Procol Harum – Conquistador

When Conquistador first appeared on Procol Harum’s 1967 debut album, it carried the bones of something grander than its concise arrangement suggested. Written by pianist and vocalist Gary Brooker with lyrics by Keith Reid, the song’s Spanish cadence and poetic fatalism felt out of time even then — a miniature epic disguised as baroque pop. Yet its full power would not be realized until half a decade later, when an orchestral version with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra transformed it into a chart hit. The 1973 live performance for Belgium’s RTBF television arrived in the afterglow of that success, capturing the band stripped of orchestral adornment but still steeped in the song’s stately drama.

In this broadcast, the music unfolds with the restraint of a chamber piece and the urgency of classic rock. Brooker, seated at the piano, delivers the vocal with somber clarity, his phrasing weighted by the irony in Reid’s words — a narrator addressing a fallen conqueror whose ambitions have turned to dust. Robin Trower’s guitar lines drift between lament and defiance, while B.J. Wilson’s drumming moves like weather beneath the melody: slow thunder gathering and dispersing. The absence of strings or brass only heightens the starkness, revealing how self-contained the composition truly is.

The RTBF cameras, working in the modest confines of a studio, give the performance a documentary intensity. There are no theatrics, only the quiet conviction of a band in full command of tone and space. Each shot lingers long enough for gestures to matter — Brooker’s left hand driving the rhythm, Trower’s head bent in concentration, Wilson’s cymbals whispering decay. It is a portrait of musicianship as endurance, the song’s sense of futility mirrored by the discipline with which they deliver it.

By this point, Conquistador had become more than a track in the band’s catalog; it was a statement of identity. Its orchestral incarnation had climbed to No. 16 on the U.S. charts, giving Procol Harum their most significant success since A Whiter Shade of Pale, but the RTBF version strips it back to its essentials — the fusion of literary vision and musical architecture that defined the group’s best work. Few performances from the early 1970s capture such equilibrium between grandeur and humility, between the mythic and the mortal.

Half a century on, the RTBF session stands as one of the most telling documents of Procol Harum’s artistry. It shows a band capable of conjuring vast emotion from minimal means, turning the ghost of empire into a meditation on loss and endurance. In that Belgian studio, without orchestra or stagecraft, Conquistador becomes what it always was at heart — an elegy played as a fanfare, a rock song sung to history’s ruins.

Line-up: Gary Brooker – vocals, piano; Robin Trower – guitar; Chris Copping – bass, organ; B.J. Wilson – drums; lyrics by Keith Reid.