Procol Harum

The brilliant title track from A Salty Dog didn’t seafare so well on the charts, disappearing after one week. Hmph, landlubbers.

I’ve got a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell.

Macabre ruminations from the poet in residence and great guitar licks (but few memorable melodies) sum up Procol’s fourth.

The band’s fifth includes a few great tracks, but the split in musical personalities between Brooker and Trower is increasingly evident.

What do you get when you combine a rock band with a full orchestra and chorus? No, seriously, I’m asking.

The ornate rock of Procol Harum plus an orchestra proves to be a double-edged, jewel-encrusted sword.

An almost full return to their earlier grand estate, despite being down to only three original members.

The last souvenir from Grand Hotel, a funny little song about gonorrhea.