The material on the black-covered Volume 1 lp (the cd reissue from 1995 also includes tracks from the less-well recorded Volume 2 lp) constituted progressive rock of staggering brilliance, beautifully engineered and mixed with an enormous sense of space. As with Gentle Giant, the Enid goes far beyond reproducing their album arrangements on stage. Amazingly, they sound even bigger and more orchestral here. The subtlety and delicacy of the keyboard arrangements are far beyond what is found in conventional progressive rock acts. But this is also a magnificent album for enthusiasts of fine guitar playing. Their careful integration into this huge texture comes at no cost to expressiveness. There is a surplus of soaring elation by guitarists Lickerish and Stewart.

One of the prime achievements of the Enid was their telepathic rhythmic cohesion, similar in nature to what a classical string quartet develops over the decades. The power unleashed through this unique skill is hard to resist once familiarity with the music has been established.

The Enid has admitted freely that there are overdubs on the Volume 1 material, including some brass synth to beef up the sound. This doesn't compromise the virtue of this release at all. Clearly, the band were in top form, executing every passage with conviction, precision and absolute certainty of purpose. Dynamic range is extreme. It's a matter of constant amazement how deep and detailed the quietest textures are throughout the performance.

Serious and sincere in artistic intent and immensely accomplished in performance, civilization may never spawn anything like the Enid again.

Happy the Man's first album is one of the greatest prog debuts. Simplicity flirts with playful complexity in a rich sonic environment that promises to reveal infinite new levels of detail if one only had the ears to hear more deeply into it. The music is a jazz-tinged symphonic progressive that summons up a gentle, surrealistic fantasy realm for the listener. Kit Watkins, the star of the recording, establishes himself as the world's most accomplished (and the fastest) Mini-Moog player. His electric piano and string-synth playing always casts a magical haze. Frank Wyatt's woodwinds integrate perfectly with the lush but (amazingly) never-overbearing keyboard textures.

The only drawback to the album is that Stanley Whittaker didn't seem quite ready for the vocal parts on the two tracks with lyrics. They're thin and strained in places where the music demands something more effortless.

Either they were absolutely certain about what they wanted to achieve upon entering the studio or they spent an outrageous number of hours and money achieving the refinement of this recording. Ken Scott's production is awesome and sensitive.

Unparalleled in American progressive rock.

Eight years after the previous Thinking Plague album, _In This Life_, everybody who was waiting for a follow-up had more or less given up. Every year or so, somebody would proclaim that they'd heard from someone that Mike Johnson was almost through recording the new one.

_In This Life_ was attractive to many people because it was
stylistically much like the best RIO bands (Henry Cow, Art Bears, Samla Mammas Manna), but without the brittleness and the tendency for long improvised jams for short wave radio and prepared shopping cart. To be more specific, the short wave radio and prepared shopping cart were there, but woven into really engaging musical structures deliberately and carefully composed. And it also rocked hard. In fact, guitarist/composer Johnson's ability to come up with intense, sometimes brain-shattering sounds and textures and orchestrate them so compellingly gave him an almost Beethovenesque aura.

_In Extremis_ is, if anything, more elaborately constructed than _In This Life_ and seems more of an integrated project. Which is amazing in that it was recorded over such a long period of time. The lyrics seem to deal for the most part with disgust at the state of things and the attempt to
escape all of it. It comes off like the gesticulations of a mad prophet who's not quite sure of his prophesies. The first song, "Dead Silence" immediately introduces the voice of Deborah Perry, replacing _In This Life's_ Suzanne Lewis. Her precise and emotionally detached delivery make a thrilling
contrast to the whirlwind of sound she's embedded in. She often gives the impression of a boy soprano.

Johnson avoids pure major and minor chords...er...like the plague. In fact, this album offers plenty of compelling evidence that atonal chord structures can make sense to the non-theoretically-minded. The music is constantly changing rhythmically, harmonically and texturally. It doesn't stick in one place for long. Everything is made cohesive through obsessive development of tiny melodic motives and rhythmic ideas. What this means is that the first couple listens can be a little bewildering. But as in the best classical music, each listen reveals new details and layers of musical correspondences. Each listen takes you deeper and deeper in.

Fans of _In This Life_'s "Organism" will be interested in track4, "Les Etudes d'Organism," a free fantasy on themes from that tune. Interestingly, a couple minutes in the middle of this song evoke the same kind of underworld carnival atmosphere that people familiar with Mr. Bungle's _Disco Volante_ will recognize. It's followed
however, by one of the album's most beautiful moments, a sublime section of heartbreaking guitar melody over a brooding string bed in 7/4 time. Another fine moment comes at the beginning of the last track "Kingdom Come" which starts with a mindblowing bit of tone painting. A musical tornado consumes the character portrayed by singer Perry, who shrieks in ecstasy "As my body rises, I understand this is paradise!"

There's great playing from all the individual members, but there's little that's off the cuff. They're mostly executing material that's subservient to the compositions. Maverick bassist/producer Bob Drake (5uu's, The Science Group) sings and wrote the lyrics to the impressive extended track "This Weird Wind." Mike Johnson squeezes every kind of sound out of whatever guitar he happens to be playing, choking total anguish out of it at one moment, soaring above the atmosphere in the next. Production quality is magnificent.

With one foot in the 1870's and the other in the 1970's, the Enid refined orchestral rock in a way that ELO, ELP, Kansas et al could only hint at. For some years, conservatory-trained composer/keyboardist Robert John Godfrey had led the band around Britain performing immense romantic tone poems for rock rhythm section, synthesizers, and electric guitars (two of them). What set them apart from the prog status quo was their ability to execute true classical "rubato," that instantaneous give-and-take of tempo that seems completely incompatible with any kind of rock groove. Portions of this album rock more than any previous Enid album, incorporating characteristic virtuoso prog as it had congealed by that time. Outstanding keyboard arrangements and sensational ensemble work serve gorgeous music ranging from the wistful to the mischievous.

Standout tracks include the opener, "Punch and Judy Man," which contrasts masculine, ELP-esque prog rock sections with feminine late-romantic lyricism. An outstanding drum performance makes this required listening for aspiring skin-bashers. "Hall of Mirrors" is a subdued track that erupts into an amazing outburst of emotional guitar wailing. Few times has the electric guitar reached the level of ecstasy it achieves here.

The Enid's music can come off as melodramatic at first, but repeated listening will reveal unforgettable melodies and stunning musicianship.

From the land of Sibelius comes a wondrous work of progressive rock. This is a strange beast, ostensibly a concept album by a band that was obviously in the process of fragmenting. There's no question of collaborative songwriting, as the music for each individual track is decisively written by a single member. However, the album is divided into 5 sets of coupled songs, using the differing writing styles to set up strange but emotionally affecting juxtapositions. Keyboardist (and nimble, soulful co-lead vocalist) Jukka Gustavson took the reins for this album and we should be thankful he was given such complete control over his material. He wrote the largest number of tracks - five, including the two longest pieces, "Pedagogue" and "Prophet." His keyboard arrangements are kaleidoscopic cocktails of Hammond organ, VCS3 synthesizer, and Fender Rhodes. Three songs are by Dylan-informed singer Jim Pembroke. Two are by bassist Pekka Pohjola, who shows a knack for inventive horn arranging in "Planetist." Pembroke is noticably absent from the Gustavson-penned material and is restricted to a spoken voice-over with one of Pohjola's pieces. This calls into question his ability to execute the complex music written by these other members. His tune "Marvelry Skimmer" brings the album to an bittersweet, autumnal close.

The album seems to make a sweeping condemnation of politics in general, advocating the pursuit of inner peace and spiritual fulfillment. It may not come as a surprise that Jukka Gustavson became an ardent Jehovah's Witness in the ensuing years. There are fairly clear stabs at communism and capitalism, but capitalism gets the worst rap.

Although a lot of musical territory is covered, the band's ability to mix and swap between blues-rock, jazz and cerebral classical constructions makes it a confident recommendation for lovers of Dave Stewart Canterbury bands (Egg, Hatfield & the North) and Steely Dan's most progressive moments, such as the title tracks of _Aja_ and _Gaucho_.