Tuesday, June 23, 2026

The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974)

Artist: Genesis
Release Year: 1974

Rating: 9/10



Track Listing: 1) The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway; 2) Fly on a Windshield; 3) Broadway Melody of 1974; 4) Cuckoo Cocoon; 5) In the Cage; 6) The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging; 7) Back in NYC; 8) Hairless Heart; 9) Counting Out Time; 10) Carpet Crawlers; 11) The Chamber of 32 Doors; 12) Lilywhite Lilith; 13) The Waiting Room; 14) Anyway; 15) The Supernatural Anaesthetist; 16) The Lamia; 17) Silent Sorrow in Empty Boats; 18) The Colony of Slippermen;  19) Ravine; 20) The Light Dies Down on Broadway; 21) Riding the Scree; 22) In the Rapids; 23) It.


Well, if you haven't done a rock opera, are you even a prog band?  This may no longer be the musical zenith of the Gabriel period, but it's certainly the philosophical one: the band starts out grounded in the shoes of a downtrodden Puerto Rican from the streets of New York, and ends up making metaphysical declarations about identity and reality.

And why not, because right from the pattering piano opening of the title track, we're thrust into a cavalcade of very real characters and scenes.  The melody may be a bit dramatic, like a musical would be, but we are talking about a young man with issues here, so maybe it fits.  There's a real sense of bright lights flashing across every little vignette to drop us into a bustling, tireless, grimy and brutal New York City for this epic story, and it's fantastic.

From here, I don't know how to summarize the story well.  An angry young delinquent named Rael navigates a surreal world in search of his brother John, who continuously eludes him.  In the process, Rale interacts with bizarre characters, cheats death, and is finally forced to surrender his manhood (literally and figuratively) in exchange for a chance at saving John.  Knowing the story may be helpful for understanding the music better, but the details of the specific scenes often don't make much sense, so you pick your poison.

Getting back to the individual songs, there's the dizzying, multi-part suite of "In the Cage" that alternates between impatient, thrashing frustration and momentary glimpses of hope, such a well-crafted piece that I don't even mind the synth wankery in the middle.  A highlight for sure.  Rael's reminiscing on "Back in NYC" is a bit awkward at times, but I can't imagine the album without all those bitter and sneering verses about the insatiable crisis of insecurity that the guy is dealing with-- a timeless struggle, as today's headlines would attest.  We have the morose, almost clinical instrumental of "Hairless Heart" to foreshadow Rael's ultimate fate, before the mood whiplashes to black comedy in the catchy-as-hell "Counting Out Time", in which Hackett's dorky guitar solo choreographs Rael's disastrous attempts at sex.  

The best, though, is "Carpet Crawlers".  That kind of creepiness and beauty can rarely be combined so well-- just imagine a rich mahogany dining hall with luxurious carpet and a nice fireplace...covered with withered, desperate invalids trying to scrape their way into a warped passage they'll never reach.  And the way the gentle music and vocals swell upward with each verse, like a warm fire creeping up on us, a bit too close for comfort, is up there with the greatest Genesis moments ever.

The second disc is less impressive, but the great moments are still emotional and beautiful.  I'd kick myself for not mentioning the advantage of Tony Banks often choosing classical piano over synths, which really helps keep this thing afloat.  I have no problem getting through the entire thing-- but I'd still advise wearing proper PPE just in case.  "The Colony of Slippermen" gets into some nicely weird grooves as Rael discovers the very symbolic need to cut off his schlong to regain his humanity (long story, so just trust me here).  Before that, Steve Hackett lets loose with some nice solos in "Anyway" and "Supernatural Anaesthetist", if you can pick them before the fatigue that starts to sink in.

Despite that, almost everything is alive and breathing, and all the characters are memorable.  It's just that the album as a whole is long and bloated and dense, and the second disc in particular drags a fair amount.  We don't need all the ambient noises like on "The Waiting Room" (though some are nicely creepy), and the climactic scene in the river could have been shortened to increase its urgency and impact.  Come on, did we really need a full four and a half tracks to describe Rael chasing down his severed pecker?   In other places, such as "The Lamia", the story enters some really interesting phases, but the depiction of that perfumed, sedative atmosphere bogs the music down too much unless you're really dedicated.

Then, there's the climax, in which Rael forsakes his fleeting chance to return home.  Why?  Because he sees his wayward brother drowning in the river, and it's after only a moment's deliberation that we hear the triumphant "HEY JOHN!" that makes the whole bloated journey worthwhile to me.  The rest is a bit sluggish, but still emotional and tender as Rael saves his brother and makes a discovery that I won't spoil.

I could go on even more about our protagonist, but this is long enough as is.  Rael is young in body, reckless in spirit, but ultimately immature and impotent against greater forces, and Peter Gabriel's performance to portray this complex character is second to none.  This was the instance of Gabriel giving the proverbial "last full measure", exhausting himself in the final push toward a higher purpose.  After this, he would quit the band and go on to a successful solo career that I suppose I'll have to dig into at some point.  

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