Jeff Wayne's War Of The Worlds is one of those albums whose legend far surpasses it's content. This album is well known and well recieved within prog rock circles, but not well known outside of them (in the US anyway). I remember being very taken by it upon first listen as a young man (the artwork accompanying the album is priceless). It was quite the novelty hearing a rock opera with Sir Richard Burton narrating. But beyond the novelty, there isn't much substance.

In 1978 this album had what seemed to be a stellar cast. But in hind-sight, most of these performers had passed through the apex of their popularity and rellevance. Most all the muscial performers had spoken dialog as well as singing parts, except Heyward, who does most of the vocals. And of course there is Richard Burton, whose classically trained, stacatto voice is perfect for this style of recording. His performance carries the show, which doesn't say much for a rock album. Most of the dialog using Lynott, Essex and Covington ranges from banal to over-rought (Lynott's 'parson' is played way over the top and is somewhat embarrising given how big a Thin Lizzy fan I am).

That is not to say that there isn't some fine moments here and there. Heyward's Forever Autumn and Thunder Child are the only two songs that really stand out musically speaking. Forever Autumn is a wistful lament expressing seperation and loss, and while not directly related to the story, it does serve the plot well. Thunder Child is a minor masterpiece, melding story line lyrics and Burton's impecible narration with pop/rock hooks. If most of the album resembled this work, it might actually be the classic everyone thinks it is. But the people behind the console have to take a hit here as well. A superb, etherial instrumental like The Red Weed is marred by narration instead of being a stand alone song, save for the lead-in by Burton. The mixing job as a whole is somewhat clumsy. The goofy dialog (along with the disco trappings) should have been scrapped and more attention paid to the quality of the music.

Jeff Wayne may have had the vision and the ambition, but lacked the chops and flair of a Rick Wakeman, nor did he have the composition skills of an Eric Woolfson/Alan Parsons. And I'm afraid that time hasn't been kind to this release. Instead of being a period piece as it was intended to, it's sound is inexorably linked to the year in which it was recorded. Maybe an updated version of this story is in order-((hello Rick Wakeman...)) It was a good idea that never was realized to it's best potential.
Jeff Wayne's War Of The Worlds is one of those albums whose legend far surpasses it's content. This album is well known and well recieved within prog rock circles, but not well known outside of them (in the US anyway). I remember being very taken by it upon first listen as a young man (the artwork accompanying the album is priceless). It was quite the novelty hearing a rock opera with Sir Richard Burton narrating. But beyond the novelty, there isn't much substance. In 1978 this album had what seemed to be a stellar cast. But in hind-sight, most of these performers had passed through the apex of their popularity and rellevance. Most all the muscial performers had spoken dialog as well as singing parts, except Heyward, who does most of the vocals. And of course there is Richard Burton, whose classically trained, stacatto voice is perfect for this style of recording. His performance carries the show, which doesn't say much for a rock album. Most of the dialog using Lynott, Essex and Covington ranges from banal to over-rought (Lynott's 'parson' is played way over the top and is somewhat embarrising given how big a Thin Lizzy fan I am). That is not to say that there isn't some fine moments here and there. Heyward's Forever Autumn and Thunder Child are the only two songs that really stand out musically speaking. Forever Autumn is a wistful lament expressing seperation and loss, and while not directly related to the story, it does serve the plot well. Thunder Child is a minor masterpiece, melding story line lyrics and Burton's impecible narration with pop/rock hooks. If most of the album resembled this work, it might actually be the classic everyone thinks it is. But the people behind the console have to take a hit here as well. A superb, etherial instrumental like The Red Weed is marred by narration instead of being a stand alone song, save for the lead-in by Burton. The mixing job as a whole is somewhat clumsy. The goofy dialog (along with the disco trappings) should have been scrapped and more attention paid to the quality of the music. Jeff Wayne may have had the vision and the ambition, but lacked the chops and flair of a Rick Wakeman, nor did he have the composition skills of an Eric Woolfson/Alan Parsons. And I'm afraid that time hasn't been kind to this release. Instead of being a period piece as it was intended to, it's sound is inexorably linked to the year in which it was recorded. Maybe an updated version of this story is in order-((hello Rick Wakeman... )) It was a good idea that never was realized to it's best potential.