TARKUS

If you thought the songs on Emerson, Lake & Palmer's first album were a bit on the long side, Tarkus sets the record straight: the title track that opens the album is no shorter than twenty minutes and forty seconds. But if that scares you off, let me also say right now that "Tarkus" is the most concise and convincing expression of all of this band's strengths, and indeed all the strengths of (symphonic) progressive rock in general.

The story of "Tarkus" (as far as there is one; the lyrics don't really tie into it at all so I'm just getting this from the liner notes) is centred around the creature on the front cover: an armadillo tank hybrid named Tarkus, who hatches from an egg and fights an array of mechanical foes before meeting his demise at the hands of a manticore. If that sounds goofy and nonsensical to you, that might be because you're not insane. Well, don't let this scare you off either because these guys manage to turn a story that's completely bonkers into an absolutely fascinating musical journey.

The first part, "Eruption", throws you right away into the heat of the action: a rip-roaring instrumental keyboard workout that's full of strange time signatures and tempo changes, but maintains a steady drive throughout and never feels like it's falling apart. The main thing that sets it apart from similar keyboard showcases on the preceding record is Keith Emerson's use of the Moog synthesizer: while the band already made some economic use of the synth on their debut, Tarkus is where the instrument becomes a definite staple of the band's sound, even if the organ is still the dominant voice.

"Iconoclast" and "Manticore" supposedly portray the battles between Tarkus and the other monsters, and mostly follow the same pattern as "Eruption", but they nonetheless sound unique and are no less enthusiastic. In between these sections however, the boys make sure to insert vocal parts that are more calm and restrained, so that the effect never becomes stale. "Stones Of Years" is a majestic heavenly ballad that goes for the same atmosphere as "Take A Pebble" on the last album, albeit with a bit more drive. "Mass" on the other hand is the most rock-oriented part of the suite: it's based on a solid hard rock riff and prominently features a cowbell, as well as a notably more aggressive vocal delivery from Lake, and it works excellently. Finally, "Battlefield" is sad and mournful, and gives Greg Lake a chance to shine on electric guitar for the first time. Meanwhile, Emerson plays some marvellous organ solos on both "Stones Of Years" and "Mass": the man is in top form, and his colleagues on the drums and bass provide an immaculate backing.

In the end, after the chaos of "Battlefield" subsides, the suite concludes with its final section: "Aquatarkus", a determined-sounding synthesizer-based march indicating Tarkus' resurrection (or something to that extent). The tension is supremely built up over the course of three minutes, and when the song finally ends with a reprise of its opening section, it feels like one reaches Nirvana?

So? Why does this album only get four stars, then? It's because the second half of it doesn't live up to the standard of the first half at all. It almost feels like the remaining six songs were added for the sole purpose of extending the album to standard LP length. The only one of these that I'd call essential is "Bitches Crystal", which, despite its dumb title, shows the most energy out of all of them. It's fast, frantic and features some really nice piano lines, as well as a really cool vocal delivery from Lake.

None of the other songs are bad, but they don't really say or do anything that the title track didn't do much better. "A Time And A Place" sure gives off a bombastic vibe, but it's a little too monotonous to be of much worth. The same can be said about "The Only Way", a not very successful attempt at writing a deep, philosophical protest song, and the piano-based instrumental "Infinite Space", which tries to create a more ethereal effect again but doesn't succeed too well either. Finally, there are two silly joke tracks: I haven't decided yet whether the lyrics to "Jeremy Bender" are horrible or just stupid, so just pay them no mind because the song itself is actually pretty funny, as is the boogie-woogie parody "Are You Ready, Eddy?", although it's kind of pointless for both of these songs to exist on the same record. Still, things like this aren't really enough to carry an album.

I first heard this album at the beginning of 2013, and to this day the title track still ranks as one of the best songs I've ever heard in my life, so my deep respect and affinity for the suite keeps me from lowering the rating any further. But at the same time, I have to admit that as an album, Tarkus is a little uneven, which makes it overall a less accomplished product than ELP's debut. But man, that first track is worth the price of admission alone. Give insanity a chance!