I need to offload this one fast; it's been praying on my mind awhile... timely as I must keep this choice and the next out of my Top 50 just in case the Style Police come a calling...
I can hear the giggles and am already anticipating the inevitable chinese burns and wedgies that this will prompt, but I have to be honest about my past imperfect as I sit here, rubbing at the damned spot of pre-adolescence. This album is a bit like that pair of turquoise cowboy boots that you keep at the back of the wardrobe for that moment when they surely must come back into fashion...
I vividly remember weeping (dear reader) when the, frankly ridiculous, beer swilling caped crusader that is Rick Wakeman left to go solo.
Anyone remember his string of concept albums?
'The Six Wives of Henry VIII'?
'Journey to the Centre of the Earth' that was perfumed on ice?
There was always a 'concept' in those days...
Meanwhile, back in bonkersville; I haven't got a clue what Jon Anderson was wailing on about, but when he hits the "seasons will pass you by, I get up, I get dooooown' bit on the title track I still get a bit giddy.
This profound nonsense was forever mapped in my memory by the brilliant landscapes of the otherworldly Roger Dean album covers as much as by the exhilarating, magnificently meaningless music that came from within the gatefold.
Concepts and climaxes; what's not to love?