My copy of Nick d’Virgilo’s Invisible was still in the mail when I read Bryan’s first impressions of it. Following its arrival and repeated listens, here are my two cents.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect from this release, and was pleasantly surprised as a result; it gets better every time I hear it. As Bryan says, Invisible doesn’t sound much like Big Big Train (though it puts d’Virgilio’s jazz-rock flavored compositions for BBT in context), or even middle-period Spock’s Beard. And it only dabbles in the hyper, clattery alt-pop NDV tackled with Randy McStine and Jonas Reingold on The Fringe. Mostly, this is an album of classy, soulful rock and pop with R&B undercurrents, reminiscent of nothing so much as the pre-Nirvana mainstream. The progginess is in the extended structures, the virtuoso playing and the overall concept; “The Alan Parsons Project with a lot more horsepower” might be a good thumbnail description.
(Invisible is a pretty cool example of creative entrepreneurship in today’s music industry, too. By leveraging his gig at Fort Wayne’s Sweetwater Studios, d’Virgilio managed to play ten different drum kits in exchange for promotional considerations — i.e. the drool-worthy “Drum Gear” booklet included with each copy — and draw on a bevy of guest stars from studio master classes, with Cheap Trick’s Rick Nielsen as the wildest card in his deck.)
The down to earth storyline, a solid redemption narrative with some nifty twists, definitely helps make Invisible appealing and relatable. But I would argue that the musical means d’Virgilio uses to build out his concept seal the deal. Beyond his emotive singing and consistently brilliant drum work, Nick’s polished efforts on electric piano, loops, bass, bass synth and guitars provide a sturdy chassis for each track; his fellow Sweetwater pros, guest stars and prog buddies lovingly customize the power trains and bodies; and the strings and brass of the Orchestra at Abbey Road furnish plush aural upholstery (along with a recurring musical theme based on the chorus of “Where’s the Passion”).
As a result, every single track of this album grabs on tight from the beginning — not just revealing more depth and emotional resonance with every repeat, but also relentlessly propelling the overall narrative forward. The desolation of the title track and the downbeat cover of “Money (That’s What I Want)”; the defiance of “Turn Your Life Around” and “Overcome”; the devastation of “Waiting for No One” and “Not My Time to Say Goodbye”; the cathartic deliverance of the finale “I Know the Way” — this is outright sonic cinema, pictures vividly created in your head by state of the art, high quality music.
So, yeah, I’m sold on Invisible; it’s already in contention for my end-of-the-year favorites list. And I think you might dig it too. So order it from NDV’s website or Burning Shed; heck, listen on Spotify if you can’t wait for it to arrive. Whatever. You really shouldn’t miss this one.
— Rick Krueger