MARILLION - "Did They Ever Do Anything Else?"

Each post I've made about a so-called "Fish-era" Marillion record has included me lobbing a soft but still unnecessary insult at the current incarnation of Fish's former band, followed by a "just kidding" disclaimer.  That actually only happened organically once, and the rest was me just deciding to turn it into a running bit.  It does beg the question*, though, of what my experience is with post-Fish (or "h-era") Marillion.

I've mentioned on multiple occasions that my Fish complete career retrospective - listening to and digesting every single record (usually for the first time), in order, along with a fuckton of live recordings - started as a Marillion career retrospective and led to me falling in love with Fish's music and adding his post-1987 output to the giant project.  I still continued the original plan, though, and also listened to all of Marillion's post-1987 output.  How did that go?  And why am I not writing thirty million words about that?

How it went was good.  Like all careers it was hit and miss.  Overall, Marillion, in its final form (Steve Hogarth, AKA "h," joining as the new lead singer and primary lyricist was the band's final lineup change; it's been the same five blokes ever since) made a lot of music, and most of it was good.  Some of it was outright great.  Why I'm not doing a series of blog posts about it, the way I am with Fish?  Or taking vacation time or flying halfway across the world to see Marillion** the way I am Fish?  There are two main reasons.  One is that despite this corner of the music world being a tiny niche already, I feel like a relative lot of people write about Marillion.  In a way that's a weird thing to say; after all, it would be completely accurate to describe Marillion as a cult act that carved out its little place in the music world through sheer force of fan and band passion, overcoming the mainstream world's efforts to mock and later aggressively ignore them.  Yet the cult of Marillion is actually impactful enough that books, articles, two separate podcasts, etc already exist.  Their history has been thoroughly documented, their records dissected... there's plenty of Marillion discourse out there as far as I'm concerned.  Fish, the indie artist who's through a mix of actual fan attrition/disinterest and deliberate scaling down of his pop culture footprint, has spent less time under the microscope, and is more fallow ground for my little niche blog.  That's a small part of it.

The big part of it is... well, I was going to go with the pithy "I'm just not that into Marillion."  But, I mean, I've listened to close to everything of note they've ever released, multiple times.  I ranked An Hour Before It's Dark as my second-favorite record of 2022.  I still frequently reach for a live Marillion recording if I want something that'll sound simultaneously familiar and exciting.  I must be a fan, right?  But somehow it's not the kind of passionate fandom that gets me excited and wanting to write lots of effusive posts. 

This was a gradual transformation.  See, Marillion had been in my orbit for a long time.  When I was in college a favorite online writer*** was a Marillion fan.  Based on a piece about the band, I decided to sample their music.  I started with the current lineup, figuring Fish was old news.  Even though it was clear that their commercial heyday would always be the Fish era, and that anything post-Fish would always be something of an afterthought as far as mainstream impact, I still wanted to hear the final form.  I figured I'd connect more with music featuring the guy who engaged in less macho posturing, who talked about being in touch with one's feminine side, who actually knew about melodic phrasing, who could consistently hit the right pitch, and so on.  I really enjoyed Brave, but despite finding moments to like didn't click as deeply with Afraid Of Sunlight or This Strange Engine.  When I did not understand the title track of This Strange Engine at all, despite trying over and over, I decided Marillion might not be for me.  I remained vaguely curious and would occasionally give Brave another spin.

Fast forward a decade and a half, and a favorite podcast**** was going to be profiling a "trilogy" of Marillion records.  I was already listening along to whatever that podcast introduced me to anyway, but that was a great excuse to learn more about this weird band.  The hosts were both new to Marillion and took the advice of a listener to listen to three records from ten years apart, so as to appreciate the band's evolution, so they did episodes about Fugazi (1984), Brave (1994), and Marbles (2004).  Those three records could not have been better designed to further reinforce my belief that Marillion didn't really become Marillion until they recruited Hogarth.  Based on how good some of the songs from Marbles were, I got the idea of a Marillion deep dive into my head, was considering it for years.  In 2021 I finally decided to make it happen.

So yeah, falling in love with Fish was a happy accident, I originally figured I'd just gut it out through the first few Marillion records until I got to the really good stuff with the better singer, but then I discovered Misplaced Childhood, blah blah blah blah, already summarized at length.  But nothing about becoming a Fish fan prevents one from also becoming a post-Fish Marillion fan.  I started out enthusiastic to dive back into the pool now that it was lacking its largest and most distracting type of marine wildlife.  Listening along to a (different) favorite podcast, Between You And Me [AKA "BYAMPod"]*****, I was all in... at first.  Until a weird thing started happening.  I started to tune out more and more.  I didn't find it so fascinating to hear a track by track review of Somewhere Else, nor an interview with a marginal figure in the band's orbit.  But I perked up whenever there was a mention - any mention - of Fish.  Even after one of the hosts started taking a mix of arguably justifiable (he took strong issue with some of Fish's behavior, and explained his point of view) and completely uncalled for potshots at Fish, I craved more Fish discussion.  I always looked forward to their episodes about the vibrant music Fish had made since leaving the band. whether I agreed with their opinions or not.  And as for Marillion talk, and my ongoing listening to Marillion?  *shrug*  It was good.  Not much to say about it.

Let's go deeper, though.  Why my indifference to this really good and unique band that I listen to a lot?  And ideally, can I explain it without constant reference to that Scotsman who hasn't even been part of the Marillion story in over thirty-five years?  I think I have four explanations.

1)  Doesn't rock enough

Sometimes the simplest explanation is the truest.  I try to dabble in all music, but I'm a hard rock guy.  Stuff carries the most emotion for me when it's loud.  

Marillion aren't a hard rock band.  That's just not what they do, plain and simple.  They rock out from time to time, but it's usually in a limited, controlled, almost sterile way (either that, or all arch and ironic, like on "Hooks In You," or "Separated Out," or the original mix of "The Answering Machine.").  Paul, the superfan who hosts the aforementioned BYAMPod, describes Marillion as more prog-pop than anything resembling rock, and as the sort of band whose gigs one might go to if one desires to stand around and cry with a bunch of other grown adults.  Well, that's cool if that works for you.  For me personally, hard rock is the music that makes me feel things.  Marillion sometimes do too, but they more often make me appreciate things rather than feeling them.

2)  The prog factor

For all the ballyhoo about whether or not Marillion still count as "prog" since they moved away from the specific Genesis-inspired sound they once had, I don't know how you can call them anything else.  Every record dabbles in a few different substyles of pop-rock, and they write song suites that sound like (and are often labeled as) multiple different parts that go together.  (As every Marillion fan has heard several hundred thousand times, they write by jamming and then figuring out afterwards which bits would go well with which other bits.  Infamously, frustration over the idea that a bunch of bits don't equal a song was the straw that broke the camel's back with regard to Fish deciding to leave Marillion.)  Sure sounds like a prog band to me!  

Like all but the very best of prog, Marillion songs are often amorphous and unfocused.  Their longer pieces are usually their best, but often are about 50% brilliant and about 50% bits that don't really fit in and kill the momentum.  Meanwhile, their shorter pieces are often just underdeveloped.  Take overhyped band favorite "Go!," a song that ends with a great hook that it takes for-fucking-ever to build up to, with four minutes of samey lead-in that feel like twenty.  Or take even more overhyped band and fan favorite "Neverland," which rides two pretty good motifs and one annoying one and stretches them out into what feels like an hour and a half.  

Or... actually a better example, take the closer from their newest record, a song suite called "Care."  In preparation for writing this post I listened to the group's most recent live record, which includes a nice version of "Care."  "Care" is viewed by some fans as the best song they've ever written.  As I always have, I loved the first part ("Maintenance Drugs"), was both grooving to it and feeling emotions and things, and was thinking to myself that even though people criticize the middle part, it wouldn't be enough to torpedo a killer song.  My mind then proceeded to wander for about five minutes, as it always does starting towards the very end of the "An Hour Before It's Dark" section and continuing until the song won me back, as it always does, with the last five minutes or so, including especially the "Angels On Earth" section.  "Care" is a really good song.  "Care" is good enough for enough of its running time that it kinda seems like nitpicking to complain that not every single second of the suite is my exact jam.  Yet... I have to ask.  Couldn't "Care" be even better, with some tighter editing?  I think it could.

3)  Lyrics

I'm a vocal melody guy first and foremost who kinda hates poetry when it's not set to music... but when put to the right tune, I can find a lot of meaning in song lyrics.  Marillion fans cite the lyrics as a major source of their emotional reaction to the music.  I have to admit, I find myself at a little bit of a distance from h as a singer, despite his undeniable vocal range, versatility, and power, because of the lyrics.  His early songs often have a veneer of distance, with the sentiments seeming a little generic.  His more nakedly personal songs often go to the other extreme, describing very specific experiences that don't really resonate with me.  I'm not convinced he has all that much interesting to say in his commentary on society.  I'm absolutely convinced that he only ever had one song in him that had anything interesting to say about celebrity culture or fame.******* 

There're some wonderful Marillion lyrics out there and some excellent songs built around them.  Their best mode is a sort of storytelling in which h is able to graft his own feelings onto either fictional characters or interesting real-life people, and tell a narrative.  The guy does that incredibly well sometimes (see: "Ocean Cloud," "A Few Words For The Dead," most of the Brave record).  I just wish it were a higher proportion of the time.

4)  "Vibes"

This is the hardest one of my points to define, and might be total horseshit.  But I have to say, before I started listening to Marillion, I had the band members in mind as open, soft-spoken guys with a love of music and a lot to share.  That may well be accurate.  Something about it, though... I dunno.  Hearing BYAMPod's reflections about Steve Hogarth's interviews in which he dismisses the band's pre-h music and by association that crop of Marillion fans, or dismisses the whole idea of modern prog in general, or displays total contempt for other contemporary bands, etc, rubbed me pretty strongly the wrong way.  As far as more heart-on-sleeve stuff, well, h's first marriage imploded in part because he cheated on his wife, a fact that is public knowledge because he's written so damn many songs about how miserable he feels about that and about all his efforts to become a better person.  Admirable, maybe.  But at some point, I find it hard to sympathize with that much angst, stated in such a performative way over and over and over and over.  Unforced error, dude!  Meanwhile, off to the side - and I get that this is even more vague - watch any live video and you'll see guitarist Steve Rothery moving around the stage carrying himself with what reads like absolute conviction that he's God's gift to music and that he doesn't have to show the slightest interest in his bandmates or the world.  (Rothery also has his own eponymous band, whose gigs and plans he apparently makes without checking in or coordinating with that other band that doesn't bear his name.)  

I just get such arrogant "vibes" from these guys.  Since specific examples are better than vague intimations, I present a typically whiny self-aggrandizing quote from a press release for the group's 2001 record, Anoraknophobia:

This is an important and contemporary album that is light years removed from anything the band have created in their past.  It deserves to be reviewed in a manner that is both accurate and fair.  So, our challenge to you is to firstly listen to the album.  Then write a review without using any of the following words: 'Progressive rock', 'Genesis', 'Fish', 'heavy metal', 'dinosaurs', 'predictable', 'concept album'.  Because if you do, we'll know that you haven't listened to it.

Can you fuckers please get over yourselves?  Anoraknophobia - one of the very best of the post-Fish Marillion records, by the way - basically sounds like a Marillion record.  You write guitar-driven pop-rock songs with a heavy dose of multi-part proggy pieces.  You're not doing something that the world has never heard before.  You're not even doing even something that the world didn't already hear on the likes of Afraid Of Sunlight.  The music press has treated plenty of artists unfairly; do you seriously think that you're such uniquely persecuted geniuses?

I almost regret writing all of this out.  I cannot emphasize enough that this is entirely a surface-level impression that I have that reflects only a "vibe" I get, with no evidence.  I have never met a member of Marillion.  I don't know the first thing about what makes the members of Marillion tick.  I have no basis to say anything at all about what they're like as people.  I'm one fan of their music, no more.  The only reason that I'm writing this unpleasant stuff out is to try to explain the barriers that keep me from being an even bigger fan.  

Also, like I said, that's not even a dealbreaker.  Ian and Pete seem like decent types, from what I can tell.  And whatever vague negative feelings I may sometimes have about him, h in particular is a born frontman.  In the recordings of the live gigs, he sounds animated and passionate, whilst being charmingly self-effacing enough in his stage banter to make every show a pleasure.  If points 1-3 above weren't factors, I'd totally ignore point 4.  Not to mention the fact that I'm writing this post as a tangent to a series of posts about my absolute love for FISH, of all people, who gives off (this is, of course, an equally unfounded, vague, subjective personal opinion) "vibes" that mostly live within the range between "quirky self-obsessed weirdo" and "raging egomaniac."  Anyway, count this as just one more thing in the list of things that I'd like more about Marillion if it were better.

Conclusion

If I can throw in one more personal anecdote: during a few-week period in late 2021 during which I was watching my father die, I was at the part in my chronological runthrough of the catalogue where I was finishing digesting This Strange Engine.  That record includes a song called "Estonia" that's literally about the stories we tell ourselves upon the death of loved ones.  "This Strange Engine" (the song), from the same record, is an epic that's in part about a father's love and sacrifice for his son.  Do I like those two songs?  Yes, I do.  Did I ever tear up listening to them, or ever really relate them to what I was going through at the time, or embrace either song as a top-tier all-timer?  Nah, not really.  Have the current lineup ever produced anything on the level (for me) of Clutching At Straws, and will they ever do so?  No.  Only once did they even come close to those heights (that was with Brave, for the record.  Brave is an incredible record).  I like Marillion.  Just not "in that way."

In conclusion, Marillion make good music.  Consistently good music, record after record.  Their stuff is complex without forgetting about pop melodies, it always keeps you guessing, and it's the product of some incredibly talented musicians.  I hold these things to be true.  I also couldn't even write an essay about the group without mentioning their long-ago former lead singer constantly, including four separate times after I said that I'd try not to do that.  I firmly believe that far and away the most interesting thing about Marillion is the fact that Fish was once in the band for a few years.

This has already of course gone on too long already for a single post.  I was also going to write a "brief" (only by Benjamin standards...) runthrough of Marillion's career, album by album.  You know what?  I don't really feel like it.  Instead, let's just do a list, totally free of context.

Complete list of post-Fish Marillion studio records that contain original material, in order of what is objectively their quality, with a reminder that it's the rest of the world that overrates and underrates certain things, not me.

1)  Brave (1994)

2)  Anaroknophobia (2001)

3)  Happiness Is The Road, Volume I:  Essence (2008)

4)  Marbles (2004)

5)  Seasons End (1989)

6)  An Hour Before It's Dark (2022)

7)  This Strange Engine (1997)

8)  Radiation (1998, but I am considering the 2013 remix rather than the original)

9)  Afraid Of Sunlight (1995)

10)  Sounds That Can't Be Made (2012)

11)  Holidays In Eden (1991)

12)  F.E.A.R. [Fuck Everyone And Run] (2016)

13)  Somewhere Else (2007)

14)  Happiness Is The Road, Volume II:  The Hard Shoulder (2008)

15)  Marillion.com (1999)

16)  Less Is More (2009)

 

Back to Fish with Vigil In A Wilderness Of Mirrors, whenever I get around to it!

*Despite being a bit of a language pedant, I've totally come around on the modern usage of the expression "to beg the question" to refer to a question that's screaming out for an answer.  It's a useful phrase to have around.  Way more so than one gets from the original meaning of "beg the question."

**It wouldn't even be as hard as seeing Fish's farewell tour.  I certainly could've arranged for time off last time Marillion did a "Marillion Weekend" (their bi-annual collection of multi-day fan conventions) in Montreal

***Retro video game enthusiast Jeremy Parish.

****The late, lamented, Rush-focused***** podcast Digital Men.

*****If I haven't mentioned it, Rush are my all-time favorite artist.

******Self-described as "a podcast about Marillion," it's actually something a little more unique than that.  I'd call BYAMPod more of an ongoing conversation between two people about their relationship and their life together, all told through the lens of one of them bringing his soulmate into his longtime obsession with "the world's least fashionable band." 

 *******Thankfully, now that he finally managed a worthwhile lyric about celebrity with "Real Tears For Sale," h hasn't really gone back to that well since.