National Health
Playtime

1978 - "And Then There Were Three"

How easy would it be to resume discussing the controversial artistic shift of one of the most representative symphonic prog groups? How many experts, or so-called experts, would dive into opinions and suppositions, creating yet another futile debate on one of the most discussed issues of the entire late seventies rock scene? How many "lovers" of the progressive movement (inexplicably stuck with Genesis, Yes, King Crimson, and a few other chosen ones) would return to proclaim the extinction of every form of musical art after the apocalyptic 1977? I don't know... Certainly more than those genuinely interested in drawing a parallel with another fundamental yet ignobly snubbed and misunderstood band: National Health.

I have never understood why the Canterbury Sound has always had such a colossal difficulty being appreciated. Genius and inimitable formations (an emblematic case being Hatfield and the North) found themselves forced to surrender to a disarming general indifference, far from singular in those years, but surprisingly constant towards this jazz prog originating from the enchanting lands of Kent.

The story I'm about to tell, therefore, will not be set in crowded squares or stadiums echoing with the screams of a bursting crowd in adoration, but sees its first scene unfold in a pub in Southall (in West London) managed by a friend of Pam, at the time the wife of drummer Pip Pyle. The latter, together with keyboardist Dave Stewart, guitarist Phil Miller, and bassist John Greaves, was busy organizing the Spanish and Italian legs of the "Of Queues and Cures" tour, also considering the possibility of expanding the band with the presence of former Henry Cow Georgie Born and Lindsay Cooper, respectively engaged with the cello and oboe (and bassoon). Unfortunately, the band's rosy expectations shattered against the serious economic risks generated by the unexpected cancellation of some concerts in Spain, forcing our heroes to make so many expense cuts that eventually Dave, tired of the continuous financial limitations and puzzled by the increasingly "free" direction taken by the band, decided to leave, causing the two newcomers to flee as well, leaving the three survivors to look around, hoping to come up with a brilliant idea.

The tour was clearly shelved, and they spent some time brainstorming, trying every possible way to get back on track until the merciful Alan Gowen, having completed his multiple projects, made himself available to rejoin the band he had helped to found three years earlier, allowing National Health to start playing around Europe again in the spring of '79 and in America in the winter of that same year. "Playtime" indeed testifies to this period, firstly presenting us with tracks from a live performance at the "Ouest de la Grosne" in France, held on April 27th, then showing us the magical episodes of a show performed on December 1st at "The Main Point" in Pennsylvania.

What is immediately clear is how imposing Alan's artistic influence is, who, without much ceremony, changes the game and transforms the avant-prog sound that had so deeply characterized the latest album into a complex jazz with soft nuances, which does not despise improvisation but still remains consistent with the key points of the compositions, retracing those paths previously laid out by the warm and articulate music of his Gilgamesh. The stylistic shift is, if possible, even more evident in the representation of pieces originally played by Dave ("Dreams Wide Awake", "Squarer for Maud"), which gain a fluidity and lightness far removed from R.I.O. standards and the sharp sounds in which they were born, making this record much closer to the group's early days compared to their more recent evolutions.

Despite the keyboard playing a dominant role, the other instruments certainly do not merely accompany, but constantly strive to catch Alan's relentless fingers, now pursued by the heavy steps of John's bass ("Nowadays a Silhouette", appeared in "Before a Word Is Said"), now contrasted by Phil's fierce guitar solos ("Play Time", previously published in "Another Fine Tune You've Got Me Into"). Pip's drumming does not hold back either, it seems to enjoy constantly changing shape, transitioning from the delirious rhythm of short, convulsive intermissions ("Rhubarb Jam" - "Rose Sob", included along with the bonus track "Silence" in "Accident," John's second solo work), to jazzy and mutable acrobatics that weave through the background of extensive atmosphere-laden periods, although at times difficult to follow ("Toad of Toad Hall", later divided into two parts and included in "D.S. al Coda" - "Pleiades", later renamed "Seven Sisters" and recorded in Pip's album "7 Year Itch" in '98).

Here the record ends, and so too does our long story, which marks the decline of a band, as well as a life (that of Alan, who would die in '81), devoted to art and creativity, which may not remain etched in the memory of the masses, but will find a comfortable refuge, resting in the hearts and minds of those wandering storytellers and those minstrels uninterested in the luxury of courts, still willing today, despite the reigning apathetic tide, to sing of its fabulous and immortal deeds.