Genesis
Selling England By The Pound

THE REVIEW

The most famous album from the early Genesis era, a mature product of the progressive climate inaugurated by Trespass and continued with albums of great depth in which the parameters of a style justly praised by history and critics are defined, not by the broader public and charts, as will instead be the case in the years following Gabriel's departure.

If there is a criticism to be made of an album like Selling England, it perhaps concerns the slight decline in inspiration from Banks and company, manifested in a tendency towards sometimes excessive virtuosity and an occasionally inappropriate use of synthesizers, which at times abruptly break the atmosphere, along with the excessively pop nature of some tracks (I Know What I Like, More Fool Me); in short, behind this album, one can glimpse a general decline in ideas, a reason why we might be inclined to prefer the previous Foxtrot, perhaps their most complete album, a true "summa" of Genesis art.

To avoid any misunderstanding, the record is still splendid; once again, the five manage to astound with the unpredictability of the melodic lines and the incredible harmonic richness of the tracks, all immersed in the unmistakable dreamy and romantic atmosphere, with a medieval and baroque flavor, making them at once so modern and ancient, so innovative and tied to tradition.
Also noteworthy are the lyrics, with the usual literary references, linguistic twists, wordplays, where alongside the usual mythological-fairy tale themes, social issues sneak in; as in the opening track (Dancing With The Moonlit Knight), an indictment of the consumerism of modern life, notable also musically (Gabriel's anguished voice opening the track), with the customary succession of themes in a crescendo of epicness.
The pleasant I Know What I Like follows, leading to the album's main attraction, its most famous track, Firth of Fifth, perhaps the best the Genesis ever produced in their career: the piano intro alone is worth the price of the record, and as for the rest, it's hard to comment on a work of such caliber, in front of which even the excellent subsequent tracks fade into the background (the mini-suite The Battle of Epping Forest, with an almost "theatrical", operetta-like character, or the instrumental "After the Ordeal").

"The Cinema Show" (with lyrics inspired by a passage from T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land"), with its delicate opening arpeggios, and "Aisle of Plenty" worthily close a stunning record and an era, a style, an approach to music that has no equal in the history of progressive and rock music; even Genesis themselves in subsequent albums, starting with The Lamb, and ending with decidedly less dignified commercial pop, will not be able to match the artistic peaks reached in this first part of their career, and to define a style for richness of sounds, originality, spontaneity, and at the same time sophistication, at least remotely comparable to this.