Foxtrot (1971)
Perhaps it might be hard to understand today, in this world of hit singles making an album, but back in the seventies it wasn't actually all that necessary to have a hit for your album to sell well. People bought albums, and played them through, and made their decision based on all the tracks (or most of them), not just what was played on the radio. So, while there were no hit singles at all from Genesis's fourth album, it nevertheless became their biggest commercial success to that point. Coupled with Peter Gabriel's deliberate publicity stunt, where he wore the red dress and a fox mask on stage in imitation of the cover of the album,
Foxtrot assured Genesis of near-legendary status. Even now, it's still seen as one of the benchmark prog albums of the time. It certainly allowed Gabriel, and the others, the room and the opportunity to flex their musical and indeed songwriting muscle in a way they had never done before, culminating in the longest song they had ever written, which closes the album and would forever be their totem.
Watcher of the Skies
An epic, brooding opening to the album, I totally disagree with ex-producer Bob Potter's comment that the song would have been better off without the long mellotron intro; for me, that's what makes the song and it really shows Tony Banks at his finest until about “Firth of Fifth”, but more importantly, shows how well he used the mellotron to develop and expand on Genesis's sound. After this, the band would pretty much always be linked with that instrument, at least in the seventies. A powerful song, it sees things from the point of view of an alien who has come across a destroyed and empty Earth, and the keys and mellotron hammer out the theme to Man's extinction, his requiem, not quite a funeral march, as it's bouncy and upbeat (kind of in contrast to the lyric) but certainly fatalistic. A great call-and-response near the end and a punchy ending brings us right into one of Genesis's top albums with a top song. One of my very favourite of theirs.
10/10
Time Table
Like “For Absent Friends” on the previous album, this is my least favourite track on the album. One of Banks' solo efforts, it's really not that good, and has that gentle, lilting feeling from the debut that makes it not quite folk, but hardly prog. It's all right I suppose, but on a storming album like this it's very definitely the weak link. Meh. You can do so much better, Tony, and you will.
3/10
Get 'em Out by Friday
If “Harold the Barrel” was a mini comic opera, then this is the full thing, with script by Gabriel, a full cast of characters, a plot and a subplot, and some damn fine music. It's also quite humourous, as Gabriel announces “This is a message from Genetic Control: it is my sad duty to inform you of a four foot restriction on humanoid height!” Some lovely sweeping guitar music, a punchy opening that settles into a kind of almost waltz, a beautiful midsection and a story well told, if slightly farcical. The first, perhaps, Genesis song to tackle real-word problems such as unscrupulous landlords and the dwindling rights of tenants.
10/10
Can-Utility and the Coastliners
The first instance of Gabriel's clever usage of word play, where Can-Utilty refers to Canute, the king who supposedly tried to order the waves of the sea back, and the Coastliners would then be referring to that event Very medieval beginning, almost like a lute or something (presumably twelve-string though) and some boppy upbeat keyboard, with perhaps odd lyric but it kind of makes sense, and parallels have been drawn, whether correct or no, between the story of Canute and Gabriel's own dissatisfaction at the fawning sycophants that appear once fame beckons you. I particularly like the frenzied keyboard run that ends the song.
9/10
Horizons
One minute and thirty-nine seconds of pure bliss from Steve Hackett. Reserved, introspective and totally gorgeous. A chance to catch the breath, perhaps, before the massive epic comes to close out the album, but also the first real chance to appreciate properly how important this man was to Genesis, the classical and intricate touches he brought to the band, and what they lost when he departed in 1976. Just pure beauty, effortless and understated.
10/10
Supper's Ready
I can't be certain, but I believe this may be the first time a song of this length was attempted by any band, never mind a prog one. Probably wrong of course, but it certainly was the first time I heard what would come to be known as the progressive rock epic suite, and it absolutely floored me. Without question Genesis's most ambitious song ever, and it still remains so, “Supper's Ready” runs for a few seconds shy of twenty-three minutes, taking up almost the entire second side of the album. It's split into seven sections, each of which is very different and yet all of which meld together to become more than the sum of their parts. A quiet acoustic and mellow opening turns into bouncy rock, twenties ragtime almost, relaxed ambient/atmospheric, some incredible instrumental sections, amazing vocal gymnastics by Gabriel, and a pounding, literally apocalyptic ending. No surprise at all that this was, and remains, one of Genesis's most famous and favourite songs, and that it spawned so many imitations down the years. A truly staggering achievement, and a hell of a way to end the album.
10/10
Album Rating: 9/10