Category: Progressive rock

Rick’s Quick Takes: The (Belated) September Report

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, art rock, avant-garde, electronic, Insideout Music, Kscope, Progressive rockLeave a comment

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

The Flower Kings, Look At You Now: The Stolt brothers — Michael on bass, Roine on almost everything else — vocalist Hasse Fröberg and drummer Mirko DeMaio crank up that progressive-psychedelic roundabout, and what comes out the chute is yet another spellbinding album-length suite. Snippets from the past and fresh in-studio invention lock together seamlessly; from the merry-go-round kickoff “Beginners Eyes” and the Beatleish “Hollow Men” through renaissance pastoral “The Queen” and blues-edged workout “Scars”, to the closing workout (cinema showoff vamp “Father Sky” into bolero build “Day for Peace” into the closing title epic), TFK don’t miss a trick, evoking vintage Yes and Genesis while always leaning into their own unique, up-to-the-minute spin. This is easily the equal of recent double-disc standouts 2020’s Waiting for America and last year’s By Royal Decree, on track to be one of my favorites at the end of the year. Order from Burning Shed here.

Steve Hackett, Foxtrot at Fifty + Hackett Highlights – Live in Brighton: Yep, this is Hackett’s eighth live album since he made “Genesis Revisited” a regular feature of his live set and rejuvenated his international touring career. But doggone it if he doesn’t make this latest set make worth our while yet again! Leading off with a refreshed solo repertoire (blending in vintage throwbacks “A Tower Struck Down” and “Camino Royale”) that provides new showcases for his talented band (Rob Townsend and Roger King’s wind/keys duet on “Ace of Wands”, Jonas Reingold’s fleet-fingered solo spot “Basic Instincts”), Hackett proceeds to blow out Brighton’s doors with an inspired romp through Genesis’ 1972 breakout album. Especially noteworthy: singer Nad Sylvan, at his personal best on “The Devil’s Cathedral”, “Watcher of the Skies” and a taut, compelling “Supper’s Ready” — well, really all through the night. I thought I might have actually seen Hackett enough (four times!) in the last decade, but this release has me eager to catch this show when he returns to the States next spring. Order from Burning Shed here.

Bruce Soord, Luminescence: Just a songwriter and his gear (plus the occasional electronica and orchestral seasonings); on break from The Pineapple Thief, Soord descends into the postmodern maelstrom, in search of an evasive inner tranquility. A placid, brooding first half of string swells (“Dear Life”), slinky acoustic funk (“Lie Flat”) and pensive melodic sketches (“So Simple”) gathers momentum, only to hit a stalled-out sense of desolation (“Instant Flash of Light”, “Stranded Here”) — which gives Soord’s concluding pleas for human connection (“Read to Me” and “Find Peace”) a vulnerability that chills to the bone, even as it cracks open all the feels. Spacious, shimmering and seductive (kudos to Soord and mastering engineer/TPT bandmate Steve Kitch), Luminescence’s stoic gaze into the heart of darkness packs a serious emotional depth charge. Order from Burning Shed here.

The Who, Who’s Next / Life House (Super Deluxe Edition): Who’s Next is an album that changed my life, and over the decades, it’s developed a reputation as one of rock’s finest moments. But Pete Townshend remains haunted by his original, unrealized post-Tommy concept of The Life House — a gathering place for the outcasts of a nightmarish virtual reality, with rock music as the saving sacrament of a splintered counterculture. Thus, this behemoth box: two discs of impeccable Townshend demos; three discs of session outtakes and singles; two complete, ferocious live sets; and an immaculate spatial audio remix of the final product by (of course) Steven Wilson. Even with exhaustive liner notes and a graphic novel version included, the Life House storyline simply refuses to cohere. But listening to The Who as they wrestle with the throughline, then pitch it away and just slam into “Baba O’Riley”, “Behind Blue Eyes” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, you hear the fragments of one man’s overweening ambition transmuted into a furious, majestic rush of sheer hard rock glory. Order from The Who online store.

Wilco, Cousin: 2022’s Cruel Country (my top favorite album of last year) interrupted Wilco’s work on this excursion back into art-pop, made with Welsh multi-instrumentalist/co-producer Cate Le Bon as sidekick. Here Jeff Tweedy’s elusive, folky reflections are splattered with spectral atmospherics and thick blobs of tonal texture; workouts like technicolor opener “Infinite Surprise”, the sunnily chaotic title track and the Wild West gallop of “Meant to Be” sit side by side with morose elegy “Ten Dead”, baroque/dance crosscut “A Bowl And A Pudding” and the compelling meander “Pittsburgh”. The proceedings here lean a bit to the downtempo side, but it’s great to hear Tweedy and his merry crew of cutting-edge players revisit the experimental approach of their Yankee Hotel Foxtrot/A Ghost Is Born era, with the gains of the decades since then thoroughly integrated. Few American bands offer such solid work on such a consistent basis. Order from Wilco’s online store.

Steven Wilson, The Harmony Codex: On which Wilson decides not to pay homage to one particular musical style, bringing his magpie/studio boffin tendencies fully to the fore. Digging into the resources of vintage synthesizers, SW leans on mood more than movement, warming up the temperature from the glacial electronics of The Future Bites a bit, spinning trippy webs of sound braced with a percussive snap. As he flicks through a dizzying array of genres, there are plenty of hypnotic moments (the 1970s spiritual jazz/fusion of “Inclination” and “Invisible Tightrope”, pop nugget “What Life Brings”, imaginary Bond theme “Rock Bottom” with Ninet Tayeb, the langorous switched-on Bach/spoken-word melodrama of the title track), but it can also feel like Wilson is channel-surfing for its own sake; the focus of his best work is only intermittently there, and shorter tracks sometimes peter out instead of paying off. Still, as far and wide as The Harmony Codex wanders, there’s lots to catch the ear as it rambles, and it’s already rewarded repeated listens for me; Wilson remains an artist well worth checking out and reacting to. (So, yeah, Time Lord and I have very different opinions here. And, in line with de gustibus non est disputantum, I’m down with that.) Order from Burning Shed here. (BTW, thanks to the Burning Shed crew & the Royal Mail for getting my copy across the pond to my mailbox in 6 days!)

— Rick Krueger

Album Review: Steven Wilson, The Harmony Codex

On By Time LordIn Progressive rock4 Comments

With the release of The Harmony Codex, it’s now official. Steven Wilson is a member of The Academy of the Overrated.

I’m not talking about him as technician. He is indisputably a technical wizard who can create amazing sonic experiences. Beyond his own work, he is well known as someone who remixes classic albums and creates the best audio soundscapes.

But as a musician and songwriter he is vastly overrated. Sure, he’s a great instrumentalist, just as he is a great technician and arranger. But after releasing two stinkers in a row—The Harmony Codex and The Future Bites—we must admit that his only two works of genius—The Raven That Refused to Sing and Hand Cannot Erase—are total outliers.

Everything else he has done, whether solo or in a group, has always struck me as abominably overrated. There’s something lacking in the vast majority of his work. Set aside his only two brilliant albums and his work as an audio consultant. Everything else is just pretty good, but yet consistently soulless and pretentious.

How then could he produce two brilliant albums? Well, a stopped clock can be correct twice a day. But a better analogy for Wilson would be a perpetual motion machine that finds a true groove only twice in its lifetime of operation.

His soullessness and pretentiousness is magnified to intolerable degrees on The Harmony Codex and The Future Bites. The latter album was pretty bad, but The Harmony Codex is even worse. Take the spoken word nonsense on the title track, which then reappears on “Staircase.” It’s devoid of any meaning except pretension. Hey Steven, actual brutal fact: you alone dreamt up this album, and really it’s boringly bad.

It’s hilarious to me how many people in their reviews give this new album the benefit of the doubt and profess faith in how much better it will sound after more listens. Hey people, that tactic didn’t pan out with The Future Bites, and it’s sure not gonna happen with this one.

There are no songs here. The only moments of promise are the “love it all” catharsis in “What Life Brings,” and the one minute of awesome bass playing around the half-way mark of “Staircase” (but that killer bass work only lasts for a single minute; instead of wisely building on it to an album crescendo, Wilson blows it and decides to end the disc with repetition of the sophomoric doggerel from “The Harmony Codex”).

The diminishing reappearance of Ninet Tayeb on this album also demonstrates that Wilson is secretly operating according to an invisible template. Despite his desire to be original, he just keeps on being an unoriginal version of Steven Wilson. (Even his trademark falsetto is getting old.)

But if he were to do another homage to classic prog, like Raven it would paradoxically become original (because paradoxically it takes real skill to pay truly noble tribute to one’s betters). Instead he gets stuck on dumb ideas for the sake of originality: “Guitars are boring. Let’s do everything with synths instead.”

The failed attempt here at a real prog instrumental (“Impossible Tightrope”) goes nowhere, despite Wilson’s attempt to walk the tightrope of pleasing his prog fans (but nonetheless finding that task impossible). This illustrates what is perhaps most galling: the fact that Wilson consistently self-sabotages his best self. Instead of working within a recognizable idiom, he tries too hard to be original. But face the music: Wilson hasn’t reinvented music; he has just ended up being soulless and pretentious again.

The actual brutal fact (I repeat the phrase, so that we now get to the plurality alluded to by the “Actual Brutal Facts” track) is this: The Harmony Codex is garbage that nobody will be listening to fifty years from now—unlike the masterpieces that Wilson regularly remixes, and that he has failed to learn from.

Sure, The Harmony Codex sounds really nice. And Wilson is a master of marketing and promotion. But there is no songwriting here, other than “What Life Brings,” which feels like Wilson included it for perverse reasons: i.e., to show he could write songs like he did on Hand Cannot Erase if he wanted to, but he has decided not to. But like the three pretentious periods gratuitously inserted into that album’s official title, Wilson sabotages his own creative potential.

The Harmony Codex is just an exemplary audio demo record: i.e., what the sales dude at the stereo store puts on to demonstrate how good this stereo and speakers sound. But don’t savvy shoppers bring their own disc to play anyway? Because the cool demo record is something completely different from your favorite album. The former demo makes a good audio impression, but the latter classic disc is what you are actually buying the stereo for: i.e., what achieves its true purpose, beyond the superficial wow-factor of novel synth sounds.

What if Wilson actually tried to make an album that sounded unmistakably inspired by Yes or King Crimson, but crafted and adorned with state-of-the-art 21st century audio tricks? It would be Nirvana.

Instead, we now have two shitty albums in a row. They do nothing but highlight the fact that alleged prog emperor Steven Wilson has nothing going on beneath all the vapid talk about how wonderful is his kingdom of sounds. What a waste.

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part 3

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, blues, country, folk music, jazz, jazz rock, Neal Morse, Pink Floyd, Progressive rock, punk rock, thrash metal, vernacular music1 Comment

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” →

Molybaron’s Ominous Masterpiece

On By Bryan MoreyIn Heavy metal, progressive metal, Progressive rock1 Comment

Molybaron, Something Ominous, Inside Out Music, September 15, 2023
Tracks: Something Ominous (4:05), Set Alight (3:25), Billion Dollar Shakedown (3:38), Breakdown (3:16), Anyway (4:14), Daylight Dies in Darkness (4:06), Dead On Arrival (3:21), Pendulum (3:34), Reality Show (4:17), Vampires (3:45)
Players: Gary Kelly (vocals/guitar), Sebastian De Saint Angel (bass), Camille Greneron (drums), Florian Soum (lead guitar)

Molybaron have become one of the most intriguing bands in prog metal over the last few years. Formed in Paris in 2015, the band is led by Dublin-based vocalist, guitarist, lyricist, and composer Gary Kelly. With a voice and vocal styling that stands apart from most others in the genre, Kelly shines on this record with his playful and aggressive performance.

Something Ominous is remarkably fresh and engaging. It’s heavy, gritty, riffy, and catchy. I loved 2021’s The Mutiny, but some of the lyrics were very political, something I’ve complained about regarding other artists in the past. Beyond the politics, Kelly’s lyrics incorporate a lot of cultural critique. Even if I may have disagreed with some (certainly not all) of his points, I found the music and his performance too good to keep me away. Something Ominous is a major step forward lyrically. The politics is still there, but it’s more of a critique about how everything sucks and how the powers that be are turning us (the people) against each other. There’s also some open and raw emotional moments, like on “Breakdown,” which looks at the struggles of emotional and mental health.

There were multiple points on the album that reminded me strongly of Muse, if Muse played heavier rock and metal (they came close on “Won’t Stand Down” off last year’s We The People). I could probably come up with other comparisons, but that might water down how unique Molybaron are. No one else sounds quite like them. Their overall sound is punctuated by a loud and driving bass and layers of guitars playing both crunchy and soaring tones. But, again, it’s Gary Kelly’s performance that truly sets the band apart. His voice is unlike any other singer I can think of, and he mixes up the way he sings on different tracks and sometimes multiple times in a single song. It keeps the album trotting along at an enjoyable pace, and at points it brings a smile of sheer musical joy to my face.

“Billion Dollar Shakedown” is scathing in its critique of the elites running/ruining society, and Kelly’s vocal acrobatics make this an absolute blast to blast. There’s a slight hip hop influence to the singing on the verses, but you can understand the lyrics just fine. The chorus is sung in a very fun up and down way that is angry yet playful at the same time. The guitar solo towards the end is heavy metal heaven (or hell).

The narrator on the verses on “Billion Dollar Shakedown” takes on the part of the ones in charge, and it’s done with a healthy dose of sarcasm. I particularly appreciate what I think is a critique of years of pointless Covid lockdowns that didn’t save anybody, as well as other more general nonsense in modern society:

Shut your eyes shut your eyes, forget what you see
Control the narrative, bury the lead
Gaslit, triggered, terrified
You’re a danger to your neighbor get the f*** back inside.

Shoot em down shoot em down, resist temptation
You’re next in line for some cancellation
Big Tech, laws, manufactured consent
Professional suicide for those who dissent!

Kelly writes about his lyrics overall,

In general, a lot of my lyrics tend to focus on mental health, drug and alcohol abuse, but I also write about political corruption, collusion between state and corporate media, big Pharma, big tech and systematic censorship. This new album explores aging and the acute awareness of time passing by the anticipation of losing the ones you love, lingering regrets about precious time spent on unimportant things, the fear of being old and alone.

“Breakdown” looks at mental breakdowns and how overwhelming they can be. The song opens with some simple piano chords before quickly pounding into a bombastic shout of, “Cuz it’s another f***ing breakdown!”

Maybe tomorrow I’ll find happiness
An antidote for this emptiness
Carry the weight of tomorrow’s fears
Deep inside my belly all these years

Lying here staring at the sky above
From the bottom of the hole I’ve dug
Another day of solitude
Alone, alone

Cuz it’s another f***ing breakdown
Breakdown

I’m losing everything
I’m losing everything

Doc tells me I’ll feel better if I learn to take a breath
But the lunatic inside my chest, has a grip as cold as death
Maybe one day I will be alright
Or maybe it was all just a waste of time

It’s a refreshingly honest and deeply personal take on these issues. Having artists be open about this can help with reduce the stigma, especially for men.

“Daylight Dies in Darkness” shows off a more contemplative side of Molybaron. It starts with quiet electric guitar strumming followed by heartfelt vocals from Kelly that soon take on a sense of desperation: “Father I’ve come – do you remember I’m your son?” The song slowly swells until it takes on a heavy brooding metal riff and guitar solo in the last quarter. It’s a ballad of sorts, but not in any kind of sappy romantic way. It’s a ballad of melancholy, and it shows Molybaron excels with emotional songs as well as they do with bombastic metal.

Every song on this short (38 minutes) album is worth playing on repeat. The tracks I’ve highlighted are the ones that have jumped out at me in the early days of playing the record on repeat, but the others are just as good in their own ways. I haven’t enjoyed a new album as much as this one in a while. Molybaron may not be your typical prog metal band – if anything they could be considered accessible. Yet their music and themes remain complex, even if packaged in 3-4 minute tracks. Something Ominous is a must listen, and it’ll find its way near the top of my year-end best-of list.

Album is out September 15: https://molybaron.lnk.to/SomethingOminous

https://molybaron.com

The Best Prog Bands You’ve Never Heard Of (Part Thirty-Six): Fireballet

On By Connor MullinIn Progressive rockLeave a comment

Progressive rock + Mussorgsky = symphonic prog epic. That equation has appeared to work out well at least twice in prog rock history. Like Emerson, Lake, and Palmer before them, Fireballet, an American band inspired by their talented cousins across the pond, gifted to the music world a progressive spin on one of the Russian master’s classic compositions. But there’s more here than Mussorgsky! So, without further ado, here’s my brief take on each of the songs:

“Les Cathedrales”, a ten-minute piece reminiscent of a medieval fairy tale (thanks in part to some spoken word lyrics), opens with a beautiful symphonic flourish of keys and synth (courtesy of Brian Hough and Frank Petto). There is a clear Genesis/Happy the Man vibe throughout the song, but also a fun twist: Ian McDonald (who also produced the album), makes a brief guest appearance on saxophone.

The next two pieces – “Centurion” and “The Fireballet” – feature more superb work by the two keyboardists and from guitarist Ryche Chlanda. Despite their shorter lengths, both songs manage to fit complex melodies and fun counterpoint into (relatively) smaller packages.

“Atmospheres” is the shortest and gentlest piece on the album, reminiscent of the soft opening to Genesis’s “The Musical Box.” It is a welcome break from some of the more frenetic moments of the previous three songs.

The title track nearly lives up to its grand namesake. Opening with the same melody as Mussorgsky’s masterpiece, the band then add some interesting percussive and synth touches for a more progressive spin on the original. Furthermore, this version of the classic piece includes vocals, and lead singer Jim Cuomo is at his best here, ranging from a soft Jon Anderson to a screaming David Byron or even Ian Gillan. Each musician shines on this one, however, and overall it is a solid tribute to one of “The Five.”

One would like to believe an album produced by Ian McDonald with an epic title track would certainly be destined for success. But, alas, it was not to be. Fireballet may not be as renowned as Modest Mussorgsky, but Night on Bald Mountain would certainly be a worthy addition to any prog lover’s collection.

Steven Wilson, The Harmony Codex

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, art rock, Atmospheric rock, Progressive rockLeave a comment

Now available to preorder from Burning Shed on CD, Blu-Ray, black or orange LP, cassette and 2 CD/Blu-Ray box set:

The Harmony Codex – the seventh album by Steven Wilson – is a genre-spanning collection that represents the apotheosis of a life spent fully absorbed in music.

While The Harmony Codex nods to records from Steven Wilson’s recent past, at times echoing the paranoid rumble of 2008’s Insurgentes, the crystalline electronics of 2021’s The Future Bites and the expansive storytelling of 2013’s The Raven That Refused To Sing (and Other Stories), here he has managed to create something entirely unique, a record that exists outside of the notion of genre. And although The Harmony Codex is a record made with spatial audio in mind, it’s not one that needs an elaborate sound system to lift you out of body – two speakers and an open mind will do just fine.

Released on September 29th. Tracklist:

1. Inclination (7.15) 

2. What Life Brings (3.40)

3. Economies of Scale (4.17)

4. Impossible Tightrope (10.42)

5. Rock Bottom (4.25)

6. Beautiful Scarecrow (5.21)

7. The Harmony Codex (9.50)

8. Time is Running Out (3.57)

9. Actual Brutal Facts (5.05)

10. Staircase (9.26)

Watch the video for the track “Economies of Scale” below:

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part Two

On By kruekuttIn americana, country, folk rock, hard rock, Insideout Music, jazz folk, jazz rock, Neal Morse, Progressive rock, Rock and Roll, vernacular musicLeave a comment

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.

First off, the triple-disc elephant in the room: the Neal Morse Band’s An Evening of Innocence & Danger: Live in Hamburg. Morse, Eric Gillette, Bill Hubauer, Randy George and Mike Portnoy deliver exactly what the title says, plowing through the NMB’s most recent conceptual opus with the added excitement of rougher vocal edges and elongated opportunities for face-melting solos. Welcome deep cuts at the end of each set plus the heady mashup encore “The Great Similitude” heat things up nicely. The band’s delight in being back in front of a transatlantic audience comes through with (sorry not sorry) flying colors. Order from Radiant Records here.

Motorpsycho, on the other hand, cools things down on their new, palindromically titled Yay! This time around, Bent Sæther, Magnus “Snah” Ryan and Tomas Järmyr back off the booming drones, steering into light acoustic textures and Laurel Canyon vocal harmonies for a fresh, intimate variation on their spiraling neopsychedelia. Even with titles like “Cold & Bored” and “Dank State (Jan ’21)”, the results are inviting and exhilarating. (And don’t worry — the band’s penchant for the long jam is alive and well on more expansive tracks like “Hotel Daedelus” and closer “The Rapture”) My favorite from this crew since 2017’s The Tower.

And, seconding Russell Clarke, I heartily recommend I Am the Manic Whale’s Bumper Book of Mystery Stories. Dialing down the snark of previous albums and turning up the atmospherics, it’s a thematically linked suite of veddy veddy British melodic prog vignettes engineered to thrill and disturb. Michael Whiteman and his jolly compatriots seem absolutely delighted to creep you out on “Ghost Train”, send your head spinning on “Erno’s Magic Cube”, and drag you into headlong adventure on land (“Secret Passage”), sea (“Nautilus”) and outer space (“We Interrupt This Broadcast . . .”). I felt like a kid again!

Meanwhile, Greta Van Fleet come slamming back with Starcatcher. With the polished studio sound of 2021’s The Battle of Garden’s Gate well and truly ditched, Frankenmuth, Michigan’s finest get down and dirty here, launching one ferocious rocker after another and mounting a stairway to . . . somewhere? on the trippy single “Meeting the Master.” Yeah, GVF still wear their influences on their capacious sleeves, and sometimes feel a bit inside the box for all the Kiszka brothers’ ecstatic caterwauling. But getting the Led out to Generation Z still strikes me as a worthwhile mission, and to see these young’uns keep the flame alight is all an aging rocker could ask for. Order from GVF’s webstore here.

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

Album Review: Moon Letters’ “Thank You From The Future”

On By Bryan MoreyIn Progressive rock1 Comment

Moon Letters, Thank You From The Future, 2022
Tracks: Sudden Sun (4:19), The Hrossa (6:19), Mother River (4:32), Isolation and Foreboding (6:34), Child of Tomorrow (5:27), Fate of the Alacorn (7:06), Yesterday Is Gone (6:47)
Players: John Allday (keyboards, vocals), Mike Murphy (bass, vocals), Kelly Mynes (drums), Michael Trew (vocals, flute), Dave Webb (guitar)

Moon Letters offer what could be called standard classic progressive rock. It is guitar, drums, and synth heavy, and the vocals are harmonized in a quintessentially late 60s and early 70s fashion. Gentle Giant is certainly an influence, and “Thank You From the Future” definitely has that sense of playfulness in the music and vocal arrangements. I hear elements of the Moody Blues, Genesis, and maybe even a little Procol Harum as well.

One might be surprised to hear that the band hails from Seattle, as the music reminds me more of English classic prog than of American progressive rock. Thank You From the Future is the band’s second album, following up 2019’s Until They Feel the Sun.

The band has a science fiction and fantasy influence. I’m pretty sure the band’s name comes from the moon runes in J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” and “The Hrossa” is a reference to the alien species that live on Mars in C.S. Lewis’ “Out of the Silent Planet.”

Dave Webb’s guitar has a slight Steve Hackett flair to it, especially in the sustained notes. That alone adds a Genesis influence, although Genesis isn’t the first comparison that came to my mind when listening to Moon Letters. But in listening closely to the guitar, Hackett is clearly an influence. Hackett is my favorite guitarist, so that’s a win in my book. The opening to “Yesterday Is Gone” is particularly delightful in its proggy sustained guitar. The sparse guitar notes and licks interspersed between the lyrics throughout the song really elevate the track.

Thank You From The Future is an upbeat entertaining nod to classic prog with modern sensibilities. The album does tend to sound a bit uniform in style, and a little variety would have been nice. But it’s a short album (by today’s prog standards, at least) at 42 minutes, which is a good length for this sort of record. The guitar work is what sets this record apart for me, as I’m sure it will for many of our readers. That’s worth the price of admission by itself.

https://www.moonletters.com
https://moonletters.bandcamp.com/album/thank-you-from-the-future
https://www.facebook.com/MoonLettersBand/

Lee Aaron: Live in White Rock (July 6, 2023)

On By Time LordIn Progressive rock1 Comment

Rock and roll icon Lee Aaron and her crackerjack band played an unusual gig last night in White Rock, British Columbia. Not only was it a free concert played outside by the beach, it was also played for a hometown crowd, since Aaron now resides in the area. She joked to the all-ages crowd that they probably recognized her from shopping at Canadian Tire. 

Aaron’s voice remains as mighty and as impressive as it has always been. The sound mix allowed us to hear her vocal gifts loud and clear, with many nicely timed echo effects for dramatic emphasis. Aaron’s husband John Cody played thundering drums; Dave Reimer played propulsive bass lines and sang soulful backup; and superstar guitarist Sean Kelly flew in from Ontario to wow the crowd with his virtuoso shredding and glam-inflected backup singing, snarling, and pouting.

My sister lives in White Rock and, regular beachgoer that she is, has a paddleboard strapped to the roof of her car. So she easily drove us down the hill from her place, and used her special resident parking savvy to find us a most convenient car spot around the corner from the beach. 

The concert venue was at the west beach, which has a nice little patch of grass overlooking the water and sand, separated from the area only by a fence and train track. That means the concert, which started at the magic hour sunset timing of 8:30pm, was adorned with the beautiful lighting of the open sky and the soothingly expansive ocean vista. Some people watched from boats in the water, others on the grass in front of the stage, and still more looked on from beachfront restaurants or home-front terraces.

I was pleasantly surprised by how excellent the concert was. Aaron played a full arena-sized set of eighteen songs, ninety minutes long, including an encore. The musicianship was impeccable and the concert versions of the songs had remarkably palpable enthusiasm added to them. You could tell the band was comfortable in the setting and having a blast playing the gig.

Aaron’s multiple decades of experience showed that there’s no pro like an old pro. She strutted and danced around the stage, singing her sweet little heart out. Happily interacting with and gazing into the eyes of the fans crowded around the stage, she even dedicated one song to the teenage girls up front jumping up and down all night.

She frequently strapped on a guitar, throwing mighty superhero kicks into the air as she roared around the fretboard. I was continually amazed by how incredible she sounds when playing live. 

Aaron remarked to the crowd that if, that evening, she could inspire just one girl there to write songs and get into rock and roll, then her mission was accomplished. I would be surprised if she failed at this goal, because her show was undeniably exceptional and inspirational. 

I noted that the crowds of young girls coming to dance in front of the stage only increased over the evening, and that they were the first ones to hold up their phone camera flashlights as lighters. This illuminated Aaron’s ballad intimacies, well-timed for after the sunset.

On balance, the concert wasn’t a parade of old hits from the 1980s. Aaron noted to the crowd that she has released six new albums since 2016. (That impressive half-dozen includes a Christmas album, as well as a superb live disc from Germany on both a CD and a DVD, which I would highly recommend if you read this review and wish you could see a show. The recorded evidence backs up my assertion that Lee Aaron is still shining brightly in the rock and roll pantheon.)

For last night’s set, Aaron played two songs from Metal Queen (1984), two from Lee Aaron (1987), four from Bodyrock (1989), two from Some Girls Do (1991), one from Fire and Gasoline (2016), three from Diamond Baby Blues (2018), two from Radio On (2021), and two from Elevate (2022). 

When it comes to the studio versions, I can play favorites with many of the songs. But when hearing them live—because they each reach new elevations with the spontaneous gusto the band adds when singing and playing them—it’s hard to pick out highlights. In the moment, your favorite song is the one you are both seeing and hearing right then. 

That said, my sister’s favorite was “Metal Queen,” and mine was “Lady of the Darkest Night,” for unavoidably nostalgic reasons.

Lee Aaron still passes the live music test with flying colors. It’s not rock and roll at its finest unless it’s the full sensory experience, and it’s hard to top an oceanside setting. Last night, by storming the beach scene of the unique White Rock, Canada’s one-and-only Lee Aaron truly slayed. God save the metal queen.

Set List:

“Vampin’,” from Radio On (2021)

“Hands On,” from Bodyrock (1989)

“Black Cat,” from Diamond Baby Blues (2018)

“Elevate,” from Elevate (2022)

“Powerline,” from Lee Aaron (1987)

“Lady of the Darkest Night,” from Metal Queen (1984)

“Diamond Baby,” from Diamond Baby Blues (2018)

“Nasty Boyz,” from Bodyrock (1989)

“Sweet Talk,” from Bodyrock (1989)

“Some Girls Do,” from Some Girls Do (1991)

“Sex With Love,” from Some Girls Do (1991)

“Fire and Gasoline,” from Fire and Gasoline (2016)

“Only Human,” from Lee Aaron (1987)

“Twenty One,” from Radio On (2021)

“Rock Bottom Revolution,” from Elevate (2022)

“Metal Queen,” from Metal Queen (1984)

“Whatcha Do to My Body,” from Bodyrock (1989)

“I’m a Woman,” from Diamond Baby Blues (2018)