Aural Fixations
JEFF WAYNE
Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of the Worlds
(Columbia/Legacy)
Far too many years ago, when I was in junior high, my best friend Willie wanted me to hear a song. Enthusing about how great it was (something that was usually my job, though I wasn't nearly as obsessed with music as I am now), he put one disk of a double album on the turntable, side two, I think, and cued up the tune about which he was so excited. The string-laden pop song soared out of the speakers, on the wings of a by-then familiar voice. The song was called "Forever Autumn," sung by Justin Hayward, lead singer of the Moody Blues, who were riding a hit that year with Hayward's "The Voice." I dug it, being at just the right age to accept the hyper-romantic lyrics without irony. "What album is this from?" I asked.
The record was Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of War of the Worlds, a British rock opera based on a fairly faithful adaptation of H.G. Wells' novel and composed by an expatriate American. Originally released in 1978, the album was the result of two years' work involving composer/arranger Wayne, his theater veteran father Jerry Wayne and his writer wife Doreen, future Elton John lyricist Gary Osborne, guitarists Chris Spedding and Jo Patridge, bassist Herbie Flowers and other top U.K. session musicians, and singers Hayward, Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynott, Manfred Mann's Chris Thompson, British songbird Julie Covington and David Essex (then famous for "Rock On," a single produced by Jeff Wayne). Amazingly, actor Richard Burton provided the narration. Unusually expensive to produce (at least for the time), The War of the Worlds rewarded its creators with multi-platinum sales, the hit single "Forever Autumn" and a long life as a cult item, becoming a favorite of samplers and remixers. It eventually fell out of print, as older albums often do. Just in time for Steven Spielberg's film, however, Wayne and Legacy Recordings undertook a massive remastering process, giving folks like me a replacement for a long-lost vinyl copy. (There's also a seven-disk set available that includes outtakes, demos, club remixes spanning 20 years and a DVD on the making of the album.)
The music is a slick combination of progressive rock, classical music, Broadway show music and (as befits the time in which it was made) disco. Jeff Wayne knows how to score a dramatic work, reprising themes and melodies that tie the various tracks together. Spedding peels off clean lead lines reminiscent of Hayward's work with the Moodies (Hayward sings only). Partridge takes the part of the Heat Ray, his ultra-distorted slide riffs sweeping the songs the way the Martians' weapons criss-cross Great Britain. Keyboardists Wayne and Ken "Prof" Freeman provide most of the melodies; the music is a feast for analog synthesizer enthusiasts. But the unsung hero of this work is Flowers, whose grooving basswork keeps the tracks from dragging and provides the foundation for this album's popularity amongst dance remixers. Of course, his work is also the most prominent disco element, which is enough to keep hardcore rockers away.
Among the singers, Hayward contributes the most impressive performance, lending "Forever Autumn" and "The Eve of the War" the most instant appeal. As the Voice of Humanity, Thompson also shines, his gritty vocals giving the destruction of "Man's last hope of victory" in "Thunder Child" a poignancy the storming cut might not otherwise have. Essex pushes the boundaries of taste in the bombastic (and far too long) "Brave New World," his Artilleryman's manifesto echoing the madness in the character's mind. As the tormented Parson Nathaniel, Lynott seems out to prove that he can jump farther over the top than anyone on "The Spirit of Man" and "The Red Weed (Part 2)," duetting aggressively with the more sedate Covington (as the Parson's wife) on the former and furiously chewing the scenery in the latter. As the Journalist, Burton is the glue that holds both the story and the songs together. His understated reading of Doreen Wayne's prose never lets the work become as silly as it might have; he injects a very British dignity into what could have become a ridiculous folly. Somehow the work hangs together, succeeding in its aims at telling the story through song without succumbing to cheese. Even the tacked-on "Gotcha!" of "Epilogue 2" fits. Frankly, it's an incredible feat.
It's hard to think of a current project that's anything like this. There have certainly been other rock operas since, and prior, for that matter, but those works either scale back the ambition or simply fail in making the various elements gel. While its musical tastes definitely fix the record in a certain time period, it has aged remarkably well. Of course, not everyone will have the tolerance for an hour and a half of pre-twentieth century science fiction delivered in discofied prog rock strains. But if you've the stomach for it, Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of the War of the Worlds is both an impressive accomplishment and a cracking piece of entertainment. Michael Toland [buy it]
