Truly wondrous, what an acid trip can do to an eclectic Scotsman's mind, isn't it? Just in case you didn't know, it sent a particularly determined vocalist who goes by the name of Fish into a quest for a flowing concept album that would revolve around lost-and-recovered childhood innocence and ideals, force the rest of his band members to write seamless continuums of emotionally demanding music, and send Marillion right into the spotlight of intelligent, yet accessible, music. Boys and girls, don't try this at home (the acid, that is)!

So what makes Misplaced Childhood so special? Good one. Most critics would probably opt for mentioning the album's two hit singles, "Kayleigh" and "Lavender," but then again, most critics have forgotten how to do something that they should always do: listen to the whole damn album. And Marillion's third certainly isn't a mindless flurry of endless notes that revolves around two hit singles; it goes beyond the pleasantly melancholic mood of the first and the clumsily jovial lilt of the latter into much broader scopes of gliding sentiment and a consummated marriage between Fish's eloquent words and his band members' musical whims. Take the happy "Lords of the Backstage," for instance. The interplay between the various instruments is flawless, and so are Fish's vocal melodies and the way the track flows with ease into the multihued epic "Blind Curve." It's perfect, and not many things are.

It's not hard to tell why most people consider this to be Marillion's all-time peak, since the album goes into genial overdrive after the jungle-like tension of "Waterhole (Expresso Bongo)" kicks into hectic activity and draws an unforgettable performance from Fish and an intense percussive attack from Ian Mosley that slither through one's blood in boiling impulses of adventurous delight. Not that things were going wrong before that, mind you, it's just that they get really, really interesting afterwards. At that point, Misplaced Childhood goes from being a string of songs into being an indivisible entity of the brightest emotional swings. From the multiple melancholies and desperate segments of "Blind Curve," to the pop sentimentality of "Childhood's End?," to the grand and joyous finale of "White Feather," it's all perfect. Once again, not many things are, but this is an exception. An absolutely perfect exception (by the way, remember to stay away from that acid!).

-by Marcelo Silveyra

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