If you click and enlarge the picture you can see good ol’ Charlie Brown pulling out his well-worn vinyl copy of Selling England by the Pound.
Selling England by the Pound – Genesis (released in 1973)
I remember several times as a teenager watching the British comedy show Monty Python’s Flying Circus on my local PBS affiliate. I loved some of the more obvious zaniness and several of the buffoonish skits. However, I always felt that the broader contours of the humor were beyond my grasp. In retrospect, much of Monty Python’s humor was beyond me. The colloquialisms were foreign, the surrealism was unfamiliar to me, and the social situations involving prime ministers, knights, gumboots, vicars, civil servants, and the like were just too…British. I was (and still am) a United States Midwesterner and, while I appreciated the hilarity of the physical humor of silly walks or the “Gumby” skits, it wasn’t until I was older that I realized the deep cynicism lurking behind government grants for silly walks or a statement like, “I would put a tax on all people who stand in water.” Taking something serious (for example, wanton over-taxation) and sending it up through silliness is distinctly British and is something that ended up profoundly shaped my worldview, my sense of humor, and the way I look at things like oppressive governmental entities.
Many newbies to progressive rock probably feel the same bewilderment I felt toward Monty Python when approaching the early albums of the British band Genesis. During the mid-1980s Genesis produced highly accessible music that allowed them to sell millions of records, play worldwide to sold-out stadiums, and shill for Michelob beer. This massive success no doubt sent new fans scurrying for the band’s back-catalogue. What awaited those bandwagon fans was a lot of idiosyncratic music with song titles like “Squonk,” “Robbery, Assault & Battery,” and “Wot Gorilla?” If fans managed to white-knuckle it through those late-1970s albums and worked all the way back to the early-1970s where Genesis was fronted by Peter Gabriel they were greeted by aggressively quirky songs like “Stagnation,” “The Return of the Giant Hogweed,” “Harold the Barrel,” and “Get ‘Em Out by Friday.” Anyone expecting “In Too Deep,” “Invisible Touch,” or even “Sussudio” was in for a rude awakening.
Genesis was a band that formed out of several friendships fostered in the British boarding/public school system. They released an ill-conceived first album in 1969 entitled From Genesis to Revelation that found them sounding much more like a third-rate Bee Gees knockoff than the prog rockers they would become. The band’s first proper album (Trespass) was released in 1970 and reflected a far more progressive rock edge, although in a very undeveloped form. It was followed by Nursery Cryme in 1971, Foxtrot in 1972, and Selling England by the Pound in 1973.
The band’s unusual songs were coupled with a live act that was equally daring. Gabriel regularly appeared on stage wearing bizarre costumes like a bowler hat, a red dress, a fox head, and a flower headdress as he acted out the characters from Genesis’ songs. This combination of highly idiosyncratic music and musical theater showmanship brought the band tremendous notoriety and helped solidify their reputation as an edgy live act.
After the jump I will explore Genesis’ Selling England by the Pound track-by-track.
Dancing with the Moonlit Knight
Selling England by the Pound begins with Gabriel in the role of a herald singing a capella, “‘Can you tell me where my country lies?’ Said the unifaun to his true love’s eyes.” Gabriel’s query is answered: “‘It lies with me!’ cried the Queen of Maybe. For her merchandise, he traded in his prize.” The ideas found in these two lines set the tone for the rest of the album.
Gabriel, in the persona of a “unifaun,”[1] looks around at “his country” (England) and finds it unrecognizable. “Where has ‘my England’ gone?” he asks. The mythical “Queen of Maybe” responds that it lies with her and that the country traded in its prize for “her merchandise.” The glory and honor of England has been traded in for cheap trinkets, thoughtless consumption, and commercialism.[2] This thought is expanded later in the song when Gabriel sings, “Young man says you are what you eat–eat well. Old man says you are what you wear–wear well.” The young man cares about filling his belly, the old man cares about “keeping up appearances.” To both Gabriel responds bitterly, “You know what you are, you don’t give a damn.”
What was true for 1970s Britain is most certainly true in 2014 in America given our culture’s deep love of cheap trinkets, thoughtless consumption, and commercialism. Gabriel’s lament has echoes of Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem in Matthew 23:37: ““O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
From a musical perspective “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight” is as heavy a song as Genesis has ever written. Much of the power for this song is provided by keyboardist Tony Banks haunting use of the Mellotron, Phil Collins’ powerful drumming, and Steve Hackett’s electric guitar work. Prior to Hackett’s inclusion in Genesis, the band’s music tended to be a bit (to use a British term) “twee” and lacking in power. Hackett’s ferocious riffs and deft guitar soloing lifts the song into an atmosphere inhabited by very few Genesis songs.
I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)
Inspired by the painting that graces the albums’ cover, “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)” deals with English life from the perspective of a young groundskeeper who pushes a lawnmower for a living. The fictitious Mr. Farmer tells the young man, “Listen son, you’re wasting your time; there’s a future for you in the fire escape trade. Come up to town” but the groundskeeper is having none of it. He knows what he likes and he likes what he knows. The final lyric finds the groundskeeper reiterating, “Me, I’m just a lawnmower. You can tell me by the way I walk.” The song fades out to the sound of a low note from Banks’ synthesizer meant to emulate the sound of a gas-powered lawnmower.
“I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)” is a musically straightforward progressive rock tune dealing with the perennial topic of deadbeat males not setting their sights any higher than mowing lawns. One can almost hear the autobiographical undertones of a disaffected British youth during the height of Beatlemania enduring repeated questions like, “When are you gonna cut your hair and get a real job?”
Given its uncomplicated music and lyrics, it is not surprising then that the song became the most successful of Genesis’ early catalog, actually reaching number 21 on the UK top singles chart in 1974.
Firth of Fifth
After the comic relief of the previous track the band turns their collective attention back toward Britannia and the desperate situation in which she finds herself. Just as in “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight,” the opening lyrics of “Firth of Fifth” are key: “The path is clear though no eyes can see/The course laid down long before/And so with gods and men the sheep remain inside their pen/Though many times they’ve seen the way to leave.” The lyrics contain echoes of God’s instructions to the prophet Isaiah concerning Israel: “Go, and say to this people: ‘Keep on hearing, but do not understand; keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’”
The music in “Firth of Fifth” features two high water moments from the Genesis early catalog: a virtuoso piano intro from Banks (one that hasn’t been played live since 1974) and a soaring guitar solo from Hackett. Hackett’s solo is framed beautifully by bassist Mike Rutherford’s bass synthesizer pedals, Collins’ propulsive drumming, and another haunting Mellotron performance by Banks.
More Fool Me
The shortest song on the album at 3:10, “More Foot Me” is a simple love song in which Collins sings the lead for the first time in his career with Genesis. The lyrics are quite simplistic and really boil down to the last words of the song, “Do I really believe In your love. Yes, I’m sure it will work out alright.” The song’s music is as simple as the lyrics they surround with a chorus that is quite pleasing with some especially beautiful acoustic guitar work from Hackett. Given the future trajectory of Collins’ solo career as a sensitive 1980s crooner, “More Fool Me” is more than just a little prophetic.
The Battle of Epping Forest
One of two epics over ten minutes on the album, “The Battle of Epping Forest” is the least successful of the two and remains a charming “near miss” in the Genesis oeuvre. The problems with the song exist on two levels. First, there are just too many words. This might sound like a strange accusation to call a prog epic “too wordy,” but in this case the boot fits.
Gabriel’s attempt to pen a tale based on “a news story concerning two rival gangs fighting over East-End Protection rights” features a treasure-trove of bizarre, Monty Python-esque characters: Willy Wright, Harold Demure from art literature, Mick the Prick, Liquid Len, and Bob the Nob. There are more characters in this song than in a typical Wodehouse novel.
The second failure is in the music itself. It fails to match the mood and intensity that might accompany an actual gang fight. One might say that the music is “playing against type” and attempting to “send up” gang-related violence through farce. But I think that is being overly optimistic and that, in the end, too many short pieces were stitched together to create a musical quilt that did not work.
After the Ordeal
As the title implies, “After the Ordeal” is meant as a respite from the “gang-related ordeal” that came before it. It also acts as a bridge between “The Battle of Epping Forest” and the album’s other epic that follows: “The Cinema Show.” “After the Ordeal” is a gorgeous feature for Hackett’s acoustic and electric guitars.
The Cinema Show
“The Cinema Show” is Selling England by the Pound’s second epic and a piece of music that works considerably better than “The Battle of Epping Forest.” The lyrics of the song (written by Banks and Rutherford) are loosely based on a modernized version of Shakespeare’s story of Romeo and Juliet but demonstrate nicely the way that the different sexes view a date at a “cinema show.” Juliet prepares for the date by placing on her skin “pretty smells” with the purpose of “concealing to appeal.” Romeo prepares for the date dressed in a floral tie, his head held high, all the while bearing a “chocolate surprise.” Romeo thinks to himself, “I will make my bed with her tonight.”
Musically, the song features a long section taken up mostly by Banks’ keyboard histrionics. In fact, at just over five minutes the lyrics are done for the entire song and the rest of the song consists of a long instrumental part. Evidently the band thought so highly of the latter half of “The Cinema Show” that, even when the entire song was dropped from the band’s live repertoire, much of the long instrumental section was retained and worked into a medley of other Genesis material.
Aisle of Plenty
“Aisle of Plenty” ends the album and, clocking in at a scant 1:32, it appears to be little more than a throwaway snippet that contains musical themes from earlier in the album. It does act as a fitting bookend to the album as the song recapitulates musical themes from “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight.” However, the song offers some hilarious wordplay with phrases like, “Easy, love, there’s the safe way home” and “Thankful for her fine fair discount, Tess co-operates.” It is easy to miss that Safeway, Fine Fair, and Tesco were all British grocery stores that probably contained “aisles of plenty” in their day. As if to drive the grocery idea home further, the song (and the album itself) ends with the quoting of a list of grocery specials. This also bookends the consumptionist motif that was so prevalent in “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight.”
Overall impression
Many of the members of the first wave of British prog rock were young men who were educated in British public schools, enjoyed an art school secondary education, and were the offspring of World War II veterans. Their homeland had been ravaged by the Nazi advance and many of them either grew up with fathers who survived the war but were wrecked emotionally or grew up fatherless when their fathers never returned from the fighting. It is therefore not surprising that the worldview of so many early British prog rockers contained equal amounts of despair, hopelessness, and a rejection of the “inherent goodness of mankind.” British prog bands like King Crimson, Pink Floyd, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer expended a great deal of lyrical energy raging against the machine with a tortured nihilism.
What Genesis did (especially through Peter Gabriel’s lyrics) was to hold post-war England up to Lewis Carroll’s magical looking glass in order to glimpse the landscape through its warped point of view–much like the members of the Monty Python troupe had done. Whereas progressive rock lyricists like Greg Lake and Roger Waters would react with moral outrage toward a world gone mad, Gabriel would deal with his cynicism mostly through whimsy, farce, and court-jestering. Even when things get serious as they do on songs like “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight” and “Firth of Fifth,” the mood is kept lighter through the use of fictional beings like “unifawns” and larger-than-life characters like the ones found in “The Battle of Epping Forest.”
For the Christian, there is plenty of beauty and goodness to behold in Selling England by the Pound. Unlike the album I featured last week (Close to the Edge by Yes) there is also a great deal of lyrical truth to be found, as well. The true patriot–the one who loves his country enough to confront her folly when she has erred–can easily identify with the protagonist in “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight” Those who despise mindless groupthink are sure to resonate with many of the lyrics in “Firth of Fifth.”
After one more album (the wildly uneven The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway) Gabriel left Genesis to pursue a solo career, Collins would be promoted to the lead singer slot, and the band would go on to even greater heights as a four piece band. Selling England by the Pound remains the crowning achievement of Gabriel-era Genesis and one of the finest progressive rock albums ever made.
Here is a YouTube link for listening to the entire Selling England by the Pound album (probably illegally) online:
1. A “unifaun” is most likely a fawn character wearing some sort of official uniform.
2. When performing “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight” live, Gabriel would appear onstage in character he called “Britannia,” arrayed in a Union Jack costume, a helmet, and carrying a lance. Through the magic of YouTube you can see a video of Gabriel and the band performing the song live in 1973 here.
Recommended track(s): “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight,” “Firth of Fifth,” “The Cinema Show.”
Purchase a copy of the Genesis album Selling England by the Pound on Amazon.
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britain, genesis, greg lake, king crimson, mike rutherford, monty python, peter gabriel, phil collins, pink floyd, roger waters, steve hackett, tony banks
