RADIOACTIVE TOY

Prog rock bands were kind of like hair bands. They ascended from nowhere and imploded overnight. And one can argue that the pretentiousness killed prog rock, the capes and the multi-sided albums, but unlike hair bands, prog rock did not begin with cynicism, rather it was an exploration, a group of players who knew how to play who decided to test limits, before punk came along as a reaction to all of it and made simplicity a virtue, one can argue that the ability to play has never recovered, it was a badge of honor to be able to not only wail, but noodle, hang together as a band, when Rick Wakeman and Yes peaked they were positively deserving of the attention.

Stunningly, prog rock still survives, but it’s a minor scene, sub-metal, for diehards only, but one of its foremost practitioners is Steven Wilson, most famous for fronting the band Porcupine Tree, and long before they had their ill-fated Lava deal, they were making music deserving attention, and as evidence of this I point to this live rendition of “Radioactive Toy.”

I only discovered it the other night, on my late night hejira through Mr. Wilson’s oeuvre, I searched for the studio take on the plethora of streaming services and all that came up was this live iteration.

“It’s the last song of the evening, it’s called ‘Radioactive Toy.'”

Live recordings usually pale in comparison to the studio versions. Maybe they’ve got more energy, but they fall flat, the instruments don’t soar, there’s not the same atmosphere, but not here.

Run through forests on a hot summer day

Trying to break down walls of numbing pain

Give me the freedom to destroy

Give me radioactive toy

You’re immediately taken away, this is not the immediacy of the Top Forty, this is an aural journey to a distant landscape which only like-minded people inhabit, back when going to the show was a religious experience wherein you paid fealty to the performers, taking photos of yourself and your buddies was anathema. Hang in there until the guitar starts to wail, you’ll be stunned you’re the only one aware of this 1997 rendition of a 1992 original, when Wilson implores the audience to sing along, saying “You!” and everybody comes in on time with the correct words, whew!

(Meanwhile, if you’re interested in the studio original, for some reason it’s not on streaming services, but it is on YouTube:

TRAINS

Having been blown away by this live rendition of “Radioactive Toy,” I decided to go deeper, I decided to see what the most played Porcupine Tree songs on Spotify happened to be. And I was stunned that my personal favorite was number one, with 6,232,614 streams.

Andy Karp had signed Porcupine Tree to Jason Flom’s Lava label. A full service enterprise akin to Bob Krasnow’s Elektra, no two Lava acts sounded alike, they were as different as Kid Rock and Matchbox Twenty and the Corrs and Porcupine Tree.

This was back before streaming, before Bluetooth in cars, before the satellite radio revolution, back when you had a CD changer in the trunk and had your six favorite discs installed, one of mine was Porcupine Tree’s “In Absentia,” I used to pull up “Trains” and drive around L.A. in a trance, nodding my head, singing along.

A TIME FOR EVERYTHING

I don’t believe in remixes. Because by time they’re done redoing the record it no longer resembles the original, and it’s the one I know I want to hear, kind of like some tracks should only be heard in mono, certainly not fake stereo. So when I heard Steven Wilson remixed Jethro Tull’s “Benefit” I shrugged, I did not care.

“Benefit.”

Purists will tell you the best Tull album is the first, “This Was,” with Mick Abrahams. And the funny thing is once you go back to it you see how special it was, I can see fans being turned off by what followed, but I didn’t hear “This Was” first, I got hooked by “Benefit.”

Now at this late date I’ll tell you the best is the second, “Stand Up,” which did, as in when you opened the gatefold cover the band popped up, but I have such memories of “Benefit.”

It started with “To Cry You A Song,” the one the critics hated, because it was not far removed from riff rock. And it was one quite powerful riff, but it was the soundtrack to one of the most frightening moments of my life, the first weekend of college, when John Morosani gave us a ride back from the President’s reception in his Trans Am and slid through the corners at a hundred miles an hour on Route 125, laughing all the way.

I was sitting on the transmission hump in the back, where there was no seatbelt, I saw my life ending before classes had even begun. But I lived through the experience, Moron’s time at driving school paid off. And after removing “Benefit” from the 8-track he inserted Frijid Pink, which I have not heard since, but after that ride I needed to own “Benefit.”

And late at night, long after midnight, when I cannot relax, I oftentimes pull up aged classics on Spotify and wallow in the sound. But what’s fascinating is these records have been reissued and remastered so many times that you oftentimes get hooked on songs you weren’t planning to hear to begin with. Like Elton John’s “Bad Side Of The Moon.”

“Tumbleweed Connection” is a better LP, but at this late date it’s the American debut I keep spinning, it’s the sound, like it was cut in a cathedral, just listen to “Sixty Years On” or “The King Must Die,” you’ll get what I mean. But the remastered version of the American debut has a studio take of “Bad Side Of The Moon,” which most people have never heard but dedicated fans know, because it’s the opening cut on side two of “11/17/70,” one of the four albums Elton put out that year, a live recording that originated as a radio broadcast on that date. The rest of the tracks had been previously released, all except for “Bad Side Of The Moon” and “Can I Put You On.”

But, a studio take of “Can I Put You On” came out, on the soundtrack to “Friends,” with the dynamite title track and…

I work for the foundry for a penny and a half a day

Like a blind street musician I never see those who pay

Now you’re a member of a secret society, you’re one of the very few who’s ever heard this cut, and if you’re an Elton fan you’ll swoon, first and foremost there’s that intro guitar sound, enough to make you feel you’ve died and gone to heaven, and then Elton tickles the ivories and sings about that blind street musician and you feel like you’ve been transported to Newcastle Upon Tyne, even if you’ve never been there before.

And this is what my late night listening is like, I get inspired to hear one record and that leads me to different tracks and that initial Elton album was a staple on my turntable at the same time as I was spinning “Benefit” so I searched for that Tull album and found this Steven Wilson remix. And of course I started with side two, so I could hear “To Cry You A Song,” but it was the following track, “A Time For Everything,” that was the revelation.

Hold on to your hat, grip your seat, put on your headphones and be prepared to be blown away.

First there’s Martin Barre’s stinging guitar, it always got you in the gut, but today you can feel the sting.

And Ian Anderson’s vocal is not buried in the mix, he’s at the center and you can hear every word, along with his flute, and suddenly you realize you can hear each and every instrument and it sounds like the original only more vibrant and more immediate, it’s a REVELATION!

SOSSITY YOU’RE A WOMAN

This is ultimately the best cut on “Benefit,” and you need to listen to it, you need to hear this entire remix of “Benefit,” even the unearthed bonus track “17,” which is dark in a way most people who hate Tull don’t realize is an element of the canon.

“Sossity” is the closest to what came before, what came thereafter was gigantic, “Aqualung” made Tull superstars, and then they pushed the envelope with “Thick As A Brick” and became legends, because that’s what you did back then, you used your success as a platform to innovate, to jump off and do something different.

And if you think these LPs are set in amber, irrelevant, you’ve got to listen to Steven Wilson’s remixes, because he makes them sound like they were cut today, they’re so alive. He demands that Tull be completely reevaluated, and you never would have heard these recordings if it weren’t for streaming services, wallow in your good fortune.