Gentle Giant – ‘Free Hand [Steven Wilson Mix]’ (1975; 2021 reissue)

Gentle Giant’s music, and Free Hand in particular, could be deemed rock ‘n’ roll (perhaps quite nude!) descending a Cubist staircase.

The forthcoming Steven Wilson re-mix of Free Hand, once again, lowers the volume, brightens the colors, and allows wonderful separation among instruments – all of which soundtrack the words of Transcendental American literature guru Ralph Waldo Emerson in his poem “Each and All,” which professes the necessity of “yielding to the perfect whole.” And, quite frankly, that’s practically the sacred creed (sans the Emerson bit!) of vinyl lovers everywhere.

And that is the certain curious pulse of the music of Gentle Giant, and they did it with a John Weathers backbeat, Kenny Minnear’s sublime keyboards, vibes galore, Gary Green’s rock-blues guitar, and the Shulman brothers’ vocals, sax, and bass, all laced with high-brow counterpoint (almost liturgical) harmonics.



But back to Cubism: As Jean Metzinger described it in the manifesto Note sur la Peinture, this form of art sought to analyze objects from different viewpoints, break them up and then reassemble them into a new abstract form. That’s pretty much what Gentle Giant does, too.

Now for the initiate who is interested in “acquiring the taste,” just get ready for a rock ‘n’ roll funhouse ride from a band who once proclaimed: “From the outset we have abandoned all preconceived thoughts on blatant commercialism.” Odd: For a band so interested in uncharted success, their tunes certainly cause brain synapses to jitterbug with dance steps well beyond those listed (the Shy Tuna is a fav!) in the B-52’s classic tune, “Rock Lobster.”

By the way, serious Gentle Giant fans can skip the next two paragraphs, pass Go, collect $200.00 (sadly not adjusted for inflation after all these years!) and just buy this newly re-mixed edition of a classic record on June 25, 2021. That’s just what we do.

“Just the Same,” the first song on Gentle Giant’s Free Hand, begins with finger pops (neatly panned between stereo speakers!), then a repeated fractured piano motif duets with an oddly terse guitar, and the commanding vocal reconfigures that initial fractured melody – all the while descending down that lovely staircase. Of course, there are vibes galore, a midsection that blows a bit of jazz, moments of Canterbury prog flow with keyboard colors everywhere, and some weird squiggly noise, well, squiggles happily through the tune. In the end, the song blissfully plays its free artistic hand of rock music that has been reassembled in an abstract form. Oh, and those finger snaps manage to pop up, again!

Then things get serious: “On Reflection” starts with a multi-part (almost Gregorian) chant. Really, the new Steven Wilson mix sparkles here as each voice gets its separate space, rather than the (very fine) Alucard/EMI and the 35th Anniversary Edition, both of whom present the voices as a combined force.

My friend, Mr. Radue (aka Jazz Guy), says of this new re-mix, “I could walk (in a very auditory manner) through the spaces between the various singers.”

That said, “On Reflection” continues beyond the counterpoint singing and adds piano and vibes which (perhaps) chime with a bit more clarity here. Then (oh my!!) Kenny Minnear’s angelic voice conjures Renaissance purity that duets with Ray Shulman’s violin. It’s a lovely moment that suddenly explodes into some of the best “analyzed, broken up, and reassembled” rock music I have ever heard.

Led Zeppelin once sang about “a bustle in your hedgerow.” Well, the music of Gentle Giant creates a (quite) curious bustle in a very English hedgerow.

That also said, the title tune, “Free Hand,” begins with a piano and acoustic guitar, but then it erupts into (not-so) Gentle Giant rock music that commands a tough lead vocal, yet (par for this course!) is cushioned by that comely combo of piano and acoustic guitar, until a stately mellotron hovers over the rock dissonance and, in weird and always savory oxtail-soup time, the tough vocal returns. It’s amazing oddball rock ‘n’ roll, that still, even in the midst of those prog-rocking years, manages an irresistible “Hippy Hippy Shake” Nude Descending a Staircase dancefloor jive and dive.

A disclaimer: This review is limited to the Steven Wilson re-mix of Gentle Giant’s Free Hand. However, the optional complete package also includes a Dolby Atmos 5.1 surround sound with animated visuals for each track on Blu-ray, and original flat mix, and equally original quad mix, and an instrumental mix (karaoke enthusiasts are advised to proceed with caution!). Vinyl folks get a double disc with that flat mix and the new Steven Wilson version.

You know, just trying to buy favorite reissued music these days requires cuneiform wisdom! And to quote (the great) Sir Raymond Douglas Davies: “Life is so complicated.”

Free Hand continues with more songs that reconstruct rock ‘n’ roll reality. “Time to Kill” bounces with a merry (albeit dissonant) vocal, but the song soon becomes a free fall of shattered notes, Ferris wheel instrumentation, and big spaces worthy of King Crimson, circa Starless and Bible Black.

By the way, Mr. Radue (aka Jazz Guy) suggested that Ray Shulman’s bass sound is the ultimate winner in this re-mix. Then, to change the pace, “His Last Voyage” slows the mood with epic drama. Once again, medieval voices hover in the midst of John Weathers’ percussion, vibes, a jazzy piano, and then Gary Green wah-wahs into a (quite) lovely parallel universe and a place where music is valued by its clever and patient beauty.

The instrumental “Talybont” really gets Renaissance specific, and truly equally the best of Gryphon, what with recorders, acoustic guitars, and harpsichord-like keyboards.

Finally, “Mobile” (with its violin intro) rocks with Fairport Convention’s “Walk a While” passion, has yet another tough vocal, and then is propelled by a lovely guitar solo, so that the album ends not “with a whisper,” but rather, this time, with a pretty decent wah-wah “bang.”

Free Hand catches Gentle Giant’s ending days of weird prog rock commerciality, just like their brilliant Power and the Glory, when a whole lot of college kids, thankfully, were searching for a soundtrack to a much-desired liberal arts education. That’s an always melodic descent down a staircase that hopes to analyze, break up, and reassemble life into a wondrous groove that is – and will always forever and a day be, quite simply (without regard for “blatant commercialism”), weird, wonderful, and, ultimately, “so sincere.”


Bill Golembeski

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