“The Lamia” is one of the most haunting and enigmatic tracks on Genesis's ambitious double concept album The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway from 1974. Positioned within the surreal narrative crafted by Peter Gabriel, the song captures a moment of eerie seduction, mythological beauty, and tragic revelation - typical of the album's dreamlike, often unsettling tone.
Musically, “The Lamia” is a showcase of Genesis at their most refined and symphonic. Tony Banks's delicate piano work opens the piece with a sense of melancholy and mystery, weaving a lattice for the tale to unfold. The song moves gracefully between passages of subdued introspection and sweeping instrumental interludes, with the full band working in elegant cohesion. Steve Hackett’s guitar, subtle but expressive, adds a spectral shimmer, while Phil Collins and Mike Rutherford provide a steady, unobtrusive rhythmic foundation.
Peter Gabriel’s vocal performance is especially compelling. He narrates Rael's encounter with the Lamia - serpentine temptresses who both enchant and consume - balancing tenderness with theatrical menace. His delivery imbues the lyrics with a tragic inevitability, particularly in the line “With their tongues, they test, taste and judge all that is mine / They move in a series of caresses / That glide up and down my spine”, where desire and danger become indistinguishable. The poetic imagery, steeped in Greek mythology and Freudian subtext, is dense but evocative, hinting at deeper psychological or spiritual transformations.
The instrumental break in the middle section is a standout moment, with Banks’s mellotron and synthesizer layers swelling into a mournful crescendo, echoing the fatal beauty of the Lamia and the loss that follows. It’s both beautiful and unsettling - a duality that runs through the entire track.
“The Lamia” is a quintessential Genesis composition from their progressive rock zenith: literate, musically sophisticated, and emotionally complex. It encapsulates the mythic surrealism and psychological depth of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, standing out as one of the album’s most exquisite and tragic moments. Whether taken as part of the greater concept or as a standalone piece, it remains a chilling and gorgeous meditation on temptation, death, and transformation.
Musically, “The Lamia” is a showcase of Genesis at their most refined and symphonic. Tony Banks's delicate piano work opens the piece with a sense of melancholy and mystery, weaving a lattice for the tale to unfold. The song moves gracefully between passages of subdued introspection and sweeping instrumental interludes, with the full band working in elegant cohesion. Steve Hackett’s guitar, subtle but expressive, adds a spectral shimmer, while Phil Collins and Mike Rutherford provide a steady, unobtrusive rhythmic foundation.
Peter Gabriel’s vocal performance is especially compelling. He narrates Rael's encounter with the Lamia - serpentine temptresses who both enchant and consume - balancing tenderness with theatrical menace. His delivery imbues the lyrics with a tragic inevitability, particularly in the line “With their tongues, they test, taste and judge all that is mine / They move in a series of caresses / That glide up and down my spine”, where desire and danger become indistinguishable. The poetic imagery, steeped in Greek mythology and Freudian subtext, is dense but evocative, hinting at deeper psychological or spiritual transformations.
The instrumental break in the middle section is a standout moment, with Banks’s mellotron and synthesizer layers swelling into a mournful crescendo, echoing the fatal beauty of the Lamia and the loss that follows. It’s both beautiful and unsettling - a duality that runs through the entire track.
“The Lamia” is a quintessential Genesis composition from their progressive rock zenith: literate, musically sophisticated, and emotionally complex. It encapsulates the mythic surrealism and psychological depth of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, standing out as one of the album’s most exquisite and tragic moments. Whether taken as part of the greater concept or as a standalone piece, it remains a chilling and gorgeous meditation on temptation, death, and transformation.