‘Dark, brutal, beautiful and mad’: Van der Graaf Generator, the darkest and most influential group in progressive rock

A Van de Graaff generator is a device capable of producing high voltages. The charge — generated by contact — is transferred via a conveyor belt to a hollow metal sphere, which acts as a terminal. The generator is a star attraction in science classrooms and museums, due to the educational value it has when someone attempts to explain electrostatic phenomena. A volunteer is often asked to touch it… and they end up with their hair a mess.

Whether by chance or not, in 1967, news of the death of its creator, the American physicist Robert J. Van de Graaff, offered inspiration to a couple of university students from Manchester, in the United Kingdom. Peter Hammill and Chris Judge Smith decided to name their musical project after him (with a couple of letters changed, just in case someone objected). Thus began the journey of Van der Graaf Generator, a band that defies easy categorization. For decades, the bandmates have compiled songs that are capable of sending shivers down your spine through sound waves.

“I was lucky enough to interview Nic Potter, Van der Graaf’s great bassist, who passed away [in 2013]. And I asked him why he left after the third album,” Argentine journalist Marcelo Gobello tells EL PAÍS. “He replied, ‘Because the music we were playing scared me. It was so intense… and I was young and it frightened me. But don’t include [this in your article].’”

“You can include it now,” Gobello shrugs, “because the poor guy won’t know about it now. Apparently, strange things were happening [to them]: there was a concert in Ibiza, if I’m not mistaken, where they say a UFO appeared!”

Gobello recently published Necromancers, Lighthouse Keepers and Forsaken Gardens: An Introduction to Peter Hammill and Van der Graaf Generator (2025), a book that he describes as his “life’s work.” For decades, he followed Hammill and the band’s career, while also conducting numerous interviews with the lead singer, after forging and maintaining a friendship with the musician since the 1990s. Hammill even wrote the foreword to the book, which is the third version of a work that Gobello has expanded on and updated as the discographies of the artist and the band have grown.

The title references three songs: Necromancer, from the 1969 debut album; A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers (1971), one of Hammill’s great masterpieces, a 23-minute-long work; and Forsaken Gardens (1974), from Hammill’s solo album. Gobello’s encyclopedic volume explores each of the works put out by the prolific British singer, who has amassed 54 studio albums in his career, 13 of them with Van der Graaf Generator.

“I once read a very interesting comparison: if progressive rock were a cathedral, Pink Floyd would be in the towers, Genesis in the gardens, King Crimson in the chambers and Van der Graaf Generator in the catacombs,” Gobello chuckles. “They were always dark, brutal, with some beautiful moments and, suddenly, [some filled with] madness. They were like a Hammer horror film, with a distorted organ, a punk attitude and a somewhat jazzy structure. A distinct and unpredictable group.”

Peter Hammill, 77, was born in London. The journalist refers to him as “the Vampire of Bath,” referencing the English city where he lives, while alluding to his sometimes sinister presence and esthetic choices, such as the cape he wore on the cover of In Camera (1974). Hammill disagrees with the “progressive rock” label, instead preferring the term “underground.”

The musician became the frontman for Van der Graaf after the departure of Chris Judge Smith (who intended to be both drummer and singer, although the arrival of percussionist Guy Evans and Hammill’s superior vocals left him with little work). He’s a secret idol for generations of more mainstream artists, something he has — at least, in recent years — embraced with the philosophy of someone who prioritizes creative pleasure over get-rich-quick schemes.

“Being [part of] Van der Graaf Generator isn’t a good career decision,” he joked at the presentation of the band’s latest album, Do Not Disturb (2016). He had been asked if there was a commercial motivation behind the musicians’ 2005 reunion after almost 30 years apart.

“It’s true that we’re difficult; you need to listen to our albums several times,” he admitted. “But I still think we deserve a much larger audience than what we have. Even though we’re over 70, we’re a modern band that plays modern music.”

In some circles, the advent of punk rock in the late 1970s was generally understood as a rebellion against progressive or symphonic rock, as well as a challenge to virtuosity. And Van der Graaf Generator rode that wave.

Johnny Rotten, the vocalist of the Sex Pistols — who famously wore a T-shirt at a concert with the slogan “I Hate Pink Floyd” — proclaimed his admiration for the band around the same time. The solo album Nadir’s Big Chance (1975) — where Hammill adopts the alter ego of Rikki Nadir, a teenager who, armed with his guitar, sets out to crush the system with noise and fury — is, in fact, considered to be a precursor to the punk genre. It’s sung in a screaming style… not unlike how Rotten himself would sound with the Sex Pistols two years later. Other avowed fans of Van der Graaf Generator include David Bowie, Bruce Dickinson (Iron Maiden), Ian Curtis (Joy Division), Jello Biafra (Dead Kennedys) and Mark E. Smith (The Fall).

“They were never seen as dinosaurs, because their music is timeless,” Gobello affirms. “They’ve influenced post-punk, gothic rock… even heavy metal. Except for [organist] Hugh Banton — who had musical training — they’re a band with the DIY spirit of punk, with total freedom and audacity. They don’t think about pleasing people; sometimes, they alienate their own fans. They could reach dramatic heights, be operatic or Wagnerian; Hammill has a voice that can sing you a ballad, or inspire fear.”

“I once asked him how he would describe the spirit of Van der Graaf Generator,” Gobello recalls. “And he said, ‘serious fun.’ Delving into their music is incredibly rewarding… but you have to work at it, like everything worthwhile in life.”

A louse is not a home

After a troubled debut album, The Aerosol Grey Machine (1969) — a Peter Hammill album that ended up being credited to the band after all the members collaborated — Van der Graaf Generator made a splash with The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other (1970). The album achieved some minor success (it was their best-selling album in the UK until the live album Vital, released in 1978) and attracted critical attention through its bewildering nature. The collection was caught between David Jackson’s John Coltrane-esque saxophone and the singer’s dark lyrics about apocalypse, science fiction and witchcraft. One song — White Hammer — was based on the medieval treatise Malleus Maleficarum (1486), often translated as Hammer of Witches.

The bandmates upped the ante on their next and even stranger release: H To He, Who Am The Only One (1971). The title refers to the nuclear fusion of hydrogen (H) to form helium (He), the process that takes place in the core of stars.

In a documentary, music journalist Gerry Ewing observed: “Not only can Van der Graaf Generator’s music be difficult… their albums also have difficult titles!”

Such material lends itself to study. This is why — despite the fact that Van der Graaf is relatively unknown, even among progressive rock fans — the band seems to inspire such a vast body of literature.

This December has seen the UK publication of ROCK and ROLE: The Visionary Songs of Peter Hammill and Van der Graaf Generator (2025). The book’s author, Joe Banks, explains to EL PAÍS that he wrote it, in part, because the band “should be more widely recognized,” while noting that “Hammill is one of the best lyricists rock has ever produced.”

“He certainly began by drawing inspiration from the occult, mythical and science fiction themes from the psychedelic period… but then he ventured into more transcendent and philosophical areas, with questions such as the nature of free will, alienation and individuality, or religion versus science. He has also written several profound love songs. This is what makes him and Van der Graaf Generator so appealing to fans of more intellectual music,” Banks points out. “He’s never been afraid of his own curiosity and intelligence.”

According to Banks, one possible reason as to why the band’s commercial success was far less than that of, say, Genesis or King Crimson, lies in their complete disregard for compromise. For example, Killer (1970) — a sort of epic song about a shark — was the closest they ever came to a hit… and they subsequently dropped it from their setlists when they saw that people kept requesting it.

“They’re less accessible because they’re very idiosyncratic and often deliberately chaotic. There’s a genuine element of danger in their music. But I think part of their appeal is that they’re not for everyone.”

However, Van der Graaf Generator did achieve extraordinary recognition in Italy, where they unexpectedly reached number one on the charts with their fourth album, Pawn Hearts (1971). This is despite it being one of the most demanding in their discography. The critic for the British magazine Record Mirror wrote: “I must confess my complete ignorance of exactly what Van der Graaf Generator is trying to achieve.” The Mediterranean country boasted a thriving progressive rock scene, with bands like Premiata Forneria Marconi, Le Orme, Area and, of course, Goblin, the band that provided the soundtracks for Dario Argento’s horror films. The members of Van der Graaf experienced intense and stressful tours there, surrounded by police due to the large crowds of fans in the streets. On their latest album, they dedicated a song to their Italian adventures: Alfa Berlina (2016).

After their initial breakup, Van der Graaf Generator released four more studio albums between 1975 and 1977. And, in 2005, shortly after Hammill suffered a heart attack, the four original members reunited and recorded an album. Just a year later, they settled into a trio, following the departure of saxophonist David Jackson. The reason for his departure remains a mystery, with the frontman cryptically announcing in a letter that Jackson “seemed to have difficulty in understanding” the band’s new direction.

Van der Graaf Generator has since completed four more albums without him and remains active, though they haven’t performed live since 2022. Hammill has confirmed he’s working on a solo album… but this doesn’t mean that Van der Graaf has broken up. His relentless output has always meant balancing the band with individual projects.

Despite the pace of albums and tours, Hammill has also found time for personal dramas. In the mid-1970s, his girlfriend left him for a friend. He subsequently dedicated an entire album to what happened, titled Over (1977), which has earned its place among the greatest breakup albums in history.

It’s no coincidence that his theatrical stage presence — the kind that unsettling songs such as Still Life, Darkness (11/11), The Sleepwalkers and A Louse Is Not A Home demand — perfectly encapsulates the worldview of one of those geniuses who don’t see life and art as separate entities.

In 2004, Gobello had the honor of giving an introductory talk at Hammill’s first concert after his heart attack. It was held in Sos del Rey Católico, a town in the province of Zaragoza, Spain. Gobello recalls the experience with a sense of tension: “Hammill is so extreme that he didn’t know if he was going to make it out alive. He was coming back for real and wanted to sing with his characteristic intensity.”

Fortunately, no tragedy took place. “It was very emotional. But he didn’t know any other way to do it. It was trial and error… only that, [in this case], a mistake could have been quite horrible.” Dangerous music doesn’t negotiate.

Sign up for our weekly newsletter to get more English-language news coverage from EL PAÍS USA Edition