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Rating: The Van Der Graaf Generator are certainly one of the most original bands in the history of rock.
Although their albums, alas, are not that many, I can assure you that the music contained in them is worth much more than that found in the entire and endless discographies of various clowns and groups of clowns that are so popular today.
The fact is that VDGG's music is difficult to digest: everyone agrees that "Pawn Hearts" (1971) is a milestone of progressive rock (and not only), but few are those who manage to grasp the true essence of this great masterpiece, of the albums that preceded it, and above all, of those that followed it. Among the latter, "Still Life" (1976) stands out, which perhaps, between "Godbluff" (1975) and "World Record" (1977), is the least underrated. After all, it takes a lot of imagination to say that a work like this is of low quality, but there are still some ignorant people who have the courage to claim it (and at the same time self-define as music critics).
The sixth effort of the English band, "Still Life" is characterized by a great presence of vocal parts despite the instrumental ones. In other words, Banton's organ and Jackson's sax (or flute) primarily assume an accompanying role, while Hammill's voice becomes the true hallmark of the 5 songs. The first of these is "Pilgrims", a rather melodic and catchy track, characterized above all by the intensity shifts of the singing: the lyrics somewhat recall those of the old "Refugees".
The title track boasts a superb, psychodramatic voice and organ introduction, which leads to a more lively section, guided by the sax. Then the melody of the intro is resumed, first by all the instruments, then only by Hammill, who, accompanying himself on the piano, intimately closes the piece. It continues with "La Rossa", the most captivating song of the album. Hammill picks up the electric guitar and leads the band through numerous and continuous tempo changes that literally keep us "glued to the headphones" for these over 10 minutes. It talks about sex, and Peter does it through the clever use of ironic allegories (organ-monkeys, organ-grinders, pipes starting to spit). However, do not think that the themes of the song are superficial: beyond the ironic layer, deep, dangerous subjects are tackled, left in a dark corner by all the other prog bands of the era.
The next track, "My Room", is a true gem. Piano, bass, sax, and light drums create a delicate and essential atmosphere on which Hammill takes center stage, first low, then high, with his voice, performing the piece as only he could. The change from major to minor key provokes a strange sensation, it's one of those few moments that truly gives you goosebumps.
"Still Life" concludes with a new musical colossus, "Childlike Faith In Childhood's End", a beautiful song that, however, musically adds little to what has already been said during the album. The lyrics are interesting instead, a sort of complex philosophical inquiry regarding death and what comes after it. In conclusion, "Still Life" is an excellent album, in my opinion, only preceded by "Pawn Hearts" and "The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other" (1970). If you know this band but do not own this record, get it. If you already have it, reevaluate it. If the name "Van Der Graaf Generator" means nothing to you but you still managed to reach the end of the review...
Then while you're here, stop listening to crap and unclog your ears with this stuff!
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Pilgrims (07:12)
(Hammill - Jackson) Sometimes you feel so far away, distanced from all the action of the play, unable to grasp significance, marking the plot with diffident dismay, stranded at centre stage, scrabbling through your diary for a lost page: unsure of the dream. Kicking a stone across the beach, aching for love and comfort out of reach, the way ahead seems to be so bleak, there's no-one with any friendship left to speak or show any relation between your present and future situations: lost to the dream. Away, away, away: look to the future day for hope, some form of peace within the growing storm. I climb through the evening, alive and believing: in time we shall all know our goals and so, finally, home. For now, all is secret- though how could I speak it, allow me the dream in my eye. I've been waiting for such a long time just to see it at last, all of the hands tightly clasped, all of us pilgrims. Walking in silence down the coast, merely to journey - here hope is the most; merely to know there is an end, all of us - lovers, brothers, sisters, friends hand in hand. Shining footprints on the wet sand lead to the dream. The time has come, the tide has almost run and drained the deep: I rise from lifelong sleep. It seems such a long time I've dreamed but now, awake, I can see we are pilgrims and so must walk this road, unknown in our purpose, alone, but not worthless, and home ever calling us on. We've been waiting here for so long, all of our hands joined in hope, holding the weight on the rope, all of us pilgrims.
05 Childlike Faith in Childhood's End (12:24)
Existence is a stage on which we pass,
a sleepwalk trick for mind and heart;
it's hopeless, I know, but onward I must go
and try to make a start
at seeing something more
than day to day survival, chased by final death.
if I believed this the sum of the life to which we've come,
I wouldn't waste my breath.
Somehow, there must be more.
There was a time when more was felt than known
but now, entrenched inside my sett,
in light more mundane, thought rattles round my brain:
we live, we die...and yet?
In the beginning there was order and destiny
but now that path has reached the border
and on our knees is no way to face the future, whatever it be.
Though the forces which hold us in place
last through eons in unruffled grace
we, too, wear the face of creation.
As anti-matter sucks and pulses periodically
the bud unfolds, the bloom is dead, all space is living history.
It seems as though time must betray us yet we're alive
and though I see no God to save us, still we survive
through the centuries of progress
which don't get us very far.
All illusion! All is bogus...
we don't yet know what we are.
Laughing, hoping, praying, joking, Son of Man,
with lowered eyes but lifting hearts, we're grains of sand
and though, in time, the sea may claim us for its own
we are the rocks which root the future - on us it grows!
We might not be there to share it
if eternity's a jest but I think that I can bear it
if the next life is the best.
Even if there is a heaven when we die,
endless bliss would be as meaningless as the lie
that always comes as answer to the question
"Why do we see through the eyes of creation?"
Adrift without a course,
it's very lonely here,
our only conjecture
what lies behind the dark.
Still, I find I can cling to a lifeline,
think of a lifetime which means more than my own one,
dreams of a grander thing than we are.
Time and Space hang heavy on my shoulders...
when all life is over who can say
no mutated force shall remain?
Though the towers of the city are denied to we men of clay
still we know we shall scale the heights some day.
Frightened in the silence, frightened, but thinking very hard,
let us make computations of the stars.
Older, wiser, sadder, blinder, watch us run:
faster, longer, harder, stronger, now it comes...
colour blisters, image splinters gravitate
towards the centre, in final splendour disintegrate.
The universe now beckons
and Man, too, must take His place;
just a few last fleeting seconds
to wander in the waste,
and the children who were ourselves move on,
reincarnation stills its now perfected song,
and at last we are free of the bonds of creation.
All the jokers and gaolers, all the junkies and slavers too,
all the throng who have danced a merry tune...
human we can all be, but Humanity we must rise above,
in the name of all faith and hope and love.
There's a time for all pilgrims, and a time for the fakers too,
there's a time when we all will stand alone and nude,
naked to the galaxies...naked, but clothed in the overview:
as we reach Childhood's End we must start anew.
And though dark is the highway,
and the peak's distance breaks my heart,
for I never shall see it, still I play my part,
believing that what waits for us
is the cosmos compared to the dust of the past.
In the death of mere Humans Life shall start!
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Other reviews
By caesar666
The band was courageously following their own artistic path without making easy concessions to pop.
"Still Life" is one of their most dramatic songs ever; the ecclesiastical and gothic organ supports Hammill's lyrics.
