(Portions of this column were taken from "Confessions Of A Fantasy Geek," also by Clayton Walnum. Copyright 2003 by Clayton Walnum)

As I write this, I know that the final part of the The Lord Of The Rings trilogy doesn't start for another week, but here I sit, in front of the Showcase Cinema in a mangy sleeping bag, waiting for the chance to be the first person in Connecticut to get a ticket for what will be without a doubt the greatest motion picture never to receive a best-picture Academy Award. I'm getting a little mangy, too, not having showered in several days, and I think I may be growing something in my arm pits, but I can't risk losing my place in line (If, in fact, one person constitutes a line).

A few days ago, people began dropping spare change into my Lord Of The Rings tote bag, which perches open next to the Merry and Pippin blanket I brought to stay warm and to convince the local authorities I wasn't to be messed with. I think, however, that people misunderstand why I'm camped in front of the theater. Still, if they want to finance my little outing, so be it. If I had any pride, I wouldn't be sitting here in the first place. I also wouldn't be lining up my Lord Of The Rings action figures on the sidewalk and staging the battle for Helms Deep, over and over, for the amusement of the world's non-fantasy-geeks, who sidle past me, muttering and clutching their children to their sides. I want to ensure them that I haven't eaten any toddlers lately ... well, at least not for a month or so ... but everyone runs away whenever I stand up.

During this vigil, my Gandalf costume has gotten damp, stained, and even ripped, but that's just one measure of what I'll endure to score my favorite seat for the premiere of The Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King. I am, though, a little miffed at that mouse who, while I was sleeping and dreaming I was an elf, made a nest in my Gandalf beard. I, of course, vanquished him with a Firebolt spell I picked up from the official Lord Of The Rings Magician's Handbook, which I keep carefully arrayed along with my complete set of D&D manuals and my Xena collector's plates. A fine chap with a large Slurpie managed to extinguish the beard before the flames spread to my pointed wizard's hat. The mouse, alas, deciding not to be set aflame after all, managed to make his escape during the ruckus.

I've already seen the first two installments of The Lord of the Rings -- The Fellowship Of The Ring and The Two Towers -- three times, one time for each being the extended, nearly four-hour versions from the four-DVD collector's sets. And, yes, I've watched all the DVD extras, as well. What else do I have to do with 20 hours of my life? I've also watched the TV version of The Hobbit several times, singing along with the sappy songs, grinning and dancing about the living room. I guess the neighbors won't be stopping in for lunch anymore.

Ralph Bakshi's The Lord Of The Rings animated feature, which seemed so important in its prime, but which now looks amateurish and low-tech, also resides for long periods within my VCR. Whatever possessed Bakshi to stop the story only halfway through is a mystery, but members of my Thieves Guild have been ordered to hunt him down, dress him up as the elf woman Galadriel, and force him to sell balloons out in front of the theater (Yes, I know I use a lot of cross-dressing jokes in my writing, but wearing women's clothes is such a fun way to spend a Friday night, except for the way the panties give me that rash).

As night closes in, I wonder if it is, in fact, Gollum staring at me from under that Chevy with the "Proud Parents of an Honor Student" bumper sticker. Of course, I know that isn't possible, considering that Gollum is a fictional character. Anyway, the dwarves under the blue Caravan and the elves under the yellow Saturn have assured me that they've got my back. Still, I worry about the orcs. The pools of light thrown from the parking-lot lamps won't keep them at bay for long. And I owe that nasty one with the missing eye ten bucks from last week's poker game.

As I wait for the sun to chase away parking-lot evil, it occurs to me why so much progressive rock takes its themes from fantasy and science fiction literature. The Lord Of The Rings, especially, is a bottomless source of lyrics and music, from Led Zeppelin's song "Ramble On" to The Middle Earth Album by Glass Hammer. Bands like Ilúvatar, Mirthrandir, and Isildurs Bane lifted their sobriquets from the extraordinary stories of J.R.R. Tolkien.

It's all a matter of "what if?" People who enjoy imaginative literature, as well as cutting-edge music, have the imagination to ask that important "What if?" question. More importantly, I have the imagination to ask, "What if that really is Gollum under the Chevy with the 'Proud Parents of an Honor Student' bumper sticker?"

The reader of Isaac Asimov's robot stories asks, "What if we shared the world with robots who must obey three basic rules: 1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm, 2) A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law, and 3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second law?" In the case of The Lord Of The Rings, the reader asks, "What if the world was a magical place populated by dwarves, elves, hobbits, and other fantastic creatures?" In the case of progressive rock, a musician asks, "What if, instead of having a single melody, we wove three contrapuntal melodies all together and played the result in 7/8 time instead of the old boring 4/4 time?"

As you can see, complexity, too, plays a role. Who but the most avid reader can keep track of the hundreds of characters encompassed by The Lord Of The Rings, characters who have, in fact, multiple names. The wizard called Gandalf by men -- as well as Gandalf the Grey, Gandalf the White, and The Grey Pilgrim -- is called Mithrandir by the elves. This is one type of complexity that keeps imaginative people reading, as if putting together an immense word puzzle. It's also the type of complexity that drives imaginative people toward music that derives depth from complexity. Why have one melody when you can have three, not to mention variations on the theme?

I have little doubt that Tolkien was a great lover of music. In The Silmarillion, one of the deepest and most extravagant fantasy books ever written, Tolkien's universe springs into existence directly from musical themes. Tolkien tells of the god Ilúvatar (also called Eru) who creates from his thoughts the Ainar (also called the Holy Ones and who would eventually become the Valar and the Maiar ... whew!). Eru teaches the Ainar a set of musical themes, which they sing for him. As the Ainar learn more about the musical themes and their place in the composition, they begin to sing in harmony, and so fashion the Great Music, which bursts into the void and creates the World (also called Arda, The Realm, The Kingdom of Manw&ecaute, and Eä -- double whew!). To quote The Silmarillion:

Ilúvatar said to them: ?Behold your Music!' And he showed to them a vision, giving to them sight where before was only hearing; and they saw a new World made visible before them, and it was globed amid the Void, and it was sustained therein, but was not of it. And as they looked and wondered this World began to unfold its history, and it seemed to them that it lived and grew.

How cool is that? Tolkien's gorgeous mythology goes on to describe one Ainar named Melkor who cared little for the harmony sung by the other Ainar. Rather than fit in with the main theme, Melkor introduces dissonance and counterpoint:

as the theme progressed, it came into the heart of Melkor to interweave matters of his own imagining that were not in accord with the theme of Ilúvatar; for he sought therein to increase the power and the glory of the part assigned to himself.

Melkor's dark themes represent the troubles soon to be visited upon the World, and, in fact, it is Melkor's servant, Sauron, who is the head-honcho baddie behind the story presented in The Lord Of The Rings (By the way, in case you haven't noticed, the band Marillion gets its name from The Silmarillion. They used to be called Silmarillion, but eventually dropped the first three letters).

The bottom line is that most of us who listen to progressive rock probably also like to read something meatier than the latest John Grisham novel. Many of us will be in line bright and early to get tickets for The Return Of The King. We might even be willing to wait in line for a long while. But, please, leave the action figures and costumes at home. And if you run into that one-eyed orc, tell him I'll have his money next week.

Clay's CDs in Rotation

A whole flood of great music has hit my CD player in recent weeks. The amount of good progressive rock being put out these days is astonishing. Herewith, then, I present a few tasty morsels on which I've lately been chewing ... well, at least until someone told me that CDs work better when you keep them out of your mouth.

Ritual - Ritual

Ritual's first album, recorded in 1995, has been re-released, and it's a doozy. I was suitably impressed with the group's recent effort, Think Like A Mountain, but their first release turns out to be superior in every way. Whereas Think Like A Mountain (still a great album, by the way) draws influence from more mainstream fare such as Led Zeppelin and Queen, the band's eponymous debut is more a traditional prog album, taking inspiration from Yes and Gentle Giant. Patrik Lundstr?m, the prog wunderkind who, along with Roine Stolt, has spectacularly revived Kaipa, is in terrific voice here, singing with passion and precision. The songs feature strong melodies interwoven with complex, and often scorching, instrumental sections. Moreover the album is expertly recorded, arranged, and produced. In short, a must-have release. What is it with those Swedes and great progressive rock?

Rating: 4/5

Syzygy - The Allegory of Light

If 70s-style progressive rock tickles your fancy, you're going to wet your diapers when you hear The Allegory Of Light by the U.S. prog group Syzygy. Their exact style is hard to nail down, but expect complex, yet playful, music along the lines of maybe Yes mixed with Nektar and Happy The Man. A bit of King Crimson also rears is well-coifed head here and there. The infrequent vocals aren't spectacular, but plenty competent enough. In any case, it's the instrumental fare, which easily overshadows any vocals, that's of greatest interest here. When it comes to attacking their instruments, Syzygy is a group with which to be reckoned, winding together compositions of great musical prowess. Guitarist Carl Baldassarre (who is also the album's producer), especially, weaves terrific Fripp-like or Howe-like patterns that often burst into more modern torridness. Amazing.

Rating: 5/5

Poverty's No Crime - The Chemical Chaos

On their album The Chemical Chaos, German rockers Poverty's No Crime play a set of energetic songs that you might classify as light prog metal. These folks aren't as heavy as a band like Dream Theater, straying more to the hard-rock (AOR?) side of the spectrum, but their music is still complex, well composed, and cranks along at a hundred miles an hour. Songs leap in a blink from walls of roaring guitars to acoustic gentleness and back again. Vocalist Volker Walsemann, although not as versatile as James LaBrie (hey, how many singers are?), delivers the lyrics with authority and skill. The rest of the group also play a tight, professional set, enhanced by pristine production. Highly recommended.

Rating: 4/5

The Complete Idiot's Guide To Home Recording, Illustrated - Clayton Walnum

Finally, if you'll excuse a little self-promotion, my new book, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Home Recording, Illustrated, is now available for purchase at your favorite bookstore. If you're interested in learning to put together a small home recording studio and produce those progressive masterpieces floating around in your head, or if you'd just like to know how the job gets done, you'll find this an interesting read.

On A Somber Note

Before I close out this edition of "The Prog Life," I need to address an email I received recently. Let me preface my remarks by saying that, at first, I didn't know what to do with the disturbing message I received from a fellow progger who goes by the nickname of Shadow Moses. These days, so many people use email to run scams that it's impossible to decide how genuine some messages are. However, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what this person had to gain by scamming anyone. Moreover, I would hate to overlook what sounds like a very serious situation just because, thanks to the hundreds of spam emails and obvious scams I receive every week, I've become overly cynical. So here's the email in question. You be the judge:

Dear Clay

I am a former UNB student. I say former because, two weeks ago, I got some terrible news. I found out that I have an inoperable tumor in the left hemisphere of my brain (that explains the pixie visions, lol :
I have a favour to ask. I have always luved your column, found it a great source for some good music and great laffs. I wanted to ask if you could post my message on your next column, if only so that other progheads could maybe say a prayer or two for me (maybe Neal himself!!). It might help.

(PS: Testimony Rulez )

"Shadow Moses" (cool nick huh?)

Shadow, I hope you will forgive me for not being sure of your email. My sympathies and hopes are very much with you, and maybe the rest of you fine folks can send healing thoughts Shadow's way.

Until next time, send me your proggy thoughts via email at cwalnum1@earthlink.net. Most importantly, keep on proggin'!

Links:
Lord Of The Rings website
Led Zeppelin
Glass Hammer
Il?vatar
Mirthandir
Isildurs Bane
Marillion
Queen
Yes
Gentle Giant
Kaipa
Nektar
Happy The Man
King Crimson
Dream Theater

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Published on: 2007-11-22 (3999 reads)