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Rating:
Sometimes I think that, deep down, a music critic like Rizzi might seem like a fool: that meager, single round dot on the masterpiece that is "A Passion Play" by Jethro Tull is exemplary in proving my hypothesis. Then, in some ways, opinions change: not so much for the dinosaurs, of which we know everything, but for the countless groups of the underground scene; often it’s a shame they are not known, and so here are a few satisfying lines in this sense. Thus, one discovers bands with the most varied instrumental compositions, even "monstrous" duos that finish an LP with only a keyboard, as if they were the Duo Oleggio - one a fool and the other worse - in a wedding banquet tour. Of course, this is an extreme: there is a fair number of more or less known bands that manage to carve out their dignified role in the history of the most cerebral and engaging of musical genres. One of these (in truth more than a niche band: more appropriate is a placement in the secondary ranks of the progressive legion) has a decidedly evocative name, and a voice worth listening to. This group is Renaissance.
Born as a folk-symphonic formation at the end of the sixties from a core that was part of the Yardbirds (Relf and McCarty), this band breaks up early, during the making of their second LP, "Illusion" in 1970. Next, the band is completely renewed. The new line-up, however, does not take its final form until a pretty girl with long hair appears at an audition. She is Annie Haslam: in a short time, she will probably become the most important woman of the entire progressive scene (perhaps only rivaled by Sonja Kristina of Curved Air). Her personal, melodic, and extensive voice is the embroidery over the sinuous plots woven by Michael Dunford’s guitar and John Tout’s keyboards. The rise of the group does not go unnoticed by enthusiasts: the particular music of Renaissance, a symphonic style suspended between baroque and exotic, comes to fruition in a handful of notable LPs before falling into its own grandiosity and rising towards a more easily renewable and representable song form, with significant economic returns.
To close the most strictly progressive period, and thus the peak of the inevitable arc, an LP released in nineteen seventy-five for a certain company known to the world as BTM. "Scheherazade & Other Stories" already evokes from the title exotic lands and impressions from a thousand and one nights. The LP, played on four tracks, stands on the closing suite and the opening "Trip To The Fair": this is an excellent track, opened by shrill keyboard chords and supported by Haslam's beautiful voice in a market atmosphere in the kingdom of Prince Aladdin; from here, a nice progressive opening takes shape where a very pleasant choir rises majestically. "The Vultures Fly High" is a brief interlude, perhaps a precursor of the sound that will characterize them in the near future, but no less intense for this reason. "Ocean Gypsy" reaches seven minutes, an hypnotic melody for voice and keyboards that turns into an airy ballad, highlighting the beautiful bass work by Jonathan Camp and the incisive drumming of Terence Sullivan.
But the time has come: "Song Of Scheherazade" stands majestic and resounding in its sound, the bass is a pulsing heart, male voices rise to meet the warm voice of Scheherazade, before it takes off on the magic carpet of keyboards towards the progressive kingdom, where symphonic art will create castles of unbearable intensity.
A very good album indeed, emblematic of a group that absolutely deserves to be reevaluated for how innovative (why not?) or at least good they were in the sparkling progressive kingdom during the brief life interval in which it became immortal.
If Rizzi gives it three dots, good for him. I gladly give the fourth to Scheherazade.
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