There’s absolutely no reason why pop music writers should not attempt to compose large-scale orchestral works, and I applaud Tony Banks for making the effort. The problem, though, is that this “suite” is not orchestral music at all. Indeed, calling it a “suite” is pushing it, at least to the extent that this suggests even a loose organizational strategy. This is nothing more than a selection of tunes of varying levels of attractiveness orchestrated in the most puerile, “easy listening” style by one Simon Hale, whose work gives no indication of why the music requires an orchestra to sound best. The frequent recourse to the ready-made effects of the hack orchestrator–bell trees and other similar sound effects, suspended cymbals in crescendo, busy string ostinatos, concertante piano interruptions for no discernible reason–renders what may be some potentially decent ideas positively insipid. This isn’t entirely Hale’s fault: presumably Banks approves of this as representing his “intentions” and finds the resultant collection of sonic clichés meaningful.
But wait! Isn’t this the reaction of the typical classical music snob? Well, yes and no. I played this disc for a friend of mine with no interest in (or real knowledge) of the classics, just to get an honest reaction from a “normal” person. His first thought at the start of Spring Tide, the piece that opens the suite, was “it’s pretty”. And so it is. But after two minutes he asked me, “How long does this go on?” When I told him 10 minutes, his reply was, “You’re kidding, right?” Then he asked me, assuming that this was “classical” music and therefore antediluvian, who the composer was and when he died. I said, “Tony Banks, of the progressive rock band Genesis, and he’s not dead yet.” He said, “What’s progressive about this? It sounds like it was written a hundred years ago.”
This spontaneous reaction I think points a finger directly to where the problem lies: Banks’ music has no defining sense of time, place, or style, and therefore has no coherent formal language. His entire structural unit is “the tune”. There’s nothing beyond that. Despite the imposing titles (Black Down, The Gateway, The Ram, Earthlight, Neap Tide, The Spirit of Gravity), this mostly pleasant, uneventful wash of sound not only has no inherent orchestral qualities, but there’s also no discernible relationship between the movements, no reason why they should be arranged or grouped as they are, and no obvious expressive purpose that would give us a sense of why Banks has bothered with them in the first place. “Progressive rock” means (or meant) something a couple of decades ago; Genesis had an identity (and my college roommate was an addict so I know that identity very, very well). This doesn’t.
If Banks wants to make a similar statement in the field of orchestral music, then let him take the time to learn how to write for an orchestra, to conceive ideas best expressed in that medium, and to set them himself, as best he can. Even bad orchestration would be better than this bland, soulless stuff. The performance as such sounds perfectly fine and is very well recorded; the London Philharmonic does a thoroughly creditable job under Mike Dixon. I don’t think Naxos was wrong to go for this project; Banks has a following and his fans may enjoy it. It all depends on one’s expectations and who the target audience is. More interesting to me is the question of whether or not Banks wants to be taken seriously as a composer in this very challenging medium, or whether having purchased the services of a “professional” orchestrator he believes that this is where his musical responsibility ends. Time will tell.
