Masquerading With Dawn is definitive proof that a few music aficionados and die-hard Fruupp followers can do something that’s just really cool, even (to quote Sir Raymond Douglas Davies) in a “mixed up muddled up shook up world.”
These fan-club people located a recording of the band in concert from Dec. 6, 1975 at the legendary Friar’s Club. Considering the audience source, this recording is of really nice bootleg quality, as all the instruments are quite distinct, with an aged sparkle. There is audience applause and a few voiced comments, but that just adds to the weird and warm ambiance of this time capsule treasure. Yeah, this is two-disc (vinyl and CD) set is a great big deal for Fruupp fans everywhere. And, yeah (again) it does conjure the joy of prog-rock youth!
Now, for the initiate: Fruupp was a second-generation progressive-rock band from Ireland that managed an original sound. So many other of their ilk copied their heroes. Starcastle and Druid were Yes disciples; Triumvirat recorded some of the best albums ELP never managed to make. And there are just too many Gabriel/Genesis retreads to mention. But Fruupp inhabited its own and very Irish mystical universe.
Their first album Future Legends toyed with the classics, crystalized the melodies of folk legends into beautiful prog complexities, and then, quite simply, rocked hard. “Lord of the Incubus” (included on this live album in an extended version!) is definitive proof of rock ‘n’ roll street credibility. Then, the second album Seven Secrets slowed the heartbeat but added emotional depth. Oh my — Stephen Houston’s “Faced with Shekinah” deals with intense divine love. And “Three Spires” is an acoustic voiced ode to youthful lost love. This is lovely and intelligent prog music.
Prince of Heaven’s Eyes was a concept album (with an absolutely gorgeous cover and Paul Charles booklet!) mostly written by keyboard guy Stephen Houston which recounted in words and music Mud Flannigan’s search for the legendary pot of end of the rainbow gold. Now, for those prog rock enthusiasts who have been once bitten and twice shy about dubious ’70s concept albums, there’s no fear here of an English public-school guy pretending to be Puerto Rican with a spray gun. Nobody is crawling around on any carpets, and, there’s not a single Slipperman to be found in these grooves. The record even received a welcome review in Melody Maker!
Sadly, Houston left after this album to become a Methodist minister, but his keyboard shoes were ably filled by fellow Belfast guy John Mason. The fourth album Modern Masquerades was perhaps their most sophisticated release, as King Crimson alumni Ian McDonald produced and played a bit of sax on the record.
Of course, the original vinyl copies are now worth the pot of gold, for which young Mud Flannigan searched, but the Esoteric remastered (and everything else) compact discs are reasonably priced in a box set. Prog people, buy this music.
Now, to Masquerading With Dawn: The first disc explodes with Friar’s Club intensity. It opens with three songs from Modern Masquerades. Yes, John Mason is on keyboards here. “Masquerading with Dawn” is played with a quick pulse, as Peter Farrelly’s vocals soar over Vincent McCusker’s warm melodic guitar. And Martin Foye’s percussion anchors the melodic mayhem.
The same is true for “Mystery Might,” which again is a tough emotional fun-house ride, with very live vocals that tear through the melody. Quite frankly, this live vibe, especially with the volcanic keyboards, beats the studio version by an urgent mile with such a raw pulse. Then, “Misty Morning Way” is led by a lovely guitar melody that tumbles into the Fruupp signature (sort of) folk-rock Celtic magic.
Then, there’s a bit of that Prince of Heaven’s Eyes song cycle. “It’s All Up Now” yearns for puzzle pieces of wisdom and love. This is just happy prog music. The band throws in “Lord of the Incubus” to create drama, and, as said, this tune from the first album just rocks with prog muscle. This is juxtaposed by the love propelled “Annie Austere,” which smiles with Mud Flannigan’s percussion propelled love passion.
The first disc ends with the quietude of “Knowing You,” a beautiful tribute to all our better angels, and this interlude flows into “The Perfect Wish,” a sublime finale which deflates any prog pomposity with a warm melodic heartbeat that wraps itself around an eternal Jungian quest for that psychological pot of gold. It’s a really nice dramatic sun-setted ending.
On to the second disc of Masquerading With Dawn: new keyboard guy John Mason’s composition “Gormenghast” gets a really nice spooky into, which then flows into the almost 12-minute ride with a blessed symphonic prog melodically convoluted drama that dissolves into yet another ephemeral keyboard sunset. It’s really nice stuff. Another Mason epic, “Sheba’s Song,” follows with a much more strident pulse, and a razor-sharp guitar solo slicing through a rather great jazzy interlude before the initial melody returns to yet another colorful (to quote Richard Thompson) “dimming of the day.”
As (the great) Procul Harum once sang, “Still there will be more.” Indeed, the guitar-roughed “Decision” quickly descends into a wishful melody, until that Peter Farrelly yawp (which we who own the original albums all have come to anticipate!) signals return of rock ‘n’ roll mayhem with all four Fruupp cylinders burning. The old drama is preserved, thankfully, in endless amber beauty. Then, the pensive “Song for a Thought” drifts with band introductions before it gets into a crowd stomping groove that, once again, resolves itself into a melody that revolves around some distant but very warm and eternally spinning progressive rock planet.
And then the Friar’s Club crowd erupts, as they should.
Just so you know, in my Midwest state of Wisconsin, we had an American football dynasty led by the legendary coach Vince Lombardi who won a lot of championships, but even after the occasional defeat, he still proclaimed: “We didn’t lose the game; we just ran out of time.” This can also be said for the progsters Fruupp, who recorded four wondrous records, and as witnessed in the grooves of this belated live set, never lost anything. Sadly, they too just ran out of that very same time.
That said, the encore is “On a Clear Day,” a Gustav Holst-influenced tune left off the first record that starts with a lounge-styled vocal but then grooves to a heartbeat that recalls Yes’ “Roundabout.” Then the blessed Banshees (sans Siouxie!) once again descend from an always-current Celtic mythology and play, without the need of safety pins and spiked hair, pretty great and always intense magical rock ‘n’ roll music in search of an eternal pot of mythical Mud Flannigan’s golden dreams.
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