Prog Rock

Much as the British Invaders adopted Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley's chunky guitar riffs, the U.K.'s prog rockers, like Yes, ELP, and Genesis, embraced the early squeaks and bleeps of Moogs and Mellotrons, coupling them with Kesey and Kerouac's mind-bending philosophy. Consider Genesis' "Dancing with the Moonlit Knight," which tackles citizenship, gluttony, mythology, capitalism, and death — all couched in a King Arthur-era parable. Pink Floyd ponders a more personal topic — biting the big-business industry hand that fed them (and fed them a line) — in their spacey, bluesy "Have a Cigar." But Yes' "Roundabout," with its dazzling keyboard pyrotechnics, finger-tangling guitar riffs, totally impenetrable lyrics, and flat-out breathtaking finish, takes the belt as prog rock's heavyweight-champ track.

Meanwhile, our Next Steps reveals the Brits' far-flung musical cousins taking notice…

Prog was just too big to be contained on a tiny island in the North Atlantic, as rockers worldwide gained access to its excess. "Hocus Pocus" got sucked through some Dutch Krazy Straw concept of prog rock and emerged as a Bizarro-world, weirdly magnetic tune, complete with yodeling and an accordion solo - by far the genre's most peculiar worldwide hit. Canadian power-prog trio Rush kicks off their "Farewell to Kings" in suitably frilly-jacketed baroque style before dropping their doublets and transforming into hardcore rockers. And even at home, Styx leaped into the breach, giving America a first-division prog powerhouse, as you can hear in the guitar-synth face-off on the title track from The Serpent Is Rising.

In Deep Cuts, we'll see how prog rock could pack its otherworldly lures in both big and small packages.

Renaissance emerged (as did Led Zeppelin) from the ashes of the Yardbirds, and (unlike Zep) was fronted by a female vocalist with a three-octave range. Their marathon-length "Day of the Dreamer" features not only her celestially crystalline vocals, but also a mid-section pulse-quickening keyboard extravaganza. At the spectrum's opposite end, Henry Cow takes just over two minutes to pack a beginner's course in surrealist music into their free-jazz-influenced "Bittern Storm Over Ulm." With a lineup consisting of future Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, and Deep Purple members, the unjustly underappreciated Trapeze, whose "Seafull" closes out our playlist, was among the first to unite the worlds of prog rock and metal, paving the way for the likes of Rush…and Spinal Tap.

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. In fact, some magnum opuses rolled on for an entire album side, or beyond. But counterbalancing the occasional — well, regular — excess was a level of sheer musicianship unrivaled at any other time in rock history, and a charmingly naive eagerness to slip the bonds of earth and gaze into the endless universe beyond.