GRYPHON
Hear the crumhorns calling? ’Tis Gryphon, returned Cult Heroes from the land of medieval prog, reformed and ready to go. “We’re dying to get out there,” they say.
I F YOU THINK what modern music needs is more crumhorns and a vocalist who solos on bassoon, these are joyous times. Gryphon, exotic medieval-folk outliers in the great prog boom of the early 1970s, are back and chomping at the bit. “We’re dying to get out there and play,” says founder member Brian Gulland. “We haven’t played north of Birmingham since 1976.”
The band has just released Get Out Of My
Father’s Car! (named for a group in-joke dating back to 1972), which followed 2018’s well-received comeback Reinvention. The Gryphon that has risen from the ashes retains the group’s virtuosity on antique recorders, whistles, flutes, and, of course, crumhorns, while veering towards more modern folk influences. Of their four-decade recording gap, Gulland wryly observes, “a little reflection is always a good thing.”
The group began when two talented early music enthusiasts met at London’s Royal College of Music. Gulland and Richard Harvey wanted to celebrate and update the music of Olde England. Adding guitarist Graeme Taylor and Dave Oberlé on drums, the multi-instrumentalists recorded their self-titled debut in 1973, which caused enough stir to get them on Radios 1, 2, 3 and 4 in the same week. “If Henry VIII was in a band it would be Gryphon,” said their publicist.
Other influences soon emerged. “I saw Yes at the Roundhouse Dagenham just after [1971’s] The Yes Album,” says Gulland. “I was completely floored like I never had been with any rock outfit.” The growing influence of Jon Anderson and friends can be heard on the next two albums, much revered by prog fans today. On 1974’s Midnight
Mushrumps and Red Queen To Gryphon Three, electric keyboards and guitars increasingly overshadow the medievalry. The band toured internationally with Steeleye Span, The Mahavishnu Orchestra and, most of all, their good friends Yes (“I used to come out and play bassoon on their encore, Roundabout,” says Gulland, “not sure anyone could hear me…”)
But Gryphon were under pressure from their label Transatlantic to sound more commercial. Their response, ’75’s
Raindance, lacked clear direction, though it contains Harvey’s mighty Yes-meets Mike Oldfield epic (Ein Klein) Heldenleben. Their last effort, the un-Gryphonlike Treason, hit the brick wall of punk in 1977.
After the split, Harvey made a name as a first-call TV and film soundtrack composer. As talk of a reunion began to simmer, he was too occupied with The Da Vinci Code to commit fully. Gulland, meanwhile, worked with Hans Zimmer, played saxes for the Nolans and worked on the mid-’80s Hello Tosh Got A Toshiba advert with Ian Dury. Now he’s is delighted to be back with the new six-piece Gryphon. “We were never that big a band – a well-kept secret,” he says. “But people seem to remember us.”
Get Out of My Father’s Car! is released by Talking Elephant
“If Henry VIII was in a band it would be Gryphon.”