A Salty Dog

Hey there, Zoo Freaks, the Zoo Crew is spinning a real deep cut right now on THE ZOO, and it is that haunting number A Salty Dog by Styx off their Big Bang Theory album. This one comes from their 2005 covers record, where the boys decided to dig into some classic rock gems instead of just rehashing their own hits, and Lawrence Gowan takes the lead vocals on this Procol Harum original. It is a song that feels like it belongs on a long ride down a coastal highway with the wind in your hair and the stereo cranked, full of that progressive rock atmosphere that the Zoo Crew loves to dig into for you all.

The original version came from Procol Harum way back in 1969 on their third album of the same name, written by Gary Brooker on the music and Keith Reid on the words. Reid once explained that the lyrics just showed up and fit so naturally with the musical idea Brooker had been working on, a chord progression with a certain rhythm that locked right in. Brooker has said in interviews that A Salty Dog stands as one of the stronger songs in their catalog, something you can put on for someone who has never heard it and they will still feel that pull. The piano intro riff actually came from a train whistle Brooker heard while over in Switzerland, and when he first played the piece for drummer B.J. Wilson, with a sunbeam hitting the guy's face in the room, Wilson told him it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. That kind of moment sticks with a band.

The whole album carried a nautical theme, and the cover art was a pastiche of the old Player's Navy Cut cigarette pack, complete with the sailor and the ocean vibes. This title track was the first time Procol Harum brought in a full orchestra, adding those sweeping strings that give it that epic feel without stretching out forever. The lyrics paint a picture of sailors heading for parts unknown, where ships come home to die, firing the gun and burning the mast before rowing to shore with tears of joy. A salty dog, of course, is old sailor slang for a seasoned seaman, and Reid's words leave room for all kinds of readings, which is part of what made Procol Harum so interesting back then. John Peel even noted on the radio that the single version should have done better on the charts, but it ran longer than the usual two and a half minutes and did not bounce along at a bright tempo, so some stations stayed away. Still, it became one of those progressive rock staples that holds up.

When Styx took it on for Big Bang Theory, the guys brought their own take to it. Tommy Shaw has called it a favorite of his from the Procol Harum record, a haunting tune with that flatted fifth and the orchestral quality that sits right up their alley. He figured it would have made a great Styx song right from the start. Lawrence Gowan, who sings it, has talked about loving Procol Harum as one of the early progressive bands, and he remembers getting the album and loving the title song even though those unusual chords threw him at first. He could not figure out the structure right away. Gowan also sees a connection to Come Sail Away in the way the song unfolds, and the band did a nice job threading that nautical needle. The whole Big Bang Theory project came together after their cover of I Am the Walrus went over well at a festival, leading them to record a bunch of pre-1972 classics that shaped their own influences, and this one fit the bill perfectly as a song for the ages.

As for how Styx themselves got started, it all goes back to the South Side of Chicago in the early 1960s. Twin brothers Chuck and John Panozzo, still kids, started jamming with their neighbor Dennis DeYoung, who was a couple years older and played accordion and sang. They formed a little group called the Tradewinds, playing around the neighborhood and eventually at high schools and parties while some of them studied at Chicago State College. The name shifted to TW4, for There Were 4, after another band claimed the Tradewinds title nationally. They brought in guitarist John Curulewski, a college friend, and then hard rock guitarist James Young joined up around 1970, rounding out the sound with more edge and experimentation.

By 1972 the group had a demo that caught the ear of Wooden Nickel Records, a local label tied to RCA. The company wanted them to change the name, so the members tossed around ideas and settled on Styx because it was the only suggestion that none of them actively hated. The name comes from that mythological river in Greek stories that separates the living from the dead, a cool concept for a rock band that wanted to take listeners somewhere else. They signed the contract and put out their first album that year, with a single called Best Thing that got some local attention. Those early years were about building a following on the Chicago club circuit, blending hard rock with progressive touches and strong harmonies, before the bigger breakthroughs came later with songs that filled arenas. Chuck Panozzo has written about how the name felt like an invitation to cross over into another realm, and that spirit stuck with the band through all the lineups and years of touring.

Styx kept evolving from those humble beginnings, adding Tommy Shaw in the mid-1970s and later bringing in players like Gowan, but the core idea of mixing melody, power, and a bit of theater has carried through. For more on the band, check out their official site at styxworld.com, along with their Facebook at facebook.com/styxtheband, Instagram at instagram.com/styxtheband, and X at x.com/STYXtheBand. Fans hang out in the Styxworld Facebook group at facebook.com/groups/styxworld, where people share stories and celebrate all the eras. Keep it locked here with the Zoo Crew for more of these classic rock deep cuts that the Zoo Freaks dig.