Memories of Gentle Giant
In 1976, I was a high school
student in Garden City (Long Island), New York and a fan of so-called
"progressive rock" bands like Yes and Emerson Lake & Palmer. I was also
a classically trained keyboardist and had my own rock band, which did
some "prog rock" covers and originals.
That JULY 3, Gentle Giant
performed at our local CALDERONE THEATER in neighboring HEMPSTEAD, as
they did on several other occasions. I saw their name for the very
first time on that theater's marquee and had no idea who they were.
That concert's performance of "Just the Same" was recently included in
the "35th Anniversary Series" re-release of the album "Freehand".
A friend told me, "Since you like
performing songs by Yes and ELP, you owe it to yourself and your musical
education to hear Gentle Giant." He played me the "Freehand" album and
I got hooked for life. Shortly afterwards, I bought "Playing the Fool:
The Official Live" and fell in love with the music even more. As
amazing as they were in the studio, they sounded even better live.
So when they toured to promote
"The Missing Piece", I persuaded my band partner and guitarist (who'd
already mastered Steve Howe's intricacies) to further expand his musical
horizons by seeing Gentle Giant with me at the PALLADIUM in Manhattan's
East Village in NEW YORK CITY on NOVEMBER 5, 1977.
The strangest thing about that
concert was that the opening band was, by contrast, a relatively
primitive rock-n-roll band called "Dr. Feelgood". Far from "feeling
good", the audience of Gentle Giant fans continually booed them. I
could never figure out why so many "prog rock" bands at that time had
such seemingly misplaced opening acts. Gentle Giant was certainly in no
danger of being upstaged that night. Since it was a GG audience, their
response was especially demonstrative when, after what felt like too
long a wait, GG finally took over for "The Doctor".
It was the first time many of us
had heard much of the material performed, which included the mesmerizing
"Memories of Old Days". Gary Green and Ray Shulman's acoustic guitar
duet on "Excerpts from Octopus" was especially memorable, as were their
coordinated gestures and body language during it. And Kerry Minnear's
vibes solo on "Funny Ways" was spellbinding and received possibly the
biggest applause of the night. As always, Derek Shulman was the
consummate showman, and his constant arm movement and hand directions
seemed as unique to him as they were amusing -- particularly when he
pantomimed Kerry's synthesizer solo during "Just the Same"! And, of
course, John Weathers was the glue that held it all together.
The only low point of their show
was when, in the middle of their performance, there was an equipment
failure (shades of the live album's "Breakdown in Brussels") that lasted
indefinitely. But on this occasion, instead of Ray filling in with an
impromptu violin performance of "Sweet Georgia Brown", John tried to
entertain the audience with what was supposed to be a funny story.
Unfortunately, it went on way too long, the audience became irritated
and talkative, and nobody seemed to comprehend or be interested in what
he was saying. I was surprised by this strange diversion and felt sorry
for him as he was literally booed off the stage before finishing!
(Well, what do you expect from a New York audience?) But he appeared to
take it in good stride, even with humor -- and the band, along with
John, was just as rousingly applauded when they overcame their technical
problems and finally resumed their performance.
That concert crystallized GG as my
favorite band, which I went as far as noting in my high school
yearbook. It also inspired me to record a musical commercial for GG as
a project in the school's electronic music class, to the bewilderment of
my classmates. But I always regretted that GG didn't keep in their live
repertoire any of the songs from my favorite album of theirs,
"Interview" (due apparently to its not being as well received by
others.)
My musical partner in the '80s
(Peter Stoller) said that when he'd seen GG live, they'd performed with
a large sign on stage with the word "pretentious" -- a predictable but
unwarranted criticism they'd received from the rock music press. If
there was any band whose musical complexity was more than just
pretentiousness, it was Gentle Giant.
Kerry's work and musical
background was actually a determining factor in my attending music
conservatories instead of a liberal arts college. And I went on to
perform faithful renditions of some of GG's music. When I recently
played the "Giant on the Box" DVD for my musical collaborator, she was
shocked by how much she thought Kerry looked, played and wrote like me.
Apparently his influence was greater than I realized.
Today my original favorites, Yes
and ELP, are musical fossils to me, the Calderone and the Palladium are
long gone, but Gentle Giant remains vital, twenty-five years after they
disbanded. Perhaps because they'd made a point of never trying to be
fashionable, their music had a rawness that never lost its groove or its
honesty, transcending the trappings of that period. (Even later
commercial concessions like "Betcha Thought We Couldn't Do It" and
"Giant for a Day" seemed tongue-in-cheek.) Consequently, their music
has stood the test of time better than, ironically, most of their
contemporaries who achieved far greater commercial success.
-- Adam Levin
www.differentdrummusic.com/adamlevin.htm