar passages add some of the expected epic feel to the all-around symphonic splendor. The remaining songs on the album are all shorter than six minutes, but they pack enough complex elements and sudden rhythmic turns to come across as interesting even to ‘somewhat more demanding listeners’.
»Tojours l’amour«, a mischievous satire about an unfaithful woman, features a playful organ melody and juicy guitar improvisations, while Brooker once again turns into a sarcastic ‘comedian’ vocally, so that together they turn a seemingly simple little tune into a thoroughly contrasting sonic merry-go-round. »A Rum Tale« is a ballad laid over a subtle piano-and-organ melody, whose nostalgic mood and lyrics about voyages to faraway places recall the ‘good old’ sailors’ yarns Reid spun in his day on the unforgettable classic »A Salty Dog«. »T.V. Caesar«, yet another social burlesque, this time with lyrics about TV addiction, brings pompous symphonic arrangements, intelligently timed drum transitions and another splendid, deeply felt vocal performance from Brooker. Bradford’s cunning guitar improvisation adds extra spice to the mocking and (thanks to the orchestrally tinged passages) majestic mood.
On »A Souvenir of London«, a social satire with cheeky acoustic-guitar chords and slick organ textures, Brooker is especially biting vocally. Procol Harum, who never skimped on bitter lyrics aimed at their stuffy English countrymen, hail from Essex, by the way, a county that falls under the northeastern London area. The same goes for the pretty punchy and rowdy »Bringing Home the Bacon«, where gloomy organ passages recall classical music from some horror flick while an uncompromising rhythm is driven mainly by sharp guitar phrases: Brooker and Reid (as the lyricist) can’t help but ‘say’ a word or two, in their mocking way, about poverty and the harsh social divides that were already eating away at their homeland back then.
On the melodramatic standard »For Liquorice John«, a social satire on alcoholism, another (and not only) typically British societal problem, the band suddenly gets deadly serious, Copping’s mighty organ passages take center stage, and Brooker’s heart-wrenching vocal performance is no less impressive. The strangest and in many ways most interesting experiment on the album, though, is without a doubt the sacred-tinged ballad »Fires (Which Burn Brightly)«, where Brooker is superbly complemented by female choral vocal harmonies from the (sadly now late) guest French singer Christiane Legrand. With her soprano she creates a tasteful contrast between the male and female vocal harmonies, while both singers are dramatically accompanied by sacred-flavored organ arrangements.
To close the album, Procol Harum turn back into a pack of incorrigible jokers on »Robert’s Box«, yet another burlesque. The lyrics are of course not about King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp, but about a similar, if not the same, enigmatic ‘doctor’, ‘Dr. Robert’, whom the Beatles had already playfully taken on in their day in the song of the same name on the album »Revolver« (1966), because he supplied the famous and rich with new drugs like amphetamines. Procol Harum take a jab at this ‘doctor’s’ ‘magic box’, whose identity was never revealed, and at his customer, the addict who shows up for a new dose, all through mighty orchestral arrangements, and right at the very end they even take this burlesque into epic waters for a short while.
When it comes to lavish orchestral arrangements and the sheer effectiveness of skewering English society, »Grand Hotel« is still one of Procol Harum’s finest achievements, and also one of their last where you can still talk about creative brilliance from every single member of the band. In the middle of an era when prog rock was enjoying its greatest artistic and commercial boom, these genre pioneers successfully kept pace with the best acts of the time and, thanks to ever deeper orchestration, left their psychedelic and blues-tinged early years behind for good. Procol Harum simply didn’t want to remain eternal ‘prisoners of the past’, even though the late sixties were the time when they enjoyed their greatest popularity and recognition.
Lineup
Gary Brooker – vocals, piano, orchestration
Chris Copping – organ
Mick Grabham – guitar
Alan Cartwright – bass guitar
Barrie James Wilson – drums
Keith Reid – lyrics
GUEST SINGER:
Christiane Legrand – soprano vocals
Production
Chris Thomas
Track list
1. Grand Hotel (6:10)
2. Toujours l’Amour (3:31)
3. A Rum Tale (3:20)
4. T.V. Ceasar (5:52)
5. A Souvenir of London (3:23)
6. Bringing Home The Bacon (4:21)
7. For Liquorice John (4:27)
8. Fires (Which Burn Brightly) (5:10)
9. Robert’s Box (4:45)
