Gig 020 Van der Graaf Generator
Van der Graaf Generator
19 November 1976
Oxford New Theatre
‘Theeeese daaaaays IIIII mainlyjusttalktoplantsanddogs,
Aaaaall huuuuuumaaaan contactseemspainful,risky,odd’
Thus begins Meurglys III (The Songwriters Guild), a 21-minute song about the narrator’s titular guitar, which is his only friend. ‘Meurglys III, he’s my friend, the only one that I can trust […] I suppose he’ll have to do.’ It takes up most of side 2 of World Record, the 1976 album by Van der Graaf Generator. Not the most accessible tune, the verse appears to be in 22/8 time, or 4 bars of waltz followed by one 10-beat bar, if that’s possible. About 5 minutes in it switches to a mawkish lament in slow 4/4, followed by a melodic but increasing dissonant instrumental section, then a descending sequence which seems to be another 22/8 section but this time it’s a bar of 6, two 5s, then another 6 (which might be a quick 12 in a different rhythm altogether). An abrupt stop then we’re into a faster skronky 21-bar (5,5,5 and 6) instrumental section, slipping back into a reprise of the slow and mawkish 4/4 section. Then, after about 13 minutes, it turns into cod-reggae with no bass. Not surprised you haven’t got any friends mate.
Actually I really liked VdGG, they were so defiantly cranky, unafraid to push the boundaries of listenability; punk but not as we know it, and it later turned out Johnny Rotten was a fan. There was also that thing you get with free jazz when something beautiful emerges out of the skronk and it’s an exhilarating moment. They had odd instrumentation and numerous very long songs, but also melodic gems like House With No Door and the hymn-like Wondering, and the cod’s eye view of romance which is Killer. Peter Hammill’s vocal technique is extraordinary, declaiming rather than singing. It took me a while to pin it down but his vocal contortions sound very much like Frankie Howerd. Unfortunately once you’ve heard that similarity, it’s difficult to unhear it.
I think this was another gig where we had tickets for the gods but snuck into the empty seats in the stalls. Hammill was a great live performer, a tall, thin, elegant man totally possessed by the performance, his entire being seemingly wracked with exorcising the intrinsic anguish of the song. It was a compelling performance, in part because the complex arrangements were combined with a spirit of improvisation which suggested the whole musical edifice might collapse at any moment. There was a parping sax and no bass guitar, creating an appealingly odd lopsided vibe. Apart from the aforementioned Meurglys III I don’t remember exactly which songs they performed, though they weren’t in the crowd-pleasing business so didn’t do Killer, which may have been their best-known tune.
We went backstage and I remember Hammill being quite friendly in the vaguely distracted manner of a dissolute aesthete. If I had his autograph it’s long-since lost.
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