j o n b

When National Health first came into being, it was conceived as being a large ensemble, with two keyboardists and two guitarists, in addition to bass and drums. It was the two keyboardists, Alan Gowen and Dave Stewart, who tried to bring that idea to fruition. It didn't quite work out as planned, and by the time the band recorded their second album, Gowen was gone. The band itself tore apart shortly after that second album. With the band split, tragedy struck when Gowen died in 1981. As a tribute to him, National Health regrouped to produce an album of Gowen's material, and thus D.S. al Coda was born. For an album with the intent of celebrating a late colleague, the material here is wonderful. For my tastes, however, it doesn't really match up to the band's material from either Of Queues And Cures or National Health. Gowen was a jazzier sort than Stewart, and it shows in these compositions. In addition, in order to not tamper with his work, Gowen's writings were touched up only as needed "to bring the pieces to a workable point," according to Stewart. Thus, things are a bit rough in spots. As a last tribute to Alan Gowen from his friends and colleagues, I appreciate this disc. However, it doesn't connect with me musically as much as I would like. Such is music and life. review by Jon Byrne — undated —

b o b

As Jon mentioned in his review, this disc was created as a tribute to deceased bandmember Alan Gowen, and consists mostly of compositions he had written but never recorded. It's hard to say anything bad about such an album without sounding like a callous jerk, but... well, this album just doesn't do much for me. There's probably a reason the band didn't put these songs on their first album, even though they rehearsed them and played them live. The music has a bit of the feel of National Health's first two discs, but unfortunately bends that sound into the realm of light jazz and digital sounding keyboards. A couple of the tracks ("T.N.T.F.X.", "Toad of Toad Hall") almost live up to the standards of the earlier discs, but for the most part this music strikes me as fairly bland and lackluster. Hearing it immediately after those other albums on the Complete set just highlights the differences. I usually give up on disc two a couple tracks into the D.S. al Coda material (by the way, does anyone know what the "D. S." stands for? Overall this isn't a bad album, it just pales in comparison to the band's other work. review by Bob Eichler — undated —

j o e

Four years after Of Queues and Cures, National Health re-assembled to produce another studio album, though with a sole, sad purpose: to pay tribute to keyboardist Alan Gowen, who had died of leukemia the year before. Gowen co-founded the band with fellow keyboardist Dave Stewart, then left, though appeared heftily throughout their debut as a 'guest' and also composed some of the material. He later ended up replacing Stewart after the release of Of Queues and Cures, though left again when the band finally collapsed. D.S. al Coda is a fitting title, referring to "Dal Segno al Coda," a musical notation instructing the player that when they get to a certain bar marked with a certain sign (segno), then they should skip over bars and jump to the final bars making up the end of the piece (the coda). Thus, the sense of jumping prematurely to the end. I've also heard that the album title stands for: "D[ave]. S[tewart]. Al[an Gowen] Coda." This album is comprised entirely of songs that Gowen had composed and notated in the last years of his life. Two major culprits that suck some of the power out of this album are Dave Stewart's use of early 80s keyboards (which make his rhythmic playing sound unusually limp), and Pip Pyle's occasional use of electronic drums. With the songs themselves, I found nothing that fully blew me out of the water. Instead, it was the little qualities about or moments within a song, such as the sheets of intricate harmonies found on "Shining Water"; the 'advanced fusion seminar' sound of "T.N.T.F.X.," akin to Allan Holdsworth's material in the 80s; Phil Miller's peaceful, guitar re-visitation of "Arriving Twice," which had appeared on the first album of Gowan's group Gilgamesh; and the wire-shock of Stewart's synth solo mixed with rambunctious outbursts from Pyle in the opening of "I Feel a Night Coming On," which reminds us of the power from their first two albums. Though I wish I could be much more positive about it, given the point of the album as a testament to a great keyboardist and composer whose life was tragically cut short, I nonetheless have to concur that this is a decent album, but not in the same league of the first two albums of this band. review by Joe McGlinchey — 3-16-05 —