Procol Harum

Beyond
the Pale

PH on stage | PH on record | PH in print | BtP features | What's new | Interact with BtP | For sale | Site search | Home

Procol Harum and Me

A Private Love Story


  Nineteen Sixties: Baby boom coming of age in the Cold War: nuclear holocaust expected soon.

Existentialism and cynicism. Television. Birth Control. What a world to wake up to!

What is there to live for in a world of lies? The only escape was madness and death.

Then again, there was rock and roll and rebellion and revelation.

The world of the Twentieth Century was the worst world ever. We could only go up after such a total downer.

Enter psychedelic drugs a trip that needed a spiritual guide.

Procol Harum didn't preach, but the lyrics of Keith Reid offered a way to the light. Obscure, metaphoric, playful words and a feeling that seemed more real than what anyone else was saying.

The subject is a contradiction, just like life itself: words only confuse and take away from the truth.

So Procol Harum, like their mysterious band name, never actually said anything. They didn't need to: it was obvious:

"Life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?"

They were sharing my experiences with me on every album. Tripping mates from another land.

And when the tripping finally was over, they were done too. A memory, a marvelous frozen moment, an instant when everything lined up. Shine on brightly, indeed!

In the end, the less said, the better. I can't make your life better by what I learned. Everyone has to figure it out for themselves. If you know, then you know. If you don't know, then you are still searching and you don't know anything.

I should leave you alone. Your beanstalk is calling.

so much for memories...

love,

Peter


More features at BtP


PH on stage | PH on record | PH in print | BtP features | What's new | Interact with BtP | For sale | Site search | Home