Released in March 1981 by EMI, this stands as a curious, contested epilogue to a band that once defined the Canterbury scene's avant-garde experimentalism. Conceived largely as a solo project by keyboardist and composer Karl Jenkins rather than a collective group effort, the album marks a radical departure from the wild, dissonant improvisations of their late-60s and early-70s peak. Instead, it leans into the polished, smooth-jazz and radio-friendly fusion tastes of the early 1980s but still out there and painting with Allan Holdsworth’s legato
Despite its scaled-back identity, the record boasts an elite supporting cast. Alongside Jenkins on keys and the Synclavier, long-time drummer John Marshall anchors the rhythm section with his characteristic precision, joined by Jack Bruce, keyboardist John Taylor, and a formidable horn section featuring Ray Warleigh and Dick Morrissey.
Tracks like the opener "Over 'n' Above" and "Hot-Biscuit Slim" showcase Jenkins’ knack for sleek, frictionless arrangements, augmented by neo-classical string sweeps and wordless backing vocals from singers like John Perry and Tony Rivers. Holdsworth’s guitar cuts through the gloss with brief, high-caliber flashes of fusion brilliance, while Marshall and Bruce inject a muscular, funky undercurrent that rescues the material from sliding completely into ambient lifestyle music.
For purists expecting the unhinged, counter-cultural edge of Third or Fourth, Land of Cockayne can feel like an overly slick, swan song. But its a glossy, well-crafted artifact of jazz-rock. A bit out of time in 1981 and nothing could have been less commercial but time has been kinder to it. Proof perhaps that class is permanent
