It shouldn’t have worked. Really. Taking a 1942 classical masterpiece written by Aaron Copland to honor the Allied war effort and turning it into a nine-minute prog-rock odyssey featuring a Yamaha GX-1 synthesizer that cost as much as a house? That’s basically a recipe for a pretentious disaster. But when Emerson, Lake & Palmer (ELP) released their version of Fanfare for the Common Man by Emerson Lake and Palmer in 1977, they didn't just cover a song. They hijacked it. They turned a somber, regal brass piece into a strutting, bluesy, electronic beast that somehow managed to reach number two on the UK charts during the height of punk rock. Talk about bad timing that turned out to be perfect.
Most people recognize the hook. It’s that massive, soaring trumpet melody—reimagined by Keith Emerson’s keys—that feels like a sunrise over a stadium. But there is a lot of weirdness behind this track. It wasn't recorded in a fancy London studio with mood lighting. It was tracked in a freezing cold basement in Montreux, Switzerland.
The Cold Reality of the Montreux Sessions
Imagine three incredibly wealthy rock stars shivering in a rehearsal space called Mountain Studios. It’s January 1977. ELP was preparing for the Works Volume 1 album, a project that was already straining the band's internal dynamics because they were all recording solo sides. But they needed a "band" side.
Keith Emerson had been obsessed with Aaron Copland for years. He’d already tackled "Hoedown" on the Trilogy album. For the Works sessions, he wanted something bigger. He started messing around with the Fanfare melody on his new toy: the Yamaha GX-1. This wasn't a normal keyboard. It was a polyphonic "dream machine" synthesizer that looked like a futuristic pipe organ and weighed nearly a thousand pounds.
The recording was basically a live jam. Greg Lake started playing a heavy, bluesy bass riff—a total departure from the classical original—and Carl Palmer locked in with a shuffle that had more in common with big-band jazz than orchestral percussion. They did it in two takes. What you hear on the record is the sound of three guys trying to stay warm by playing as loud as humanly possible.
The sheer audacity of the sound is what sticks. It isn't "pretty." It’s gritty. Emerson’s lead synth tone on Fanfare for the Common Man by Emerson Lake and Palmer has this distorted, almost vocal quality to it. He wasn't trying to sound like a trumpet. He was trying to sound like a god.
Why Aaron Copland Actually Liked It
Usually, when a rock band guts a classical piece, the original composer hates it. Igor Stravinsky famously loathed what Disney did to The Rite of Spring in Fantasia. So, you’d assume Aaron Copland—the dean of American music—would have been horrified by three British long-hairs adding a shuffle beat and a distorted synth solo to his patriotic tribute.
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Nope.
Emerson was actually nervous about it. He’d sent the recording to Copland’s publishers, half-expecting a cease-and-desist letter. Instead, Copland gave it the green light. Later, in interviews, Copland admitted that while it wasn't exactly what he had in mind back in 1942, he found the rhythmic energy fascinating. He reportedly said, "Something happens to it that is not meant to happen, but it’s done with such gusto."
That "gusto" is exactly why the track survived. It wasn’t a parody. It was a translation. ELP took the "Common Man" theme and applied it to the 1970s stadium-rock era. The original was about the struggle against fascism; the ELP version was about the sheer, overwhelming power of modern technology and human ego.
The Gear: The Monster Known as the GX-1
You can't talk about this song without talking about the Yamaha GX-1. If you look at the music video—filmed in an empty, snow-covered Olympic Stadium in Montreal—you see Emerson sitting behind this massive white console.
This machine was the predecessor to the legendary CS-80. Only a handful were ever made. Stevie Wonder had one (he called it the "Dream Machine"), and John Paul Jones from Led Zeppelin used one on In Through the Out Door. But Emerson used it like a lead guitar.
- The Lead Sound: That "quack" and growl you hear during the solo sections? That’s the GX-1’s ribbon controller. Emerson wasn't just hitting keys; he was sliding his finger along a strip to change the pitch, mimicking a violin or a human scream.
- The Bass: Greg Lake’s bass on this track is notoriously thick. He used an eight-string Alembic bass for parts of the Works sessions, which gave the track a massive low-end foundation that prevented Emerson’s high-pitched synths from sounding thin.
- The Percussion: Carl Palmer didn't use a standard rock kit. He used a custom stainless steel kit. The "clank" you hear is real metal.
The solo in the middle of the song—the part that drifts away from the main theme—is often where casual listeners check out. Don't. It’s a masterclass in modal improvisation. Emerson isn't just wanking; he’s exploring the harmonic possibilities of the blues scale against a rigid classical structure. It’s chaotic. It’s messy. It’s perfect.
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The Montreal Stadium Video: A PR Nightmare
The music video for Fanfare for the Common Man by Emerson Lake and Palmer is legendary for all the wrong reasons. The band rented out the Olympic Stadium in Montreal. It was empty. It was freezing. You can see the steam coming off their breath.
They were wearing massive fur coats. In the middle of the 1970s, this was the height of rock star excess. While kids in London were cutting their hair and wearing safety pins to protest the economy, ELP was paying to heat (or try to heat) a 60,000-seat stadium just to film a promotional clip.
It’s often cited as the moment "Prog Rock" lost the plot. But honestly? Looking back, it’s a vibe. There’s something haunting about the wide shots of the empty stadium while that massive melody echoes off the concrete. It captured the isolation of being at the top of the rock world just as the floor was about to fall out.
Why the "Common Man" Title is Ironic
The irony of the title isn't lost on anyone. A band that toured with 30 tons of equipment, an umbilical cord of power cables, and a rotating drum kit was playing a song for the "Common Man."
But the song resonated. It hit #2 on the UK Singles Chart in June 1977. Who kept it off the #1 spot? The Sex Pistols with "God Save the Queen" (though technically, the official charts put "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer or "Lucille" by Kenny Rogers there depending on the week, the Pistols were the cultural wall).
ELP was the "Old Guard." Yet, even the punks had to admit the riff was heavy. It was one of the few prog tracks that worked in a disco or a sports arena. Today, you still hear it at hockey games and political rallies. It has an indestructible quality.
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The Legacy of the Edit vs. The Full Version
If you’ve only heard the radio version, you’ve only heard about three minutes of the song. You’re missing the weirdness. The full nine-minute version on Works Volume 1 is where the real meat is.
The edit focuses on the "Fanfare" theme. The full version is an experimental journey. After the initial theme, the band drops into this hypnotic, repetitive groove. Emerson starts building layers of synth textures that sound like buzzing bees, then screaming sirens, then church organs.
It’s a proto-electronic dance music track in some ways. The steady 4/4 beat doesn't change. It just pulses. It anticipates the way modern electronic producers build tension before a "drop." When the main theme finally returns at the end, the release is massive.
How to Truly Appreciate the Track Today
To get the most out of Fanfare for the Common Man by Emerson Lake and Palmer, you have to stop thinking of it as a classical cover. Think of it as an early experiment in "Power Trio" dynamics.
- Listen to the Drum Fills: Carl Palmer plays "around" the beat. During the main theme, he’s hitting accents that shouldn't work but do.
- Focus on the Bass Tone: Greg Lake’s bass is distorted and overdriven. It sounds more like a fuzz-guitar than a traditional bass.
- Watch the 1977 Live Footage: If you can find the footage from the Works tour where they had a full orchestra, watch it. It’s ridiculous. The orchestra sits there for most of the song while the three guys play their hearts out, only for the horns to kick in at the very end.
The song represents the end of an era. Shortly after this, ELP would fracture. The "Big Prog" era was ending. But they went out with a literal bang.
Actionable Takeaways for the Music Fan
If you want to dive deeper into this sound, don't just stop at the greatest hits. Here is how to actually explore the world ELP built with this track:
- Compare the Versions: Listen to the original Aaron Copland version (the London Symphony Orchestra recording is a good start) and then immediately play the ELP version. Notice how ELP changed the time signature feel from a stately march to a rock shuffle.
- Check out the "B-Side" Mentality: Look into the Works Volume 1 album. It’s split into four sides: one for Keith, one for Greg, one for Carl, and one for the band. "Fanfare" is the centerpiece of the band side. It shows how they functioned when they actually collaborated.
- Explore the Yamaha GX-1 Legacy: Search for other tracks using the GX-1. It’s a very specific, "expensive" sound that defined a very short window in music history.
- Audit the Solo: Most people skip the synth solo. Don't. Listen to it as a piece of "noise art." Emerson was pushing the limits of what a synthesizer could do before digital presets made everything easy.
There will never be another band like ELP, and there will certainly never be another hit quite like this. It’s a weird, loud, brilliant relic of a time when rock music had no limits and no shame. Whether you think it’s a masterpiece or an overblown mess, you can’t deny one thing: when that main riff kicks in, you're going to turn the volume up.