Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Van Der Graaf Generator
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1970
Rating: 4.5/5
Van Der Graaf Generator are a band that still stirs up the spirits today with their visionary albums, packed with complex progressive rock anthems that offer a lyrical glimpse into the complexities of the human soul and contain plenty of gloomy visions of the near future. Apart from King Crimson, the main torchbearers who lit the fire of a new chapter in the history of popular music, there was (yet) no progressive rock band at the time that could measure up to these worshippers of electrical conductors, physics and metaphysics, a band whose unusual, uncompromising blend of rock, jazz and classical music properly shocked the music community of the day, which was still picking itself up from the collapse of the hippie illusions about “peace and love” and was beginning to wake up to the gray everyday grind and a near future under the iron fist of “Big Brother”. Van Der Graaf Generator’s music and lyrics were accordingly often brutal, cynical, futuristic and apocalyptic. One critic once said that the devil would probably make pretty similar music if he had a band of his own. With that, the “generators” became one of the main heralds of a new era in popular music and, practically speaking, got ahead of coming musical trends by at least a decade, which is one of the main reasons the band is respected today not only by plenty of prog rock fans but also by lovers of such extreme genres as metal and punk.
But back then, before their second album came out, sarcastically titled “The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other”, hardly anyone probably expected they’d ever come back at all (which, over the years, became something of a tradition for them). After the release of their rather psychedelic-tinged debut “The Aerosol Grey Machine” (1969), originally conceived as a solo album by Peter Hammill, the singer and main writer of music and lyrics, came their second breakup since forming, and they came within a hair of staying buried forever in the sea of obscurity. The guys got lucky, though: they signed a deal with Tony Stratton-Smith, boss of the Charisma label and a great patron of progressive rock (his “protégés” included Genesis, Lindisfarne and String Driven Thing, among others), which motivated them enough to return in a somewhat reshaped lineup and with a considerably different sound. Their rise from psychedelic experimentalists to one of the great powers of progressive rock started right on this album, which would define their sound for years to come.
The brilliant Peter Hammill, with his utterly unique and peculiar voice, is the main factor that usually decides whether a listener ends up liking the band or not. With his poetic way of singing, often outside of melodic tonality, and countless swings between highs and lows, or rather the epic and the brutal, he established himself as one of the best singers and lyricists in progressive rock, and he occasionally picked up an acoustic guitar too (while it took him several more years to get used to the electric one). One of the big peculiarities of VDGG’s music is that they leave very little room for guitar, which is mostly replaced by the saxophone of David Jackson, for whom this was the first album with the band. Jackson instantly became one of the key elements of their utterly unique sound. The original bassist Keith Ellis was replaced by Nic Potter, who also handles the little bit of electric guitar found on some parts. Nic’s stint in the band would be just as short, since VDGG would soon swap the bass guitar for a bass pedal on Hugh Banton’s keyboards. Banton, with his wizardry on the Mellotron and Hammond organ, is often the chief guardian of the contrast between “light” and “dark” in their music. And let’s not overlook the excellent jazz drummer Guy Evans either, the only band member who worked with Peter on every single VDGG album. Most of Peter’s poetry is a sarcastic critique of the senselessness of wars, the abuse of technological progress, and eternal human delusions and yearnings for the unknown.
The band’s new look comes alive already on the opening masterpiece “Darkness (11/11)”, the first of Peter’s many visions of a dark future, or imminent apocalypse (good thing the date in the brackets isn’t 9/11, or they’d probably ban the album from sale in America right about now). It all starts out very mysterious and gloomy, with wind sounds on the keyboards, before an ominous build-up on piano and percussion kicks in, only ramping up the tension. Eventually Peter’s dramatic vocals crash in, joined by a great saxophone passage, creating a dramatic, epic harmony. Peter sometimes pushes his voice to the absolute limit and sounds completely unhinged, almost evil. Then a great instrumental section bursts in, with layers of keyboards, saxophone and piano piling up and adding to the feeling of total chaos and destruction. Jackson’s sax, joined in the backing by a trumpet and hellish drum fills, adds a special kind of atmosphere, as if some crazed terrorist were dancing amid the ruins of a burned-out wreck.
VDGG sail between enchanting beauty and raw brutality with incredible instinct the whole time. That’s also proven by the esoteric-utopian symphonic epic “Refugees”, which shows the gentler side of the band, letting a ray of light fall into the gloomy future. Indescribable melancholy and epic grandeur blend all the way through, created by the incredible harmony between keyboards, flute and the gorgeous tone of Peter’s voice, which sits in its highest register this time. Banton lays down a lovely bed on clavinet and Mellotron in between. In the middle section comes an excellent jazzy drum passage, followed by a triumphant and melancholic main chorus, where Hammond organ, Mellotron and saxophone ring out in one breath alongside the vocals. VDGG find themselves in their most romantic moment. Eventually Peter’s voice is joined by gorgeous epic choral harmonies radiating incredible melancholy and a longing for freedom. Surely one of their most beautiful songs, with lyrics that are also Peter’s critique of all totalitarian regimes. Few singers are able to conjure up so many different emotions in a single track.
“White Hammer”, which tells of the Inquisition and the witch hunts, is another VDGG classic. It’s announced by the drone of Hammond organ before Peter’s brutal vocals usher us into a chilling atmosphere. The individual passages keep swinging between calm and energetic, with truly hellish cataclysms erupting between the saxophone and the rhythm. It’s a composition of countless contrasts. On one side there’s lofty epicness, on the other brutal jazzy outbursts, their drama amplified by a layer of Mellotron and Peter’s almost manic vocals. The drum fills and a few distorted guitar bits, combined with saxophone and keyboards, sound unbelievably heavy for their time. The final part builds a properly spine-chilling (and utterly convincing) mood, almost like something out of a psychedelic horror flick, brought on by a lengthy jazz improvisation. In its sense of chaos and total darkness, it can even rival a masterpiece like King Crimson’s “Devil’s Triangle”.
“Whatever Would Robert Have Said”, dedicated to Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the Manhattan Project, with lyrics dealing with the looming threat of total nuclear annihilation of humanity, is another highly complex, apocalyptic-hellish delicacy. After a relatively innocent intro on keyboards, which eventually gain drum fills and a menacing saxophone, a downright shamanic rhythm kicks in, quickly calmed by Peter’s vocals (which are purely narrative at the start). In the background you can also hear some deliberately out-of-tune electric guitar from Potter, joined in contrast by a bit of Peter’s acoustic guitar, more as soothing sonic decoration than anything else. The main, deranged saxophone motif alongside the manic vocals really sounds like Mephistopheles himself dreamed it up. Suddenly an interesting jazz improvisation arrives, growing into a proper battle between the instruments, especially the electric guitar, saxophone and keyboards. Despite the occasional acoustic interruptions, it never fully settles down, and its ending turns out downright cataclysmic.
The band’s brighter side comes back to life on the dreamy ballad “Out Of My Book”, dominated by a romantic motif on David’s flute and Peter’s acoustic guitar. It’s all led by a calm, poetic vocal that’s not even slightly like the brutality that ruled his previous piece. Hugh’s layers of keyboards are likewise laid down with exceptional feeling. Of everything on the album, this one is the least like the new VDGG look and the closest to their psychedelic past. The main folk-rock-flavored motif on acoustic guitar, flute and layered vocals will enchant everyone who claims the band made a deal with the devil, and carry them off to cloud nine. Personally, I absolutely love this contrast between light and darkness that these “soothing” pieces bring into their music.
The closing masterpiece “After The Flood”, where a thick bass line, ominous keyboards and acoustic guitar usher us into the final epilogue of human delusion and mockery of the natural balance, is yet another piece that takes your breath away with its unpredictable and complex nature. Peter is once again in that vocal element of his, where you never know when the epic will give way to the brutal. The opening tempo is fairly calm until a hellish march on drums and a possessed, booming Hammond organ come in. Thunder can occasionally be heard in the background. The epic central motif, accompanied by cynical vocals singing of the final apocalypse and the cleansing of the world from the yoke of human filth through a “universal deluge”, may even be aiming at the fall of Atlantis. The hellish flashes continue through passages on saxophone, bass and booming organ, forming a high symphonic sound mixed with morsels of obscure jazz. In the second part comes an exceptionally tasteful jazz improvisation, where David’s flute solo shines. After that the pessimistic main chorus returns once more, with saxophones, organ and Peter’s sarcastic vocals blaring triumphantly. Then comes another nightmarish instrumental cataclysm, ending in a true flood, represented by an acoustic guitar passage, rattling bass and an intrusion of deliberately robotized vocals (kind of in the style of the King Crimson classic “21 Century Schizoid Man”), which introduces the final robotization of all living things, or the birth of the Matrix. Right at the end, that main epic motif returns one more time, marking the end of the future for humanity. Hardly an optimistic way to close an album, but to be honest, expecting anything else from VDGG would be almost utopian.
With “The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other”, VDGG created the first of their many classic albums, a true masterpiece of early progressive rock. And although they hadn’t yet reached the incredible level of maturity they would hit with the next album, it’s a stunning achievement, way ahead of its time, that still doesn’t stop wowing people with its dark visionary streak. At the same time, the album marks the crucial moment when VDGG defined their signature sound and hit a key stage of their development, as it was a huge leap forward from their relatively average debut. VDGG instantly became one of the main and most exciting powers in the development of early progressive rock. Even though most of their music was far from instantly accessible, after this album they started gathering a legion of extremely loyal fans who knew how to appreciate their advanced visions. “The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other” is one of those albums that were, in a way, at least ten years ahead of their time. Hammill would push the band to the very limits of its abilities the following year, and with the next two masterpieces VDGG would write themselves into immortality for good.
Lineup
Peter Hammill – vocals, acoustic guitar
Nic Potter – bass guitar, electric guitar
Hugh Banton – organ, piano, backing vocals
Guy Evans – drums and percussion
David Jackson – saxophone, flute, backing vocals
GUEST MUSICIANS:
Gerry Salisbury – cornet on “White Hammer”
Mike Hurwitz – cello on “Refugees”
Production
John Anthony
Track List
1. Darkness (11/11) (7:27)
2. Refugees (6:22)
3. White Hammer (8:15)
4. Whatever Would Robert Have Said? (6:17)
5. Out Of My Book (4:07)
6. After The Flood (11:28)
Album length: 43:56
Bonus tracks from the 2005 reissue:
7. Boat of millions of years (3:50)
8. Refugees (single version) (5:24)
