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Rating:
Damned underground!
No, wait, I'm not wishing any curse upon it. I just meant that the underground is cursed by fate. Yes, because sometimes the records that represent it are worth much more than the underground itself. Despite this, people continue to ignore its offerings, which are thrown into the abyss of memory, making the underground a pompous and perpetual stream filled with vastly different proposals—from valuable works to objectively bad ones—yet destined to travel along the same torrential river rushing toward the abyss of oblivion. However, sometimes in this gloomy atmosphere of defeat, music enthusiasts come into play, convinced that there is not just trash within that river. That's when the explorer of the moment strips, dives into the river, and, once submerged, begins to wave their hands, hoping to resurface holding a small treasure tossed into oblivion.
I often return to those waters, and sometimes I too happen to find a slender but precious bounty to bring home. The story of this LP begins from that moment when I was able to close my fingers around it. It was a limited reissue from 1987, distributed in Europe by Timeless, a label that had already reissued important names like Gentle Giant or Fleetwood Mac, but had the courage to bring back this Grail,, initially distributed by Barclay, back in 1970. Needless to say, the record went unnoticed—as did its future reissues—and not even the Produced by Rod Stewart (yes, that Rod Stewart!) was useful to gain it a bit of popularity. But what went wrong?
In itself, the record is excellent, and produced in a “crudely” sublime way; but it is a thought that could only be expressed by a listener who has already absorbed much of the masterpieces of the past and finds themselves searching for and reevaluating all the "missing links" that were thrown into a corner at the time. Back then, psych/prog was a structurally complex, refined style, light years away from the raw and direct compositions of this work; it was also a genre that sought sonic homogeneity, unlike the product's tracklist under examination, which plays on a varied and irregular style, making it seem like a compilation rather than an album of new songs. In reality, Grail enjoys a certain conceptual uniformity that does not emerge at first listens, so much so that it seems like a work contaminated by a firm compositional superficiality, destined to be replaced—listen after listen—by a dark and precise depth, capable of moving almost like the great records of the “seventies” period.
First and foremost, the artwork is a menacing feast for the eyes: an imposing ship with a spectral look cuts through the back of raven-black water, resembling petroleum, beside which cups a monster reminiscent of the famous iconography of the "Lovecraftian" amphibian, intent on curiously scrutinizing the passing ship. Naturally, such an illustration could disturb more than one listener—should they be preparing to listen to the album for the first time. The turntable needle starts rubbing the surface of the record when, from the tingling emanating from the speakers, begins to grow the sound of a solitary cello intoning a grim “adagio” —the prelude to this extraordinary masterpiece. It's the beginning of the delirium: the opener Power is the most shocking and wicked thing one could hear at the time. The track is clearly of the “Sabbathian” school but extraordinarily allows itself the luxury of opting for an even more ferocious and obsessive turn, with pounding drumming, highly acidic guitars, and bass caged in heavy “doomy” shades. Chris Williams seems to sing with the voice of the devil, throwing wicked and hoarse screams that challenge his vocal cords, intoning a piece of powerful hard rock that in just seven minutes manages to thread primitive veins of heavy, thrash, and (even) black metal: a departure so unusual that it deserved to be properly “spoiled.”
Grail, however, is not only about vehemence: there are many ideas, and they must be fit into just under forty minutes of music. Thus arrives a bit of calm with Bleek Wind High —a terrifying crossing of the Acheron—a decadent and sulfurous ballad, guiding the listener towards the more melodic and sunny shore of the album. Day after Day, indeed, winks at the Pink Floyd of “Barrettian” memory, while the arcane mysticism of the title track is clearly of the Amon Duul II school, with a skillful use of the sitar by Dave Black. Side B opens with the weary notes of Camel Dung, thanks to a masterful work of flute and percussion, creating a sunny desert scenario that will make your eyes widen. This pleasant monotony will then be interrupted by certain, unexpected heroic and adventurous breaks that shape the most prog-oriented song of the entire LP. Follows the raven folklore of Sunday Morning, a relaxed pretext tasked with ferrying us back to the muscular side of this band, thanks to the final eleven minutes—acidic, pressing, electric, and fierce—with the wintry and unhealthy Czechers and the heavy The Square (the most doom-oriented of this work). The journey finally ends with the final roll of Chris Perry.
A record clinging to an alternative, dreamlike, demonic, and dark dimension; capable of summarizing in a leaner and rougher way—yet noteworthy—what good had been conceived by the global psychedelia during the late “sixties” period, but which at the same time prepares for the advent of heavy music, with a series of truly energetic and inspired tracks. Very intelligent mastering work that allows the listener not to suffer too much from the sound jump of the multiple styles adorning the record—you only really notice it between the second and third track, but otherwise, everything is very nice: it starts violent, calms down in the middle, and ends electric! A series of thus disorganized tracks in the raw state, but here arranged respecting a sonic chronology that makes them seem like a concept divided into several parts.
An exceptional and indispensable record, perhaps not understood at the time, but could be reevaluated today itself. It's just a pity about the scarce availability online, both concerning music listening websites and availability in online stores. The advice is to still aim for the import market, hoping you manage to perform the miracle. It's well worth it.
Federico “Dragonstar” Passarella.
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