A Majestic and Raw Instrumental, a Testament to the Unbridled Power of a Guitar King at the Height of His Reign.
In the early 1970s, as the musical landscape fractured into a thousand different genres, a force of nature known as Mountain emerged, defined by its crushing heavy rock riffs and the singular, majestic guitar work of Leslie West. They were a band that didn’t just play music; they commanded it, a power trio with an almost mythic presence. Their 1971 album, Flowers of Evil, was a unique document, a blend of new studio tracks and a blistering live side that captured the band at the peak of their concert prowess. It was on this live side that a masterpiece was unveiled, a song that was less a song and more a moment of pure, spontaneous genius. That song was “King’s Chorale.” As an extended instrumental piece on a half-live album, it was never a single and never found its way onto the charts, but the album itself was a success, climbing to a respectable number 31 on the Billboard 200. The true power of “King’s Chorale” lay not in commercial triumph, but in the raw, unvarnished drama of a live performance.
The story of “King’s Chorale” is a narrative of pure, unadulterated musical expression. The setting is a concert hall, the air thick with anticipation. The band, a formidable trio, is locked in a powerful rhythm, a heavy, hypnotic groove that serves as the foundation for the drama to unfold. The stage is set for Leslie West, the king of this sonic domain, to take center stage. The “chorale” in the title is no ordinary hymn; it is a sermon delivered not with words, but with a six-string axe. The drama is palpable in the silent communication between the band members, the focused intensity of the crowd, and the story that West tells with every note. It’s a moment of improvisation, a raw and honest monologue that captures the very essence of what makes live music so thrilling and unforgettable.
The meaning of “King’s Chorale” is found entirely in its sound. It begins with a simple, almost regal melody that establishes a sense of mournful majesty. But this is just the beginning of the journey. As the song progresses, West’s guitar weeps, soars, and then roars with a profound emotional weight. He bends notes, wrings out every ounce of feeling from the instrument, and creates a sound so full and rich it feels like a choir singing in unison. The song is a testament to the power of music to convey emotion beyond words—it is sorrow, anger, defiance, and triumph all wrapped into a single, cohesive piece. For those who were in that audience, it was a moment of witnessing a master at work, a man whose fingers seemed to be in direct conversation with the soul of the instrument.
For those of us who came of age with this music, “King’s Chorale” is a time capsule, a powerful reminder of an era when rock music was a raw, visceral experience. It evokes memories of dropping the needle on that half-live album and being transported to a concert hall, feeling the energy and the power of a band in its prime. It is a song that speaks to the heart of the true music lover, the one who understands that the most powerful moments are not the polished, radio-friendly hits, but the raw, spontaneous expressions of artistic genius. It stands as a timeless monument to Leslie West’s enduring legacy, a powerful and deeply emotional reminder that the king’s chorale is still singing.