Big Big Train's vocalist's epic solo project
Depending on your view, this is either an album of intense self-discovery or immense vanity. It's undoubtedly a deeply personal project. Filkins weaves family history from his great-grandfather's seafaring to his grandmother's love for a cuppa, with varying musical inspirations. It draws on the greater English experience: war, the sea, nostalgia, to create something that sounds much grander than its humble origins.
Beginning, ideally, with Are You Sitting Comfortably?, a nod to Floyd's Alan's Psychadelic Breakfast, with the strains of Jerusalem interspersed with whistling kettles, like Ray Davies' interpretation of a Hovis advert. The English Eccentric bears the true character of the album. Slamming sharply into ELP-style synths begins a musical mish-mash of influences that is the real heritage behind the music. The lyrics and vocals could easily be Genesis-era Gabriel and the folk touches a sly nod to Tull. Boiled down, it's descriptive poetry to classic prog.
Things get darker the deeper you go. The two part Prisoner of Conscience focuses on those great English characters The Soldier and The Ordinary Man. Glancing across shimmering Indian scales reminiscent of colonial sieges to the heavy bombing guitars of The Soldier, it rakes up that detached sadness Waters and Townsend obsess over. In stark contrast, The Ordinary Man is all harmony and introspection.
The epic 5-part Epitaph For a Mariner is progressive marmite. This old-style B-side is in turns incredibly engaging and frustratingly cliched. Slicing through influences like they were never in fashion, one minute ethereally cooing, the next Jarre-esque buzzing, and into Yes's sweeping soundscapes. Mercifully, it ends with the mellow Learn How To Learn.
War and Peace... is comfortable territory for proggers but definitely heavy going for the less patient. It's so niche, you have to visit Filkins' website to find it, little prog gem that it is.