A progressive rock masterpiece from start to end.

Until recently, my knowledge of Genesis did not expand past Duke, so I never knew them for being anything but a trio. Though I do enjoy the quality of their music. I've never been a huge fan of 80s synthesizer pop, but I still enjoy The Invisible Touch, due to the way Phil Collins, Tony Banks, and Mike Rutherford actually make synth-pop intelligent and engaging. But anyway, my point is that for the longest time, I never knew there was this other side to Genesis that reared its head between 1967 and 1975, a side that established the band as masters of progressive rock, and would serve as an inspiration to numerous bands in the late 70s and 80s.



This was the first album I bought from the "Peter Gabriel era," and at first it confused me. But now, after listening to it several times (as well as buying both 1971's Nursery Cryme and 1972's Foxtrot), I look upon it as an album worthy of standing alongside such progressive masterworks as Yes's Fragile, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, and Rush's 2112.



Although there are moments of brilliance on both Nursery Cryme and Foxtrot, I feel that the two albums suffered from bad production. The musicianship of the band members is excellent, but the production is only sub-par, which ultimately means that the two albums are not as good as they could be. Selling England by the Pound solves this problem. The band finally found a competant producer in John Burns (and the fact that band members themselves co-produced probably also counts for something). The sound is crisp, and not a single track is over or underscored when it shouldn't be. The four epic pieces on this album transition better than epic songs written by the band in the past, making for a downright entertaining experience for the listener. And the fact that every member of the group is in top form helps, as well.



Dancing With the Moonlit Knight is a beautiful opening track, starting simply with Peter Gabriel's vocals. Right off the bat, we can see that Peter Gabriel has matured in his penchant for role-playing. He shifts from the "uniform" to the "queen" to the "paperboy" without sounding like he's fumbling, while the hauntingly bardic melody of Steve Hackett's guitar slowly fades up underneath it. As the tale continues, we hear Phil Collins's drums begin to fade up as well, and then suddenly, in a rush, we are overwhelmed by the mellotron of Tony Banks, the explosive percussion of Collins, and the sudden shift in Gabriel's vocals from soft and low to edgy and raucous. The song moves through several phases, first allowing Hackett to display his expertise, and then the sudden bursts on the keyboard from Banks. But the transitions in the song or neither ugly or noticable, as on earlier epic songs such as The Musical Box. Finally, the last two minutes of the song are like the musical equivalent of a good wine: it must be listened to with the volume up to capture all the subtleties. We have the fanciful melody being played on the keyboard (underscored by what I think might be a 12-string from Hackett), while Gabriel's flute rises and falls and we hear the occasional jingle of low-key cymbals from Collins. It's absolutely gorgeous.



Moving right along, we have the shorter I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe), one of the few Gabriel-era songs to make it onto 1999's compilation album, Turn It On Again. Honestly, I wish this was one Genesis song the radio played more. It's easy to listen to, and it also provides a wonderful gateway into the band's more progressive period. The tale that accompanies the song is easy to relate to, and is really just a colorful way of saying that ignorance is bliss. Here, we have Gabriel assuming the role of a simple lawnmower named Jacob, who is content with his job and his place in life and just wishes that all the supporting characters would leave him alone ("I know what I like and I like what I know"). Gabriel's switching from character to character is more sudden than in the last song, but he still holds his breath well enough, especially during the long-winded second verse. It's catchy, but it's also got a higher degree of musicianship than the band's later singles (especially during the last half).



Firth of Fifth is simply a masterpiece, and probably as close as the band ever comes to channeling Yes (in fact, Tony Banks on the piano reminds of Rick Wakeman's work on Fragile). Each musician is in excellent form: the grand, sweeping poetry of Gabriel's lyrics, the almost-classical tone to Banks's keyboards, the soft but striking notes of Rutherford's bass, the crispness of Hackett's guitar (not to mention the way he makes it twist and bend like a leaf caught in a windstorm), and some of the best drumming Collins has ever done in his life. And I love the way it starts and ends with that classical piano melody.



I often find myself comparing More Fool Me to the song For Absent Friends: a short acoustic number to provide a rest in-between the prog epics. But here, I would have to say that Phil Collins, in his lead vocals, attains a contemplative softness rarely heard in his career, and I love the way Peter Gabriel graciously assumes the role of backing vocalist, underscoring Phil perfectly.



Then we come to the last half of the album. The Battle of Epping Forest is just about everything you would expect from a progressive epic. But here, the band reaches new levels of achievement. I enjoy how unlike past epics, we are not immediately thrown into Peter Gabriel's vocals, but rather we start with a militaristic tune (Phil Collins rolls out like an army drummer boy, while Gabriel accompanies on the flute) that slowly fades in and then out. This sets the stage wonderfully for what's to come. This is one of those songs that demands a great deal of attention from the listener. From a musical standpoint, one could enjoy this while working or driving the car, but it's also ideal for sitting at home, where one can read the lyrics as the tale unfolds. First of all, the band achieves a level of cynical humor here. The lyrics are inspired by an actual news article, involving rival London gangs fighting over East-End protection rights. There is a certain irony here, especially in lines like "these Christian solders fight to protect the poor" (anyone who knows anything about protection rackets knows that store owners pay gangs to protect their stores from the gangs themselves) and "the shops that need aid are those that haven't paid," as well as a tragic humor in the way the violence is intended to be civilized ("there's no guns in this gentlemen's bout"). Especially interesting is the way the band seems to divert right before the final battle into a side-story involving the church, and one of the gang leaders (Bob the Nob). Is the band speaking of the hypocrisy that's always been present within the leaders of the church, or is it trying to heighten the metaphor that this gang-war is a modern day crusade, the gangs themselves like Knights Templars? Ultimately, that's up to the listener to decide. For some reason, this side-story involving the church is listed as being the lyrics to After the Ordeal in the CD Booklet, when the song is really an instrumental. I've always looked upon After the Ordeal as an epilogue to the violent gangfight we've just been witness to (mopping up the "morning goo," as it were). In fact, I can almost picture it as music that might accompany the ending credits to a film. Very appropriate.



The album wraps up with two songs that fade into one another, something not seen on the rest of the album. The Cinema Show is an interesting story of the Greek myth of Tiresius, perhaps in a modern setting. It's a bit less edgy than the rest of the album, especially with the synthesizer solos, but I enjoy how Phil Collins and Mike Rutherford manage to keep the hectic rhythm of the drum and bass tracks going for the final six or seven minutes of the song. Then, we leave with Aisle of Plenty, which almost seems a reprisal to the lyrics of the first song. But here, the overdubbing of Gabriel's lyrics (as well as the key with which he sings the lines such as "see the deadly nightshade grow"), always gives me goosebumps, especially when accompanied by the synthesized choir and Banks's eletric piano. It's short, but I think it serves as a fitting end to the album.



Much as I admire the band's accomplishments under the direction of Phil Collins, I would have to say that Peter Gabriel's Genesis is, in the end, more engaging. The band members were at their musical peak in Gabriel's time, and I only wish that more people knew about early-70s Genesis. Anyone who wants to know should start with this album. It is a spectacular accomplishment in the field of progressive rock, and hopefully will give a whole new meaning to the Genesis most people know.

Procol Harum had Class. This Genesis disc defines Dignity

All Rock groups have contributed just a little something to the overall field. This early Genesis album contains the finest sounding, brilliant and mood-evoking examples of what Genesis were really all about, throughout their career - Rock music with a distinctive touch of class. It does not eventually grow tiresome to hear (as Deep Purple "Machine Head" for example); the originality of "Selling England by the Pound" never wears off.



The 9-minute plus "Firth of Fifth" is the standout classic of this Lp, it can be viewed as their most definitive track ever. The band played this particular gem live in concert for 20 years thereafter. "Firth of Fifth" is serious, classy, and moving. Moreover, it contains an absolutely lovely instrumental break in the middle, the likes of which cannot be had by any other rock group at any other time.



"Dancing with the Moonlit Knight" (opening track), and, the spacey-jazz instrumental workout comprising the better portion of the closing track, "the Cinema Show" are other Genesis hallmarks captured on this Lp. However, the non-Genesis fan will have to be tolerant of (or ignore) certain bits of corny silliness which drives a couple of other songs on this album. Peter Gabriel's vain attempts at humour and wit have never been appreciated by this listener....and I am a longtime Genesis fan.



I'm reluctant to rate this as Genesis very best album; many of their later albums came across a little stronger. But I will state with confidence that this album contains their finest, best recorded moments of musical genius and class - and that these moments were not recaptured on any other Genesis album, period.

What's with that farting noise?

On I Know What I Like, he sings "Over the garden wall, two little love birds" and then there's a fart. Haha.