It happened that Rick Wakeman, during one of his countless exits from the grand Yes, decided to compose music under his own name. And it happened that before getting lost in dozens and dozens of new-wave works and after delivering two notable pieces, debuting with "The Six Wives of Henry VIII" and continuing his journey to the center of the Earth, the blonde keyboardist emerged in 1975 simply with the most famous of the United Kingdom's legends. The story is told, well-known (but I made a stop at Wikipedia anyway...), of the young Arthur (who knows if he really existed, or was inspired by another character: some speak of a Roman leader, some of the king of the Britons…), in love with Guinevere, who became king by pulling the mythical Excalibur from the stone: the legend tells that this sword was destroyed in combat and that Merlin then advised the young king to replace it with the sword in the hand of the one defined as the Lady of the Lake. In the castle of Camelot, at his Round Table sat the valiant knights (it's unclear how many) and according to some sources Merlin. There was also an empty seat, reserved for the noble-hearted one who would retrieve the holy Grail: the endeavor was accomplished by Sir Galahad, the illegitimate son of Lancelot and a certain Elena of Corbenic, who deceived the knight by assuming the features of the beloved Guinevere, his king's wife… many films on the subject (“The Last Knight” with Sean Connery and Richard Gere, “King Arthur” with the beautiful Keira Knightley…), no need to talk about it further.

Leaving behind the musical support of the other Yes monsters and of Dave Cousins from the Strawbs, his old band, for other musicians of less fame (at least for me…), Wakeman prepared to set to music in his own way this true treasure of Her Majesty's tradition. Needless to say, the theme exalted the class and, why not, the pomposity of the best progressive keyboardist (sorry, Mr. Emerson); but it is a Wakeman who still has control of his countless keyboards (any enthusiast probably has in mind the back cover photo of “The Six Wives of Henry VIII”) and the LP presents many moments of great intensity, others truly solemn, often of high musical calibre. And then his fantastic prolixities, how to live without?

The first track of the concept is simply “Arthur”: majestic attack with incisive drums (Barney James), keyboard ramblings, a very strange singing (only after a few listens does it seem at least adequate and starts to be appreciated), all culminating in a very intense finale. Ultimately, a good intro, but not at the level of the central section of the work. Next is “Lady Of The Lake”, a very brief choral song of rare suggestiveness, and the beautiful “Guinevere”: stunning piano intro, then silence… among a thousand crescendo keyboard effects begins a melodic ballad, dedicated to Guinevere, the one who will fall in love with Arthur and become “Queen of all the Britains”. The guitar solo (Jeffrey Crampton) is very effective. After love, action… immediately frenzied rhythm for “Sir Lancelot And The Black Knight”: furious singing among keyboard riffs (if one can call them that) and a spectacular choral refrain evoking the Black Knight. In the central section, Wakeman performs a beautiful solo. A truly remarkable track.

In a solemn choir here comes (and how could he miss…) “Merlin The Magician”. The song (mini-suite?) is instrumental, and technically it's the artistic peak for Wakeman on the LP: frantic rhythms almost circus-like symbolizing, I believe, the magic duels (it almost seems like you can see Madam Mim from the Disney movie…) leaving deep doubts on the number of limbs at the blonde keyboardist’s disposal and moments of heartbreaking piano with a bass (Roger Newell playing Squire) in evidence. Perhaps it's less bombastic than the previous tracks, less pompous, but the technique is excellent and the ten minutes truly fly by… Needless to say, another spine-chilling choir, hence “Sir Galahad” also punches in the clock.

An initial piano that flows from the theme of “Guinevere” into a keyboard explosion (what a nice adjective, I’m overusing it…). The high voices of the singing return (for the record, Ashley Hold and Gary Pickford Hopkins…) supported by Wakeman's very particular use of instrumentation. Perhaps inferior to the previous tracks, it is nonetheless an enjoyable track. But now the battle is imminent, the story is about to be decided, and it can only take place in the most incisive weapon of progressive, the suite. Although mini… “The Last Battle” is majestic in its progress, never as intense as the first tracks, but dedicated to a more melodious approach: singing and narrative parts alternate with beautiful phrases of King Richard and his collaborators. Clearly, there are solos and some choruses, the true leitmotif of the work. To witness the classical setting of Wakeman, the finale is a solemn dialogue between piano and percussion.

Have I rambled too much, right? I beg your pardon. I conclude by recommending this work to those who love progressive, because it is a work worthy of one of the best interpreters of that golden era of music. And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

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