The angiogram was, despite being a routine operation, one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had to undergo, simply because of what it revealed to me, and the implications of what could have happened should anything have gone wrong. The procedure seemed simple enough- a catheter, which was basically a tube about 3mm in diameter and over a metre long, would be put into the femoral artery in my groin, and then slid all the way up to my heart, where it would be used to inject a contrasting agent into my blood so that the surgeons could take detailed pictures of the arteries supplying blood to my heart. There was a small chance that having the catheter so close to my heart would trigger a heart attack, so I was understandably nervous on the day.

The catheter goes into the femoral artery in the groin, and travels up to the heart.

What didn’t add to my confidence was the fact that on the day, I was one of a dozen or so patients, whose ages ranged from 19 to 91, who were all there for the same procedure, and we were to be treated one after the other in some kind of bizarre assembly line situation. This wasn’t helped when my turn came, and I had to be steered away from one theatre while a mess was cleaned up, and a memorial service was being held there for someone who had died the previous week. Wait, what? This sounded like it was getting pretty damned serious! To add to my nervousness, I discovered, while overhearing the lab technicians chatting as I was being helped into position, that the person performing the operation had only had three hours sleep the night before, and was relying on strong coffee to keep going. Gulp.

I think he realised that I’d heard this, as he reassured me by saying that the chances of anything going wrong were about one in a thousand. “That’s fine,” I quipped, “As long as you haven’t done 999 operations before you got to me!” The actual operation itself was unpleasant; the catheter felt like a nail being pushed into my groin until there was a sharp ‘popping’ sound, followed by a shivering sensation travelling up my body as the tube went in. There was a bank of TV monitors by my head, on which I could see a grey, pulsating blob. When a black line rose into view, I realised that this must have been the catheter, so the grey blob must have been my heart.

They moved the catheter about and took as many images as they needed, and when the tube was removed, they pressed on my thigh really hard for ten minutes before applying a dressing. I wasn’t allowed to move for two hours afterward, and walking proved to be very stiff going for a day or two afterwards, with a livid purple bruise that stretched from just below my waist to just above my knee- and I felt like I’d been kicked in the nether regions by a horse with spiked shoes and an attitude probem.

The report concluded that I have two arteries that are too narrow to have an angioplasty and are, in effect, blocked, and the surgeons recommended that I go in for a bypass operation. It was while researching the operation that I discovered the risks involved; during the operation, I would be connected up to a pump and my heart stopped, before veins were harvested from my legs to be grafted either side of the blockages, and my heart re-started. Aside from the obvious risk that they might not succeed in starting the heart once it was stopped, there was also a very real risk of a heart attack or a stroke, and often both, during this procedure. The connection to the pump also carries a risk, which I discovered from various American sources, as microscopic fragments of plastic in the pump could find their way into my bloodstream and induce brain-damage. This is apparently so commonplace that American cardiologists call this ‘pump-head’. There is also the risk of  other organs failing due to the stress being placed on them by the removal of  some of the blood vessels in my legs for the bypass grafts.

This wasn’t encouraging, so I began to look at other alternatives to see if I could regain my health or reverse the effects of my heart disease by non-invasive, non-surgical techniques, especially since there was a chance that even if the operation was successful, there was a good chance that I would need further surgery a few years later as the bypasses became blocked. I’d also begun an exercise program with a Nordic Track machine and started to feel fitter, and I didn’t fancy the idea of possibly giving this up at least until my legs healed.

My research led me to discover the work of American cardiologist Dr. Dean Ornish, who conducted exhaustive research into the causes of heart disease, and possible ways of halting or reversing the effects. Ornish concluded that a low-fat, strict vegetarian diet, together with regular exercise, meditation and yoga, could actually reverse the effects of heart disease, and according to some case studies, patients with much more advanced heart disease than mine have been able to come off their medication and lead normal active lives.

Can Dr. Ornish save your heart? I think he can.

This wouldn’t require much effort on my part, since I had already begun a pescatarian diet a few years ago, and the diet would only require tweaking since the modifications I’d done following high cholesterol readings two years ago. The diet requires abstinence from caffeine, but Rooibos tea and certain coffee alternatives are really quite pleasant, and as I’d done Buddhist meditation in the past, this was an excellent opportunity to resume the practice. Dr. Ornish has published his findings in a bestselling book, which details this diet, the exercise and meditations, and the reasoning behind them, so I bought the book and studied it intensely, and began the diet in early August.

This is my course of treatment from now onwards.

In October, I will be having another meeting with my cardiologist, when I will be discussing this course of action with him. it is my intention to not lose contact with the cardiology team, but instead to make sure they can monitor my progress, and see if it will be safe to take me off of any of my medication when I am well enough. My cholesterol readings were taken again recently, and were very healthy, being 3.45 (133 in US measurement), with healthy liver function, so I am already hoping that I can come off of my statins soon. I want to give this a good chance, but should I become symptomatic or, heaven forbid, get worse, then we will discuss the surgical option. I doubt that I will need this though, as I already feel much better, more energised, and I’ve already begun taking long walks as well as using my exercise machine on the maximum setting. I used to love walking on the local green chain routes in my spare time, and I am already very glad that I can do this once more. Here’s hoping that future posts on this topic will bring more good news!

Roger Dean's stunning artwork for the album cover of Yes' Fly From Here.

In many ways, the title track is a direct sequel to Drama, being an expansion of a track they had been working on immediately post-Drama and had played live a few times during the Drama tour, then recorded on the Buggles’ album Adventures In Modern Recording. Now, the track has been extended into a proper Yes opus, complete with separate movements that unfold a tale of a lonely airfield and an abandoned propshaft airliner being prepared for one last flight into the blue. The piece is wonderfully atmospheric, deftly played and beautifully evocative, somehow managing to sound both like classic era Yes, yet also show its’ direct homage to Drama, while still being able to sound modern and relevant. New singer Benoit David acquits himself well, somehow sounding like a cross between Horn and Anderson, yet also being distinctly himself.

The subject material could have made for a depressing piece, but the band have instead turned this into a life-affirming message- as if the abandoned aircraft was the band, and this one last flight was them proving that despite their advancing years,  they can still play as deftly, skillfully and soulfully as they ever could. The sound of the band has changed subtly; instead of displaying the hunger and eagerness to prove themselves that came across in Close To The Edge or Tales From Topographic Oceans, they know exactly what each is capable of, and slip into the groove of the track with consummate ease.

Where the Fly From Here suite would have taken up side one on the old vinyl format, side two is a collection of different tracks that thematically link to the suite, evoking times past, the golden age of Hollywood, and other nostalgic memories. Chris Squire takes to the mic for The Man You Always Wanted Me To Be, which is quite simply a wonderful soft-rock ballad that fits in so well with the rest of the album. Next up is Life On A Film Set, which sounds as if it could have been slotted into the middle of the Fly From Here suite. Hour Of Need is another wonderful composition, and features Rick’s son Oliver Wakeman on keyboards. Following this comes Steve Howe’s moment to shine on Solitaire, where he shows once again his deftness and delicacy of touch when playing classical acoustic guitar. When Yes come to London in November, I will look forward to hearing him playing this live. The album finishes with Into The Storm, which has ‘hit single’ stamped all over it, and the theme of ‘we can fly from here’ gets one final reprise at the end of the track before the album fades into the blue.

In summary, this is a welcome return to form for Yes, and I’m sure that in years to come, this album will be regarded as a classic example of the band at its’ best.

The Stress Test Echocardiogram set up. (Picture courtesy of BUPA)

For the test, I was asked to abstain from beta-blockers for the day to ensure they didn’t affect the results adversely. I arrived in the hospital, and was shown into a small room where I was wired up for the ECG, and was told to relax while the nurse- a stocky, solidly-built Mediterranean chap, put the cannula in my arm. At that point, I could see the monitor screen, and my heartbeat producing those wavy lines that you see in all those medical dramas on TV. I found that by concentrating, I could make the heart rate go up or down, which was quite cool, but things would get more ‘interesting’ from this point on. The cardiologist came into the room, and I couldn’t help thinking that he was not exactly the best model for heart health that I’d ever seen- he was morbidly obese, and looked for all the world as if he’d be better off on this bed rather than me.

I was then maneuvered on to a set of scales to be weighed, (Not very easy when you’re wired up to the mains and have plumbing shoved into your arm!) and then asked to resume my position on the bed. It seems that the Dobutamine drug must be diluted according to body weight, as it can be quite toxic if too concentrated- I just hoped the  wiring and plumbing didn’t weigh too much and make them think I was bigger than I really was. The phial of Dobutamine was then diluted accordingly, and the syringe was placed into an electronic gizmo that would gradually release the drug into my bloodstream via the cannula over the course of the test. The test, I was told, would last about 45 minutes. The syringe started to compress, I felt a warm trickle into my arm, and the test began.

At first, my heart was fluttering and pumping away quite nicely, and I thought this didn’t feel too bad at all- then Mediterranean guy started to take ultrasound picture, and I began to feel progressively more uncomfortable. Being middle-aged, and possessing a little padding around the middle as some of my age group are wont to do, it meant that he had to push the camera hard into me to get a decent image, while making sure the camera was between my ribs. In some instances, he had to practically climb over me to get decent camera angles, and if he’d pushed that darned camera any harder, it would have been able to take a picture from the inside!

While this is going on, my heart rate went progressively higher, until my head began to swim, my chest felt like it was crushed in a vice, and my arms felt like lead. I couldn’t breathe properly, and Morbidly Obese Cardiologist Guy kept telling me I was doing very well, and to breathe deeply and slowly. All I could do by way of response was moan “Uuuuhh”. “That’s it, you’re doing very well!” “Uhhh.” “Is everything OK?” Uhh?” As you can see, the conversation was stimulating. All the while, my heart was hammering away, threatening to burst out of my chest like some vicious little alien creature.

My heart thteatened to burst out of my chest like some vicious little alien creature.

All in all, I was surprised and more than a little terrified by just how far my heart could be pushed in this test- it had been pushed to limits that were beyond any physical exercise on my part, and I was convinced that I would have a heart attack sooner or later, but mercifully I also learned that the heart is a surprisingly strong organ, and it can take a hell of a lot of punishment before giving out, and for that I’m eternally grateful. Once the test was over, I was asked to lie still for a little while until I felt better, after which I could dress and go home. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, and the driver had reversed back to have another go afterward. Once home, I was told, I could take my beta-blocker and relax.

Let me tell you that I was shaken for a good 24 hours afterward, and I felt so battered and bruised- both internally from the drug pushing my heart and externally from Mediterranean guy crawling all over me and shoving the camera between my ribs- that I had my left arm in a sling for the day and had to call off sick at work. That was the hard part, which is thankfully over. A few weeks later, I got my test results, which concluded that I have ‘significantly reduced blood flow to most of the heart muscle caused by narrowing of one or more of the cardiac arteries’, which means that the next stage takes place in another hospital at the end of July.

This will be a Cardiac Catheterisation Angiogram, which will entail having a tube put into my main artery via either my groin or my arm, and injecting dye directly into the heart to be x-rayed, so that they can see exactly where the arteries have been narrowed, and insert stents into them to reopen them again. if all goes well, this will all be done in one operation, meaning that I’ll have the corrective surgery the moment they see where it will be needed. I’ll go into greater detail later on, as I have another appointment in June where the procedure will be explained in greater detail, but I’ll wait until everything is over and done with before I post about this again. in the meantime, I have a couple of interesting things to post concerning my favourite music, and that will keep me in positive vibes for the big day.

Asia Live At The London Forum, due out in April.

Familiar because it was the same cover that the official live bootleg of the London Forum show came in, and the album this time is billed as ‘Asia Live At The London Forum’. It seems that the guys have decided to release the recording of the London show as part of their official discography- and I’m on there, amongst the crowd! The tracklisting curiously misses the encore of the show, which featured ‘Go’ and ‘Heat Of The Moment’, but every other highlight is there, and according to John Wetton on his guestbook (He is a really nice guy and so approachable online.) the mix of this album will be identical to the soundboard recording that I bought after the show- testimony to the fact that the quality of recordings you get with official bootlegs from Concert Live are a million times better than the tinny old stuff you used to get from unofficial recordings made on a portable tape player.

If you enjoyed my review of Asia’s London show, don’t hesitate to place an advanced order for the CD, which will be out in April. This is one of the best live recordings of the band available, and worth every penny of the £8.99 asking price- and no, I’m not being paid to advertise!

Readers of Book Of Daze will recall one of my earliest posts- (possibly the earliest, that began life over on the Den, when my blog site wasn’t split into three entities,) the one concerning my discovery of the Alexander Technique and how it helped me cope with a bad back that had plagued me for years following an injury. This post is a sequel of sorts that has developed into a full-blown spin-off in its’ own right, so I’d best get on with finishing the preamble and just post the damn stuff already.

During the course of December I’d been plagued with another bout of back pain, which I put down to ‘that time of year’ when cold weather makes aches and pains all the more pronounced. This time, however, it seemed different somehow. The injury I had was initially caused when I was carrying some boxes of tiles into the house for a spot of DIY and tore the paraspinal ligaments all down the left side, so the bouts of back pain I used to get would radiate from my left shoulder to the collarbone around the front, and my arm would feel heavy and ‘dead’. The pain would subside once the muscle tissue warmed up from moderate exercise and the blood began pumping properly.

This time, the pain would only go once I had stopped moving, and would re-start if I began moving again. By late January I also began to experience crushing pains along my chest, and I would find myself fighting for breath until I stood still. This got to be quite debilitating, as even short trips out to the shops turned into a major expedition, and physical activity of any kind was unthinkable, or at best fraught with bouts of pain. I thought that I must have done something to agitate my shoulder again that didn’t seem to want to go, so it was off to the GP for a check-up.

I thought that the visit to the Doctor would be routine; she’d look at my back, prescribe some painkillers and a course of osteopathy (Or even a chiropractor), and that would be that. Instead, she wrote out a prescription for some painkillers, asked me to describe again in detail the type of pain and discomfort I felt, and then started filling out forms. “I’m going to book you an appointment with the local hospitals’ rheumatology unit to check your back, but at the same time, I’m also going to book you an appointment with the cardiology unit just in case.” At the time, I didn’t think much of this, as I was convinced that my back was playing up again. ‘By all means book me in to the cardiologist if you so wish- they won’t find anything’, I thought.

I think you should have your heart checked, just in case.

So, next follows a blood test with full cholesterol readings, then the trip to the cardiologist. My height is measured, (I’m not as tall as I thought I was, which now means I’m overweight, albeit by a few pounds- thanks, Doc!) then I’m weighed, and more questions are asked about my back pain. I’m wired up to an ECG and my pulse is read, followed by my blood pressure.  I’m told that my cholesterol level has improved since my last test over a year ago (For something completely unrelated), but it’s still not perfect yet. The next part of the test would have had me pounding away on a treadmill while further heart readings were taken, but they decide not to do that as it may agitate my back pain. Instead there are more questions. “Where does the pain start? How does it spread? What does it feel like? Is it only on the left side?” and so on. With each answer, the cardiologist says “Uh- huh” and ticks a box on her sheet. When she’s done, she turns the sheet around and shows me. It’s a check sheet for the symptoms of Angina, and every last box has a tick. Wha-at? Angina? No way- I have a bad back! I’m reassured, and the next test will be in a week or so, where I’ll have a CT angiogram scan They can look at my heart without having to put me on a treadmill and find that all is well, and then I can have my back looked at, so that was that. In the meantime, my heart rate is a bit fast, so I’m recommended to go on Beta-blockers for three days prior to the test to slow my heart down enough for a decent reading, so it’s back to the GP for a prescription.

The CT angiogram scan is the next hurdle. On the day I’m seen to by a nurse, who reassures me, and puts a cannula in my arm. During the test, iodine dye will be fed through the cannula into my arm, where it will then go through the veins and arteries of my heart so that the blood flow will show up on the scanner, she tells me. Iodine? Isn’t that poisonous? I’m reassured that it’s a very dilute solution that won’t have any harmful effects, so that’s all right. Next, I go into the scan room, and I’m confronted by the weirdest looking piece of kit since Stargate.

The weirdest piece of kit since Stargate.

The scanner has a revolving laser that whizzes around the body as you lie on the table, and is able to look right through the body at the internal organs. When you’re on that table and the machine starts whirring around, you think you’re in some kind of Austin Powers time travel experiment, and you’ll go spinning off through the loop of the machine into 1968. I was told that I’d feel a warm flush as the iodine went in, so I waited for that sensation as the scanner began its’ work. There were two preliminary scans- one to calibrate the equipment, and one to scan the calcium levels in my heart before the dye went in. I was placed on the bed, and the scan team left the room to sit in the control centre, where they could operate the machine from behind a window I could see over my shoulder. I was told to breathe in and hold my breath while each scan took place, then braced myself for the dye injection.

Spinning off into 1968!

That was when everything began to take on a rather bizarre twist. The scan team came back in the room and politely told me that there’d been a complication, and that the cardiologist would have a chat with me. By chance, I could see the monitor screen in the control room, and instead of those black-and-white diagrams you see in biology text books of veins and arteries, I saw what looked like the splatter pattern of  a balloon filled with white custard that had impacted on a blackboard. “Is that my heart?” I said incredulously. “No, that’s someone else’s scan- the cardiologist will explain everything to you.” That phrase rang every fib-detector alarm in my head. Of course it’s my heart, why would they have a scan of someone else’s heart up there?

So the cardiologist takes my wife and I aside, and explains what happened. Apparently, I have got angina, and what’s more, it’s atherosclerosis. The scan detected calcium in the arteries around my heart, which were the cause of all my pain. My back was fine, and the subsequent visit to the rheumatology clinic confirmed it- only the kind of wear and tear that would be normal for someone of my age, so the old DIY war-wound had healed completely. My medical records were checked, and it seems that I’ve inherited my father’s genes.

My father died aged 50, and although a drinker and smoker, that wouldn’t have killed him at so young an age unless he already had heart disease. I’m a non-smoker and gave up alcohol when I had digestive problems two years ago, and because my diet is largely vegetarian, my cholesterol has improved, so I was spared the heart attacks my dad had when he was my age, so that’s some comfort. I’ve been told to stay on the Beta-blockers for now, and my next test will be a stress-test echocardiogram, to determine how serious my condition is, and from there work out a course of treatment. I’ve also been given a lot of advice on diet and nutrition, what kind of tweaks I can make to lower my cholesterol further and help my treatment, and to eat plenty of oily fish. On the bright side, since I’ve been on the medication, trips out and physical activity have been back to normal, and feel as if I’ve never been injured or ill at all, so that’s nice.

So there it is, I am now suddenly faced with the fact that I have heart disease, and all that remains is for the next test at the end of this month, so that I’ll know how my condition can be treated. Once that’s done, I’ll have a better idea of what’s happening, so hopefully normal blogs will be resumed from that point on. In the meantime, I consider myself very lucky that my condition was discovered before it had a chance to give me a heart attack, and I fully intend to live at least half again as long as my father, so I’m following all the dietary advice to the letter, and keeping all trains of thought firmly fixed on the positive.

The venue itself wasn’t particularly large; holding around 2300 people, but as the fans trickled up to the barriers awaiting entry it was clear that Asia was a big draw. By the time we’d found our seats and settled in the hall began to fill, and when the gig started, the venue was packed to the rafters. The merchandise stand is generally the first port of call for music fans, as a variety of t-shirts and memorabilia can usually be found to snap up a memento of the show. There were quite a few items on sale there including some stunning t-shirts, and one particular thing which I’d never encountered before, but which I think is a brilliant idea.

In the past, many bands had problems with bootleggers; fans who’d smuggle a tape recorder into the show to record the gig- sometimes for personal mementos, but invariably involving mass reproduction and money changing hands, none of which the bands ever got to see. The quality of such bootlegs were usually, by dint of their recording methods, awful at best, so those who bought them would usually end up being rather disappointed at what they got.

This time, there’s a company called Concert Live, who do direct recordings from the soundboard at the venue, which although a little basic by studio production standards, are still a million times better than the sort of tinny stuff you’d get illegally in times gone by, in stereo, and almost as good as a commercially available live album. (If you have access to mixing equipment, you can probably produce something that would rival the best ones out there.) This time, you pay your money up front and receive a small card upon which your email address is written, (So that they can send you promotional offers for other shows they record) and after the show, you form an orderly queue, where you exchange your card for a professionally packaged CD that was recorded and made a matter of minutes earlier. Everyone’s a winner- the audience get a recording of the show, bootleggers are discouraged, and the band make even more money. The miracles of modern technology, eh?

So, t-shirts bought, live ‘official bootleg’ CD’s ordered, we took our seats and waited for the band. The PA was merrily playing a compilation of songs by modern prog maestros Muse, until the lights dimmed and the audience began to excitedly look stagewards. The PA was now triumphantly belting out the Maestoso from Camille Saint-Saens’ 3rd symphony with organ, which was wonderfully appropriate for Asia’s music, being symphonic, keyboard-driven, strident, confident and epic. Before the proud fanfare of organs had time to give way to the quieter pastoral passage, the band took to the stage and positively exploded into the opening bars of ‘I Believe’.

John Wetton and Carl Palmer of Asia, playing at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

Seeing the band performing live, one gets a chance to appreciate the techniques each band member uses on their various instruments; during some numbers, there would be a need for two different guitar sounds, which for other bands would necessitate either having a session musician joining the band, or having the sound compromised by using a double-necked guitar. Compromise is not a word in Steve Howe’s dictionary when it comes to music, as he would usually wear two guitars around his neck, each one tuned and set up for the appropriate sound. This time around, maybe because of his back trouble, (I’m not sure,) one of the guitars (A Line 6 Variax) had been mounted on a stand and placed in front of him so that he could crane forward to play the appropriate passages on that one before resuming with his Gibson Exhaust System.

John Wetton’s bass style is unique to watch, and also forms a crucial part of Asia’s punchy guitar sound. John’s technique is to strap a guitar pick to his thumb and strum the bass- in this case his trusty Gibson Victory, effectively giving the band a deeper, throatier rhythm guitar. If you listen to the opening bars of Time Again from their debut album after the intro finishes, you can hear just how effective that driving rhythm section is. John is one incredible bass player, and his style is every bit as crucial to Asia’s sound as Steve’s guitar, Carl’s drums or Geoff’s keyboards. Geoff Downes was clearly at home in front of his massive bank of keyboards, having them arranged in three banks in such a way that they didn’t prevent the audience from seeing him, and he switched between the banks with consummate ease. Of Carl Palmer, I can only say the man is a drum God, and leave later comments to speak for themselves.

Geoff Downes, playing keyboards for Asia at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

One touch I rather liked was the screen at the back of the stage, which changed to reflect the various album covers that the songs came from, so that any new fan could easily work out which albums to buy based on what he saw. After ‘I Believe’, the band went right back to the beginning of their career with the classic hit ‘Only Time Will Tell’. When the famous keyboard riff of the intro rang out, the crowd roared their approval, and from that point the band had the audience eating from the palms of their hands. The next three songs were from their most recent albums, and were ‘Holy War’, ‘Never Again’ and ‘Through My Veins’, before John, Geoff and Carl left the stage to Steve Howe for his solo spot.

Steve Howe takes centre stage for his solo slot at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

Playing his trademark Martin Steve Howe Signature classical guitar, Steve demonstrated why he is a master of his art, and one of the all-time great guitar legends, easily moving from rock to classical, jazz and light-hearted melodies that had the audience clapping along with him. From there, it was Steve’s turn to take a break as John and Geoff took to the stage once more. Not many bands have the confidence to allow individual members to have the chance to shine, but then Asia are not just any old band. Each member has a long pedigree behind them from prog rock’s great and good, and each one is a consummate professional at the very top of their game.

John Wetton and Geoff Downes, when not writing and performing for Asia, have their own project which they refer to as Icon- it has produced three absolutely fantastic albums, which reveal the main lyrical and musical influences in Asia to anyone who has given them a listen. Here, they charmed the audience with keyboard and vocal-only versions of two Asia classics, a lovely singalong version of the dancey ‘Don’t Cry’ opener from Alpha, followed by the classic power-ballad ‘The Smile Has Left Your Eyes’ from the same album. At the end of ‘Smile…’ they were joined once again by Steve and Carl to bring the track to a rousing climax, before closing the first half with another Alpha classic, ‘Open Your Eyes’.

John Wetton, leading the audience in a singalong at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

After the interval, during which we’d only just got our breath back, Asia returned to the stage, firing off their recent single ‘Finger On The Trigger’ (Which incidentally began life as an Icon track) and their early classic ‘Time Again’ in rapid succession. “The next song,” said John, “Is all about how wonderful it is to be alive.” The crowd hollered their agreement, as at that moment, we simply had to agree with him. Then came the Phoenix classic ‘An Extraordinary Life’. Asia had well and truly Carpe’d that Diem, all right.

Geoff Downes, during An Extraordinary Life at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

Next up came ‘The End Of The World’ from their new album, followed by Carl Palmer’s turn to take centre stage during the Alpha classic ‘The Heat Goes On’. To try to describe Carl’s drum solo is impossible, except to say that anything I’d previously seen by him in ELP videos simply paled by comparison. Even dropping a drumstick didn’t faze him, as he simply swapped hands and produced another from beneath his stool without missing a beat. If you don’t believe me look for yourself, as some kind soul has filmed this entire number and put it on Youtube, which means I can include it here. Fortunately, I was located to the extreme right of the screen on the front row, just out of camera shot!

After breathlessly thanking the audience, Carl then introduced Asia’s final song for the set, a classic from their first album, ‘Sole Survivor’. Not content with that, the audience begged for more, and they certainly got it. For their encore, the band first went to their third album (One which hadn’t featured Steve Howe on guitar, as he was busy working with Yes at the time) and produced the rocker ‘Go’. With Steve now on guitar duty, the guitar sound was less ‘metal’ than the original track, and his deftness for melody really shone through and gave the track a completely new feel- one that I certainly like.

Steve Howe and John Wetton rocking out at the HMV London Forum. (Picture by the author)

With ‘Go’ under their belt, the band now reached the moment we’d all been waiting for yet also dreaded, the sing-along to their greatest hit ‘Heat Of The Moment’. Waiting for because it was a guaranteed highlight, yet dreaded, because we knew that after this, it would all be over and we’d have to go home. I’d never heard two thousand sets of lungs sing along as heartily as that, and the band took their bows to rapturous applause. Geoff came to the front of the stage, and I was able to get to shake his hand.

What a hell of a show, and what an incredible night! The good feeling lasted until well after the show, with fans giving rousing renditions of ‘Heat Of The Moment’ on the tube home, as well as heated conversations with each other about what they’d just seen. I think I must have spoken to at least a dozen people I’d never met before, and each conversation was like talking to an old friend. An incredible vibe, and thanks to that ‘official bootleg’ CD, I can relive it at any time I like. It was a shame to hear afterwards that Steve had hurt his back again during the show, as the band then had to cancel their last date at Falmouth, but there was certainly a ‘last gig of the tour’ atmosphere there in London, and being the consummate professional he was, Steve still gave it 100%, despite being in pain. In conclusion, I have to say without any hint of bias whatsoever, that this was the best live performance by any band I have ever seen, and should they tour next year, I won’t hesitate to snap up tickets again.

So, the new laptop is now sitting there, looking enticing in its’ matt black shell, waiting for me to plug it in and switch it on. And that’s when the fun starts. OK, I know that a new PC will generally give you five minutes of the company’s spiel of ‘welcome to the world of computing, so here is what you do’, but Jesus Christ there should be an option to disable that sodding thing if you have the faintest idea of what you want to do. Something like that annoying paper clip you used to get on Microsoft Word- you know, the irritating thing that would tap on your screen, and interrupt you with a cheery “Hello, it looks like you’re typing a letter. Would you like to type this yourself, or do you want me to f*ck it up for you?” That major irritant was dismissed to digital oblivion at the click of a mouse. I’d like something like that, please. “Hello, and welcome to the wonderful new world of computing. Before you begin, please-” *click* Nope, sod off. I can make my way around on my own, thanks.

*click* No thanks, just bog off and leave me alone.

Then there are the updates. Why, for the love of all things holy, does a new operating system have to have so many bloody updates? Why didn’t they get the thing right first time? No word of a lie, I’ve been using this thing since Friday, and on the first day alone, the damn thing held me up from what I wanted to do because it wanted to download and install 38 updates. Thirty Eight. On the second day there were about five, and on Sunday, there were fifteen of them. Surely all these updates will eventually slow this super-fast operating system down, until it’s as sluggish as hell before you feel the need to replace your tired old PC for a new one, with a new operating system, only to have the same cycle repeat, ad nauseum?

But my bile is reserved for this last niggle- possibly the most sneaky, evil, underhand piece of software ever devided by man or lawyer. For the benefit of anyone in the US or outside of Europe, I’m talking about the ‘Choose your Internet Browser’ software. This was introduced by the European Union, mainly because they don’t like Microsoft or anything American, and they don’t like the idea that Internet Explorer comes bundled with Windows. Instead, their lawyers insisted that Microsoft install this piece of software, which will pop up every day, asking- nay, demanding that you choose a default web browser. And the annoying thing is that you can’t get rid of it! If you go to the Control Panel, and look at the Add/Remove Programs list, it’s not there! You cannot uninstall this program. You can deactivate it, however, but only if you go online to look for the solution of how to do it. I did this on the last laptop I purchased, you know- the one that blew up at the beginning of this post.

This time around, though, the evil swines behind this software became truly devious bastards. When the program pops up, you can’t dismiss it until you’ve chosen your default browser, and should you choose Internet Explorer, the bloody thing removes the desktop shortcut as well as the shortcut in your main startup menu. I could almost hear some devious EU programmer in a faux Inspector Clouseau voice, muttering to himself: “Ha! You want to use theese program? Pah- now you cannot find eet!” I’m telling you, I was so annoyed at what happened, I was convinced it had uninstalled the program, so I found myself downloading IE9 before I’d realised what I’d done. So now, thanks to some bozo in an office in Brussels, I now have to jump between several browsers until full functionality of IE9 is sorted out.

To whomever devised this stupid, obnoxious, sneaky piece of software, I can only suggest this. If you really want people in the EU to choose a web browser that’s a viable alternative to Microsoft or anything American, why not come up with a browser yourself, instead of being petty, nasty and spiteful to all those people who just want to get on with their lives, and who don’t really give a crap one way or the other? The only alternative browsers offered by the software were Google Chrome amd Mozilla Firefox, both of which were also American. If you can offer, say, a half-decent French or German program, maybe we’ll start taking you seriously, but this is pettiness elevated to the levels of the absurd.

Other than that, my new laptop is just fantastic, thanks. I am a PC, and petty stupidity was the EU’s idea.

I first discovered their music back in 1982, when, as a fledgeling rocker of eighteen, I used to listen to hard rock and heavy metal, never far away from bands like Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and their like. Up until then, every band whose music I collected and listened to was recommended to me by school friends, friends at technical college and stuff I heard from my brother’s extensive collection of music. Up until then I hadn’t discovered any bands of my own. 1982 changed all that for me.

This was the year that Asia released their eponymous debut album, which featured their smash hits ‘Heat Of The Moment’ and ‘Only Time Will Tell’, and I first became aware of the album when looking around my local record store. (Those of you of my age will fondly remember the days of vinyl, and how collecting and playing music was somehow more of a loving ritual than the clicking and playing of music files is these days.) I was looking through the shelves to see if any album covers stood out from the crowd- in those days, the first indicator that anyone had as to whether an album was worth a spin was the quality of the cover art, and the best bands could afford some stunning work, which is why we have so many classic albums and covers today. That was when I first set eyes on the most amazing artwork- a beautiful, rainbow-hued sea serpent bursting through the waves, playing with a giant pearl, under the striking band logo that proudly stated ‘Asia’. Those of you who are familiar with Yes will recognise the artist as Roger Dean, whose work has graced many a quality album sleeve, and whose floating islands artwork must surely have inspired James Cameron’s visions of Pandora in Avatar.

The striking cover for Asia's debut album, by Roger Dean.

Intrigued, I turned the sleeve over to look at the back. The band members were listed as John Wetton, Geoffrey Downes, Steve Howe and Carl Palmer. Carl Palmer was familiar to me at that time, as I grew to love listening to my brother’s collection of ELP records- one which drove me to collect them on CD many years later on. I realised then that this must be a rock album, so made my purchase and went home. I since learned that John Wetton originally came from King Crimson, another band I grew to love, replacing Greg Lake, who left to join ELP, (isn’t it amazing how incestuous all these prog bands are!) and that Steve and Geoff were originally from Yes; Geoff joining them following his smash hit ‘Video Killed The Radio Star’ with The Buggles. All these revelations helped nudge me to make more musical discoveries, which culminated in my earlier post when I finally took the plunge to start listening to Yes. (OK, I’m a slow starter…)

When I played the album, I was blown away. This was utterly unlike any rock music I had ever heard before. Musically very catchy, yet undeniably rocky, with complex vocal harmonies, rich keyboard sounds and technically brilliant musicianship. I loved this album, and wore the vinyl out- buying a cassette of the same so that I could play it on my walkman. (Later on, I bought the CD as well.) I loved this band, and still do- and they were my discovery!

Over the years, I bought each album as it came out religiously; Asia were the first band which ever inspired me to collect their entire works. During those years I went to see several bands live, but many of those were bands whose work I knew, yet only possessed a scant few albums of. At that time, Asia had the supergroup tag, and tickets to see them live were as rare as hen’s teeth. I sadly concluded that I’d never get to see my heroes live, yet I was overjoyed to discover in 2008 that the original four members got back together and started to record albums again. Two amazing records resulted; the comeback album Phoenix, and their latest, Omega.

The icing on my personal cake came when the band announced dates for their current tour in the UK in December, so I threw caution to the wind and snapped up tickets to go and see them at long last. Come December, expect a concert review and maybe some photographs as well! For now, here’s a taster of Asia live, playing their hit ‘Heat Of The Moment’. That’ll be enough to keep me going until I get to see it for real!

This brings me around to one of my favourite categories of music, which by its’ very definition, will always be closest to my heart- that of progressive rock, or prog, as it’s more popularly known. Prog entails stretching music to its’ limits, and experimenting with new sounds, tempos and harmonies to create something that’s utterly unique- and it’s right up my alley. Bands like Marillion, Jethro Tull, Emerson, Lake and Palmer, King Crimson and their ilk have always fired my imagination, and always find their way on to my CD player or walkman. Indeed- my all time favourite rock band- Asia- started off as a ‘supergroup’ formed from members of King Crimson, ELP and Yes.

Strange then, for me, that I had not listened to any music by Yes until relatively recently. Apart from 90125, Yes’s groundbreaking album of the 1980′s (Which most people seem to have in their collection somewhere), I had not heard any of their back-catalogue. Thanks to the BBC, with their Prog Rock documentary, I caught a few snippets of their music and was inspired to find out more. As my birthday loomed, Mrs. Greywoolfe asked me what I’d like to receive, and I’d found a rather nicely packaged boxset of 5 CDs by Yes, called simply ‘In A Word..’ The box features some stunning artwork by Roger Dean, who did most of the album covers for Yes, and many of the early ones for Asia, and the tracks chronicle the musical history of Yes from their early beginnings up to the present, with a few previously unreleased tracks thrown in for good measure. The boxset comes complete with a detailed book giving the full history of the band, as well as detailing which tracks came from which albums.

In A Word.. Yes. A fantastic 5 CD boxset in anyone's language.

Listening to the CDs has been an absolute joy, and I must admit that I’ve never been as awestruck or inspired by any music as I have with this. At Starship Trooper, I was dumbstruck. Turn Of The Century had me close to tears with the beauty of it all. Describing their music is difficult, but the best comparison I can give is that they use rock music instruments and rock music techniques, but structure their songs like classical suites or movements. I can honestly say that I have become a firm fan, and I’ve already begun collecting their albums, starting off with Union, together with a re-release of 90125 with previously unreleased tracks. To anyone else out there who wants to try something different and hasn’t listened to Yes yet- do it. You won’t regret it.

Alll my health issues, including the scare I had last year, have their origins in an incident I had over three years ago in which I dislocated my left shoulder, and tore the muscles on my back along that side. Since then, it’s been painful to walk, exercise or do most things, and especially so in cold or wet weather, so winter is not my personal favourite season du jour, so to speak. I’ve seen an osteopath, but while the relief from my aches and pains was very real, it was only fleeting, and I couldn’t tolerate the idea of popping around to the clinic for the forseeable future to have my shoulder seen to in order to set my back straight.

It was during one of my many sorties to various bookshops that I had a breakthrough, as I was looking around for some more material for diet and exercise ideas, when I came upon a book describing the Alexander Technique. In a nutshell, the Alexander Technique is a method of promoting maximum efficiency in the body, by observing movement and breathing, and improving ones’ posture to allow the body to move correctly. Essentially, we are all creatures of habit, and we all move in ways that we find personally comfortable. While these movements may be comfortable, they may not necessarily be right, and this leads to aches, pains, and sometimes much worse.

Since my shoulder injury, I realised that I was not moving correctly, and tightened my left side to offer support for the arm- which has led to the pain not going away, as the muscles now hurt from being held wrongly, and not allowing the arm to move correctly. My posture was all wrong, and the osteopathy worked because during those times, my back was re-aligned and moving properly, so alleviating discomfort and pain.

Through reading this book and doing further research, like watching videos of proper movement, I’ve been able to correct, by degrees, the way I sit, stand and walk, and so far, my back and shoulder have increased in strength quite nicely, and given me hardly a niggle, despite the recent bout of cold and wet weather. I used to enjoy walking quite a bit, and my aches and pains denied me this enjoyment sans discomfort, but over the weekend I enjoyed a very pleasant walk across London that would have been unthinkable only months before, as my back would have caved in long before my legs would ache from exhaustion.

I’m now looking at the green-chain walks in my area, and planning some nice trips for the spring and summer!