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Among the many artistic rivals that the Beatles saw multiplying at breakneck speed as the end of the sixties approached, Procol Harum seemed at one point among the most fierce and reputable, thanks to an initial series of outstanding singles, released quickly one after another as was the custom then, starting with the one in question that made a sensational debut and remained, though worn by time, an acclaimed evergreen of pop music.
However, when their albums also started to come out, they contained many fillers, various episodes that were poorly crafted and inspired. And despite some progressive improvement, with record releases of increasingly average quality, at that point, they almost lacked memorable individual songs, masterpieces, production peaks, with the result that the Procol Harum brand quickly lost charisma and consideration, increasingly retreating to the pop and rock backup positions, compromising too much the historical memory of this group.
The magic of this song is founded on the mix between the heartfelt rhythm & blues-styled vocals of pianist and frontman Gary Brooker and the absolutely dominant counter-theme, played at full volume on the Hammond organ as no one had ever done before in a hit track, to the credit of organist Matthew Fisher. The aforementioned musician, gently inspired by Bach's so-called “Air on the G String,” almost entirely transplants the descending bass movement (what a bassist Bach! One of the best…) and then manages to derive a melodic variation of almost equal beauty, less charming and mysterious but more glorious and extroverted.
There is no doubt that the appeal and commercial success of this song owe more to the organ motif content (and the excellent corresponding tone, rendered predominantly by the mixing) than the singing melody, not to mention the abstruse and insignificant lyrics, but they were psychedelic times… even the title is no joke: “A Whiter Shade of Pale”! Yet Fisher had to fight legally for many years before he managed to have 50% of the royalties for this track recognized, for long years the sole province of his colleague Brooker who had written the vocal part, harmony, melody, and lyrics.
On the cover, psychedelic almost as much as the title, Brooker is the little mustache in the foreground, Fisher is the first little face on the right, semi-hidden. The other three don't count… they were session men hired for the need; the group would organically form right after the first major success of this single, and at that point, a couple of excellent musicians would be taken on, namely drummer B.J. Wilson (whom Jimmy Page had considered for the future Led Zeppelin, before the newly hired frontman Robert Plant showed him how his fellow countryman John Bonham played and then... amen!) and guitarist Robin Trower, who would later enhance himself autonomously with his rock blues band.
John Lennon said at the time that “A Whiter Shade of Pale” was the best single of 1967, and since, in the meantime, he was putting out things like “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “I’m the Walrus,” it's believable, also because he didn’t suffer from modesty and lack of ambition.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 A Whiter Shade of Pale (04:10)
We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kind of seasick
The crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
The waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said there is no reason
And the truth is plain to see
But I wandered through my playing cards
Would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might just as well've been closed
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
02 A Salty Dog (04:37)
'All hands on deck, we've run afloat!' I heard the captain cry
'Explore the ship, replace the cook: let no one leave alive!'
Across the straits, around the Horn: how far can sailors fly?
A twisted path, our tortured course, and no one left alive
We sailed for parts unknown to man, where ships come home to die
No lofty peak, nor fortress bold, could match our captain's eye
Upon the seventh seasick day we made our port of call
A sand so white, and sea so blue, no mortal place at all
We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept: our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many Junes have passed since we made land
A salty dog, this seaman's log: your witness my own hand
03 Homburg (03:52)
Your multilingual business friend
has packed her bags and fled
Leaving only ash-filled ashtrays
and the lipsticked unmade bed
The mirror on reflection
has climbed back upon the wall
for the floor she found descended
and the ceiling was too tall
Your trouser cuffs are dirty
and your shoes are laced up wrong
you'd better take off your homburg
'cos your overcoat is too long
The town clock in the market square
stands waiting for the hour
when its hands they both turn backwards
and on meeting will devour
both themselves and also any fool
who dares to tell the time
And the sun and moon will shatter
and the signposts cease to sign
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