Rick’s Quick Takes for June

It’s been an hugely enjoyable month for out-of-the-box music! Along with the alluring, elegant wallop of Nad Sylvan’s Monumentata (listen here) and the mesmeric slow burn of Jakko Jakszyk’s ruminative Son of Glen (listen here), three impressive new releases, a compilation taken from one of this year’s most-anticipated box sets, an utterly unexpected reissue — plus one from last year that got away — have crossed my desk. As usual, purchasing links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with streaming options after the review.

Cosmograf, The Orphan Epoch: Another winning set from Robin Armstrong! More thematic than conceptual this time around, The Orphan Epoch focuses on today’s younger generation and their search for a valid path, confronted by conformity and control like never before. “Division Warning” unfurls from fetching piano filigree to steamroller guitar supporting a dramatic, emotionally ripe chorus; elegance and savagery bob and weave, then fly in formation for “We Are the Young.” There’s gorgeous sax commentary from Peter Jones on the foreboding “Seraphim Reels”; big riffs, gang chanting and blustery organ workouts on “Kings and Lords”; a quiet, menacing synth pulse that, with Kyle Fenton’s skittering drums, propels the encroaching darkness of “You Didn’t See the Thief”; the loose yet inevitable build of “Empty Box.” It all coalesces along “The Road of Endless Miles,” as strong, hard power chording pushes Armstrong’s overdriven vocals to a striking crest, then ebbs away into dead silence. Impeccable, punchy, dynamic sound throughout brings out so much fine-grained detail, all in the service of Armstrong’s bleak yet beautiful, thoroughly humanistic vision. Moving and gutsy, this impressive record deserves the widest possible audience.

Louise Patricia Crane, Netherworld: Both in his recent Progarchy interview and in the liner notes for his latest, Son of Glen, Jakko M. Jakszyk has been beating the drums for this 2024 album – and he’s right to do it! Crane brings vaulting artistic ambition, assured worldbuilding and mad skills at singing, playing and production to bear on Netherworld; the result is an utterly absorbing song-cycle that pulls you in with the initial “Dance with the Devil” and refuses to let go until the last strains of “Japanese Doll” have died away. Wisps of early Genesis and Tull give “Tiny Bard” and “The Lady Peregrine’s Falcon” a folk-prog tinge, while a trace of vintage Kate Bush lingers in Crane’s resonant vocals, but the sweep of her archetypal lyrics and the variety of settings (from subtly psychedelic “The Red Room” to the overcast jazz of “Bete Noire”) dispel any hint of tired pastiche. Rather, Jakszyk joins an imposing crew of modern prog titans (hailing from King Crimson, Marillion, and points beyond), all dedicated to bringing Crane’s singular point of view to life. These classic ingredients come together in a heady, winningly original brew on an atmospheric soundstage that breathes; Nick Drake’s catalog and the rumbling calm of Talk Talk’s post-rock years are the closest parallels I can call to mind. Netherworld is a brilliant album, thoroughly deserving of your time, attention — and even love. It went on my Belated Favorites list like a shot!

Mary Halvorson, About Ghosts: More kaleidoscopic ensemble jazz from Halvorson’s Amaryllis sextet plus guests (including youthful sax giant Immanuel Wilkins). The warm, glittering sound of opener “Full of Neon” is typical here; launching a pointillistic riff, the ensemble builds through brass smears and a convoluted unison head to perfectly judged solos from trombonist Jacob Garchik and guest tenor Brian Settles. Trumpeter Adam O’Farrill, vibist Patricia Brennan and Wilkins get their licks in as well, while the rhythm section of Nick Dunston and Tomas Fujiwara kick up plenty of dust and swing like mad. And while Halvorson generally lays back as a soloist here (“Carved From”, also a spotlight moment for Wilkins, is an enjoyable exception), her pointed guitar tone laced with congenial digital wobbles consistently pokes through at just the right moments. From “Absinthian’s” uptempo tick-tock through the graceful Ellingtonia of the title track to the sleek glide of “Polyhedral” and “Endmost’s” smooth, richly chorded bossa, Halvorson and her players are always inventive and inviting, conjuring sunny textures from the knottiest material. A great way to either discover this fine composer/performer’s unique voice, or to check out her continuing growth.

Markus Reuter – featuring Fabio Trentini and Asaf Sirkis, Truce <3: Full-on instrumental rock from three undersung players who know their stuff — including the magic that can happen when the red light comes on with nothing prepared! Reuter’s touch guitar conjures up hanging sonic clouds, cycling loops, piledriving licks and rich melodic spirals; Trentini’s bass lines ground the evolving excursions with a tasty mix of repetition and variation, plus fat, enticing tone; on drums, Sirkis is endlessly, subtly inventive within rock-solid grooves. Slinky kickoff “Not Alone,” the driven, stuttering funk of “It’s Not in the Cards,” the bubbling, smoldering interplay of “Crooked” and “Guardian Shadow,” with its stinging elegiac lament that morphs into a total wig-out, are just the highlights; every improvisatory leap here is inspired. Completely whipped up from scratch like the first two entries in this stunning series, Truce<3 catches music as it’s made on the fly, irresistibly setting body, mind and heart in motion. Already on the Favorites list for this year.

The Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus, Rumours of Angels: Originally part of 2013 French boxset After the End, this set compiles two EPs from the end of RAIJ’s 20th-century run and two previously uncollected tracks. As such, you can hear the gleeful clash of opposites — floating folk melodies, chant and spoken word colliding with low drones, tribal rhythms and bruising industrial noise, all drenched in thick, wet echo — that marked the Liverpool collective’s initial, headlong assault on modernity. If tracks like “Cantata Sacra” and “Dies Irae” feel like desperate attempts to call down the Holy Spirit through sheer, strenuous force, moments in “The Parable (of the Singing Ringing Tree)” and “Suspended on a Cross” point toward the mix of ambient stillness and randomized sound collage that permeate later, more considered classics Beauty Will Save the World and Songs of Yearning (my album of 2020). For those who’ve already taken the plunge, Rumours of Angels is an unexpected gift, a vital signpost on RAIJ’s road toward their current, more meditative (yet still earthy) incarnation. If you’re new to it all, don’t let me dissuade you from trying this one out — but be sure to buckle up!

Bruce Springsteen, Lost and Found – Selections from the Lost Albums: I’d argue there are at least three facets to Springsteen’s artistic persona: the unstoppable Boss, barnstorming the globe with the E Street Band; the compulsive singer/songwriter, forever panning his psyche for creative gold; and most evident here, the obsessional auteur, agonizing time after time over the content of his next release. This sampler from Tracks II, an expansive (and exorbitantly priced) box of 7 unreleased albums, startles with the scope of Springsteen’s musical inspirations — though your mileage may vary as to how convincing the various genre exercises are. Chilled-out trip-hop Bruce (“Blind Spot”), spiritual-but-not-religious Bruce (“Faithless”) and country/rockabilly Bruce (“Repo Man”) click best for me; and even tejano Bruce (“Adelita”) and saloon crooner Bruce (“Sunday Love”) have their arresting moments. If anything, the straight-up rockers might be the weakest element here; “You Lifted Me Up” reminds me of nothing so much as a third-string praise and worship chorus. Still, it’s hard to beat Lost and Found’s value — 1/4th of the box set’s tracks for 1/20th of the price, and it certainly lets you know what you’re in for from Springsteen’s latest raid on his vaults. If you’re intrigued like I am, check out the sampler, maybe listen to the complete set online — then hope for a Black Friday price drop.

— Rick Krueger

2024 In Review: kruekutt’s Final Favorites!

No big hoo-hah this year: just a down and dirty list of my favorite releases and reissues of the year, covered in previous Quick Takes or elsewhere on the Web (links are to my original articles)!

New Releases

Reissues

(Re)Discoveries

Thanks for your ongoing attention and steadfast support. We at the Rockin’ Republic of Prog appreciate it! Best wishes as we all turn the corner and head into the New Year!

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes for Spring

For your consideration, recent releases from the worlds of prog, jazz, folk, country and marvelously unclassifiable music. As usual, purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with streaming previews below the review.

Can, Live in Paris 1973: Another immensely enjoyable archive release from the guys who sent krautrock into orbit with a winning combination of tight grooves and freeform jamming. The fresh angle this time around is the presence of late vocalist Damo Suzuki; locking in with Jaki Liebezeit’s propulsive percussion, the throbbing bass of Holger Czukay, and Michael Karoli and Irwin Schmidt’s guitar/keyboard interplay, Suzuki burbles, banters, bickers – a daffy, devious jester who pulls improvised melody and lyric from thin air as he goes along. Oh, and forget about sounding “just like the records” – studio tracks “One More Night” and “Spoon” are touched on to kick off the jams, then abandoned or deepened, stretched like taffy to the point of sonic hypnosis, mannnn . . . Five gripping examples of Can’s live prowess; whether they could actually stop time or not (it may have been the psychedelics), these ninety minutes of unbridled creativity go by in a flash.

The Bill Fay Group, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow: Ignored in the late 1960s and early 70s, British singer-songwriter Fay achieved cult favorite status after Wilco covered his hymnic “Be Not So Fearful” in the wake of 9/11. Utterly unlike the manneristic Dylan-meets-Kinks pop of his debut or the bleak rock crunch of 1971’s lost classic Time of the Last Persecution (both well worth seeking out), these vibrant demos from 1977 capture the gentle Christian mysticism at the heart of Fay’s songs, executed with grace and empathy by the three-piece Acme Quartet (?). The multiple versions of meditations like “Strange Stairway”, “Isles of Sleep” and “Life” radiate understated grace and power, foregoing apocalyptic panic to embrace simple, jubilant confessions of faith (“So that the world might believe/That Life has risen/That Life has conquered”). Prayers and hypnotic invocations that invite and welcome without rancor or hectoring, couched in song that’s timeless yet vividly in the moment.

Sierra Ferrell, Trail of Flowers: Widescreen mountain music for the anxious generation, this went straight to my 2024 Favorites list. In West Virginia native Ferrell’s sure grasp, her second album mounts to melodramatic heights on the wings of old time country. Ferrell’s sly, witty songwriting whiplashes between Americana subgenres to perfection; her opening run of originals – yearning road dog anthem “American Dreaming”, cautionary honky-tonk stomp “Dollar Bill Bar”, giddy fiddle reel “Fox Hunt”, and string-swathed heartbreaker “Wish You Well” left me astonished in the wake of their range and breadth. There isn’t a dud track here (check out jaunty Latin-tinged romp “Why Haven’t You Loved Me Yet”, murder ballad “Rosemary”, hybrid gospel/love song “Lighthouse” – oh heck, all of ’em); when you add in Ferrell’s beguiling voice (spanning the spectrum of twang from Janis Joplin to Dolly Parton and all points between) and gutsy fiddle work, plus producer Eddie Spear’s rich gothic ambience, the result is thoroughly winning. Believe the hype – if anybody can save country music from Greater Nashville’s ongoing torrent of processed pop, artists like Sierra Ferrell and Charley Crockett (both playing my local outdoor amphitheater this summer) are your best bet.

Vijay Iyer, Compassion: Building on the near-telepathic teamwork they established on 2021’s Uneasy (one of my faves from that year), pianist Iyer, bassist Linda May Han Oh and drummer Tyshawn Sorey come out swinging with this full-on follow-up. The impressionistic title tune shimmers into focus, with the trio relying on space and silence as much as sound; a luscious take on Stevie Wonder’s “Overjoyed” doubles as a tribute to Chick Corea, inspired by Iyer’s opportunity to play the late legend’s own piano. Whether on the angular, driving “Ghostrumental” or the rugged throwback blues “It Goes”, Oh pulls gorgeous melodies out of the air, Sorey whips up a seething percussive stew even as he grooves, and Iyer stirs in one heady, pensive idea after another. Iyer characterizes the music as “a reminder, an assurance, a plea, and perhaps an inspiration – to find each other in this together”; it’s a tribute to these exceptional musicians that, with what seems like maximum grace and minimum sweat, Compassion tangibly conjures up the empathy it advocates in sound.

Joel Ross, nublues: Chicago-born vibraphonist Ross impressed me to no end when I caught him live as part of the Blue Note 85th-Anniversary All-Star Band this past January. His fourth album is of a piece with his previous three: a soundworld of abstract yet delightfully contemplative jazz, soaked in the blues, always tumbling and turning with a non-stop flow of invention. Ross’ interaction with young saxophone lion Immanuel Wilkins (also an All-Star), Jeremy Corren on piano and bass/drums duo Kanoa Mendenhall and Jeremy Corren are the secret sauce at the music’s heart, whether putting their own spin on Thelonious Monk’s “Evidence” or John Coltrane’s “Equinox” and “Central Park West”, conjuring the title track from thin air – Mendenhall shines on bowed bass here – or building “Bach (God the Father in Eternity)” into a steamrolling surge of gospel-soaked eloquence. It’s like crashing a conversation already in progress and discovering you were invited all along.

SiX by SiX, Beyond Shadowland: Robert Berry, Ian Crichton and Nigel Glockler hit hard and strong, blasting past Difficult Second Album Syndrome to craft a wild and wooly extension of their first-rate debut. Sonically, this one comes across hotter and crunchier, as multi-instrumentalist Berry corrals Crichton’s hypercreative guitar licks into decidedly unconventional song structures, then layers in heaping helpings of lyrical positivity, while Glockler lays down rock solid percussive foundations. The result is a record that gets stronger as it goes, with head-turning surprises that stack up thick and fast: the acoustic-based sci-fi narrative “Obiliex”, the slashing, tribally funky “Titans”, the fuzz-toned flutter of “Sympathize” and, in “One Step”, an epic that progresses from yearning balladry through a proggy midsection to a hip-hop shuffle that works! Add in the relatively straight-up singles “Arms of a Word” and “The Mission” and you have a sophomore effort that oozes both mass appeal and maximum creativity. Check out the new Progarchy interview with Robert Berry here.

The Tangent, To Follow Polaris (released May 10): On which Andy Tillison takes off the gloves. Playing all the instruments himself (the album’s labeled “Tangent for one”) with style and panache, Tillison sails confidently through textures ranging from glitchy electronica to vintage soul and funk, with generous lashings of his trademark organ and synthesizer throughout. Kaleidoscopic overture/mission statement “The North Sky” lays down Tillison’s lyrical marker on graspable truth; brooding ballad-of-the-algorithm “A Like in the Darkness” paints a genuinely creepy portrait of online life; “The Fine Line” muses on the commodification of journalism, “destroy[ing] the world to sell the story”. Then on “The Anachronism”, Andy lets it rip – a furious jeremiad calling out both the ineffectual monocracy that’s lost its grip on events and the self-absorbed masses who watch it all happen on their phones. The whole thing builds to a crashing, anarchic climax – only to return to Tillison’s beginning, “follow[ing] the North Star/(When all around me seems to be going South)”. Be warned: something Tillison sings on this audacious, accomplished effort will probably cheese you off – but only because, in a world of grinning provocateurs, shameless attention whores and cynical game players, he’s a genuine idealist, with no other agenda than speaking his mind and wondering why we can’t have a better world.

Transatlantic, Morsefest 2022: The Absolute Whirlwind: Or should this be subtitled, “More Never Is Enough . . . Yet Again, Still”? Transatlantic’s second live set off the back of 2022’s The Absolute Universe, this five-CD, two-BluRay set certainly doesn’t skimp on the quantity. There’s five hours of music here from two consecutive nights: the twin album-length epics that provide the release’s title, three elongated ballads, a side-long Procol Harum cover, and bits and bobs of five more extended extravaganzas from the back catalog. It’s not all gravy; there are brief instants where the energy flags and, as Neal Morse and Roine Stolt strain to sing the high notes, I’m reminded that it’s been 25 years since this supergroup first crashed into the prog world’s consciousness. But these are far outnumbered by the moments where Morse, Stolt, Pete Trewavas, Mike Portnoy and “fifth Transatlantic” Ted Leonard fire up the afterburners and launch into startlingly tight ensemble passages, awe-inspiring solos, pin-sharp vocal counterpoint (often backed up by a real choir), dizzying transitions and over-the-top, orchestrally augmented climaxes. Too much of a good thing? It’s possible – but, with the recent news that Portnoy’s resumed the drum chair in Dream Theater, Transatlantic isn’t a good thing to be taken for granted.

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes for January (In the Bleak Midwinter)

Note: Artist/title links go to purchase options; streaming previews follow reviews.

Mary Halvorson, Cloudward: Trailblazing guitarist Halvorson gathers the sextet from her 2022 classic Amaryllis around eight new avant-jazz compositions. Trumpeter Adam O’Farrill and trombonist Jacob Garchik sizzle on opener “The Gate”; Patricia Brennan’s vibraphone lends a rich shimmer to “The Tower”; Nick Dunston launches an epic bass solo to kick off the closing “Ultramarine”. And Tomas Fujiwara? He’s everything you could imagine in one drummer — meditatively punctuating “Unscrolling”, driving the riff-fest “Tailhead” and covering all points in-between. Set these folks loose on their leader’s sinewy, elegant concoctions of yearning and abstraction, and you never know what will happen next. All the while, Halvorson sets the pace on her instrument, with a woody, delay-laced sound and a skittering, percussive style all her own. Whether Halvorson’s and company are swinging like mad on “Collapsing Mouth” or coalescing like electrical static around Laurie Anderson’s guest violin on “Incarnadine”, Cloudward is another head-spinning, laugh-out-loud delight.

Neal Morse, The Restoration — Joseph, Part Two: The conclusion of Morse’s latest rock opera takes Part One’s rough and ready swagger and turns it up to 11, with grit even in the proggiest moments (Jacob’s sons’ vocal fugue a la Gentle Giant on “The Argument”) and fresh muscle propelling the Latin groove “Everlasting”. There’s heft to the lyrics too, as the showdown between a newly-powerful Joseph and his off-balance brothers displaces Neal’s usual conversion narrative. (Don’t worry, though; reconciliation and revival are just a title track away.) With tight melodic/thematic connections to The Dreamer and a beefy sound recalling George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass and Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen, The Restoration is also a spectacular vocal showcase; ensemble highlights include Ted Leonard’s emotive Judah and the Nick D’Virgilio/Ross Jennings cameos as Pharaoh’s butler and baker, and Morse puts his newly darkened tone to thrilling use at dramatic highpoints like “I Hate My Brothers”. Together, the Joseph albums are easily my favorite Morse-related releases since The Similitude of a Dream and The Great Adventure, and The Restoration goes straight to my Official Faves List for the new year.

PAKT, No Steps Left to Trace: Another year, another heaping helping of cutting-edge free improvisation from MoonJune Records, courtesy of indefatigable impresario Leonardo Pavkovic! Now in their third year as a collective, bassist Percy Jones, guitarist Alex Skolnick, drummer Kenny Grohowski and guitarist/electronicist Tim Motzer unleash their first double album, created entirely from scratch both in the studio and live. It’s a genuinely explosive set, especially when Jones (best known from Phil Collins’ 1970s fusion band Brand X) ramps up the double-time grooves and his compatriots lock on! But the intensity doesn’t slacken when the music spaces out, either; listening hard and leaning into their deep, uncanny sense of interplay, PAKT also conjures some of the most arresting ambient jams I’ve come across recently. Bursting every genre boundary you can think of, No Steps Left to Trace isn’t for the musically faint of heart — but, for those with ears to hear, it’s a trip well worth taking.

Porcupine Tree, Closure/Continuation. Live Amsterdam 7/11/22: The show I saw in Chicago a couple of months before but bigger, scaled up for packed European arenas instead of partially-filled Stateside auditoriums and rush-released on video before Christmas. The sum of all the prog-metal parts here is flat-out engaging: Gavin Harrison’s percussive impossibilities and Richard Barbieri’s synth squelches ground Steven Wilson’s driven singing and sardonic patter, while utility players supreme Randy McStine and Nate Navarro slam the songs home. Newer material stacks up well against PT’s classics, with pensive slowburns “Dignity”, “Chimera’s Wreck” and “Buying New Soul” nicely offsetting thrashy frequency-eaters “Blackest Eyes”, “Herd Culling” and “Anesthetize”. A solid introduction for anyone who missed the Tree’s initial, spiky flowering, this one will probably resonate deeper with longtime fans (like me) who took Wilson’s long-term “never again” PR onslaught at face value – until we no longer had to.

The Smile, Wall of Eyes: Admit it: does Stanley Donwood’s latest album cover look like a psychedelic Lord of the Rings paperback cover from the 1960s or what? And the title track kick-off of this Radiohead-facing project is every bit as disorienting: a understated bossa nova from Tom Skinner to which a balefully depressive Thom Yorke lyric, tightly wound orchestral smears and Jonny Greenwood’s arhythmic guitar plinks attach themselves like disfiguring barnacles. No forthright kicks to the head in the style of A Light for Attracting Attention here; The Smile beckon us toward dystopia ever so gently — odd-time licks over the ominous vamp “Read the Room”, Greenwood and Skinner gouging a trench below Yorke’s mewling protests on “Under Our Pillows”; the Beatlesque ballad “Friend of a Friend” delicately dissolving the boundary between courage and despair in less than five minutes. In the face of lives ever more trapped onscreen, are the only options self-destruction (as “Bending Hectic’s” dissonant strings erupting into unmistakable Greenwood power chords) or resignation to Technopoly’s embrace (the closing “You Know Me!”)? Whatever our take, Yorke, Greenwood and Skinner once again prove brutally honest guides to the expanse of beauty and abyss of horrors lying before us. 

— Rick Krueger 

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part 3

Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify/YouTube for streaming with a additional purchase link following the review.

Neal Morse, The Dreamer – Joseph, Part One: For his latest rock opera a la 2019’s Jesus Christ the Exorcist, Morse and his studio sidekicks swerve toward hard-hitting blues-rock; the usual “Overture” and the narrative tracks “Burns Like A Wheel” and “Gold Dust City” are stuffed to the brim with chunky organ and grunged-up wah-wah guitar work. Wailing vocals from the cast of Christian Progressive Rock stalwarts who play Jacob, Joseph’s brothers and his Egyptian captors slot right in; even the power ballads (“The Pit”) have more grit this time around! And while the second half of the album is stylistically slicker (complete with classical chorale “I Will Wait on the Lord”), the hooky closer “Why Have You Forsaken Me?” pulls all the musical threads together, with Morse’s emotive portrayal of Joseph setting up intriguing possibilities for Part 2 — which, given his extravagant productivity, shouldn’t be too long in coming. Order from Radiant Records here.

Tu-Ner, T-1 Contact Information: Power trio improvisation that takes no prisoners, from another eerily luminous satellite band orbiting the gravity well of King Crimson. Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto formed one of Crimson’s most ferocious rhythm sections in the early 2000s, also recording together as TU; here Mastelotto clatters away merrily on his sonic smorgasbord of drums and percussion, while Gunn unleashes the deepest, fattest bass licks known to subwoofers. Above and around the Rhythm Buddies’ brutalist bedrock, Markus Reuter (who’s worked with Mastelotto in the duo Tuner and the trio Stick Men) unleashes slashing, swooping touch guitar lines and dark, brooding soundscape clouds — and when Gunn joins him on the higher end, sparks really fly. Always arresting, intermittently galvanizing, but the track titles (or this review for that matter) can’t really give you a feel for what this sounds like. In other words, you’ve gotta hear what Tu-Ner do to believe it.

Richard Wright, Wet Dream: In case you ever wondered exactly what keyboardist Wright brought to Pink Floyd, his 1978 solo album has it in spades. On tracks like “Mediterranean C” and “Drop In from the Top” lush, floating chord progressions set up open-ended jams by guitarist Snowy White and sax legend Mel Collins; Wright’s reedy voice spins out languid vignettes of detachment and disillusion such as “Summer Elegy” and “Holiday”. All thoroughly gorgeous (especially in this immaculate new Steven Wilson remix), occasionally funky, ineffably melancholy — and not terribly urgent in isolation. Still, you can hear the breathing space that Floyd lost as Wright faded into the background and Roger Waters began repeatedly kicking his audience in the head on The Wall. Order from Rhino Records here.

Ultravox, Quartet [Deluxe Edition]: Speaking of immaculate Steven Wilson remixes: this is his third in a series for the British new wave quartet. Regrouping after early personnel changes, Ultravox struck a quirky vein of New Romantic post-punk on 1980’s Vienna, then pursued cutting-edge Krautrock on the follow-up Rage in Eden. Connecting with legendary producer/5th Beatle George Martin, frontman Midge Ure, violinist/keyboardist Billly Currie, bassist Chris Cross and drummer Warren Cann aimed straight for the charts; Quartet is as pure of a pop album as they ever achieved. The UK singles “Reap the Wild Wind,” “Hymn,” “Visions in Blue” and “We Came to Dance” have an irresistible mix of rock drive, synth-pop color and devil-may-care melody, and the album tracks slot right in; the whole thing’s overripe and melodramatic in the most appealing way. Plenty of extras in the 7-disc box too, with b-sides, rarities, rehearsal tapes, studio monitor mixes and an intense live set all included. Order from the Ultravox store here.

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part 3”

Rick’s Quick Takes for May

As always, purchase links are embedded in each artist/title listing; playlists/videos/samples follow the review.

Artemis, In Real Time: This second album delivers on the promise and potential of Artemis’ 2020 debut. As I recently discovered in concert, here’s a jazz sextet with a forceful front line (Nicole Glover and Alexa Tarantino on woodwinds, Ingrid Jensen on trumpet) and an assertive rhythm section (founder Renee Rosnes on piano, Noriko Ueda on bass, Allison Miller on drums) that revels in both challenging and collaborating with each other. Whether hurtling through the post-bop twists of Miller’s “Bow and Arrow” and Jensen’s “Timber”, reaching for the skies on Ueda’s open-hearted “Lights Away From Home” or tenderly exploring Rosnes’ spacious ballads “Balance Of Time” and “Empress Afternoon” — not to mention their unique spins on tunes by departed giants Lyle Mays and Wayne Shorter — this is a group of top-rank players that mesh marvelously as an ensemble, delivering a whole lot of serious, elegant fun.

Brian Dunne, Loser on the Ropes: It’s true that I wouldn’t have come across this New Jersey-born, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter if my nephew hadn’t played drums for his recent tour. But I’m glad I did! Dunne’s vivid lyrics — questing, skeptical, bemused, and poignant all at once — hitch a ride on his insistent verbal rhythms, catchy melodies and tightly constructed tunes, sung with his direct, inviting voice to impressive effect. He rocks out on “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors” and “Bad Luck” and whips up midtempo singalongs on “It’s A Miracle” and “Optimist,” slowing down for more reflective efforts like the title track and the closer “Something to Live For”. There are sonic echoes of mid-period Dire Straits and (inevitably?) 1980s Springsteen, but this is fresh, thoughtful music with both forthright appeal and subtle intensity, well worth hearing.

Bill Evans, Treasures: from the late 1950s to his premature demise in 1980, Bill Evans changed jazz piano forever with what Miles Davis called his “quiet fire”, reshaping the piano trio format as a conversation of equals in the process. The latest in a rich harvest of archival discoveries from jazz detective Zev Feldman and his compatriots, Treasures captures Evans’ steady, probing artistic growth in the late 1960s via a series of visits to Denmark. Whether captured solo, in full flight with various bassists and drummers, or even at a heart of a suite for big band and orchestra, Evans is consistently engaged, shaping jazz standards, rarified pop tunes and his own compositions into things of sheer beauty with his intense lyricism and sense of swing. As good an introduction to this titan of the genre as any!

Guardians of the Galaxy, Awesome Mix, Vol. 3: Fair warning: this semi-soundtrack to the latest Marvel Cinematic Universe blockbuster probably won’t give children of 1970s radio like me the same nostalgia buzz as the first two volumes of Awesome Mix. Sure, there are still great throwbacks from Heart, Rainbow, Earth Wind & Fire, Alice Cooper and Bruuuce; but this time around they share playlist space with the American slacker punk (X, The Replacements) rock-rap (Beastie Boys, Faith No More), and post-indie dream pop (Florence and the Machine) that followed over the decades. So it’s a more diffuse experience, with tracks that are actually eminently forgettable (Spacehog? The Mowgli’s?) — not to mention a missed opportunity for a prog shout-out. On the other hand, any compilation that includes The Flaming Lips’ hospice anthem “Do You Realize?” and EHAMIC’s “Koinu No Carnival” — Chopin filtered through an electronica mixmaster! — deserves at least a listen, and possibly space on your shelf or hard drive.

Marillion, Seasons End Deluxe Edition: The final reissue in the set of Los Marillos’ eight EMI albums, boxed up in typically comprehensive fashion. Layering his and John Helmer’s words atop the veteran band’s latest soundscapes (often repurposed from a futile final effort at working with original vocalist Fish), new boy Steve Hogarth brought it all back home with melodies that tacked closer to folksong than operatic recitative and scenarios that evoked slice-of-life drama as well as existential soliloquies. In retrospect, Seasons End was just the start of H-era Marillion’s evolution, but the end result still rocks hard, smart and sharp after all these years, from the atmospheric intro of “The King of Sunset Town” to the unnerving claustrophobia of closer “The Space”. In addition to a remix of the 1989 original, we get b-sides, demos and early versions of multiple album tracks — plus three high-energy live sets (audio and video from 1990, plus 2022’s British Marillion Weekend) and two documentaries on the CD Blu-Ray version. Like the entire series, this re-release is great listening and great value for money. (And deluxe boxes of post-EMI albums have been promised by manager Lucy Jordache. Stay tuned …)

Paul Simon, Seven Psalms: Designed as a unified song-cycle to be heard in its entirety (it’s one 33-minute track on CD and streaming audio), Simon’s new work is a dreamlike meditation unlike anything else in his catalog. His subdued voice and acoustic guitar carry the musical weight, hinting at gospel, folk and blues as the suite unfurls, with ambience courtesy of composer Harry Partch’s “cloud chamber bowls”, British choir Voces8 and full orchestra. Anything but orthodox, metaphor-packed portraits of “The Lord” — who Simon compares to, among other things, a virus, a virgin forest and a record producer — become a recurring theme, punctuating scattered thoughts on life past and present. Scattered, that is, until the finale “Wait” (“I’m not ready/I’m just packing my gear”), where Simon abruptly, delicately drills down to our common endpoint. Ruminating on what’s been becomes a stoic stock-taking of what we’ve become, a bracing reminder of what awaits us all — and, just possibly, a call to hope in what might lie beyond. Subtle and devastatingly effective, Seven Psalms is a momento mori for the Boomer generation — and for anybody else with ears to hear.

U.K., Curtain Call: When keyboardist/violinist Eddie Jobson locked in with guitar genius Allan Holdsworth and the then-defunct King Crimson’s rhythm section — John Wetton on bass & vocals, Bill Bruford drumming — sparks flew thick and fast. U.K.’s 1978 debut album was a sleek, captivating blend of progressive rock and jazz fusion; 1979’s Danger Money slimmed down to a more focused power trio as Zappa drummer Terry Bozzio replaced Bruford and Wetton’s writing veered toward proto-Asia pomp-rock. The inevitable semi-reunion happened in the 2010s, with Jobson coming off a productive career in film and TV scoring and Wetton rebounding from a hard-fought battle with substance abuse for a extraordinary final run. Joined here in 2013 by hot young virtuosos Alex Machacek (guitar) and Marco Minnemann (drums), the duo triumphantly roar through U.K.’s complete repertoire to an enthusiastic Tokyo crowd. From the crash/bash technoflash of “In the Dead of Night”, “Alaska/Time To Kill” and “Carrying No Cross” to the glowering, tasty tension of “Thirty Years” and Rendezvous 6:02″, this foursome whips up a level of excitement and energy that was unstoppable on the night and remains irresistible on disc. Now remastered and reissued by Jobson in tribute to his late partner, this reasonably priced video (on BluRay & DVD with a bonus audio Blu-Ray) is an immensely satisfying summation for long-time fans, and a glimpse of what the fuss was all about for curious newbies.

Yes, Mirror to the Sky: After the stodgy fiasco that was Heaven & Earth and the modest charm of The Quest, Steve Howe and the rest of Yes’ current line-up actually raise a ruckus this time around. Large helpings of vocal and instrumental interplay in the grand tradition, plenty of fresh, arresting guitar licks by Howe, and lots of splendidly evocative harmonies from Jon Davison and Billy Sherwood make Mirror to the Sky a real pleasure to hear. If you expect the peak inspiration and combustible drive of Yes’ classic era, you’ll be disappointed, but this release is a convincing mix of extended epics like the title track and proggy pop like the singles “Cut from the Stars” and “All Connected”, with only the bonus disc’s “Magic Potion” sounding like a dud to my ears. For me, the most enjoyable new Yes album since 1999’s The Ladder. Check out Time Lord’s review here.

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes for April

(As always, purchase links are included in the artist/title listing, with available online audio/video following.)

This month’s favorites:

The Zombies, Different Game. Led by singer Colin Blunstone and keyboardist Rod Argent, The Zombies notched three hit singles (“She’s Not There”, “Tell Her No” & “Time of the Season”) and a noted album of psychedelia (the misspelled, wildly adored Odessey and Oracle) back in the 1960s. This fourth effort since their late-90s reunion is my unexpected album of the month: a mesmerizing mix of the Baroque, the blues, witty lyrics worthy of the Great American Songbook and pile-driving soul. Argent’s compact yet ambitious songwriting is at a peak here: check out the elegiac, Bach-meets-John Lee Hooker title track; the doo-wop harmonies of “Rediscover”; the Motown/Steely Dan workouts of “Runaway” and “Merry-Go-Round”; the forlorn, string-laden balladry of “If You Would Be My Love” and “I Want to Fly”. And Blunstone can still stir up a furious storm with his R&B-inflected shouting or calm troubled waters with his cool serenity, frequently in the same tune! Mostly cut live in the studio, this is rock classicism at its finest; don’t miss it.

Nickel Creek, Celebrants. On their first outing in nine years, the progressive bluegrass trio riffs off an unlikely source to stunning effect. Inspired by the Beach Boys’ unfinished modular masterpiece SMiLE, mandolinist Chris Thile, violinist Sara Watkins and guitarist Sean Watkins conceived this album as a suite, with songs and instrumentals interconnected by recurring melodies and lyrics. The result flows brilliantly from beginning to end, impelled by these technically formidable, yet invitingly inventive players; the music moves like a flash from supple chamber textures (“The Meadow”) to propulsive rock (“Where the Long Line Leads”), through pensive slices of life (“To the Airport”) to hard-pickin’ instrumentals (such as the widely separated bookends “Going Out . . . Despite the Weather”). And that’s to say nothing of the trio’s thrilling, acrobatic vocal work, both solo and in harmony. Nickel Creek opens my local outdoor amphitheater this summer — and I, for one, can’t wait to hear what they do with this material!

London Brew. As with so much floating in the atmosphere of early 2020, this concept (a London concert celebrating the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis’ groundbreaking fusion album Bitches Brew) mutated along with COVID-19. Instead, we got something that’s arguably better — a dozen of the hottest young British jazzers jamming for three days in the studio, inspired by Miles’ ideas but whipping up a double-length set of free playing that’s more a seething maelstrom than a reverent tribute. Saxophonists Shabaka Hutchings (Sons of Kemet, The Comet Is Coming) and Nubya Garcia are probably most familiar to American listeners. along with drummer Tom Skinner (Sons of Kemet, Radiohead side project The Smile). Their fluidly molten lines and explosive grooves are core elements of this stormy music — but so are Nick Ramm and Nikolaj Torp Larsen’s floating keyboards, Martin Terefe and Dave Okumu’s boundary-bursting guitars, Raven Bush’s arcing violin, Theon Cross’ pumping tuba, and the volatile rhythm section of Tom Herbert and Dan See. The end result spins unpredictably between open, spacious textures and unstoppable torrents of furious sound, delivering 90 minutes of inspired, spectacularly unclassifiable music that never doubles back on itself.

This month’s jazz:

Chick Corea, Now He Sings, Now He Sobs (reissue). thanks to the no-frills Dutch reissue label Music On CD for bringing back this 1968 gem; arguably the first great album in Corea’s mind-boggling discography, it’s a near-perfect blend of lyricism and experimentation, simultaneously honoring and stretching the jazz tradition of the time. Teaming up with bassist Miroslav Vitous (later of Weather Report) and legendary drummer Roy Haynes, Corea weaves seamlessly through classic early compositions (“Matrix”, “Windows”), standards (Thelonious Monk’s “Pannonica”, “My One and Only Love”) and in-the-moment improvisations (the bulk of the original album and the additional session tracks included here). Laced with snatches of iconic Corea moments to come, this is also a solid, satisfying record in its own right.

Rickie Lee Jones, Buried Treasures. You can argue that Jones was always a jazz singer, even on her folk-inflected debut smash and her cinematic follow-up Pirates. (And hey, if Bob Dylan can sing songs made famous by Frank Sinatra . . .) Reunited with her original producer Russ Titelman and fronting a wonderfully sympathetic instrumental quartet plus horns, Jones lovingly leans into ten classic pre-rock songs, her inimitable voice gently caressing the melodies, her sparky gift for bringing the words and sentiments she sings to life blissfully intact. Hushed and intimate, but with rough edges in all the right places, Buried Treasures lives up to its title – and then some.

Rob Mazurek Exploding Star Orchestra, Lightning Dreamers. The latest from Chicago’s headily progressive jazz label International Anthem. Take trumpeter/composer Mazurek’s programmatic depictions of South American landscapes married to the free-form poetry of Damon Locks; add Gerald Cleaver and Mauricio Takara’s sturdy, hip-hop inflected percussion, Jeff Parker’s liquid post-rock guitar, and the atmospheric keys of Craig Taborn and Angelica Sanchez; then run the whole thing through a mixmaster of electronic treatments. Listen to this music with open ears, and you may come out the other side looking at the world around you with new eyes, too. A celebratory, cathartic experience.

This month’s veteran (cosmic?) rockers:

Jethro Tull, RökFlöte. After his revisionist take on the Bible on last year’s The Zealot Gene, Ian Anderson turns his gimlet eye on the old Norse gods, with 12 new songs that portray that mythology’s pantheon and flesh out present day cultural parallels — all in strict poetic meters, no less! The music is welcoming and nimble, often reminding me of classical or Celtic tunes I can’t quite place; Anderson’s flute work is wickedly sharp and his back-up band (including new guitarist Joe Parrish-James) give each tune plenty of oomph. And while Anderson can’t attack this material with the vocal gusto and range he had in Tull’s heyday, he’s learned how to cannily work with his limitations to pull the listener into each vignette. Reminiscent of the Songs from the Wood/Heavy Horses era of Tull, this will charm long-time fans while holding open possibilities for broader appeal.

Stephen Stills, Live at Berkeley 1971. The latest fuel for my ongoing Crosby Stills Nash & Young fixation. No wonder they called Stills “Captain Many Hands”; two-thirds of this archival set feature the man holding an audience of 3,500 spellbound with just his voice, guitar, piano and banjo (oh, and David Crosby chipping in harmonies on two songs). Which makes the impact of the full band finale even stronger, as a six-piece group plus the Memphis Horns power Stills’ singing to soulful heights (while sounding remarkably proggy in the 7/4 section of the epic “Cherokee”). With impressive tunes spanning a broad spectrum of roots music and superb musicianship throughout, this set offers a valuable chance to hear a now-underrated American master at his best.

The Who with Orchestra, Live at Wembley. In 2019, I attended the first concert of Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend’s foray into playing with a full-blown orchestra; recorded six months afterwards, this double set is now released in advance of The Who taking their symphonic show across Britain this summer. The bugs of that opening night had definitely been ironed out by the time they got to London; the orchestral backing on their “greatest hits plus a couple new tunes” set hits hard consistently, reaching majestic heights on the extended suite from Quadrophenia. And if Daltrey and Townshend’s voices are showing their age at long last, their gutsy commitment to the material triumphs over any moments that reveal the wear and tear. Still, the highlight of the show for me remains the duo’s acoustic duet on the evergreen “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, with Townshend supplying an introduction that pokes holes in any lingering political pretensions: “You provide the [expletive deleted] activism; we’ll provide the soundtrack.”

Box Set of the Month:

Blackfield, An Accident of Stars – 2004-2017. Customer service alerts first: the “limited one-time pressing” of this CD-based set, collecting Steven Wilson and Aviv Geffen’s first five albums under the Blackfield banner plus live audio and video is already sold out, though Amazon and indie stores like Michigan’s Dearborn Music are listing stray copies as available. Oh, and there’s a technical glitch with the included BluRay, which won’t play in American and Asian players. (Though purchasers can get a free replacement BluRay via press@snappermusic.co.uk) All that aside, Blackfield made a whole bunch of gorgeously doomy art pop in those 13 years, with Wilson and Geffen’s vocals adding salty, sour, spicy notes to their melancholy, string-laden soundscapes. While the debut Blackfield album is still my favorite, albums II and V really aren’t that far behind in quality – and there’s good stuff to be found on the lesser albums as well (all available individually through Burning Shed or Bandcamp). So if this piques your curiosity, go for selected highlights – or the complete set! (But be forewarned — KScope has announced a similarly limited box of early Pineapple Thief albums for June release, and a set of Wilson’s No-Man albums with Tim Bowness is rumored to be in the works. So start saving your shekels now . . .)

–Rick Krueger

InteReview: Light’s “The Path”

Light, The Path, January 8, 2023
Tracks: Seekness (14:15), Cornua (1:31), The Sweet Release Of Death (5:04), Blue Sun (8:38), Tibia (1:19), Betray (3:13), Newts (6:44), Electris (1:40), The Sublimation Of An Oak (4:13), Tympana (1:23), Dive (13:57), Chalemia (1:47), Mesmerize (3:12), Burning Birds (7:12), Lux Æterna (3:24)

Light is the brainchild of Toulouse, France, based artist Camille De Carvalho, who wrote The Path together with Auriann Rossard, Loup Vaillant, and Paul-Henry Touzac. Carvalho plays an astounding number of instruments on the record, from keyboards to clarinet to duduk and everything in between. She’s joined by a talented cast of other musicians providing additional orchestral work as well as guitar, bass, drums, and vocals. The record is a unique blend of prog, jazz, and classical, leaning most heavily on the symphonic with a distinctly modern flair.

“Blue Sun” perhaps best exemplifies what Light does best. The symphonic overtones dominate, but the overall sound gradually builds adding in the rock elements as it crescendos in a King Crimson-esque wall of controlled chaos. The vocals come in after the midway point, adding further depth to the sound. As the record moves along, the vocals increase, typically in a more classical form than the lead vocals to which rock listeners might be accustomed.

The album’s mix is very lush, with the varied instruments all sounding clear in the mix. There’s a lot of depth to the overall sound as well, making it a very immersive experience.

The Path is an album that will stretch the typical prog fan’s ears, but there is much to enjoy in this album.

Progarchy got the chance to interview Light mastermind Camille about her recent release and what it took to make this project a reality.

You released an album in January 2023 entitled “The Path” How do you feel about the release? 

I’m very excited ! I’ve been working on this for 14 years, almost half of my life !

I’ve spent so much time and money in it, it’s really strange to see it done. I thought (and many of my friends too) that I’d never finish it, that I’d always find something to change, to add, to tweak… Having now the CD in my hands feels unreal.

How much of a challenge was it to work on the album?

It was the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. Basically, I wanted to write for orchestra, but I had no orchestra and the ones I contacted were not interested.

I had to learn to play around 100 instruments, spend all my evenings playing, writing, practicing or reading books about how to write for all of these instruments.

And then when I met the first persons interested by the project, I had to manage the recordings, the rehearsals, the writing of the lyrics, the communication…

It was really a lot, but I stayed determined.

Speaking of challenges, did you set any in the early phase of what has become the final result?

Yes, at the very beginning, the challenge was to record an album featuring only keyboards (then I heared White Noise 2, hated it, and decided it was a bad idea)

Also, every piece I wrote was challenging : there’s always a point where I tell myself «and what if, instead, I did this ?» and it’s always some horrible over complicated polyrythm, or scale… the piano part of Dive, for example, is really a nightmare to play. I wrote it in 2010, and managed to play it in 2020, after years of working on my fingers independance and stamina

Tell us about the different instrumental aspects that you explore on these new songs.

I tried to mix a lot of genres, mainly prog rock but also jazz, classical and a little bit of metal. But the main way I see my music is that I want to write impossible things.

Apart from the interludes and maybe one or two simple tracks, all are impossible to play live as is : it can be because of the polyrythms (particularly the infamour 107:100:93 in Blue Sun, or the 48:47 in The Sublimation of an Oak), the time signatures (I used some things like 61/32 and 47/16), or the instruments’ balance : as every instrument is recorded separately, I can make the ocarina sound louder than the trombone for example, and it’d be impossible in real life. I wanted to push the complexity as far as I could, but keep “listenable” by anyone. I don’t want my music to be seen as really harcore to listen to, even though I love some pretty hardcore bands. I want people to groove, in a way, when they listen to it. To think it’s strange, but in a good way.

I love math, and used a lot of formulas or concepts to create a starting point for the tracks. I don’t let math do all the work, because I didn’t like the results obtained by the people who tried it; I only use it as a basis and it’s often a challenge to adapt to what it has created, because it doesn’t follow musical logic. I drew explanation for the things I used and put it in the booklet, you can try to decypher it and find how it has helped me.

Also, all the interludes are inspired from plain chant, a singing technique used by monks in medieval times. I love it ! And it’s so rarely used

What is your opinion about the current progressive rock scene? 

I must confess I don’t listen to enough new bands, there are so much things to discover in the past I tend to forget the present ! But still, Auriann, the drummer of the band, is constantly searching for new music and dragging me to shows so I know some, like Ni, PoiL, Piniol, Pryapisme, Sungazer, Haken, Myrath… I think prog rock never died and will never die, and now with modern techniques and instruments, we can push the music further than ever. You have to search for them, but there are really good bands currently.

Let us know about your influences—the artists that in a way shaped and continue to shape the your music.

Haha it’s hard to answer without being boring so I’ll limit myself, but I have to categorize : 

In classical music, I’m really fan of the beginning of the 20th Century : Ravel is my first love, Holst the reason why I’m not single anymore, and Lili Boulanger my current obsession.

For rock, my 2 main and most obvious inspirations are Magma and Frank Zappa, and I’m a huge fan of Gentle Giant, King Crimson and all the 70’s era.

For jazz, I’d say that Coltrane, John Zorn, Andy Emler and Louis Amrstong shaped my tastes, even if their influence isn’t as prevalent as Zappa’s or Holst’s in this album

What are your top 5 records of all time?

Hard question, I think it is for everyone. I think the best way to answer it is with rare unknown albums, as they’re better to help understanding the tastes of someone. So yes, I could say Relayer by Yes, or Kid A by Radiohead and sure, they’re great, but it’s also obvious that I love them.

Here is my pick : 

1 – “Everywhere At The End of Time”, by The Caretaker : my biggest musical shock, an album about dementia ; you can’t stay the same after you’ve listened to this madness

2 – “Trout Mask Replica”, by Captain Beefheart : well known, but I had to. A lesson in what is freedom, and music. Try again if you hate it : you’ll get it (eventually)

3 – “8”, by Supersilent : it’s an improvisation band, without any planning or concertation. First time I listened to this, I was at work : the walls and roof disappeared and I suddenly was in a cold storm, completely lost. My tasks did not progress after that

4 – “Rire, c’est pas sérieux”, by Raoul Petite : I love Zappa but as english is not my main language, I don’t always understand the lyrics. Well if you love Zappa but speak french primarily, there’s Raoul Petite for you

5 – “Circus”, by Circus : this album taught me something very important : to shut up. Sometimes, there are unexpected silences in their music, and it creates a very peculiar atmosphere that can be mimicked by nothing else. I can’t say I used it in my album, at all, but I will probably in the future

Besides the release of “The Path” are there any other plans for the future?

I’ve already started to write the concept of the next album, which will be greatly inspired by the life of Lili Boulanger (and her music).

Also, a music video will be released with the album, and I have a few covers I still have to finish recording, as they were rewards of the Kickstarter campaign. I’m currently working on Shine On You Crazy Diamond, it’s nearly finished ; it’ll contain no guitar, no bass and no drums… you will see!


Check out Light and The Path on Bandcamp: https://lightprogrock.bandcamp.com/album/the-path

Rick’s Quick Takes for February

Transatlantic’s The Final Flight: Live at L’Olympia is a worthy souvenir of the latest — and last? — tour by our favorite “more never is enough” classic-prog supergroup. Over three hours, Neal Morse, Roine Stolt, Pete Trewavas, Mike Portnoy and sidekick Ted Leonard play every possible note of their ultra-epic The Absolute Universe, plus generous chunks of the band’s first three albums (sorry, Kaleidoscope fans). You might notice some rough edges in Morse’s singing despite a few preemptive downward key shifts, but Transatlantic still delivers the goods without fail — the jaw-dropping ensemble work, knockout solos, choral counterpoint, head-spinning transitions and heart-stopping climaxes just keep coming. And if this is their swan song, thanks for 20+ years of over-the-top thrills and spills are well past due!

Rick Wakeman’s latest album, A Gallery of the Imagination, is less a conceptual effort (like The Six Wives of Henry VIII or even the recent The Red Planet) than an impressionist suite based on a overall musical approach (as on his Piano Portraits releases). As such, Wakeman’s strong suit — spacious melodies decorated with arpeggios aplenty, then rocked up via finger-busting solo work — is here in abundance, with appropriately sturdy backing by The English Rock Ensemble. But be prepared — the line between prog and middle-of-the-road pop is remarkably thin at times, especially when sentimental lyrics like “A Day Spent on the Pier” are declaimed with stagey brio by vocalist Hayley Sanderson. If you can deal with that, there’s plenty to enjoy here.

Simon Collins and Kelly Nordstrom (best known in the prog world for the Sound of Contact album Dimensionaut with Dave Kerzner and Matt Dorsey) veer in a heavier direction with their new project, eMolecule’s The Architect. The initial blasts of electronica-laced prog-metal, amped up with gusto by Nordstrom, slot in beautifully with the dystopian sci-fi narrative, but it takes a while for Collins’ trademark vocal inflections to peek through the robotic audio processing. Ultimately, the light and shade of “Beyond Belief” and “Awaken” (a ballad in the Phil-to-Simon family tradition) and a building sense of Floydian atmospherics provide the contrast needed for eMolecule’s well-executed sound and fury to fully connect.

I stumbled across the British post-rockers Plank via 2014’s excellent Hivemind. After tackling animals and insects as their previous subjects, the trio widen their horizons here, returning after 9 years for their new concept opus The Future of the Sea. This is a stunning set of limpid, gorgeous instrumentals, weaving elements of psychedelia, prog and math-rock into textures of massive breadth and heft (whether the big guns are being held in reserve or out on parade at any given moment). The closing 6-part suite “Breaking Waves” is a full-on, monolithic delight that mounts to a shattering, satisfying climax. Give this one a try!

The ongoing passing of rock legends tends to direct me toward their most recent releases, especially if I’d dismissed them on initial notice. Thus, when David Crosby died in January, I bit the bullet and picked up his Lighthouse Band’s CD/DVD Live at the Capitol Theatre. Ignoring this beauty, released late last year, was a mistake; it’s a thoroughly enjoyable, even moving document of Crosby’s late career renaissance, here shown in collaboration with Snarky Puppy bassist Michael League and singer/songwriters Becca Stevens and Michelle Willis. Yes, the man’s voice is a shadow of its former self here — but so is his legendary ego; this lovely set may be more of a team effort than Crosby, Stills and Nash (& Young) ever was. The jazz-inflected songwriting, the hushed vocal blend, the lovely sense of understatement and space all make this delicate music blossom and take root in the heart. This tour came to West Michigan on Thanksgiving weekend of 2018; hearing this set, I’m sorry I missed the show! Yes, it’s that good.

I wish I could say the same about 18, the collaboration with Johnny Depp that turned out to be guitar legend Jeff Beck’s swan song; even putting aside Depp’s recent notoriety, there’s a mismatch of tone that makes the album a puzzling listen. Though Beck’s rich melodicism is as compelling as ever, his soaring aesthetic keeps bouncing off the consistently lugubrious song selection and morose vocals from Depp. Usually I’d be all over an album that ricochets from Motown and the Everly Brothers to Killing Joke and The Velvet Underground, but the eclectic selection simply refuses to cohere. Some glorious moments (instrumental takes on the Beach Boys’ “Don’t Talk” and “Caroline, No”, the John Lennon cover “Isolation” that closes the album on a solid footing), but Beck’s light and Depp’s dark cancel each other out far too often for the music to take wing.

In the meantime, the past month has seen multiple first-rate releases in the jazz (and jazz-related) world:

From out of left field, Lake Street Dive singer Rachael Price teams with guitarist/songwriter Vilray Blair Bolles for I Love A Love Song! This second duo effort pairs Price’s well-honed jazz and pop sensibilities with whimsical Vilray originals in the Great American Songbook tradition. Well-upholstered arrangements from a finely tuned large combo and a boxy yet lush recorded sound set up the retro feel; but ultimately it’s Price’s subtle, in-the-pocket sense of swing that sells the music, often breezy and melancholy at the same time.

Piano legend Brad Mehldau has never hesitated to incorporate rock songs into the jazz canon; with Your Mother Should Know, he makes a program of Beatles tunes (plus David Bowie’s “Life on Mars” — it originally featured Rick Wakeman on piano!) sound not just obvious, but inevitable in the idiom. Above all, this is fun, albeit often of a serious stripe; from the headlong boogie woogie of “I Saw Her Standing There” through the thickened harmonies of “I Am the Walrus” and hovering balladry of “Here There and Everywhere” to the stretched-out gospel of “Baby’s in Black” and the ecstatic extended solo of “Golden Slumbers”, Mehldau’s instincts for where to take these songs by Lennon, McCartney and Harrison are unerring, his invention refreshing and often astonishing, his technique impeccable. Absolutely worth a listen, whether you’re a Fabs fan or not.

Are improvisational Australian trio The Necks “jazz”? Hard to say; but while their music resists categorization (or even description), their latest release Travel is as attractive a summation of what they do as anything. Four pieces of music, each one made from scratch at the start of a day in the studio, building from a minimal idea that gains momentum, complexity and impact through repetition and variation of ideas, dynamics and sounds. “Signal” rambles, “Forming” smolders, “Imprinting” shimmers and “Bloodstream” flares up for a riveting double-album journey. Is it world-inflected rock? Ambient jazz? Something else? I frankly don’t care; I just know that after an online listen, I had to buy it. (And kudos to Vertigo Music of Grand Rapids for having it in stock!)

P.S. In the “blast from the past” department, I’ve spent a surprising amount of time reveling in the swagger of Cheap Trick’s Dream Police, a widescreen slab of power-pop brilliance from 1979. And sticking my toe in the deep waters of Guided by Voices last month led me to their slam-bang “best of” compilation from 2003, Human Amusements at Hourly Rates. Both highly recommended if you wanna rock!

— Rick Krueger

Album Review – The Aaron Clift Experiment – “The Age of Misinformation”

The Aaron Clift Experiment, The Age of Misinformation, 2023
Tracks: The Age of Misinformation (4:57), L.I.A.R. (5:14), Bet on Zero (10:43), Dark Secrets (3:35), Rise (5:55), The Color of Flight (5:45), Málaga (4:49), Weight of the World (5:47)
Players: Aaron Clift (vocals and keyboards), Anthony Basini (guitar), Clif Warren (bass), Pablo Ranlett-López (drums and percussion)

The Aaron Clift Experiment has gradually built themselves a solid following and growing respect in the prog world since their debut in 2012. The Austin-Texas proggers now have four studio albums and two live EPs under their belt.

On The Age of Misinformation, there are some glimpses of Steven Wilson/Porcupine Tree, 80s Rush, and Southern Empire. There are a variety of styles on the album, from heavy protest rock (“The Age of Misinformation”) to jazz fusion-ey rock (“Bet on Zero”).

The political nature of the opening track is a little in your face, which jarred me a bit at first, but the album pretty quickly settles down, and the melodies and musicianship promptly overrode my initial misgivings. It also helped to realize this record is more of a response to the overall experience of the last few years, rather than a political screed. I guess I’ve been so shaken by the same sorts of things the band is singing about that I’ve come to be repelled by any mention of it! Ha. But in the end, music is probably the best way to deal with these sorts of emotions. And what better way to do it than with a blend of hard rock, jazz, drum solos, and big band horns?

Oh yeah, did I mention there’s a drum solo on “Bet on Zero”? I can’t remember the last time I heard an extended drum solo on a new studio album. Great to hear. It reminded me a bit of Jethro Tull. In fact, musically the band reminds me a lot of Tull. Not because they necessarily sound just like Tull, but because they have that same approach of “we’ll try anything” to making music. There are lots of sounds used to wonderful effect. And lyrically they aren’t afraid to tackle difficult subjects, a fear Ian Anderson also has never had.

“The Color of Flight” is a quieter track with dense layering. Simple percussion, layered keyboards, violin. It’s a nice break from the heavier rock found on much of the rest of the album. “Málaga” has a strong Porcupine Tree influence, with a steady beat and keyboard atmospherics.

The variety on the record keeps this one interesting throughout. The album is under 50 minutes, but the different sounds and styles takes the listener on an exciting journey. The production value is high on the album, along with a very clear mix. The melodies and vocal lines are backed by intelligently placed guitar lines and backing instrumentation like the horns and violins. The result is very polished, making The Age of Misinformation certainly worth checking out.

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