Progressive Rock

Mind-bending philosophy, virtuoso guitar-keyboard face-offs, funky hybrid mythology, odd medieval obsessions, weird hair . . . pray welcome, serfs and serfettes, to the epic province of progressive rock. Much as the Stones and the Beatles adopted Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley's chunky guitar riffs, our prog rockers — including Yes, ELP, and Genesis — embraced the early squeaks and bleeps of Moogs and Mellotrons, coupling them with mind-bending philosophy. "Roundabout" by Yes, with its dazzling keyboard pyrotechnics, finger-tangling guitar riffs, totally impenetrable lyrics, and flat-out breath-taking finish, takes the belt as prog rock's heavyweight-champ track. Thus was prog born out of '60s British psychedelia, and the movement starts to expand outwards, into the universe, in Next Steps.

Before prog-rock was (almost fatally) savaged by punk in the mid-'70s, the household stereo opened up a future-past of limitless possibilities . . . and the Canterbury Sound found itself in the ascendant, developed by Soft Machine, who lifted their name from the novel by William Burroughs and pushed rock into previously unexplored territory — this collector's version of the Robert Wyatt composition "Moon in June" comes from a live recording made in the Netherlands in 1970. The roots of Gryphon can be found in the Royal College of Music, hence the mind-blowing arrangements on "Opening Move" from 1974's chess-themed masterpiece, Red Queen to Gryphon Three. Prog moves into stylish Italian horror cinema, and conquers the lofty heights of global stadium rock, in Deep Cuts.

Most of us first access prog through the front door of charting mega-bands like Asia ("Here Comes the Feeling"), but there's a huge stash of good gear in the vaults. Renaissance emerged (as did Led Zeppelin) from the ashes of the Yardbirds, and (unlike Zep) was fronted by a female vocalist (Annie Haslam) with a three-octave range. Their marathon-length "Running Hard" — the opening track on 1974's Turn of the Cards — features not only her celestially crystalline vocals but a grand, classically rooted piano intro. Fans of Italian horror movies will already know about Goblin, Dario Argento's soundtrack band of choice, and here they lure us into "Black Forest" from Suspiria.

Intricate as a snowflake's structure, heavier than a neutron star, progressive rock (unlike most other classic rock) was located firmly in the body's upper half. Performed by flaxen-maned keyboard wizards inhabited by Bach's ghost, guitar sorcerers who approached their instruments with a neurosurgeon's finesse, percussive brutes who flailed at stage-spanning kits, and angel-voiced singers weaving tales of unicorns, gnomes, or some other profound revelation, prog rock was home to the eight-minute single. While there's no point getting too heavy about prog (silly trousers, huge reserves of pretension and leanings into cosmic nonsense are all part of the appeal) we're definitely here to worship, so lets celebrate our unworthiness in the face of Rick Wakeman's keyboard sorcery ("Jane Seymour") and the Dutch yodelling virtuosity of Focus ("Hocus Pocus"). Prepare your ears: this is prog rock.