Welsh progger Robert Reed has had his share of the spotlight here before – as a core player in neo-prog stalwarts Magenta and Cyan, as half of avant-garde duo Chimpan A, lately as the driving force behind the ambient-Celtic longform Sanctuary albums. In the process, like so many other independent artists, he’s taken the DIY approach to releasing and distributing his recordings.

Reed’s latest on Tigermoth Records is his long-awaited “director’s cut” of 2012’s Kompendium: Beneath the Waves. A full-fledged rock opera with seamlessly integrated classical and folk elements, the original held me spellbound on its initial release; after all, how could I resist an epic, darkly romantic tale of Love that’s stronger than Death? Especially when the story was told via the spectacular singing of Chimpan A’s Steve Balsamo and Sanctuary’s Angharad Brin (plus a plethora of operatic role players and the English Chamber Choir), grounded by the effortlessly stylish rhythm section of Nick Beggs and Gavin Harrison, and seasoned by an all-star roster of soloists from Steve Hackett and piper Troy Donockley to King Crimson’s Jakko Jakszyk and Mel Collins, all floating atop Dave Stewart’s immense, glorious orchestrations? Three fresh bonus tracks (“My Soul Laid Bare” featuring Les Penning and Tiger Moth Tales/Cyan stalwart Peter Jones, “Stars” and “The Calling”) slot effortlessly into the original narrative, adding depth and detail to the ardent flow of Reed’s grand design. His mission statement for the original album was “Remember when music was more than a click of a mouse?” and Beneath the Waves delivers the old school goods, mashing up the symphonic thrust of Mike Oldfield’s early works with the melodrama of Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds, while bringing it all bang up to date. This will be on my year-end Favorites list for sure! (Regular and deluxe editions can be ordered from the Tigermoth online shop or The Band Wagon USA. Reed doesn’t place music on streaming services, but the video below gives a solid overview of the album.)

And beyond his own music, Reed has done the prog world a service with his other label White Knight Records, recently making room for two long-time Progarchy faves who’ve moved on from genre giant Inside Out! First, following a couple of intimate (yet no less marvelous) detours from the galactic sweep of his original Lonely Robot trilogy, John Mitchell brings together both threads to give his conceptual space prog throughline An Ending. As always, Mitchell’s heart is on his sleeve lyrically, his instrumental and vocal hooks are irresistible, and his guitar solos constantly arc skywards, whether on proggy rifferama single “Show the Way”, mid-tempo power ballad “The River”, heavy rocker “Rearview” or the gently mournful concluding suite “Bending Light/Iron Sea/Oblique”. With Craig Blundell on drums shadowing Mitchell’s every multi-instrumental move, this is a fine, deeply felt conclusion to the Lonely Robot era — whether bathed in ecstasy or melancholy, the words and music are heartfelt and cathartic as always. (Order from Tigermoth or The Band Wagon USA.)

And our longtime hero Andy Tillison has also landed on White Knight, bringing with him The Tangent’s most ambtious, generously sprawling magnum opus yet; Was: A Nostalgia serves up Tillison’s classic blend of social awareness and stylistic eclecticism in heaping proportions, to consistently stunning effect. Disc 1’s “Was/Almost Was” meditates on time, memory (personal and cultural), atrocities far away and bacchanalia up close; Earth Wind and Fire shake hands with Ralph Vaughan Williams on the short, soulful shot “Follow the River”; and “Almost Was” chews on the pros and cons of our collective hunger for the good old days, complete with “The Prog Rock Bit in 7”. But wait, there’s more: disc 2’s “La Suite ‘Ce q’etait” is a full-fledged electric sinfonia, kaleidoscopically shifting from chamber woodwinds and piano through a smattering of ELP (complete with Tarkus quotes) and blaxploitation grooves. In between there are graceful, completely idiomatic episodes of smoky jazz that summon up Don Ellis and Miles Davis in equal measure, before a final blast of rock and Tillison’s ultimate rallying cry “Laisse moi chanter”. Throughout, guitarist Luke Machin and Soft Machine’s woodwinds genius Theo Travis climb peak after peak with their solo work; new bassist John Jowitt and drummer Steve Roberts hold down the ever-shifting foundations without skipping a beat (well, at least on purpose); and Tillison plays and sings for his life, whether summoning up digital orchestras, growling organ and synths, or his unassumingly earthly style of sprechstimme. The Tangent always has something to say about retaining our humanity in an inhumane world, and Was carries on that tradition with panache and passion. Give the title track below a shot and see what it does for – and to – you. (Available from Tigermoth and The Band Wagon USA; I cheerfully recommend the deluxe edition, which includes a bonus CD with an hour-plus of spellbinding outtakes.)

— Rick Krueger