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Второй свой альбом бывший клавишник Yes, решивший полностью посвятить себя сольной карьере, сделал в виде музыкального пересказа романа Жюля Верна «Путешествие к центру Земли», с некоторыми сюжетными отличиями. Записан было все живьем при помощи рок-группы, Лондонского симфонического оркестра и Английского камерного хора, и инструментальная музыка, под которую декламируется текст романа, сменяется здесь четырьмя песнями. После приветственных аплодисментов следует, как водится, увертюра – звучит торжественная музыка и вокализы женского хора. После этого нам представляют первую песню – балладу «The Journey», больше бы подошедшую для какого-нибудь мультфильма. Вокала два – сначала звучит высокий и очень мягкий (Гэри Пикфорд-Хопкинс), потом добавляется еще и второй – более низкий (Эшли Холт), и оба мне не особо нравятся; в лирике говорится о двух людях, отправившихся в путешествие и проникших внутрь вулкана. Вновь появляется хор, и все звучит жутко пафосно. Наконец в дело вступает рассказчик, актер Дэвид Хеммингс, с четким британским литературным произношением повествующий о том, как под землей профессор Отто Лиденброк и его спутники, племянник Аксель и их проводник, исследуют галереи в поисках прохода, ведущего к центру Земли. В романе повествование ведется от лица Акселя, на альбоме же рассказ идет от третьего лица. Текстовые фрагменты периодически сменяются инструменталами – точнее говоря, музыка звучит все время, просто когда голос рассказчика смолкает, музыка перестает быть фоном, а нашему вниманию обычно предстают неплохие соло (клавишные, гитара) и/или вокализы хора, которые довольно неплохо иллюстрируют описываемые события, хотя ничем оригинальным, в принципе, не блещут. Следуя по одному из тоннелей, герои обнаруживают водный поток, однако каким-то образом разделяются. Аксель, оставшийся один, охвачен паникой, однако он может слышать голос дяди, проходящий по стенам на расстояние в четыре мили, и решает вновь присоединиться к нему. Отлично звучит инструментал на гитарной основе, предваряющий «Recollection» – следующую песню, красивую, но опять достаточно пафосную благодаря хору, оркестру и двум вокалам; здесь Аксель вспоминает о том, как прекрасна жизнь на Земле, о том, что там его ждет невеста и друзья. Последние две строчки повторяют первую композицию. Герои наконец добираются туда, куда они хотели, – в странный мир, где до них не бывал ни один человек. Пафос достигает своей кульминации в мощно звучащем оркестре и хоре, после чего первая сторона пластинки заканчивается.
Вторая сторона начинается со звуков моря и рассказа о том, как наши герои соорудили плот и пять дней плыли по океану, пока не увидели битву двух морских чудовищ – ихтиозавра и плезиозавра. После этого следует невероятно глупая с точки зрения лирики песня об этом самом событии, которая так и называется – «The Battle». Только послушайте эти призывы «Спасите меня», с которыми обращаются к нам то вокалисты, то женский хор, то они вместе. Слушается жутко смешно, хотя по идее рассчитывали на совершенно противоположный эффект. Но вернемся к повествованию. Героев застал штиль, и они стали ждать шторма. Музыкальную иллюстрацию этого шторма, начинающуюся с внезапного вступления клавишных, можно считать одним из лучших моментов альбома, и тревожно звучащий хор здесь как раз к месту. Шторм длился четыре дня, пока путешественников не выбросило на берег. Здесь они обнаружили лес, а также примитивное человекообразное существо – протея. Звучит последняя (и слава богу!) песня на альбоме – «The Forest», описывающая то, что увидели в этом лесу герои повествования. По-моему, это самое большое попсовое убожество, которое только можно услышать. Здесь уже вокал и хор звучат не просто смешно, а откровенно раздражают. Герои в конце концов выбираются обратно на поверхность Земли возле Этны (у Жюля Верна это был вулкан Стромболи). Завершается альбом инструменталом – сначала звучит музыка, иллюстрирующая путешествие героев, потом тема из Грига, «В чертогах подземного короля» (Боже, сколько рокеров ее использовали в своих произведениях – не пересчитать!), ну и в конце своеобразное экстро, повторяющее одну из музыкальных тем начала.
Как бы я ни любил Рика Уэйкмана и Жюля Верна, но рассказчик как-то бесстрастен, музыка получилась местами очень уж помпезной и пафосной (что стало характерно почти для каждого из его сольных альбомов), а песни тут вообще ни к селу ни к городу и только портят неплохие впечатления от инструменталов. Возможно, тогда это звучало неплохо, но сейчас… Вот для диснеевского мультфильма с таким сюжетом это все могло подойти, а так… Ну, не получилось у Рика Уэйкмана сделать удобоваримой достаточно хорошую идею. Впрочем, аплодисменты, которыми в конце награждают его и всех тех, кто участвовал в записи альбома, зрители и одновременно слушатели, он вполне заслужил.
Кстати, спустя 25 лет Рик решил выпустить продолжение данного альбома, пригласив к его записи очень много известных музыкантов, однако это уже другая история. Даже не буду говорить, получилось ли у него лучше. Всему свое время. |
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“Descend into the crater of Sneffels Yokul, over which the shadow of Scattaris falls before the Kalends of July, bold traveller, and you will reach the centre of the earth. I have done this.” Arne Saknussemm.
Sneffels is a 5,000’ high mountain in Iceland, an extinct volcano, its last eruption having being in 1229. And so the journey from Hamburg to Iceland began.
The Journey
By horse, by rail, by land, by sea, our journey starts
Two men incensed by one man’s journey from the past
In Iceland, where the mountain stood with pride
They set off with their guide
To reach the mountain side
Roped as one for safety through the long descent
Into the crater of volcanic rock they went
Look up from our telescopic lair,
One star for us to share,
We continue on our prayer.
Crystals of opaque quartz, studded limpid tears,
Forming magic chandeliers, lighting blistered galleries.
Narration:
Admiring shades of lava, which imperceptibly passed from reddish brown to bright yellow, their way lit by crystals appearing as lighted globes, they continued through the lava gallery which gently sloped until they reached the intersection of two roads. Without hesitation, Professor Lidenbrock chose the eastern tunnel. And the journey continued, through a succession of arches appearing before them as if they were the isles of a Gothic cathedral. The walls were enhanced with impressions of rock weeds, and mosses from the Silurian epoch.
[Instrumental]
Narration:
The eastern route they had taken had come to a dead end. With three day’s walk back to the fork to find Arne Saknussemm’s original route, they found their water rations were limited to one day. Knowing their only chance of finding water was on that route, they set off for the fork, and there, finally, they fell, almost lifeless on the third day. After sleep, they continued down the other tunnel in their quest for water. And while searching on his own, Hans, the guide, heard the sound of water thundering behind a granite wall, and with a pick axe, attacked the wall so as to allow a stream of boiling water to enter and cool in their tunnel. Not only had they found life in the water, but they had also found a flowing guide to the centre of the earth. They called the stream the Hansbath.
[Instrumental]
Narration:
Replenished with the water, the journey continued with haste, but somehow they found themselves separated. Professor Liden-brock’s nephew, Axel, found himself alone. His mind was seized with unparalleled fear, and he saw memories of home flash-ing before him. His fiancée, Grauben. His house and friends in Hamburg. He saw hallucinations of all the incidents of the jour-ney. And unworthy as he felt, he knelt in fervent prayer. And then in panic he ran blindly through a tunnel, only to reach a dead end, where he fell panting for breath. In the darkness, he cried. Voices. Voices. Voices. He heard voices. He heard his uncle’s voice. Due to the shape of the gallery and the conducting power of the rocks, his uncle’s voice was uncannily traveling around the walls. And by means of their chronometers, they discovered they were four miles apart. So Axel set about the task of re-joining the Professor and their guide.
Recollection
Memories of a life on earth go flashing past,
Of home, of Grauben, friends of whom he’s seen his last
Contemplating what his life’s been worth,
While trapped beneath the earth,
An embryo at birth
Pain and fear destroy the beauty I have seen,
Of caverns, where no other man has ever been
Silurian epoch hosts me as my grave,
My final bow I wave,
A life too late to save
Crystals of opaque quartz, studded limpid tears,
Forming magic chandeliers, lighting blistered galleries.
Narration:
Suddenly the ground disappeared from beneath his feet. He fell down a vertical shaft, his head hitting a sharp rock. He lost consciousness. On opening his eyes, he found himself with the Professor and the guide. And looking around him, he saw an ocean, stretching as far as the eye could see. A giant forest of mushrooms. A line of huge cliffs. And strange clouds hung over-head as he lay on a deeply indented shore of golden sand strewn with shells. For a moment he thought he was back on the sur-face of the earth. But he soon realized that they had reached a world within a world.
[Instrumental]
Narration:
Having made a raft from wood taken from the giant mushroom forest, with rigging consisting of a mast made of two staves lashed together, a yard made of a third, and a sail borrowed from their stock of rugs, they set sail from the harbor, Port Grauben, named after Axel’s fiancée. With a north-westerly wind propelling them along at about three miles an hour, silvery beams of light reflected here and there by drops of spray, produced luminous points in the eddy created by the raft. Soon, all land was lost of view. But five days out to see, they witnessed a terrifying battle between two sea monsters. One having the snout of a porpoise, the head of a lizard, and the teeth of a crocodile, an Ichthyosaurus, and the other, the mortal enemy of the first, a serpent with a turtle shell, a Plesiosaurus.
The Battle
Five days out on an infinite sea,
They prayed for calm on an ocean free,
But the surface of the water was indicating some disturbance.
The raft was hurled by an unseen source,
Two hundred feet, with frightening force,
And a dark mass rising showed to be a giant porpoise
Rising out of the angry sea,
Towered the creature’s enemy,
And so the two sea monsters closed for battle
Crocodile teeth, lizard’s head,
Bloodshot eye, stained ocean red
Battle won, a victor’s pride,
The three men thanked the Lord and cried,
[Moving close to their raft’s side,
The three men prayed as one and cried,]
“Save me, save me, save me, save me”
Save me, save me, save me, save me
The serpents fight went on for hours,
Two monsters soaring up like towers,
And diving down to the depths in a single motion
Suddenly, the serpent’s head
Shot out of the water bathed in red
And the serpentine form lay lifeless on the ocean
Crocodile teeth, lizard’s head,
Bloodshot eye stained ocean read
Battle won, a victor’s pride,
The three men thanked the Lord and cried,
“Praise God, praise God, praise God, praise God.”
Narration:
Cumulus clouds formed heavily in the south, like huge wool packs heaped up in picturesque disorder. Under the influence of the breezes, they merged together, growing darker, forming a single menacing mass. The raft lay motionless on the sluggish, waveless sea. And in silence, they waited for the storm.
[Instrumental]
Narration:
For four days the storm had raged, as they clung to the mast of their raft for safety. Finally, with their raft wrecked, after being bashed against the reefs, they lay sheltered from the pouring rain beneath a few overhanging rocks where they ate and slept. The next day, all trace of the storm had disappeared, and what remained of their stock seemed intact. But checking the com-pass brought only heartbreak, as it showed that a change of wind during the storm had returned them to just a few miles north of Port Grauben. So deciding to try and find the original route, they advanced with difficulty, over granite fragments mingled with flint, quartz, and alluvial deposits, eventually reaching a plane covered with bones, like a huge cemetery. A mile further on, they reached the edge of a huge forest made up of vegetation of the Tertiary period. Tall palms were linked by a network of inextricable creepers. A carpet of moss covered the ground. And the leaves were colorless, everything having a brownish hue. Exploring the forest, they discovered a herd of gigantic animals, mastodons, which were being marshaled by a primitive human being, a proteus. He stood over twelve foot high, and he brandished an enormous bough. A crook worthy of this antediluvian shepherd.
The Forest
Journey on through ages gone,
to the centre of the earth
Past rocks of quartz and granite,
which gave mother nature birth
Burial ground of ancient man,
his life no more is seen,
A journey through his time unknown,
I wonder where he’s been
Wonder where he’s been
Wonder where he’s been
Wonder where he’s been
The shore now gone behind the hills,
a forest in our sight,
Rocks and distant mountains,
bathed in waves of blinding light
Forests from a far gone time,
no living man has seen,
A private prehistoric world,
for you and I a dream
Brownish hue dictates my eye,
no colours hide their fear,
Flowers faded, dull and cold,
now bleached by atmosphere
Creatures twisting under trees,
huge monsters soaked with rage
Hidden deep below our earth,
a frightening, bygone age
Their shepherd came, now long extinct,
a huge primeval man
The three men filled with disbelief,
just turned as one and ran.
Narration:
Done with astonishment and amazement which bordered on stupefaction, they fled the forest. Instinctively, they made towards the Lidenbrock Sea. Discovering a rusty dagger on the beach and the carved initials of the explorer before them on a slab of granite, they realized that they were once again treading the route of Arne Saknussemm. Following a short sea journey around a cape, they came ashore where a dark tunnel plunged deep into rock. And venturing down, their progress was halted by a piece of rock blocking their way. After deciding to blow their way through and setting the charge, they put out to sea for safety.
With the explosion, the rocks before them opened like a curtain, and a bottomless pit appeared in the shore. The explosion had
caused an earthquake. The abyss had opened up, and the sea was pouring into it. Down and down they plunged into the huge gallery, but on regaining their senses, found their raft rising at tremendous speed. Trapped in the shaft of an active volcano, they rose through the ages of man, to be finally expelled out on a mountainside riddled with tiny lava streams. Their journey was completed, and they found themselves three thousand miles from their original starting point in Iceland. They had entered by one volcano, and they had come out by another. With the blue mountains of Calabria in the east, they walked away from the
mountain that had returned them, the frightening Mount Aetna.
[Instrumental]
Journey to the centre of the Earth!