Essential Proto-Prog Albums of the 1960s

In the mid ’60s, The Soul Agents played a mod-friendly mix of blues, soul, and jazz for young British hipsters, sometimes backing pre-fame Rod Stewart. By the time organist Don Shinn earned top billing, they’d added classical influences and some serious instrumental flexing to their recipe. Shinn’s overdriven tone, breakneck riffing, dramatic delivery, and tendency to attack his keyboard with screwdrivers set him apart from his peers. Keith Emerson claimed Shinn as a primary inspiration; the influence is obvious on either side of this single, perhaps proto-prog’s earliest, most obscure milestone.

Vanilla Fudge were arguably America’s first prog rockers. These four New Yorkers hit the U.S. Top 10 and influenced everybody from Yes to Deep Purple by being the most tripped-out cover band yet. On their classic debut album, they completely transmogrified recent pop, rock, and soul hits into extended baroque-rock blowouts with classical-tinged organ, dramatically decreased tempos, and gallons of fuzz-blasted guitar, helping to set the stage for hard rock and early metal almost as an afterthought. Their reinvention of The Supremes’ “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” as a post-psychedelic Ravel homage is the stuff acid dreams are made of.

Chicago’s Rotary Connection set out to do something similar to Vanilla Fudge, but from an R&B POV. The project was masterminded by Marshall Chess of Chess Records fame and producer/keyboardist Charles Stepney (later Earth, Wind & Fire’s producer) and featured a cast of alternately soulful and celestial- sounding singers (including a young Minnie Riperton).

The band stretched tunes by Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, and Sam & Dave into almost unrecognizable shapes, slathering on touches of gospel, electronics, raga, psychedelia, jazz, classical, and more. Their ambition and outrageousness exceeded even that of Vanilla Fudge, and likewise inspired first-wave proggers.

In 1967, The Moody Blues were a down-on-their-luck Beat combo that lost original frontman Denny Laine and endured a string of flops since the 1964 smash, “Go Now.” They got a second chance by reinventing themselves as symphonic rock pioneers.

The group’s second LP became a countercultural touchstone, mating the band’s gently psych-leaning pop/rock with cinematic orchestral arrangements in a radical-for-the-time album-length conceptual suite. Nearly every prog rocker who ever entertained visions of grandeur can trace their outsized ambitions back to Days of Future Passed. And “Nights in White Satin” became that rarest of beasts—an art-rock epic in the U.S. Top 10.

Procol Harum blew minds worldwide with the surreal lyrics and Bach-borrowing organ of their blockbuster debut single, “A Whiter Shade of Pale.” Then, on their second album, Shine on Brightly, they upped the ante exponentially.

Propelled by Robin Trower’s liquid-fire guitar and Matthew Fisher’s drama-drenched keys, the side-long, five-part “In Held Twas in I” blends music-hall quirkiness, stoner humor, sound effects, and titanic riffs in a constantly shifting mix of moods and modes. The dizzying tour de force set a high-water mark for the prog conceptualists of the ’70s to meet.

Before Keith Emerson ruled the prog roost with Emerson, Lake & Palmer, his band The Nice was already ahead of the pack with its classical/rock collision. Like Don Shinn & The Soul Agents, they began in R&B, backing American soul singer P.P. Arnold.

Once solo, The Nice evolved through psychedelia into Shinn-inspired (drummer Brian Davison had been a Soul Agent), organ-led, progressive rock. By their second album, they’d shed both guitarist Davy O’List and their psych tendencies. Essentially, the group became a pilot version of ELP, adapting Jean Sibelius and crafting a 20-minute classically inspired suite as a title track.

When Keith Emerson was cavorting with The Nice, Carl Palmer was drumming with The Crazy World of Arthur Brown. He wasn’t aboard yet for the group’s self-titled debut, a demonic-sounding affair that put Vincent Crane’s organ and frontman Arthur Brown’s uber-theatrical antics to the fore, though. However, Palmer’s later involvement solidifies Brown’s group in the prog family tree. 

Amid Brown’s shrieks and unhinged exhortations to the forces of darkness, the band laid down some complex constructions, gleefully tromping flower power into the ground. Brown soon moved on, but “Fire” became a classic-rock staple.

Palmer’s involvement with Brown only lasted for a tour and the group’s second LP, Strangelands (originally recorded in 1969, but not released until 1988). Before going on to form ELP, though, Palmer and Crane started Atomic Rooster, whose 1970 debut just misses the proto-prog definition by a couple of months.

All roads may not lead to Rome, but in prog, plenty of roads lead back to Colosseum. Masterminded by drummer Jon Hiseman and saxman Dick Heckstall-Smith (both from John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers), Colosseum leaned jazzy, mixing in blues, rock, and the occasional classical splash.

On their second album, Valentyne Suite, future Atomic Rooster frontman Chris Farlowe took over vocal duties. But Colosseum’s instrumentation set them apart, especially evident on the title track’s winding run time. Keyboardist Dave Greenslade and bassist Tony Reeves achieved further prog glory by co-founding Greenslade, while Hiseman went on to Tempest and fusion warriors Colosseum II.

Most people know Renaissance as the Annie Haslam-fronted band that became one of prog’s better-known exponents, especially in America. They evolved from a band of the same name, whose original lineup they shared no members.

The band performing the 1969 self-titled debut was masterminded by two ex-Yardbirds: singer Keith Relf and drummer Jim McCarty. Astonishingly, the former blues-rockers unrolled a fully formed classical-rock merger, but the lineup didn’t last long and remains a footnote to the more successful second version of the band. Keyboardist John Hawken would join Strawbs at their mid-’70s prog peak, and bassist Louis Cennamo shifted to Colosseum.

An organ-led trio sans guitar, Clouds split their native Scotland for London, scoring Brian Epstein as their manager and earning the admiration of everyone from David Bowie to Pete Townshend. Their first album didn’t arrive until 1969. By then, they had established themselves as a London club staple.

During the pre-debut shows, the group honed their organ-forward approach and knack for blending multiple genres, which impressed future prog keyboard wizards like Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson. Clouds’ debut record expands that sound with orchestral arrangements and still finds room for their jazzy riffing, classy pop balladry, and quaintly cracked whimsy.