Christmas is coming. It’s the most wonderful time of the year for small children. But for adults, it’s a tall story of peace and goodwill to all men.
Guy Manning is an English multi-instrumentalist who knows all about the snow-white lies we tell to our children and the grubbier ones we tell ourselves. He is a former member of The Tangent, a current member of Damanek and United Progressive Fraternity, and a solo artist with some 15 albums to his name. His debut album, Tall Stories for Small Children, was re-released on vinyl in a special, 25-year anniversary edition on 27th September this year. The album itself isn’t on Spotify, nor is the bonus track on the re-release, but all the tracks on the original 1999 recording are there, and I’ve collected them together in the playlist here.
First up is a 14-minute post-apocalypse account of a preacher who stands in the ruins of a burned-out church to deliver one last psalm. His faith is in tatters, the world is drowning under rising seas, and the End is nigh for all mankind.
Where were you when the Kennedys went? Do you remember?
From The Last Psalm
Where were you when Lennon fell alone?
Where were you when Ghandi left his children?
And tell me where you were, when the World died!
But the suffocating black storm clouds have kept their silver lining. A shaft of light comes bursting through, rekindling Hope and bringing a spark of Life back into this devastated land.
The Last Psalm is a quintessential progressive rock song. It climbs several rungs above mediocre on the quality ladder while staying firmly under the rock music umbrella, bathed in the long shadow cast by Pink Floyd.
In The Voyager, the narrator grumbles about traffic jams, pollution and thoughtless drivers. Stuck in a queue, he feels like a bullet in a tarmac rifle, just waiting for it to shoot. Tabla shots and klezmer rhythms stoke his stomach-knotting tension.
Eventually, though, the journey takes us to a calmer place, where waves are lapping on a tropical shore. Here, the central character is quietly wading through memories of White Waters and old friends, a fake Hans Zimmer soundtrack playing in the background.
Travelling again down life’s rocky road, the Candyman reminds us of the dreams we once had. We were going to achieve great things; we were going to be remembered. But the dreams faded, and our achievements dwindled into insignificance. And yet, we receive a crumb of immortality through the hopes and aspirations that we pass on to our children. It’s the song of a philosophic folk singer – Nick Drake, Jeff Buckley or Michael Chapman, perhaps.
Having heard one long story and three that are medium-short, the musicians now offer us a 15-minute suite. The Fall & Rise of Abel Mann? spotlights a man who throws himself off a tall building, believing that unseen hands will bear him up and carry him to a better place, free of all his worldly troubles. This only serves to confirm that your whole life flashes before your eyes when you die. Then, in a post-mortem state, he is given a quill pen and called upon to account for his time on Earth in a journal. Sadly, the words that spill out on the page record only the futility and brevity of the life he had led.
Musically, Fall & Rise is an end-of-set anthem. Strong melodies, electric and acoustic guitar passages, and grand keyboard sections are guaranteed to leave the audience with a warm, satisfied glow. This is what sets the prog bands apart from the rest. And the Manning band does it as well as anyone.
Castaways provides an interlude in the form of a simple song. The singer seems uncertain about his relationships – past, present and future. And the deep, round tones of a fretless bass echo his sentiment as if he has a second voice.
The Tall Stories album finishes with a heartfelt condemnation of the role of organised religion in armed conflict. It’s another prog rock suite, called Holy Ireland, and it speaks its message against a background of “the troubles” in Ulster. We hear from a soldier who doesn’t know why he is fighting, from a widow whose children are painful reminders of the husband she has lost, and from a priest who incites his congregation to commit violence against those on the other side.
Guy Manning has stories to tell. His voice is clear and forward in the mix. The songs’ lyrics are easily interpreted, and there are further explanatory notes on his old website. But, above all, his long experience as a composer, performer and producer shines through. If Santa slips Tall Stories for Small Children into your stocking this Christmas, you will not be disappointed, I’m sure.
Crotchety Man 