Rather like Robert Fripp - already using the term "dinosaur" to describe his Prog-Rock contemporaries by this time remember - the maverick's maverick singer/ songwriter Peter Hammill was earnestly trailbazing sonic paths for the future by 1975.
In truth, Hammill's original troupe VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR never sat easily within Prog's apparent, erm, concepts and considering his subequent solo work had already begun to embrace tape loops/ rudimentary 'sampling' devices by 1974's "In Camera" LP, it's no surprise that his seminal 1975 offering, "Nadir's Big Chance" should attract plaudits from the likes of David Bowie and John Lydon.
Loosely based around the adventures of Hammill's 'alter-ego' Rikki Nadir, "Nadir's Big Chance" initially comes on like a post-downfall Ziggy Stardust-type creation, with the strutting, distorto-rock title track apparently hellbent on destroying the remnants of all things Glam: e.g: "Look at all these jerks in their tinsel and glitter suits prancing around."
Nonetheless, whilst the sneering angst in places may sound like a precursor to Punk - notably on the sarcastic "Birthday Special" and the prowling, The Man-slagging "Two Or Three Spectres," it's the visceral emotional impact of Hamill's songs throughout that ensures "Nadir's Big Chance" retains such a gob-smacking artistic clout more than a quarter century on.
And nowhere more so than on the album's two bittersweet ballads, "Been Alone So Long" and "Pompeii", which collectively forge an epic centrepiece for the record. "Been Alone So Long" is just devastating; Hammill emoting in a voice numb and forlorn, so far gone it barely matters any more. When he sings: "I've forgotten what it's like to feel someone next to me and hear her breathing peacefully," the heartbreak is palpable as he stares ito the abyss beyond the spotlight and screaming girls.
"Pompeii" is little short of genius, too. I'm still undecided as to whether it's a metaphor for Nadir's Dionysian downfall or a literal commentary on the real's Pompeii's destruction by volcanic fallout circa AD79, but whatever the story, it's drifting, elegiac bossa nova reins you in and sprinkles frankincense and stardust all over the world regardless.
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There are plenty more surprises to come, of course. "Airport" details an apparently tearful goodbye at, yeah, an airport, but carries a tantalising undertow of sarcasm and anger, plus some fantastic chord changes. The ace "People You Were Going To" follows this beautifully, wallowing in the protagonist's growing isolation. Hammill intones "...and the people you were going to America with just left on th dawn plane - without you", reminding you of the sneering relish that epitomises fellow arch English toubadours Peter Perrett and Luke Haines.
It's tempting to view "Nadir's Big Chance" as overbearingly negative, yet while it can be brutal and bleak in its' execution, especially on "Birthday Special" and the howling self-laceration of "Nobody's Business", Hammill never denies his innate melodic urges or allows the inherent gore and disgust to usurp the rock'n'roll glory the album's eventually bound for, no matter how bloody the roads.
Actually, it's a bonus to realise Hammill has barely lost the plot since, being bold enough to form the K Group at the dawn of the 1980s with Vibrators' guitarist John Ellis and Van Der Graaf rhythm section Guy Evans and Nic Potter for the superb "Sitting Targets" in 1981 and later superb waxings coming via 1986's "Skin" and 1996's vastly under-rated "X My Heart."
At no time, though, has Hammill sounded quite so utterly essential as with "Nadir's Big Chance." Hindsight allows us the opportunity of lining it up against Punk's supposed 'dinosaur hunters' and finds it laughing like a particularly macabre spectre at the feast. Let's face it: self-loathing and failure rarely sounds as absorbing as this.
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