Hackett’s solo debut, 1975’s The Voyage Of The Acolyte, was a concept album, taking its inspiration from the tarot, but apart from toying with some themes on 1980’s Defector, which he states is not a complete concept album, he hasn’t revisited that format until The Circus And The Nightwhale — a wise move that’s resulted in one of his very best releases.
When in
Genesis, Hackett contributed to one of progressive rock’s most famous concept
albums, The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.
Its protagonist, Rael, was
the hapless victim of unfathomable outside forces. But although The Lamb... follows its own strange logic, we
always know where Rael is within the narrative. The
Circus And The Nightwhale is different in that while it’s inspired by
Hackett’s memories, it’s a kaleidoscope of real and imagined elements rather
than a linear story. He also wanted to have different musical eras co-existing
within the same song, and here Hackett has constructed a world and invites the
listener in.
On People Of The Smoke, Hackett and his co-lyricist and wife, Jo, describe the gritty reality of London and how it was culturally transformed by the energy of 60s youth culture and rock’n’roll. This feeling of emancipation, of not having to bow 'to your betters' is reflected in a passage of formal string figures, before Hackett’s lead guitar bursts in at thrilling speed. He wanted The Circus And The Nightwhale to be musically and emotionally overwhelming and he gives us some of the most flamboyant and dazzling guitar-playing of his career. As a youth, Hackett lived opposite Battersea Power Station, and worked at London’s only permanent funfair, which was situated next to it. This idea of the Fairground dreamland leads us into the album’s fast-moving, cinematic moods.
Harp-like 12-string guitar and synth bass notes, reminiscent of the Genesis song Entangled from A Trick Of The Tail, feature on Enter The Ring. Hackett sings harmonies with Amanda Lehman, then his brother John leads a jig-like section on flute and the song moves into an orchestral section with echoes of the giddy fairground swirl of The Beatles’ Being For The Benefit Of Mister Kite.
A feeling of panic and being trapped pervades Get Me Out with Travia 'Stuck to the wall on a spinning wheel’, and
Hackett’s guitar is harsh and aggressive. Ghost
Moon And Living Love is more lyrical, a rumination on the thrill of new
love and its redemptive power, but all is under threat once more on Circo Inferno. Malik Mansurov’s tar
introduces the dance, with sax and guitar outbursts, and the band locking into
some fast, agitated unison sections.
A number
of short instrumentals link the songs and All At
Sea is another sound collage with Hackett’s quicksilver guitar
navigating its way through the turbulence. The titular Into The Nightwhale, its insistent rhythmic
pattern centred on one chord, nods back to A Tower Struck
Down on The Voyage Of The Acolyte. It
feels like a journey into oblivion.
Is Travia,
like Rael in Cuckoo Cocoon, going to
end up as, 'Some sort of Jonah shut up inside the
whale’? Ultimately, being consumed by the metaphorical cetacean doesn’t
do him much harm. The penultimate track, the anthemic Wherever You Are, suggests that he is never out of
reach of the song 'that can travel to the ends of
the Earth’, and that warm feeling is reinforced by strings and ecstatic
lead guitar.
This is
Hackett telling his own story thus far, and it’s a moving conclusion to an
allusive rollercoaster of an album — haunting, cryptic, exciting,
disorientating. But if it had been more literal it would have lost some of its
magic. The Spanish-flavoured acoustic guitar postscript White Dove shrugs off the preceding weight and
worry, replacing it with a much longed-for feeling of liberation. It’s a
fitting end to Hackett’s finest solo album to date.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.