U.K.
U.K.

With exhilarating breaks, the album by the supergroup U.K. begins, represented by great progmen of the time. It is 1978, John Wetton and Bill Bruford are fresh from the crimson experience, Allan Holdsworth is, as always, trying to get by with his six-string companion, and Eddie Jobson is playing comfortably with Frank Zappa, from whose band he is literally stolen.

Thus, the quintessential British band forms, the name itself is already a statement, and the members have the taste for merging the greatness of progressive very popular at that time with the refinement of jazz so loved by the guitarist. The result is excellent, and unfortunately, it is witnessed by only one self-titled album. Other products come out as U.K., but the magic is gone because Holdsworth and Bruford leave after two long tours, and the style, although remaining in the genre, changes. The quartet becomes a trio with the entry of Terry Bozzio for only two years, during which two more albums are produced before abandoning the project altogether. Who knows how the history of various bands would have changed if they had decided to stay together. Perhaps John Wetton wouldn’t have given life to Asia, or maybe Ian Anderson would have found the keyboardist of his life, who knows... But it's useless to live on what-ifs, what’s important is what history (and man) has created.

But returning to the breaks at the album's opening, they energetically introduce the long suite divided into three songs: "In The Dead Of Night" is the first, and all the aggressiveness born from the freshness and energy of a new collaboration is felt with vigor: the riff is genius and sublime, Wetton's voice (still) energetic as he plays his four-string treasure, and the excellent Bill Bruford interlaces well between the keyboard sounds and guitar lines. After reaching the peaks of exhilaration, it moves on to "By The Light Of Day", the same story but finely slowed, where the Moog reigns psychedelically, joining with the other instruments in a crescendo that introduces the final tail of the suite: "Presto Vivace And Reprise", a complicated and highly proggy finale that gives you goosebumps for a short period of time, and then reprises the theme of the previous songs, its sisters in art. The album is already worth it for this incredible beginning alone.

Softer atmospheres advance for the peaceful yet distressing intro of "Thirty Days", featuring fantastic irregular tempos and guitar and keyboard solos for the rest of the song, opening the dance to jazz. A dance that will only conclude for the genre at the end of the album: "Alaska" is the glaring example, with keyboards accelerated excessively, which carries on into the next piece "Time To Kill", where, as if that were not enough, Wetton phrases in an unbalanced manner.

The last two songs are entrusted to Allan Holdsworth, with a breathtaking acoustic intro leading into a somewhat unconvincing "Nevermore", which with its sung parts is a bit tedious, but is uplifted by the guitarist's fantastic improvisations and the back-and-forth between him and the keyboard. Jazz reigns here!

"Mental Medication", aside from its beautiful title, doesn't have much to offer because it practically mirrors the previous one.

Overall, an album that starts off great but then gradually loses momentum, descending into exemplary jazz, made of mere technique (which the musicians in question possess in no small quantity). An overall remarkably successful jazz-prog experiment.