FACT AND FICTION

Except for the minor detail that this album was recorded without the usual keyboardsman's participation (bassist Clive Mitten providing all keyboards then), this is classic Twelfth Night at their peak: in fact, "Fact and Fiction" is an authentic masterpiece of 80s neo-prog. Twelfth Night were actually the most primal pioneers of the neo-prog trend, so it is no wonder that they mastered the style and tricks so amazingly and convincingly years before Marillion, Pallas and IQ began to forge their own way towards musical maturity. TN was already there, with their rough rocking sound, stylish keyboard orchestrations, pop sensibility and, most of all, a taste for moderate complexity in the compositions and a sense of poetry and drama in both the vocal department and lyric writing. Geoff Mann, may he rest in peace, was the man who could provide a weird, yet captivating frontman appeal to the instrumentalists' input which combines the frontal energy of post-punk and new wave with the structural sophistication of vintage British symphonic prog. The opener 'We are Sane' is an absolute killer, in many ways a prototype of what TN is all about: the previous overall description that I intended for TN's prog orientation can also be used for 'We Are Sane' specifically. The same goes for 'Creepshow'. Both tracks comprise various musical ideas in well-ordained sequences united in an epic whole: it is also noticeable that these two songs contain the most patent examples of sociopolitical criticism, making anger recycled through a filter of satiric vibe. This is where Mann's peculiar vocal theatricals get in as a natural extension of the characters used as paradigms of sufferers - the oppressed, the failure, the marginal, the underdog. The rhythm duo of Mitten and Devoil is solid enough to enhance the inherent excitement of the tracks, an excitement that finds its most accomplished expression in Revell's guitar leads, riffs and various phrases (very much influenced by Gilmour and the guitar heroes of early 80s heavy metal, yet perfectly adapted into the scheme of neo-prog). 'Human Being' and 'This City' show a more vulnerable side of Mann's disenchanted viewpoints about modern society. The former - bearing a moderately bombastic structure - focuses on the alienated self of urban people, while the latter - poppier, almost like Ultravox-meets- The Chameleons - looks directly into the eye of the monster, the big inhumane industrial city. The eerie instrumental 'World without an End' brings a brief relaxing lapse before the Gary Numan-ish title track, funny and clever, poppish in a lovely way. Things get more ambitious with the segued instrumental 'The Poet Sniffs a Flower', whose first part is based on the interaction between acoustic guitar and synth layers, while the second part finds the band speeding things up splendidly. 'Creepshow', with its dramatic flavors, would have served as a tight closure, but it is then followed by 'Love Song'. This is a magnificent closure, a classical guitar-based ballad in homage of the dream of world peace and universal solidarity. Mann knows how to turn this naïve notion into moving poetry - the final lines are irresistible: "If you find that your open heart / has led you into pain / Take a tip from the Carpenter / Forgive and love again. and again". Before that, Revell's solo created an emotional peak for the song and the album, a perfect climax before the serene ending. While the fade-out softly ends, I will quote Mann one more time: "Nothing more to say" (from the song 'The Ceiling Speaks').