Twenty Sixty Six and Then
Reflections

The year 1066 was undoubtedly filled with events, especially in England, where Duke William of Normandy, by defeating King Harold II's Saxon army in the famous Battle of Hastings, seized the English throne, thus initiating the unification of what until then had been nothing more than a collection of constantly warring principalities, extremely distant from the concept of a nation-state that Norman sovereignty would from that moment onwards introduce to English territory.

But what will happen a thousand years later? What events will characterize the unfolding of the year 2066? Unfortunately, we do not know, but there is one thing we are aware of: how, in 1971, in Germany, the singer Geff Harrison (of English origin), guitarist Gagey Mrozeck, bassist Dieter Baucer, drummer Konstantin Bommarius, keyboardists Veit Marvos and Steve Robinson (or should I say Rainer Geyer?), with the help of flutist Wolfgang Schoonbrot and second drummer Curt Cress, created "Reflections on the Future," the only work of Twenty Sixty Six and Then (2066), who, despite their name, met their bitter fate, common to many other bands of the era, just the year following the release of this unknown and captivating mixture of rock with decidedly hard, progressive, and a light dusting of psychedelia enriched by cosmic flavors with a clear Teutonic mark.

What I am about to illustrate to you is not the authentic edition of the LP, practically untraceable given the only one thousand copies existing, but the CD reissue released in '89 under the simple name "Reflections," by Second Battle, distinguished by a rather bizarre particularity: it contains no recording present in the original vinyl. "What, what!?" you might say.. Indeed. Fate, cruel as ever, wanted, at the time of the reissue, that the original recordings (belonging to the late United Artists) were lost forever, thus forcing those involved to use alternative and premature versions of the tracks recorded seventeen years earlier. What emerged was an album composed of longer and bolder tracks, with not exactly stellar audio and some tracks long unpublished, as they were previously used as singles or simply discarded from the lineup intended for the first version of the record.

"At My Home" opens the work in a gritty and compelling way, thanks to the recurring interplay between guitar and Hammond organ, the incisive appearances of the flute, and Geff's hoarse and powerful voice, which, thanks to an intense and poignant interpretation, takes center stage also in the melancholic "Autumn," where the rhythmic section shines, with Konstantin's ever-ready and brisk drumming at every change of pace, something that happens again, particularly in the colorful "Butterking," where only the keyboards of the awarded firm Veit & Steve, through a bursting solo in the heart of the composition, hold their own against the aforementioned and very skilled drummer's sticks.

The title track offers numerous solo spinoffs, both for Gagey's gritty guitar, particularly biting midway through, and for Dieter's bass, often prominent while dictating the rhythm with its dark and at times oppressive tones, and for the usual and amazing keyboards, which, besides being the authors of an impressive number of forays scattered throughout the piece, also indulge, towards its end, in creating an unsettling and almost disturbing lysergic trip, finding its natural habitat in the inhospitable and wild territories located at the extreme limit of listenability.

The startling start of "The Way That I Feel Today" throws the listener off with its overwhelming energy and catapults them towards jazzy sounds dominated by bass, drums, but especially by Wolfgang’s phenomenal flute and the lively and penetrating sound of the piano, splendid in its majestic march along the parts where Geff's voice seems to need its support. The long instrumental "Spring," perhaps lacking a bit of punch, once again sees the keyboards under the spotlight, in this case, even the undisputed master of the piece which, due to its prolixity, we are not surprised not to find in the original version of the record, which is also missing the two singles "I Wanna Stay" and "Time Can't Take it Away," the second significantly more interesting than the first.

But, after all, what to say in conclusion of this verbose and almost endless examination? Well, that we are undoubtedly facing a massive, singular, bold work, of undeniable value and that, in its first yet, alas, untraceable version, would most likely deserve no less than five shining stars.