VANGELIS

Newcomers to the melodramatic synth-rock of Evangelos Odysseas Papathanassiou couldn't ask for a more polite introduction than this album: solid entry-level Vangelis, for better or worse. It might have been designed that way as well. There's something almost calculated in the diversity of music on display, from the big cinematic gestures of the two- part "Nucleogenesis" to the nervous electro-jazz jamming of "Main Sequence" to the boilerplate space drift of "Mare Tranquillitatis", complete with Apollo moonwalk transmission samples.

Maybe the different moods were intended as a calling card to Hollywood ('Soundtracks Made to Order!'). Certainly anyone familiar with the old PBS show "Cosmos" won't be able to hear the album without recalling the beatific smile of Carl Sagan as he navigates his Spaceship of the Imagination through the outer solar system. Or perhaps all the variety was meant to fill an audition tape for the keyboard seat in YES, insecurely held by Patrick Moraz at the time.

In either case, the quality of the music varies widely between four-star Progressive Electronic excellence and synthetic two-star tackiness. Quintessential wide-screen workouts like "Pulstar" and "Alpha" flaunt a brash lack of subtlety and taste that sounded invigorating in 1976, but have dated badly since then.

And finally there's the near-ambient title track, with its calm HAL-2000 recitation of astronomical data: a minor miracle of atmospheric understatement. The album cover helpfully defines the title for all you non-geeks in the audience (a small minority among Vangelis fans, I'm sure). And the rear sleeve photo shows the viewing stand for a Cape Kennedy rocket launch, like the individual track names (and like the music itself) exploiting the somewhat trite association that existed in the 1970s between synthesizers and space exploration.

This style of music always had a limited shelf life, and was even then becoming a stale cliché. But Vangelis was setting the bar for the mainstream popularization of synth rock, with both ears keenly tuned to the sound of commercial success.

Where do I begin with one of my favourite albums? One that I've had for over twenty years, that I still listen to all the time and find it impresses and amazes me more and more each time. Vangelis' `The Dragon' is what true progressive music is to me - a blending of different styles and genres to create something truly inventive and forward-thinking. It's a hypnotic combination of droning raga-rock, psychedelic haze and ethnic atmosphere, full of drama, rising tension and contrasting dreamy passages. The way the acoustic instruments weave around electric guitar and humming electronics truly bridges the past and the future, the ancient world with the modern.

The title track is a hypnotic mantra, filled with swallowing gulping bass and dizzying ethnic percussion. This journey to the East is a thrilling and dynamic droning piece, with a rough and reckless Krautrock style as it runs through everything from bolero rhythms, near-Arabic themes and fuzzy dark psychedelia. It constantly builds with lurking mystery and monstrous tension throughout, occasionally breaking into wild violin jigging and freeform distorted electric guitar phasing. Tribal beats, crashing predatory drumming, monotonous acoustic guitar strumming and harsh electronics blur into a tornado of blissful aggression and primal fury. Just close your eyes and be swept away with it.

`Stuffed Aubergine' begins as a tip-toeing and delicate dreamscape of gentle electric guitar picking and floating shimmering electric piano. I think of a serene lake, with an inviting and beckoning ghostly female presence far away in the distance calling me closer. It's as if this figure has taken me in her arms where I know I'll be protected from all my doubts and worries, but I'm still anxious and frightened at this new sensation. Waterdrop-like looped percussion soon mixes with commanding strummed acoustic-guitar bliss with serene synth washes and mad bass soloing. Such a wonderful and drifting Krautrock number, that makes for a perfect come-down with just a hint of danger.

`Stuffed Tomato' is a ragged, almost sitar-like droning folk piece with commanding deep-throated aggression before stomping in with a thick and crushing Amon Duul-like feel good acid-freakout middle full of hippie vibe. Careening bass, spiraling keyboard solos and murky electric guitar churning tear through a whirlwind of jazzy electric piano and impossibly manic acoustic playing. Play it loud, and this one will totally threaten to overwhelm you.

I was initially drawn to the album by that wonderful cover. As a lifetime collector of comic books, the album cover just leapt out at me! I mean, just look at it - B-Movie monster heaven! I'm a proud owner of a pristine vinyl edition, and it holds a very special place in my collection. It's unbelievable to think that this album was never really intended to be released, instead put out without the artists' permission. The fact we came so close to not being able to enjoy this wonderful musical experience is shocking.

Although I like many of his later electronic albums, it's his earlier phase as an experimental/world/ambient artist that really fascinates me, as Vangelis was clearly searching in all possible directions for a sign of where to head. This is really up there with his immersive proto-ambient `L'Apocalypse Des Animaux', though where that album is a subtle and fragile thing of beauty, `The Dragon' is a wild and wooly beast flailing about full of energy.

An essential part of any raga-rock, ethnic, dark psychedelic folk and Krautrock music fans collection.

The second unauthorized Vangelis album (after "Hypothesis") was recorded in 1971, very early into or even before his illustrious solo career. So it makes sense that the music here resembles something from his group APHRODITE'S CHILD more than the middlebrow synth extravaganzas and soundtracks he would later gain fame for.

At the time, the future Oscar-winning composer was simply exploring possible career options, in a London studio alongside a quartet of session players. An actual album was never intended, and by the time these tapes were (illegally) released in1978 the tardy results must have blindsided a lot of fans. The album's heavy, Hellenistic psychedelia was more structured than the jazzier "Hypothesis", but sounded just as unlikely next to other Vangelis albums available at the same time ("Spiral"; "China").

The 15-plus minute title track is a lot like the creature depicted on the front cover: a rampaging beast of music built around a strong, hypnotic riff lifted straight off the dirty backstreets of urban Athens, apparently by way of Munich (it wouldn't have sounded out of place on an early AMON DÜÜL album). In startling contrast, the delicate electric piano of "Stuffed Aubergine" (I'm guessing all the titles were chosen at random from a Greek cookbook) sounds not unlike CLUSTER's Hans-Joachim Roedelius enjoying a Mediterranean vacation. Be ready for when the synthetic strings finally drift within earshot: a moment of understated musical drama.

The album finale "Stuffed Tomato" then beats a hasty retreat to rural Macedonia, for an ethnic folk jam played on what might be a bouzouki-like string instrument or a radically de- tuned piano. There's a brutal edit before the full band is engaged, showing exactly how Vangelis might have developed his music in a more traditional Prog Rock setting.

The London sessions were never really completed, and didn't lead anywhere except to a battery of lawsuits. Maybe Vangelis abandoned the tapes because he wasn't the obvious star in a true ensemble effort, possibly the same reason for his not joining YES a few years later. Or maybe he just felt this sort of unrehearsed music wasn't enough to build an entire career from.

Either way the album (even more than "Hypothesis") stands apart from his primary body of work, but in a very cool, very novel way. I feel conflicted about awarding four stars to something Vangelis himself fought hard to legally block. But there isn't a court of law on Earth where this music wouldn't kick serious butt.

The first of two unofficial (i.e. illegally marketed) Vangelis albums release in 1978 doesn't fully deserve the three stars I'm rounding my rating up to. But settling for only two stars (fans only) wouldn't be exactly right either, if only because his most ardent followers might not even recognize this bizarre novelty as the work of the same artist responsible for albums like "Heaven and Hell" or "Albedo 0.39".

The music itself (for this effort, and its likewise illicit companion, "The Dragon") was actually recorded more than a half-decade earlier, as part of a series of strictly exploratory studio sessions never intended for public consumption. Six years later, after Vangelis had established himself as a bona fide star, the tapes were slapped onto vinyl inside a totally random sci-fi cover and released without the artist's permission, in a blatant act of commercial exploitation.

Lawsuits followed, naturally. It's a pity too, because there's some fascinating music here, completely unlike anything else in the wide Vangelis discography. Jazzy keyboard improvisations, accompanied by drums, bass and violin? Vangelis was definitely playing outside his comfort zone, but deserves a lot of credit for making such a bold leap without any kind of safety net (and also, please note, without the inborn sensitivity of a natural jazzer). The second, more spacey and abstract half of the record is particularly rewarding in a weird, ersatz Krautrock sort of way, despite the arbitrary edits, sloppy drum solo, and unresolved ending (it just...sort of stops).

I'm sure the whole reason behind the music was to find a possible aim for his newly minted solo career. To that end the seemingly random album title was actually well chosen, presenting an open-ended musical proposition, in this case no doubt leading Vangelis to the conclusion that his talents were better utilized elsewhere.

Thomas Edison supposedly once said, 'I never failed; I just found 3,000 ways how not to build a light bulb.' This album needs to be heard the same way, as a less-than- incandescent experiment offering a valuable peek into the creative process, and in its own messy way providing a worthwhile alternative to some of the aural wallpaper Vangelis would later become famous for.

Here's a little Progressive Electronic trivia to start your day: how many degrees of separation connect Greek keyboard maestro Vangelis Papathanassiou with Krautrock's Florian Fricke, the enigmatic leader of Popol Vuh?

Only four, surprisingly. Arranged like this: in 1977 Vangelis released his album "Ignacio", a soundtrack to the 1975 François Reichenbach movie "Do You Hear the Dogs Barking?"...the film was a nominee at that year's Cannes Film Festival...at which the big award winner was "The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser", directed by Werner Herzog...featuring (in a small but memorable role) Herzog's friend and collaborator Florian Fricke, as a blind pianist.

All pretty much useless information, I know. And totally beside the point of this review. But arguably still part of any wider appreciation of a neglected minor gem hidden within the larger Vangelis discography.

"Ignacio" was released soon after the conspicuous success of "Heaven and Hell" and "Albedo 0.39", and before the relative blockbuster "Spiral" and "China" albums. So it's no surprise that the soundtrack to an obscure European film was somewhat lost in the shuffle. And yet it features some of the keyboard wizard's best music from his '70s heyday, organized over two side-long mini-suites filled with quintessential cinematic synth and percussion atmospheres.

Part One introduces one of his trademark simple-yet-familiar themes, instantly recognizable even if you've never heard it before (selections were featured in the Carl Sagan PBS show "Cosmos"). The music develops in slowly overlapping waves over the album's first half, showing more taste and sensitivity than Vangelis often exhibited in his more popular work. Imagine "Heaven and Hell" without the extremes of bombast and occasional tackiness, and you'll find a pretty close approximation of "Ignacio".

Part Two opens with an assertive, almost techno-rock jam, before (thankfully) moving into more abstract and eerie territory, totally percussive at first and then drifting into ambient space. The unexpected coda borrows a wistful melody from Side One, arranged over a melancholy rhythm box and what sounds like a synthetic bouzouki. It's one of the rare moments of genuine Greek flavor on a Vangelis album, evoking the Arcadian ruins of a Hellenic temple in an ancient grove of olive trees.

I'm getting carried away now. But in its own quiet way this otherwise low-profile, throwaway effort stands taller than you might expect among the bigger, better-selling Vangelis albums of the era.

If you did not know the title, it sounds like China.

This is the album I like best by Vangelis and it has been awhile since I played this until today. He inserts a little more power into this effort as I think the subject matter requires those grand, majestic, and climatic moments. However, there are also the lovely compositions that bring out the image of the peaceful, contemplative side of that land.

The opening track, Chung Juo starts us off on a grand note full of synths that have a slicing oriental sound throughout. The Long March is a beautiful piano melody with some background synthesizer. The Dragon brings us back into a power mode and is one of the strongest songs on album with heavy keyboards and some nice percussions.

Now back to the beauty side, The Plum Blossum is a delightful violin playfully dancing around a methodical piano melody. It also mixes in some strong well placed synths. Very nice.

Continuing into the peaceful side of things, the next three songs mix some traditional oriental instruments with keyboards and spoken meditative words in one song, The Little Fete. The Tao of Love has a wonderful melody.

Now the epic and my favorite, Himalaya. Power synthesizer filled journey up the mountain. It winds and builds its way up to a climatic peak, which fits into the next song, Summit. It gives you that atmospheric feel that you accomplished the climb and now you soak it all in.

Excellent album, 4 plus stars but will keep it at 4.

AEProgman

I certainly have not heard all that Vangelis has to offer, but I have heard enough to know that there is a good deal in his sizable repertoire that I really enjoy. Given the variety on offer, it is hard to know where to make the next move. Heaven & Hell and Albedo 0.39 while not perfect are among the most excellent and ambitious albums I have ever heard. The logical progression in mind was to pursue the next most highly rated album of about that era and thus, I arrived at Spiral.

What I found is an album which is technically proficient, but cold. The incredible fire which went into make those other works seems to have gone out or at the very least been pressed into service elsewhere. The best track on the album is the opener and title track which sounds like it could have been lifted directly from Albedo 0.39. To the Unknown Man is also pleasantly uplifting if a bit aloof. Afterward however, Vangelis seems content to mimic the mechanistic style of his German contemporaries, especially Tangerine Dream. What I always appreciate about Vangelis' music is that, even though he composes primarily using synthetic instrumentation, he brings a feeling and passion which pushes through the detachment of his chosen medium.

I can appreciate that this is the album that Vangelis wanted to make at the time, and I trust that he was still passionate about his work, but I'll take explosive and unpredictable if inconsistent over focused banal any day when it comes to Vangelis. To be honest, I do not particularly recommend this album. I consider myself a fan, but this album is not really possessing of the qualities which endear me to Vangelis. 2 out of five, for collectors/fans.

It's all Greek to me

Released in 1979, "Odes" sits between "China" and "Opera Sauvage" which were also released that year. We should not really look upon this as an integral part of the Vangelis discography though, as it was originally intended only for the local Greek market, and only made available in that country. It was some years later before the album was given an international release. Even the sleeve plays down Vangelis admittedly heavy involvement, with only Papas name appearing on the front cover.

The reason for the restricted availability is that this is actually a collaboration album with Greek actress Irene Papas, who provides vocals throughout. Papas has enjoyed international success as an actress over many years, her films including such classics as "The Guns of Navarone". Here, she joins with Vangelis in offering modern interpretations of traditional Greek folk songs, the collection being rounded out by a couple of original compositions. The songs are sung in Greek, hence the localised nature of the original marketing.

The eight tracks capture various aspects of the history and geography of Greece, ranging from the march of a band of warriors during the Greek war of independence to a pastoral appreciation of the beautiful river Jannes. The opening "The forty braves" (I shall adopt the English language titles) is dedicated to said warriors, Papas being joined by a small chorus to add depth to the sound. Papas vocals are deep and slightly warbled, similar to singers such as Enya, Buffy St. Marie and Melanie.

"Little Orange Tree" has a real Enya feel to it, the moody ambience of her slightly echoed voice being accentuated by some soft synths. "Dance of fire" is the first of the new compositions, but even this is based on traditional Greek melodies and inspirations. Papas sits this one out, the track being entirely instrumental, with something of a Jean Michel Jarre feel. In contrast, "The Kolokotronis family" tells the tale of a legendary Greek dynasty through the unaccompanied voice of Papas.

The two reunite for "The river", dedicated to the aforementioned Jannes river. Here we have arguably the most beautiful piece on the album, Vangelis deep synth tones following Papas deep but delicate vocal superbly. "The roots" is the second of the original compositions and instrumentals. It is very much a continuation of "Dance of fire", taking its inspiration from the same themes. "Lament" is just that, a lament to the passing of a daughter by her mother, sung as a sort of spiritual wake. The track has an Arabic atmosphere, Papas strong, unemotional vocal adding to the gloom.

The closing "Menoussis" is a more orthodox narrative folk story of love, jealousy and infidelity, sung to a slightly more upbeat melody with chorale backing.

Overall, a rather different entry in the Vangelis time line. Papas is very much the star of the show here, but if we listen more carefully, Vangelis contribution is significant throughout. Those who appreciate the work of Vangelis may be a little bemused by this album at first, but such reservations will rapidly disappear.

Vangelis is a Greek composer and multi-instrumentalist most famous for his score for the film Chariots of Fire. As surprising as it may seem, he actually has a long and productive career with many studio albums to his name. This is one of his most well known and celebrated, a collection of two side-long suites based on the concept of - you guessed it - Heaven and Hell.

This is a difficult album to review, because musically, it's all over the place. I'll be frank, there are a lot of cringe-worthy moments here. The use of the synthesizer was still relatively unrefined in 1975, but Vangelis dives in with gusto, producing sounds that now seem very badly dated. The first half of side one is bombastic and unpleasant, with annoyingly abrasive synths and hackneyed vocals by ominous sounding Greek choirs. This is supposed to be Heaven?

Side two, Hell, is, in general, much less prone to these sorts of problems and has plenty of lovely moments with tolling bells and a lovely female vocal melody, although the tasteful creepiness is still occasionally interrupted by obnoxiously dated sound effects, including an incredibly annoying siren-like synthesizer that won't shut up.

So why am I giving this album three whole stars when it seems to have so little going for it? Because Vangelis makes up for all of it, all of the tacky synths, the lack of restraint, the bombast, the hokey choirs, and the general vagueness of his concept in the second half of side one. He makes up for it, and then some.

About ten minutes in to the Heaven half, all the choirs and keyboard riffs drop out and a sense of cosmic peace washes over the listener. This section may be familiar to some as the theme from the Carl Sagan TV series, Cosmos. The music here is absolutely perfect, capturing the vastness and beauty of space, and then just when you think it can't get any better, it does.

The last section of the Heaven side is a song called "So Long Ago, So Clear" sung by Jon Anderson of the band Yes. It's utterly gorgeous, with Anderson in fine voice and the melody one of exquisite grace and tenderness. This section along with the previous one comprise roughly a quarter of the album, yet they are so good that they force to (almost) overlook the record's other flaws. Honestly, that ten minutes is worth the price of admission.

Maybe other listeners are less bothered by the synth parts (or less taken with Jon Anderson) than I am, but for me Heaven and Hell is a bewildering listen, a product of its time that leaves me feeling both moved and vaguely annoyed.

IN general I don't like operations of this kind: take a successful soundtrack, include the material discarded from the first CD to fill a second one, then write some new stuff vaguely inspired to the plot and fill a 3rd CD to justify an expensive 25th anniversary edition.

But this is Vangelis and what he discards could be material for more than one album for other artists, and with his composing skills even the 3rd CD doesn't miss anything of the original atmosphere of the movie.

Everybody recognizes, even Ridley Scott I think, that a good portion of the movie's success is in the soundtrack. The story, the atmosphere, it's everything extremely dark and oppressive. Those characteristics are typical of Philip Dick's writing, together with the confusion between fantasy and reality that's one of the recurrent themes of his literature.

Well, Vangelis has been able to underline all those elements with his music and this is the best movie soundtrack that I've ever heard. A soundtrack which of course works better having in mind the movie shots, like Deckard bleeding after having killed a replicant while Rachel (Sean Young) watches him from the other side of the road under a neverending rain. What's better than "Blade Runner Blues" to comment it? Only Strauss with "An der schönen blauen Donau" is effective in the same way on 2001 A Space Odyssey, but of course the music was not commissioned for the movie in that case.

The material in the CD2 is in some cases present in the movie but discraded from the first soundtrack's release, in some cases was just composed and not used for the movie as well, but in both the cases it maintains the dark and oppressive flavor of this pre-cyberpunk movie. This is the good of the 3rd CD. Original tracks composed for this new edition. A discutible choice from a commercial point of view but a great listening pleasure as well. If Mike Oldfield can release a sequel of Tubular Bells', why shouldn't Vangelis add a disc to Blade Runner?

However as I have rated the original album with 5 stars I don't see a reason to do differently for this boxset. The price only, at the time of the release, was the negative factor.