Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Eloy
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1977
Rating: 5/5
“Ocean”, a concept album about the rise and fall of mythological Atlantis, was the greatest triumph of the career of the legendary German space rockers Eloy, both artistically and commercially. As for the latter, it’s telling enough that when “Ocean” came out, the band hit higher chart positions in their home country of Germany than the then-current releases from Genesis, Pink Floyd or Queen. Frank Bornemann, the guitarist and singer who was also the band’s central musician, never dreamed that after the release of the excellent “Dawn” (1976), the album that, with the help of a symphony orchestra, had launched them among the best progressive heavyweights in the world, his band would achieve such success with its next record. Frank’s ambitious vision of turning the band into a progressive superpower on a worldwide scale was finally fully vindicated. Anyone who wants to hear Eloy in all their symphonic space rock grandeur need look no further than “Ocean”, the brightest star in the Eloy constellation.
As already mentioned, the concept of “Ocean” is built on the story of the rise and fall of the legendary civilization of Atlantis, which has been stirring the human imagination since ancient times and giving all the “serious” historians gray hairs. The story of a paradise land, yet one doomed to destruction, begins when Poseidon creates the mythological continent out of the water and settles humankind on it. For decades afterward, the people faithfully worshipped him, mostly out of gratitude for their cultural, material and spiritual progress. This paradise lasted until (as usually happens) arrogance got the better of them and they wanted to rival the gods in knowledge and power. To that end, they began to neglect spirituality more and more and to pour all their energy into the development of science and technology. They reached the peak of technological progress and empiricism by founding the city of computers, Logos, with which they hoped to reach the heavenly level of their teachers. They decided to create a new race of gods that would replace the old ones. But the artificial intelligence project collapsed, and the computers began to take over and control the lives of the inhabitants more and more, who in turn grew ever emptier, greedier and more materialistic. The enraged gods, led by Poseidon, decided to destroy ungrateful and decadent humankind forever with floods, and Atlantis vanished with its people into the depths of the sea for good. It’s a story that has appeared in various versions throughout history (most often in those about the “great flood”) and one that will keep stirring minds for as long as there are civilizations that consider themselves advanced, even though most of them, with their politics, are (once again?) pushing humanity toward the abyss with particular zeal. True to the concept, the mood of the album is noticeably darker than that of their earlier work. You can feel a cold, oceanic chill the whole way through, along with a futuristic vision of a cybernetic future in which artificial intelligence has taken primacy over human existence, and it all blows in mainly from the symphonic nature of the individual arrangements.
Musically, this is an album that combines complex symphonic arrangements with space rock ambient curtains in the best possible way. The orchestra that played on “Dawn” proved to be an expensive affair, so the band had to give it up, which made them lean back toward a space rock ambient direction, sonically bringing them closer to Pink Floyd than, say, Yes. The band’s sound became even more refined and clean, while the obscure improvisations had by now become a thing of the past. Keyboardist Detlef Schmidchten successfully made up for the absence of the orchestra by using a lot more atmospheric curtains, which sit noticeably up front on this album relative to Frank’s guitar, something that hadn’t always been the norm until then. These mystical keyboard textures often weave beautifully with Frank’s guitar passages into an almost inseparable sonic whole. By this stage of his career, Frank’s guitar approach had become noticeably softer and subtler, and the punchier heavy rock moves here are more or less incidental. Most of the lyrics this time were written by none other than drummer Jürgen Rosenthal. In the tradition of German prog rock bands that didn’t have lyrical geniuses like Peter Gabriel or Peter Hammill, they weren’t exactly brilliant, but for presenting the individual parts of the concept to the average layperson who doesn’t dive into science fiction or metaphysics, they were perfectly decent. Frank’s recognizable vocals, soaked in a German accent, are, as on most of their albums, a matter of personal taste, and in my view they don’t detract in the slightest from the album’s otherwise excellent quality. Although there are only four compositions on the album, all of them are of epic length.
“Poseidon’s Creation” is a dramatic intro that fits its title, steeped in delicate layers of ambient keyboards, which are joined, after the first transition to the sound of Hammond organs, by plenty of drum fills, melodic bass and fiery guitar riffs. Frank’s “weeping” guitar passages inevitably bring to mind some of David Gilmour’s (Pink Floyd) moves. The mood is most intense when the guitar flows into dramatic textures of Hammond organ and Moog synthesizer. When Frank’s vocals come in (his German accent is especially pronounced in the choruses), multi-part symphonic textures start pouring through the composition against the building drive of Rosenthal’s drums, forming a majestic atmosphere. The sudden, excellent Moog synth attack with its distinctive sound, which later also played an important part in building the characteristic sonic image of neo-prog rock, and the delicately laid guitar passages make for a true symphonic fairy tale for every prog rock gourmet.
“Incarnation Of the Logos”, which opens with dramatic, ominous Mellotron curtains and a distant, almost whispering vocal, announces the moment in the concept when Atlantis finally seals its fate. This building, ambient swell, with a narration in between that includes the voice of a computer, goes on for quite a while before an excellent transition and a dreamy arrangement arrive, formed by the interplay of layered keyboards, guitar and Rosenthal’s bouncing, dynamic drums. The drums deserve all the credit and often draw on the signature moves of the much better-known Neil Peart (Rush). At one point, amid the symphonic arrangements and numerous fiery drum fills, an energetic vocal kicks in. A real melodic symphonic triumph.
After every peak comes the inevitable fall. “Decay Of the Logos”, which opens with the rattling bass of Klaus-Peter Matziol, Moog sounds and excellent cymbal work, takes the listener on a dramatic sonic journey through the tangled system of an artificial intelligence that has outgrown its original, humanitarian purpose and evolved into a threat to human existence. Between the individual rhythmic pauses you can also hear the sound of wind coming from beneath the synths. This builds up to the first transition, which moves the composition into noticeably more energetic waters, where fiery drum fills and mighty guitar passages reign and for a moment revive the band’s heavy rock roots. Frank’s vocals also sound noticeably more convincing when he’s expressing more dramatic emotions. The entrance of fine layers of synthesizers is truly masterfully done and fits perfectly with the superb drum combinations. A delicate guitar melody softens all this tremendous drama a little.
This is followed by the ambient, conceptual and compositional peak of the album, “Atlantis’ Agony At June 5th – 8498, 13 p.m. Gregorian Earthtime”, with its ominous (accurate?) date of the catastrophe that wiped a once-glorious civilization off the face of the world forever, one that sank because of human arrogance (don’t make me say twice that the same fate may one day await us too, which makes any concept about the tragedy of Atlantis all the more interesting and relevant today). After a dramatic narration containing the epilogue of the concept comes a longer ambient section with plenty of sound curtains on Mellotron and Mini Moog and numerous electronic sounds. In time, the dramatic sound of organs creeps in too, which only deepens the gloomy mood of the great catastrophe. Every so often the narrator’s voice chimes in. When the dramatic drum transitions kick in, a wonderful melodic motif is woven in together with vocal accompaniment. It all ends with building, rather chilling keyboard sounds that drift off into the distance. The biggest ambient experiment in their history came off brilliantly and is still a source of inspiration for many contemporary space rock bands today.
In my eyes, “Ocean” is the band’s best album and one of the best prog rock albums of the second half of the ’70s, one that deserves nothing but superlatives. The mystical atmosphere goes hand in hand with the mythological concept the whole way, and with its dramatic messages it successfully tickles the spiritual senses of listeners. The album’s production was definitely ahead of its time. Frank progressed not only as a guitarist but also as a producer. Eloy may not really have been among the main innovators in the history of progressive rock, and in their music you could always detect some influences from the more widely known progressive rock bands, but at the time they were certainly among the boldest and most ambitious. In an era when punk had already begun stretching out its muddy claws and had declared war on all the rock “dinosaurs”, they didn’t stop for a moment, turning out ambitious, mostly conceptual records one after another without glancing at the radio charts. All this, together with their successful, gradual use of new recording technologies and sounds, made Eloy one of the most resilient and respected bands of the golden age of progressive rock, while many of their role models meanwhile drifted to the edge of obscurity, into a complete change of sound, or simply sank into history. Many years later, in 1998 to be exact, Eloy recorded a sequel to this conceptual masterpiece that proved a worthy successor, but that’s a whole other story, to be told in another review.
Line-up
Frank Bornemann – vocals, guitar
Klaus-Peter Matziol – bass guitar, backing vocals
Detlef Schmidtchen – keyboards, Mellotron, xylophone, voice
Jürgen Rosenthal – drums, percussion, flute
GUEST MUSICIANS:
The Boys Of Santiago – choir (1)
Production
Frank Bornemann
Track list
1. Poseidon’s Creation (11:38)
2. Incarnation Of The Logos (8:25)
3. Decay Of The Logos (8:15)
4. Atlantis’ Agony At June 5th – 8498, 13 p.m. Gregorian Earthtime (15:35)
Total running time: 43:53
