Ringo Starr’s extreme view on music: Procol Harum’s mass suicide
To call themselves a group full of melancholy and despair might seem a dramatic understatement, but for Procol Harum, it was simply their truth. Yet, this self-description is anything but common for a band that managed to capture the public imagination. There is a certain startling magnetism to that mood, drawing observers in out of sheer shock and morbid curiosity.
The origins of the group were far from polished. Gary Brooker and Keith Reid assembled the band through a process of trial and error, a delightfully haphazard arrangement that led them eventually to record what would become their most classic work, A Whiter Shade of Pale. They simply arrived, and with that, the recording.
Their decision to release the material was a bold move—a leap that many would avoid. It was a risk that demanded nerve, but it also granted them the privacy to make mistakes early on and deliver their best artistic self when the moment was right. For Procol Harum, the moment was now.
When A Whiter Shade of Pale hit the charts, it didn’t just climb; it stormed the nation, spending six weeks at number one in the UK. This achievement was truly inexplicable for a band that was still finding its footing, having played only four shows when the song first reached the stands. It was a bizarre feat, yet it was how they rolled.
The music itself carried a profound weight. While Reid described the group as full of sadness, Brooker offered a starker vision, suggesting their sound bordered on self-destruction. They famously described some of their music as being like mass suicide, a powerful metaphor that suggested a desire to halt existence, not just provoke it. This stark view of life in the swinging sixties seemed to offer a unique perspective on the era’s mental landscape.
Despite the bleakness of their lyrics, the undeniable quality of their music turned heads. The acclaim they generated was magnetic, powerful, and managed to silence even the giants of the music world. Their success forced a major reassessment of what the decade had produced.
The weight of this acclaim was immense. Legendary figures, including John Lennon and Ringo Starr, offered powerful endorsements. Lennon declared the track “the best record I’ve heard in a while,” while Starr crowned it the “ultimate ‘60s record.”
For the biggest band in the world to be utterly blown away by a group of Essex musicians was a mighty proclamation. But the reality was that Procol Harum, through their unforgettable sound, did more than pale into insignificance. They proved that even the darkest artistic expressions can achieve the highest acclaim.