DAVID BEDFORD

This album sounds like a recording of someone trying to pretend to be able to play the piano with no musical knowledge. The record starts off with promising organ chords, but then something goes wrong. You hear a bunch of unrelated piano parts on top of each other with notes interfering and not making sense at all. Then, there's this section with random percussion and synth effects. You thought the improv part of Moonchild was tedious? This is something along the lines of that but turned up to 11. And then the off-pianos played by a chimp return back into the spotlight.

In addition to that the cacophony is sprinkled with unfitting narration that has nothing to do with the music. Neither does the narration fit the annoying piano puke nor does this racket illustrate the narration, like a good score in a film or a rock opera. Generally speaking, the whole album is a mix of everything but the kitchen sink, where no element is really fitting.

This is a perfect example of music put into a blender and shattered, then put back together by an amoeba.

'I4A' is the last of David Bedford's tetralogy for Virgin records and also the most consistent. At least (again), "side one" is. With their ingenious twists and turns, these first three tracks have a warm, mildly trippy feel, melded with a gentle and unpretentious pastoral quality, with the sequencer breaking through the textures like rays of rhythmic sunshine. They never fall foul of the crossover hubris of 'Star's End' or of the crowd-pleasing attempts of 'The Odyssey'. Nevertheless, it shares a similar malaise with one of Bedford's previous albums, namely the same running-out-of-steam that bedevilled 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'. Again, it is the first half of the album, or maybe in this case up to the end of the first track of "side two" where the interest lies.

"Side two" (tracks 4-6) as a whole is a bit of a let down. 'First Came The Lion Rider' is not so bad, if a little bit lightweight. It is jolly, decorously arranged and very well played (including some lovely oboe and french horns) and with an excellent solo by Mike Ratledge, but once that fades out, the wheels really come off. The title track is just Mike Oldfield being Mike Oldfield for six tedious minutes to no purpose whatsoever. The finale (a piece written for and played by the Leicestershire Schools Orchestra), though better than that, is from another sound-world entirely. Apart from the appearance of the original theme, neither of these last two tracks seems to belong with the rest.

Rating: "side one" 5 stars; "side two" 2.5 stars

Postscript: Where to Find the Best of Bedford

'The Tentacles of the Dark Nebula' (1969) sung by Peter Pears (Decca), never released on CD, but available on YouTube

'Star Clusters, Nebulae and Places in Devon' (1971) by the London Philharmonic Orchestra (Voiceprint)

'The Golden Wine is Drunk' (1974) on 'English Choral Music' by the Netherlands Chamber Choir (Globe)

'Fridiof Kennings' (1980) on 'First & Foremost' by the Apollo Saxophone Quartet (Decca)

and from the four albums for Virgin Records:

'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner', part one only;

'Circe's Island' from 'The Odyssey';

and

'Instructions for Angels "side one" only.

Alas, as an album, it doesn't really work. There are some decent enough tunes ('King Aeolus', 'The Phaeacian Games'), some pleasant enough textures ('The Sirens'), but is "enough" enough? Mr Bedford was by all accounts less than happy with the results and one has the sneaking suspicion that he had reluctantly bowed to pressure to be a bit more commercial. Needless to say, Mike Oldfield turns up, twice in fact - first time bad, second time good - as he was clearly a selling point in those days.

'The Odyssey' sits at the end of Prog's golden period, just as punk cynicism came and spoiled everything. Compared to, say, The Damned's 'New Rose' or the first Clash album, it must have seemed very tame fare, breathing the air of private school privilege rather than gobbing in the face of authority. ('The Odyssey' is hardly unique in that regard, but the Ommadawnish full-beard head shot on the front cover adds a distinct touch of yesteryear. The BBC 'Omnibus' programme about Bedford's 'Song of the White Horse' made the following year began with Bedford shaving off said beard, bidding adieu to the 70s two years early.)

So why if 'The Odyssey' is not that good does it get a four star rating? Simply because the album has one superb track which transcends its historical moment. 'Circe's Island' is a stunning piece of music: creepy yet seductive, with ethereal voices, an incongruous yet highly effective slide guitar (Andy Summers) and a hypnotic synthesiser sequence, all backed by tuned wine glasses. It is one of the strangest and yet most beautiful creations that 70s prog has to offer. It's just such a shame that none of the rest of the album can match it.

Ratings: Circe's Island: 5 stars; everything else: 3 stars

Mr Bedford tends to be overlooked in the history of Prog. This is understandable as he was often a collaborator or arranger, rather than someone whose priority was making Prog albums of his own. His focus was on his serious, avant-garde "classical" compositions (though it's debatable whether his classical compositions from the late 70s onwards were avant-garde at all) and latterly on works for school and community projects. His Prog-cred is further muddied by the fact that his Virgin albums are a real mixed bag: sometimes very, very good indeed, and sometimes decidedly underwhelming. His first for Virgin Records,'Star's End' was a very unsuccessful cross-genre marriage. The orchestral writing is interesting enough, but Mike Oldfield's guitar sound doesn't blend with it at all (and his long solo near the end of part one is excruciating).

Thankfully, 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' was a much more successful entity (and, sans orchestra, no doubt a lot cheaper to make.)

Part One. The album starts straightforwardly enough, with a simple rendition of a basse-danse by 16th century Flemish composer Tielman Susato (which reappears in various guises throughout the album). However, once that's over, we are in very different territory. Part one builds slowly into something eerie and ominous, perfectly capturing the sense of dread of Coleridge's poem. It is beautifully paced and totally original, helped no end by Robert Powell's clipped and sparse narration. Without attempting a blow-by-blow account of the narrative, part one captures the mood of the original text perfectly.

Part Two. The division between parts one and two of 'TRotAM' exemplifies a division in David Bedford's career as a whole. Part one is perhaps closer to some of his compositions of the 60s and early 70s, whereas part two is more akin to the melodic style of his later work. It starts with Mr Powell showing off his superior reading chops again, but after a few minutes of expectant calm, the guest star (Oldfield - who else?) turns up. He solos for about 5 minutes to fill up some time, there's a brief return to the tense sound-world of part one (though less well-executed), then everyone sings a sea shanty (with Mr Oldfield soloing over it of course). Finally, there's a triumphant restatement of the opening basse-danse theme, and we can all go home. It's nice enough, but a bit too normal for its own good, and pales in comparison to part one.

Ratings. Part One: 5 stars. Part Two: 3 stars.

The first track It's Easier Than It Looks is a relatively brief track for eight recorders and eight melodicas. This track was written for young people to perform, but here Bedford has played all sixteen parts. It sounds like an interesting piece, and the eerie feel of the track fits right in with the otherworldly front cover, but without being able to see sixteen people play this together, this number loses a lot of its original appeal.

Just shy of 16 minutes, the longest piece is the title track Nurses Song With Elephants. Written for ten acoustic guitars, this piece goes through many different sections. You may be wondering how the title was chosen. It turns out that the 'elephants' in the song are represented by the rubbing of moist thumbs along the body of the guitar, whilst the 'Nurses Song' refers to the poem by William Blake which is recited towards the end of the piece, when the guitarists start playing more tunefully. It feels like Bedford is rewarding you for your patience, and as an extra treat, Mike Oldfield joins in on bass at the end. However, 16 minutes is still quite long, and one can't help but think that there are better things to be doing with one's time.

The most intriguing track on the record is Some Bright Stars for Queen's College, written for eighty girls' voices and twenty seven plastic pipe twirlers. At 3' minutes, this is another brief eerie track. The girls voices create a liquid sound, and the pipe twirlers in the back (apparently including John Peel) create a spooky backdrop. To those who have seen '2001: A Space Odyssey', this track is very similar to the music played over the coloured light sequence. A very effective piece indeed Mr. Bedford!

At 12 minutes, Trona is simply too long and lacks creativity. The liner notes reveal that the instruments used are a flute, oboe, bassoon, two trumpets, clarinet, two trombones, two violins, viola and a cello. The staccato figure heard near the beginning is heard nearly all the way through the track and gets old very quickly. However, this piece is the closest that I can come to working out what the score looks like, and for that it is interesting.

The final track, Sad and Lonely Faces is the only one written for the record itself. This is easily my favourite for a number of reasons. The structure of the song is an experimental piano piece followed by a symphonic ending with Kevin Ayers reading a poem over the top. His baritone voice sounds amazing here, and he leads the piece and album out beautifully. Strangely enough, an ending as lovely as this seems to make listening to this record absolutely worth it.

To answer my question posed at the beginning of this review: it's been an eye opener. With a fresh mind free of prejudice, I've been able to appreciate this genre more than I ever expected to. However, the parts of this record I enjoy the most are where Bedford isn't being experimental at all, which shows that I've not exactly been converted. If you're willing to try something completely new and different, I'd definitely recommend this album, but if not, you might want to save your money for something closer to home.

When hearing the present album, it is difficult not to think of Oldfield's Herdgest Bells tainted with Eno's Summer's Star or Tangerine's then-current works, and other Virgin label oddities. Often hovering over semi-symphonic ambient music, the album would've been called "new age", had it been released a decade later, but then again, I never fund the present particularly relaxing because it often makes me cringe in horror at the derivative nature of the contents, especially given his previous ventures. This is the kind of album that some would call timeless, but to this writer, it sounds rather dated and cliché, partly because of the technology used on it, but also the supposedly grandiose and pompous matter of the music. No wonder the punk wave would sweep some of that complacent stuff. Don't get me wrong, there are some rather interesting moments, sometimes almost (key word, here) innovative passages, but it's quickly lost in the shuffle.

Don't know if this album sold in significant quantities, but it would turn out to be his second last for a few years, as he will concentrate on producing some electro-pop acts in the 80's. Anyway, The Odyssey is really too derivative for me to appreciate it, but if you're into symphonic- new-agey stuff, this could be up your alley.

After an almost six year break, where he produced early-80's pop music, Bedford returns to his then-abandoned solo career, with another 'grandiose' concept cosmic album that comprises two orchestral sidelong suites, that can be considered a mix of symphonic and avant-garde music the whole thing being sprinkled with a sometimes heavy dose of new age. Actually, given the time of release (early 80's), this is rather surprising a release, given its 'progressive' nature, but then again the mainstream pop current probably didn't give a hoot.

In some ways, the album can easily be the target of ridicule arrows, both on the pop side, but also the prog side, because some of the passages are bloody cheesy and kitsch. But on the whole, I think there is certain amount of respect that comes from this project from both sides, because given the means developed, this was quite a daring bet for release. Not sure Bedford saw immediate financial rewards from this oeuvre, but I'm rather certain he prides himself of the birth of these two pieces. Sometimes close to Kubrick's 2001 soundtrack music, it can go to slightly dissonant lengths (but never shocking), but in general, the listener will remember the choral passages and the symphonic orchestral arrangements to back them up; and let's face it: this is about as fine as it gets, despite its grandiloquent dimension. More than once, you'll also be reminded of Floyd's Atom Heart Mother's title track suite, and that's definitely a compliment.

If I must give the closest Bedford works to the present, I'd no doubt say that Ancient Mariner is the one, but in some ways, we're more between Stars' End and AM, than we are between AM and Odyssey. But Places In Devon is definitely the best place to start on Bedford's musical realm, and in some ways, it is also the pinnacle of his career.

The opening movement is the more difficult half of David's adaptation, often bordering on the discordant and dissonant, with many keyboards interlocking and/or clashing, and Oldfield's strident guitar twitches adding a certain kind of eeriness to the ghostly ambiance. The narration goes on through the album no matter how the gentle or dissonant the musical backdrop is, and even gets magnified by the dramatic dynamics around the second third of the movement, adding a bit more speed to a generally very slow album. The closing movement starts on a few verses before entering a slow church-organ-lead, later joined by Oldfield's gentle guitar and later a female choir taking things ever so gently on the grandiose and lyrical side (despite a certain amount of cheesiness), despite keeping a slightly-dissonant feel throughout most of the movement.

I believe that Bedford's adaptation of Oldfield's TB album attracted him a lot f attention and that, as a result, this album sold lots more than it would've normally, but I'm not sure many mainstream music buffs appreciated it to its just value. Those who actually like narration albums, like Wakeman's Journey To The Centre Of The Earth, might actually love this album, and if not nearly as cheesy as the latter, it's definitely more challenging because of the light dissonance.

Some of the music is played or created by Bedford himself, and while there are many un- credited musicians and singers (on melodicas, recorders, guitars and vocals), but he gets some help from buddies like Kevin and Mike Oldfield, and more surprising DJ John Peel, who released on his own Dandelion label. After the short and dissonant Easier Than It Looks, played with 8 recorders and 8 melodicas (droning in the background), the album veers towards the more accessible (well sort of) guitar realm. Some ten acoustic guitars (The Omega Players) are indeed interlocking and fighting it out, sometimes in gently, sometimes much more indigestibly, but overall it goes down fairly well, especially in the second phase, just before the Elephants passage from hands sliding down the guitar necks; and somewhat later down the track, the sung folk passage over a W Blake poem seems like a welcome, but unrepresentative of the album, resting passage.

Across the slice of wax, some 80 female voices fight it out in the short Some Bright Stars, where space sounds are overwhelmed by 2001-like chitter-chatters from chickens and hens. The 12-mins Trone track is more like totally dissonant contemporary musique concrete (played by the Sebastian Bell Ensemble) and can sound like Stockhausen's followers or something of the genre. The closing Sad And Lonely Faces opens on some difficult piano before Ayers come in for a short poem, softening the piano's propos and Kevin singing to some grandiose classical music ending, which is mostly unrepresentative of the album's general feel.

A good deal of this music was apparently created before Bedford's membership in Kevin's Whole Word, and the least we can say is that it was a lot more "serious" music than Bedford seems to care to remember in the liner notes from the Voiceprint CD reissue. This musical medical treatment is best indicated to avant-prog fans and contemporary music fans, rather to anyone who wants to listen to some prog-light rock. Be warned and this is valid for the following Star's End.