Published on Nov 20, 2002
Quick – name the city and country where the 1976 Winter Olympics
were held. Time’s up. The answer is Innsbruck, Austria. Don’t
worry, I wouldn’t have gotten it, either.
Quick, again – name the movie which served as the documentary
for these games. Time’s up again. The answer is
White Rock. Most likely you, like me, would be two for two
in the trivia department right now.
Yes, kids, there was a documentary about these Olympic Games –
and the soundtrack was provided by one Rick Wakeman. Coming off the
disappointments of
No Earthly Connection and
Criminal Record, it almost sounds like Wakeman just wanted
to have some fun with this music. Fortunately for all, he succeeds,
and
White Rock – criminally out of print right now – is a major
return to form for the famed keyboardist. Utilizing only his
friend, now long-time drummer Tony Fernandez (as well as a choir
two times), Wakeman sculpts a rich sound from sparse
instrumentation to create a powerful disc.
I wonder if a little of the power of this music is lost because
I don’t have the corresponding film to watch, and to see how it all
fits together. Normally, such a situation can hurt a film
soundtrack. In the case of
White Rock, sometimes it feels like Wakeman’s music is out
there on its own, and the film just happened to flow around the
music.I don’t claim to have insider knowledge on this; all I know
is that the album, as it is, does a great job.
One can’t help but like the Gypsy thread of “Montezuma’s
Revenge,” or the glory of the title track, almost making you feel
like you’re taking part in the Opening Ceremonies, walking in with
your fellow athletes.One can feel the pain of losing after giving
one’s all on tracks like “Ice Run,” but also one can take comfort
in that you made it to the big dance, when thousands of others only
can dream of what you’ve done.
Okay, enough metaphors. Fact is, Wakeman sounds like he’s having
some real fun with the music here – something he started to
discover on
Criminal Record – and his free spirit is what allows these
songs to succeed. His layered keyboards, combined with the powerful
drumming of Fernandez, make it sound like Wakeman is performing
with his beloved English Rock Ensemble. (Come to think of it, I
wonder how these tracks would sound with the Ensemble performing
them. Memo to Wakeman: Maybe, if you tour again with them, you’d
consider reviving one or two of these songs?)
This isn’t to say that
White Rock is flawless. Granted, there is only one stumbling
block here – the track “Lax’x” – but it takes far too long for this
song to get its gears moving and to reach the musical heart of the
piece. In some ways, it sounds a little too experimental, though
both Wakeman and Fernandez could be equally called onto the carpet
for this one. Still, it’s one flawed track out of eight – and
that’s a good average.
White Rock is not the easiest album to find; indeed, I had
to review it off of – gasp! – MP3 files. But I can say this with
confidence: the day this one is re-released on CD, I’ll be one of
the first in line to snag a copy. Wakeman followed this disc up
many years later with
White Rock II, and hopefully we’ll get to that one soon. For
now,
White Rock marks a return to form for Wakeman.
Album
cover artwork borrowed from
Rick Wakeman
Communication Centre.