After the album-tour-album cycle of Script for a Jester's Tear, Fugazi, and the subsequent Euro-only release of Real to Reel, Marillion retreated to Berlin's Hansa Ton Studios with Rolling Stones producer Chris Kimsey to work on their next opus. Armed with a handful of lyrics born out of a self-confessed acid trip, Fish came up with the elaborate concept for 1985's Misplaced Childhood. Touching upon his early childhood experiences and his inability to deal with a slew of bad breakups exacerbated by a never-ending series of rock star-type "indulgences," Misplaced Childhood would prove to be not only the band's most accomplished release to date, but also its most streamlined. Initial record company skepticism over the band's decision to forge ahead with a '70s-style prog rock opus split into two halves (sides one and two) quickly evaporated as Marillion delivered its two most commercial singles ever: "Kayleigh" and "Lavender." With its lush production and punchy mix, the album went on to become the band's greatest commercial triumph, especially in Europe where they would rise from theater attraction to bona fide stadium royalty.

If it never serves any other purpose, this two-disc collection of National Health's complete official output will at least always work as an effective refutation of the belief that all 1970s British prog-rock was overblown, self-indulgent, Mahlerian twaddle. Of course, most British prog-rock was just that, so it would be easy to understand anyone's reluctance to spend much time with it. Also, National Health has to be the least inviting band name in the history of British rock. But if you make the effort, you'll be richly rewarded. Yes, the compositions are long and they have titles like "Borogoves" and "Tales of a Damson Knight." Yes, there are lots and lots of solos. But there's also lots of structure and self-discipline undergirding those compositions and guiding those solos, and the band never seems to lose sight of the fact that they're playing for people other than themselves. That means there are melodies (sometimes even jazzy ones) and rhythmic hooks (sometimes even funky ones…okay, very slightly funky) as well as interesting textures and impressive fretwork. Highly recommended. (This isn't actually a "complete" collection of National Health's recorded output – see Missing Pieces, also on East Side Digital, for a good compilation of outtakes.)

Decameron produced four albums between 1973 and 1976 (Some discographies listed a recording called "Beyond the Light" but this never saw release). This long CD contains all of the third disk and a most of the worthiest pieces on the fourth. Considering their short recording career, Decameron exhibited a fairly wide range of musical styles and talent as they flitted from label to label. But it was all loosely in the British folk rock realm with more than a casual nod to the lighter elements of progressive rock in vogue at the time. The enigmatic style of that genre is displayed in the stunning "All the Best Wishes", the reverent "The Ungodly", the intensely melodic "Journey's End" bathed in mellotron, and "The Deal". The lighter pieces are equally engaging, such as "Saturday" about rolling down the windows and blasting the stereo and shouting obscenities at the market crowd, "Road to the Sea" with its rollicking rhythms and musical and lyrical allusions to the nautical, "Fallen Over", and "Tomorrow's pantomime".

Bish Bosch is, according to Scott Walker, the final recording in the trilogy that began with 1995’s Tilt and continued in 2006’s The Drift. Its title combines urban slang for the word "bitch" and the last name of Dutch painter Hieronymus Bosch. Like its predecessors, Bish Bosch is not an easy listen initially. It's utterly strange, yet alluring. Musically, Walker is as rangy and cagey as ever. His players have worked with him since Tilt; they know exactly what he wants and how to get it. A string orchestra arranged and conducted by keyboardist Mark Warman, and a full symphony on three cuts are also employed. The lyrics on Bish Bosch are full of obscure historical, philosophical, medical, geographical and cultural allusions. For instance, subatomic science, a dwarf jester in Attila the Hun’s court, St. Simeon, and an early 20th century fad all appear in "SDSS14+3B (Zircon, A Flagpole Sitter)." Elsewhere, Nicolai Ceausescu, Nikita Khrushchev, the Ku Klux Klan, and God himself show up. While Bish Bosch is another exercise in artful pretension, it is the most accessible entry in this trilogy and well worth the effort to get at it. Themes of decay are woven throughout these songs – of empire, of the body, of language and religion – yet they are often complemented and illustrated by wry, pun-like, and even scatological humor.

For their first album, Caravan was surprisingly strong. While steeped in the same British psychedelia that informed bands such as Love Children, Pink Floyd, and Tomorrow, Caravan relates a freedom of spirit and mischief along the lines of Giles, Giles & Fripp or Gong. The band's roots can be traced to a British blue-eyed soul combo called the Wilde Flowers. Among the luminaries to have passed through this Caravan precursor were Robert Wyatt, Kevin Ayers, and Hugh Hopper and Brian Hopper (pre-Soft Machine, naturally). By the spring of 1968, Caravan had settled nicely into a quartet consisting of Pye Hastings (guitar/bass/vocals), Richard Coughlan (drums), David Sinclair (organ/vocals), and Richard Sinclair (bass/guitar/vocals). Inspired by the notoriety and acclaim that Soft Machine encountered during the burgeoning days of London's underground scene, Caravan began a residency at the Middle Earth club. Additionally, the band was shopping a homemade demo tape around to local record companies.