EMERSON, LAKE & PALMER WORKS: But Only As A Frisbee!

EMERSON, LAKE & PALMER Works (Volume 1)

This is disgusting and there’s no sense mincing pies any longer:

* 1. Emerson’s side consists of a piano concerto in three movements (i.e., about the average grunt for the not dissimilar bowel movement). The first two are little better than classical scaling exercises of the type Jan Hammer had mastered long before his Czechoslovakian walnuts dropped. At best there are melodic hints at the themes of ELP’s earlier “hits,” but instead of adding to this ivory effort they merely show this wingnut’s limits. The third movement is the most innovative, if only because it relies more upon the orchestra (London Philharmonic no less, but no more either) than the Stein way. It’s unfortunate that this stiff wrist technician, instead of sparking the interest of some glue sniffing cretin toward the genuinely fine classical stuff, will probably drive said glue head even deeper into Black Oak Arkansas.

#2. Lake’s side does with orchestra and choir what The Babys do with distortion; making the same three chords function as intricate tonal hocus pocus. Oh, wow. This latent folkie (hasn’t even got the conviction to drop the fig leaf orchestrations and stand naked as the true wimp he is) at his best is almost as good as Bob Dylan at his worst. There are no new messages here as the entire groove is devoted to meat market love and the search for religious salvation through degradation which makes at least this portion of the package a must for the swingle sleasure suit set who still insist on dealing with their empty biological (solely chemical) lustings in a sophisticated masquerade of quim conquest.

#3. Palmer’s side is not 22:42 worth of drum solo; it too, is a fully orchestrated total bland out. The major composition, “L.A. Nights,” may be the first genuine classical symphony disco track ever, but even that dubious honor doesn’t make it worth more than jack-squat. The remainder offers more, although not distinct, examples of classical/jazz/rock fusion mb-rub squirting.

#4. ELP’s side (Emerson, Lake & Palmer as the supergroup, ELP) features the most absolutely stagnant version of Aaron Copland’s “Fanfare For The Common Man” available anywhere at any price. The only other number in this entire musical compost heap where all three nits play together as the supergroup is 13:20 in length and entitled “Pirates.” Even with the tune’s endearing concept (a salty tale of a crusty old seadog who flops around the bounding main looting and plundering), it still fails to pass musical muster. First of all, the story isn’t funny (c/, Zap Comix; Captain Pissgums) and secondly, the music hasn’t even the compelling emotion of a cold plate of pasta.

These gumbies may have temporarily avoided their problem of being too chickenplop to step out and sustain solo careers, even though they have long ago exhausted any merit they once possibly had as a supergroup by cowering under the marketable security of “the group,” while dividing up the two platters so that everyone has a chance to pull his own diddle at length and still yank away in the shelter of group therapy. Slick, but after all is pressed, printed and packed into one ominous lump of turd, all that remains is a nice logo; very adaptable to signet ring reproduction.

One must remember that while man might not be able to cure leprosy, he should at least try to contain it. Fuck ’em.