Much has been, or had been, made of the departure of lead singer and frontman Fish, but there seems to have been little actually acimony in his leaving. After a growing dissatisfaction with how things were progressing with Marillion he decided to leave, and as related in the previous posts there doesn't seem to have been any bad feeling involved. He even has words of praise for his replacement, which many --- mostly younger --- fans now see as the voice of Marillion. But Fish did not leave without a plan, and as early as 1989 he was writing for his first solo album, which would be released the following year. It was actually ready in '89 but EMI feared to lose sales on it by clashing with the release of "Seasons end", and so held it back till 1990.
Initially, Fish faced an uphill struggle. His leaving polarised Marillion fans: many thought him a traitor for "abandoning" the band, and would refuse to listen to anything he put out solo. Others would rabidly follow their hero, eschewing the material of the band whom they had seen as betraying him. Me, I fell between the two. I didn't know the full story at the time but I did remember an article which ran in "Kerrang!" at the time Marillion were just getting popular, prior to or just after "Script for a jester's tear" hit the shops, which said that a label (don't know if it was EMI or another one) offered Fish a solo contract. He had turned that down, so I knew that he was no glory-hunter. Besides, it didn't bother me that he had left --- well, it did, but I wasn't among those wanting to hang him from the nearest lamp post! --- to my mind, there was no dilemma, no choice. His departure simply meant that on the most basic level I would get two Marillion albums for the price of one. As long as Fish didn't start playing hardcore trance or Italian discopop or black metal, I was eager to hear what he had to say without the band behind him.
Truth to tell, I probably would have been very disappointed if the solo albums had sounded completely different to Marillion's --- I wasn't looking for a Freddie Mercury moment here. More a case of that man again, Peter Gabriel. Yeah. Less Collins, more Gabriel please. So how did it turn out? Glad you asked.
Vigil in a wilderness of Mirrors (1990) (Fish solo album) ---
produced by Jon Kelly on the EMI label
It must, in fairness, have been a pretty daunting task, going it alone. In the band Fish may have written all the lyrics but he had the other guys to bounce ideas off, and besides that, he wrote
lyrics, not music. Marillion as a unit took care of that. After all, let's not forget that great singer and composer though he is, Fish didn't play any instrument in the band. He was purely, first and foremost, a vocalist. So he had to turn to some of his famous mates for help, and his first solo album contains contributions from, among others, Mickey Simmonds and Iron Maiden's Janick Gers. He also used a wealth of talent from uileann pipes expert Davy Spillane to bassist John Giblin and drummer Mark Brzezicki, best known for his work with Big Country.
1. Vigil (8:43) --- Although this is a long song (the longest on the album) it would seem Fish had taken some lessons away from his time with Marillion, one of these being that songs that are too long get no radio airplay, and as a solo artist you want as much exposure as you can get. Fish knew, or hoped, that many Marillion and ex-Marillion fans would buy his music, if only to hear the difference to what he had been doing with the band, but he knew too that he could not rely only on the "old guard", and must write songs with one eye fixed on if not the charts then at least radio time. So as an introductory song this is necessarily long, almost an old Marillion song that could have worked on "Script", but the rest of the songs are relatively short. As there was no acrimonious split with Marillion there's no need for an angry, "Assassing"-style opening shot at the band, and Fish instead blasts consumerism as he pictures himself lost in a "wilderness of mirrors".
It's interesting that his first words as a solo artist are "Listen to me, just hear me out: if I could have your attention?" almost as if he's pleading with that section of Marillion fandom who have cursed his name. Probably not, but it's still a good idea. The song opens on atmospheric keyboard but soon kicks up on the basis of thick percussion and when it really gets going it takes on something of a celtic feel, reflecting of course his Scottish roots. He talks about learning that all his childhood beliefs were wrong --- "When I was young my father told me just bad guys died, at the time just a little white lie. It was one of the first but it hurt me the most and the truth stung like tears in my eyes that even the good guys must die. There's no reason, no rhyme and I never knew why: even now it still makes me cry."
Further celtic inspiration is supplied by the appearance of the great Davy Spillane on pipes and whistle, and great guitar screams courtesy of ex-Dire Straits man Hal Lindes as Fish is back to the angry man we knew on albums like "Fugazi" and "Script". The feeling of loss and helplessness runs through the album, and the idea of "the Hill" is first broached here. This is a metaphor for the accumulation of wealth and power, the idea that if you're on "the Hill" you can look down on your neighbours and feel that you're better than they are.
Big wedge (5:19) --- An obvious push for the charts, this single was never going to do much in the USA --- truth be told it didn't exactly shake up the charts here either --- as Fish decries the idea of capitalism and specifically American capitalism. It's upbeat and rocky as Fish sings "A priest got in his Cadillac, the shoe-shine boy sang gospel as God and His accountant drove away!" Showing he was determined also to move a step away from the Marillion music, Fish calls in the talents of a brass section which really "souls" up this track. If there was any doubt about his views on the US of A they're dispelled as he roars "America! America the big wedge! Am I buying your tomorrow out today?" No US stadium shows for
you, Mr. Dick!
State of mind (4:42) --- Another single, this is far more restrained and more in the Marillion mode, as Fish fumes about the grip of Thatcher's government over Britain, and foresees a revolution. Driven on a thick bassline from Giblin the vocal is downbeat and restrained, menacing and somewhat paranoid, rising to a hopeful rallying call as he sings "We the people are gettin' tired of your lies, we the people believe that it's time. We're demanding our right to the answers: we'll elect a president to a state of mind." Another example of Fish's talent in making a phrase mean two things, or changing the meaning of a word to fit in with his vision. The title of the album is also mentioned here for the second time. Great crashing guitar and what could be sitar but probably is not.
The company (4:04) --- Perhaps a slight throwback to "Clutching at straws", this is a folky tune that sways along with the happy abandon of the drunk but soon turns angry as Fish snarls "You buy me a drink then you think that you've got the right to crawl into my head and rifle my soul." Again "the Hill" is mentioned, quite a lot actually as he says "Here on the Hill, halfway up, halfway down." Nice bit of celtic violin and flute with an almost orchestral keyboard passage.
A gentleman's excuse-me (4:15) --- The first ever Fish ballad, and I have to say right up there with the likes of "Lavender" and "Sugar mice", the imagery goes right back to Chelsea Monday as Fish asks, against a lone piano melody, "Do you still keep paper flowers in the bottom drawer with your Belgian lace, taking them out every year to watch the colours fade away?" It's an inspired and effective depiction of a life, and the chance of a relationship, wasting away, the more so when he sneers "Do you still believe in Santa Claus? There's a millionaire looking for your front door with the keys to a life that you'd never understand" but then admits "All I have to offer is the love I have, it's freely given." Sumptuous orchestral arrangements lift this song right up to the status of instant classic, and if there was a time when you realised Fish --- the solo artist, not Fish the ex-Marillion singer or even Fish the Marillion singer --- had arrived, this is it.
All through the song Fish tries to compare his real charms, his true love to the fantasies and dreams of the girl, who is waiting for a white knight to sweep her off her feet, and can't see what's under her nose. But in the end, frustration gives way to cold anger and then resignation and acceptance as he tells the object of affection "Can't you get it inside your head I'm tired of dancin'? We're finished dancing."
The voyeur (I like to watch) (4:49) --- Probably one of the most uptempo tracks on the album but with a very Europop feel, almost Madonna's "True blue"! Not the most original of lyrics I have to say, with the television and particularly the news seen as a voyeuristic activity as Fish declares gleefully "I like to watch plausible pledges of black politicians" and then references shows like Jerry Springer: "Private lives are up for auction and a cupboard full of skeletons are coming out to play!" Again, not one of my favourite songs, though there is a nice Marillion-style keyboard passage in the middle eighth. This was not included on the original vinyl album and to be honest, I wouldn't have missed it on the CD. Oh well, not a terrible song but I guess you can't have a flawless solo debut.
Family business (5:14) --- Much more like it. As already mentioned in the previous post, the actual lyric for this was used on a song to have been recorded by Marillion for their then fifth album, which was of course never recorded, "Seasons end" being released instead after Fish's departure. The lyric was in the song then called "Story from a thin wall" and used as "Berlin", but here it has different music, the story of domestic violence, as Fish listens to the nightly goings-on next door and wishes he could help. "Every night when I hear you I dream of breaking down your door, an avenging knight in shining armour". It's a slow, plodding song with crying violin and stark piano, bitter and recriminatory. It ramps up for the bridge as the unnamed husband warns his battered wife "If anyone from the Social asks, you fell down the stairs!"
It's a shocking indictment not only of domestic and family abuse, but of how it's tactitly accepted, mostly because people just don't want to get involved, or are afraid of being pulled into what's seen as "family business". The same reason cops don't intervene in domestic disputes. The pathetic figure of the wife as "She's waiting at a bus stop at the bottom of the hill. She knows she'll never catch it" is heart-rending, and so typical of women who fail to break out of their abusive relationships. But something will have to be done, she realises, "Cause when daddy tucks the kids in it's taking longer every night."
View from the Hill (6:38) --- The Hill finally comes into view, as Fish teams up with Maiden's Janick Gers for a searing look at the things people will do to get to the top. Fish snarls "They sold you the view from the Hill, they told you the view from the Hill would be further than you had ever seen before!" It's the old story of the grass being greener on the other side, and the song could be misinterpreted to mean that Fish was regretting his solo move, but that's not the case at all. Gers himself guests on guitar and really rocks the track up, Fish's vocal burning with anger and accusation, almost as if the impotent rage of "Family business" has exploded out of him in a towering wave, directed at those who sell unattainable dreams. Of course there's a great solo from Gers, and the song is definitely the heaviest on the album, not quite metal but coming reasonably close. It fades out on single chords from Gers and takes us to the closer.
Cliche (7:01) --- Starting out pretty much like the opener did it's the second ballad, though it ramps up near the end. It's carried mostly on piano and synth, with Fish wrestling with how to get across how he loves his lady without resorting to hackneyed lines and methods. With perhaps a lack of humility he declares "I've got a reputation of being a man with the gift of words: romantic, poetic type, or so they say." The fact that it's true makes it a little easier to take, and the guitar moaning in the background adds a sense of power to the song, with backing vocals from among others, Heaven 17's Carol Kenyon giving it a feel of Pink Floyd.
A slick bass line from Giblin runs throughout the tune, and a fiery guitar solo from Frank Usher lays the final polish on a great closer. As I say, a ballad but a song that changes as it goes along and ends up being quite a punchy, emotional and stirring final track.
As a debut solo album, even for someone already well known in progressive rock circles, this stands as one of the best, and certainly among Fish's catalogue I'd rank it among the big three, with "Raingods and Zippos" and the followup to this, "Internal exile". If nothing else, it does partially exorcise the ghost of Marillion and the breakup, and shows that Fish was able to stand unaided as a performer in his own right. Of course, that same ghost was not completely gone, and in the subject matter and Mark Wilkinson's Marillionesque album covers, the Jester was always looking over Fish's shoulder.
But then, he had always been synonymous with the big Scot, anyway.