Dave's Side One

Today is Part 3 of our series on progressive rock in the 1970s, and we're talking about Emerson, Lake & Palmer — the most extravagant, showy, and unapologetically ambitious trio in the entire prog world

Yes took prog to symphonic heights. Jon Anderson’s ethereal high vocals, Steve Howe’s endlessly inventive guitar (acoustic and electric), Rick Wakeman’s virtuoso keyboard runs, Chris Squire’s thunderous bass, and the drumming of Bill Bruford (later Alan White) created music that felt like classical compositions played with rock power

Genesis formed in 1967 at a boarding school in England, and by the early 70s they had become masters of concept albums and live performance art

What was the greatest guitar solo of the 1970s? This is the kind of question that can start a three-hour conversation in any record store, and I've spent plenty of Sundays pondering it myself

Kansas was never a guitar-hero band in the flashy 70s sense. They were a collective—six musicians making ambitious, classically influenced progressive rock with American heart. But without Kerry Livgren and Rich Williams, that sound wouldn't have existed

Davey wasn't just a sideman—he was a co-arranger and co-writer. His parts were always melodic, tasteful, and perfectly supportive—never stealing the spotlight from Elton or the songs

Alex Lifeson of Rush—one of the most versatile, inventive, and criminally underrated guitarists of the 1970s and beyond

Buck is one of the most melodic, tasteful, and technically gifted players of the 70s who somehow never got the massive solo-star treatment he deserved

Tommy Bolin was one of the most versatile players of the 70s

Ronnie never got huge like Eddie Van Halen or Jimmy Page. He was about tone, feel, and serving the song

"Dream Weaver" was the ultimate Sunday unwind. After a week of school, basement hangs with loud Styx or Kiss records, I'd put this on, close my eyes, and let it wash over me

Kiss in the 70s was mostly style with substance. The image was the substance—they created an experience, a larger-than-life rock fantasy that made kids feel like they were part of a secret club

Kiss in 1976 was peak spectacle—style, theatrics, and just enough rock to back it up. That night proved the Terrace could handle a big show without losing its gritty, up-close feel

It wasn't the giant Salt Palace Arena, but it was intimate—close enough to see the sweat on the performers, loud enough to feel the bass in your chest, and small enough that every show felt personal

These albums show Elton and Bernie Taupin at the absolute peak of their partnership—storytelling, melody, emotion, and ambition all coming together in ways that still feel fresh nearly 50 years later

These duets showed Elton's generosity—he elevated others while shining himself

Elton exploded in the early 70s with a sound that blended glam, rock, soul, and pure energy, and some of his biggest tracks were straight-up rockers

On the surface, it's a simple denial of love: a guy insisting "I'm not in love" while everything about the song screams the opposite

The overrated part: They're often called the greatest rock band ever, but The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, and Pink Floyd had more innovation or consistency

Fleetwood Mac—were they better before Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joined in 1974? This is one of those debates that never gets old in record stores or online forums.

Walsh wasn't just a replacement guitarist; he was a personality shift. Where Meisner brought high harmonies and country bass, Walsh brought danger and levity

Randy Meisner's contributions—those high harmonies, that emotional lead vocal—defined the classic Eagles sound

Without Linda Ronstadt's stage, audience, and influence, The Eagles might not have gelled as quickly. She was the catalyst—the big voice that showed them how to blend country, folk, and rock into something timeless

Let's look at the top-selling rock bands of the 1970s and how their influence still echoes today

Being a teenager in the 1970s wasn’t always easy. School pressures, figuring out who you were, first heartbreaks, feeling like you didn’t quite fit in. When things got heavy, I’d close my bedroom door, turn off the lights, and put on a record.