In 2020, Prog decided to brave Chris De Burgh’s back catalogue to see if there was any truth in the suggestion that he had some prog leanings, at least in his early days. The results were convincing.
On the Prog Magazine Readers group on Facebook, someone asked if anyone else agreed that Chris De Burgh had, on occasion, dabbled with prog. As one might expect, the self-righteous and indignant puffed up their chests and began shouting loudly, but gradually those less fond of the sound of their own voices began pointing out that yes, on occasion, there were more than a few moments.
The merest snippet of Lady In Red – De Burgh’s ubiquitous 1986 No.1 hit – will have most of us reaching for the sick bucket. Some press reports have suggested he’s not quite the housewife’s choice he’s often painted. However, there’s simply no denying that if you dip into his back catalogue at any point from his 1974 debut, Far Beyond These Castle Walls, to 1984’s Man On the Line, you’ll find something more than worthy to listen to.
There’s Spanish Train, The Traveller, Eastern Wind, Don’t Pay The Ferryman, to name but a few. Even the tongue-in-cheek ribaldry of Patricia The Stripper and his earnest Christmas contribution A Spaceman Came Travelling aren’t without merit if you’re the kind of prog fan who enjoys a bit of Al Stewart and The Alan Parsons Project. He also supported Supertramp on their 1974 Crime Of The Century tour.
The Parsons connection is largely the reason we’ve chosen De Burgh’s 1979 offering Crusader. It features then-members Ian Bairnson, David Paton and Stuart Elliott – all of whom were discovered by Parsons in Pilot – plus composer and arranger Andrew Powell, as well as Sky’s Francis Monkman on harpsichord.
True, De Burgh always had propensity for crooning balladry, typified here by the syrupy I Had The Love In My Eyes and The Girl With April In Her Eyes.
But elsewhere Crusader offers much, not least the four-part title track, which clocks in at nearly nine minutes and highlights De Burgh’s talent as a musical storyteller unafraid of the grandiose gesture.
Opening cut Carry On, reprised at the end of what would have been side one of the vinyl edition, is a typical fist-pumping rocker akin to later, more popular efforts The Ecstasy Of Flight (I Love The Night) and High On Emotion – both from 1984’s Man On The Line – while the macabre rush of The Devil’s Eye references his own Spanish Train from ’75.
The overbearing schmaltz of Lady In Red means this writer actually never bothered investigating whether De Burgh ever got his mojo back and did anything musically interesting after 1986; although one or two posts suggested there are a few more things worth seeking out. Maybe writing this means I’ll go back and explore.
But as far as the music Chris De Burgh created in his first decade, there’s a host of delights awaiting the curious prog fan.
