Where have the last two months gone? And how many new releases have I enjoyed in the interim? Enough that I’ll be shooting to summarize each one included below in two to four sentences, max! (Though I can’t guarantee they’ll be short sentences.) Purchase/streaming links embedded as usual, so here we gooo . . .
New Music
As teased in our October interview with mainman Jem Godfrey, Frost*’s Life in the Wires(listen here) is the conceptual album of a prog fan’s fondest dreams; the storyline is vintage dystopia (1984 meets Who’s Next), the music a full-on sonic assault from the get-go (replete with widdly synthesizer solos). Pitted against the required cybernetic supervillain, in search of freedom out there in the fields, can Godfrey’s protagonist Naio escape permanent lockdown in teenage wasteland? The ultimate answer is well worth the winding journey; powered by the heady backing of John Mitchell, Nathan King and Craig Blundell, Godfrey easily conjures up the equal of previous band high points Milliontown and Falling Satellites.
On his fresh solo album Bringing It Down to the Bass, Tony Levin launches 14 low-end odysseys with (to quote the hype sticker) “too many virtuoso collaborators to list.” But whether proving that “Boston Rocks” with Bowie guitarist Earl Slick and Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy, “Floating in Dark Waves” below Robert Fripp’s soundscapes, or reuniting with fellow Peter Gabriel bandmembers on multiple jams, Levin always grabs the ear with his supremely melodic bass, Stick and cello work. And his low-key, half-spoken vocals prove surprisingly effective, especially on dry barbershop throwbacks “Side B/Turn It Over” and “On the Drums” and the moving John Lennon tribute “Fire Cross the Sky.”
Pioneer garage rock guitarist Wayne Kramer had one more winner in him before his passing earlier this year. Credited in tribute to Kramer’s seminal Detroit collective MC5, Heavy Lifting(listen here) rages against the political and cultural machines still standing since the band’s original heyday, agitating for a better deal with 13 brash, irresistible helpings of punk (“Barbarians at the Gate”), rock (“Edge of the Switchblade”) and soul (Edwin Starr cover “Twenty-Five Miles”). For the full skinny on why Kramer & company finally snuck into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame through the back door this year, the newMC5: A Oral Biography of Rock’s Most Revolutionary Band is essential reading.
As his long-time collaborators spin off in other directions, Neal Morse just keeps on keeping on! Teaming with The Resonance, a purpose-built quartet of young Nashville hotshots, Morse’s latest No Hill for a Climber(listen here) is a bit of a throwback; instead of full-blown rock opera, Morse builds a multi-faceted album, sandwiching creepy swinger “Thief”, head-down rocker “All the Rage” and melting ballad “Ever Interceding” between twin epics (opener “Eternity in Your Eyes” and the closing title suite). The more straight-on vibe Morse embraced on his Joseph duology predominates here, but with enough detours to keep long-time listeners coming back and intrigue new hearers.
Straight-on is a pretty good description of the new The Pineapple Thief EP Last to Run(listen here) as well; far more than leftovers from the fine It Leads to This, the five songs included here strike hard and deep. As Gavin Harrison weaves enticing rhythmic illusions on drums, Bruce Soord spins up dark, pensive vignettes of personalities in crisis (“All Because of Me”), relationships snarled by dysfunction (“No Friend of Mine”) and societies on the brink (“Election Day”). Another band that mines a familiar vein repeatedly, yet consistently leaves listeners craving more.
Speaking of dysfunction, The Smile’s Cutouts(listen here) resembles nothing so much as a numbed comedown, trailing the apocalypses unflinchingly depicted earlier this year on their Wall of Eyes. Thom Yorke’s nonsense lyrics and bleached-out vocal affect sound light-years away from the redemption Radiohead intimated even at their most jaundiced; Jonny Greenwood spins up orchestral/electronics, evoking distant, forgotten nightmares; Tom Skinner holds down the spare, spacey beat, blithely driving into nothingness. If not as gripping as this trio’s first two albums, Cutouts can still compel with its chill.
But where The Smile chills, Tears for Fears seeks warmth; the four fresh tracks on TfF’s mostly-live Songs for a Nervous Planet(listen here) home in on healing (“Say Goodbye to Mom and Dad”), lasting love (the lush “The Girl that I Call Home” and the psychedelic “Emily Says”) and self-actualization (the quirkily glib “Astronaut”). And there’s plenty more catharsis in concert, as Roland Orzbaal, Curt Smith and backing band blast out the hits of yesteryear and revisit the highlights of their fine 2022 comeback The Tipping Point, all with plenty of enthusiasm and aplomb.
(Live albums and archival releases – box set time! – follow the jump.)
This time around, a cross-section of mostly new, mostly instrumental albums that may start in one genre but willfully refuse to stay there — with frequently bracing results. Purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listings, with any additional purchase links for physical media at the end of a review and streaming access following.
Bass Communion, The Itself of Itself:We can’t say Steven Wilson doesn’t warn us on the album sleeve: “audio artefacts and noise such as tape hiss, wow and flutter, vinyl crackle, distortion and earth hum are (probably) deliberate.” Delving into his longstanding experimental/electronic doom-drone persona, Wilson once again abandons melody and rhythm to slap down raw sonic textures and grind them together across extended time spans. The results range from arresting (the relentless build of horror-soundtrack opener “Unperson”, the uneasy, alarming stasis of the title piece) to utterly forgettable (when my dehumidifier kicked in during “Study for Tape Hiss and Other Artefacts”, I really thought it was part of the track). Am I finally sussing out (as some have theorized) Wilson’s extended con of the prog world? Getting a sneak peek of his 2025 solo album The Overview? Or hearing the latest from an artist who just does whatever he wants and doesn’t particularly care how possessive fans get about him? I’m a diehard Wilson fan, but when it comes to Bass Communion, your guess as to his motivation is probably as good as mine. (Order the CD from Burning Shed here.)
Can, Live in Aston 1977:Krautrock’s most thoroughly improvisational outfit got thoroughly funky in the late ’70s, courtesy of Rosko Gee, Jamaican bassist of no mean ability. With Gee powering the beat and previous bassist Holger Czukay dialing up snippets from shortwave radio and tape libraries, this version of Can is rhythmically tighter and tonally looser at the same time. That means Michael Karoli has more room to howl on guitar, Irmin Schmidt can conjure thicker clouds and launch edgier thunderbolts from his keyboards, and drummer Jaki Liebezeit can drill down into his unstoppable, drily metronomic groove. The clangorous solo section of “Drei” (enticing in its ambiguity – who’s playing this crazy thing that sounds like a bell choir in hyperdrive?) and the insistent, stonking, organ-led groove of “Vier” are high points. A solid addition to this fine archival series of vintage concerts.
The Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus, The Dream We Carry: RAIJ’s 2020 effort Songs of Yearning was my Top Favorite album of that strange year; I called it “a sacramental transmission from, then to, the heart of creation.” The Liverpool “experimental arthouse collective” has reduced its core personnel and pared back its weirdness ever so slightly, but their inviting mélange of reflection and insistence, sacred and profane persist. Jesse Main’s vocals and Eliza Carew’s cello gracefully arc over Paul Boyce and Leslie Hampson’s lush instrumental backing; on multi-track suites like “Les Fils des Etoiles” through “Object of Desire”, fragments of multilingual poems, songs and spoken word rise from nowhere, become incarnate, declare their tidings, then disappear into a wistful bed of chamber and orchestral tone color. Like RAIJ’s entire catalog, The Dream We Carry testifies to mystery tucked within the mundane, exemplified by album ender “The Song of Wandering Aengus”; it’s an eloquent yet elusive invitation to encounter the Spirit active at the heart of the fields we know.
Rich Ruth, Water Still Flows:Reviewing 2022’s I Survived, It’s Over, my thumbnail sketch of Nashville guitarist Rich Ruth pointed to him as RAIJ’s American counterpart — but on the evidence of his latest, that assessment sells him short. For Water Still Flows, Ruth adds massive slabs of dark metal riffage to his already potent mix of cosmic ambience, celebratory spiritual jazz, and slow-crawling post-rock. Opener “Action at a Distance” feels like a heftier “Won’t Get Fooled Again”; marauding power chords choke off the luxuriant strings of “God Won’t Speak”; the blissful comedown of “Somewhere in Time” sticks a soft landing after the devastating climax of “Aspiring to the Sky”. With an eclectic ensemble of sax, harp, and pedal steel plus Ruth’s frenetic axework anchored by Reuben Gingrich’s crashing drums, this album is a mighty, impeccably shaped tone poem that once again journeys through pain and catastrophe to refreshment and renewal. (Order the LP or CD from Third Man Records here.)
Soft Machine, Høvikodden 1971: The seminal British jazz-rock band at its creative peak, recorded over two nights at a Norwegian arts center. At each show, Mike Ratledge’s inimitable fuzz organ takes command; multi-saxist Elton Dean lets loose with an unending stream of raucous Coltrane licks; Hugh Hopper’s bass swarms, clambers and climbs, refusing to stay on the low end; Robert Wyatt’s limber drumming seethes, weaving through the tonal murk at will. Sometimes locking together in breathtaking unison, sometimes scattering to widely separated corners, the Softs approach classic material like “Facelift”, “Fletcher’s Blend” and “Out-Bloody-Rageous” from vastly different perspectives at different shows; the first night is a anarchic fireworks display, gobsmacking in its sweep, while the second night channels the quartet’s energy into a thrilling, thrusting sense of unified drive (albeit with laid back interludes). There’s tons of live Soft Machine available, but this newly released box set is a genuine high point of their already formidable discography.
Billy Strings, Live Vol. 1: I’ve gotta admit, I’m late to the party here; before a recent sojourn in Nashville and a resulting reacquaintance with all things Americana, I had missed out on the mightiest musician to hail from Michigan in a long, long time. Strings is, without a doubt, the real deal: a virtuoso guitarist, a first-rate singer and a songwriter who’s already shown signs of true, durable greatness. On his first live release, he and his band turn gritty evocations of small-town vice (“Dust in a Baggie,” “Turmoil and Tinfoil”) and poetic contemplations of the bigger picture (“Long Forgotten Dream”, “Fire Line/Reuben’s Train”) into unabashed, dynamic bluegrass brilliance, stirring in proggy interplay and psychedelic seasoning, stretching out their jams for maximum tension and impact, but with nary a wasted note or a thoughtless lick. This is an absolutely smashing major label debut, a snapshot of a phenomenon in perpetual motion, the music grounded in Strings’ heart as well as his fearsome chops, and already on my Favorites list for this year. (Strings’ next studio album, Highway Prayers, has just been announced for a September 27 release.)
Mark Wingfield, The Gathering:Nightmarish complications severely curtailed MoonJune Records’ ability to sell this beauty on CD — which is a shame, because it may be British fusionist Wingfield’s most accomplished and focused effort to date. Languorous, enticing compositions like “Apparition in the Vaults”, “A Fleeting Glance” and “Cinnamon Bird” consistently take flight here: Wingfield’s guitar traces ecstatic melodic parabolas and sparse changes; Gary Husband colors the soundscape with juicy pads, inspired atmospheres and choice accents on piano and synth; Asaf Sirkis lays down a spacious, unshakeable polyrhythmic grid to propel things forward. What makes this even more of a killer session is the overdubbed bass contributions of King Crimson’s Tony Levin (focusing on active, rich-toned counterpoint) and Brand X’s Percy Jones (bubbling under with his unique tone and angular comping). It’s daring and delightful from start to finish, as an all-star lineup of truly great players work with total concentration and dedication, and make this sophisticated yet accessible music their own.
Due to circumstances beyond my control — thanks to everybody who helped out! — this edition of Quick Takes is playing catch-up. This time around, purchase links are embedded in the release title, with any additional sample/streaming links labelled (LISTEN HERE).
The last few months’ progressive rock releases have skewed heavily toward reissues — for example, Keith Emerson and Greg Lake’s mid-1980s reunion with hard-rocker Cozy Powell in the drummer’s chair. Triple-cd box Emerson, Lake & Powell: The Complete Collection(LISTEN HERE) is a compact, yet worthy appendix to the ELP canon. The main album, ranging from extended throwbacks “The Score” and “The Miracle” through jazzy diversion “Step Aside” to souped-up classical gas like the single “Touch and Go” and Holst’s “Mars, the Bringer of War” is big, brash, widescreen stuff; both in the studio and on the two live discs included, Emerson’s thrusting digital synthesizer upgrades, Lake’s full-throated bravura vocals and Powell’s sleek percussive drive come on like gangbusters on new material and vintage classics such as “Pictures at an Exhibition” and “Pirates”. ELP’s mass appeal remained in the rear view mirror, but Emerson, Lake and Powell was a game try at reinvention for a different time.
Carl Palmer was playing drums for Asia during ELPowell’s flare and fade, but he’s remained engaged with his biggest band’s work, stepping up as legacy guardian after Emerson and Lake’s passing. Disc 1 of Palmer’s solo boxFanfare for the Common Man(a reissue/expansion of 2001’s Do You Wanna Play, Carl?) shows how he emerged from his bandmates’ shadows in the later 1970s, asserting himself in spellbinding trio jams, big band blowouts and a stylish, eclectic percussion concerto; disc 2 covers his roots in British R&B and psychedelia plus his later collaborations with Asia and others, while a new 3rd disc documents live work reinventing the ELP repertoire for guitar-based power trio. The accompanying BluRay video and biography are revealing, though scattered and even self-contradictory. But that’s a minor blemish: Palmer remains rightly admired and respected by musical peers and fans, and still on the road in his 70s, he retains the rhythmic fire and momentum that this set amply demonstrates.
ELP weren’t the only proggers trying to reinvent themselves after the mid-70s; on side one of 1977’s The Missing Piece(LISTEN HERE), the manic British sextet Gentle Giant made ever so coy feints at co-opting the energy of punk and New Wave (especially on the self-conscious spoof “Betcha Thought We Couldn’t Do It”). Side two was more relaxed; reaching for the soul-inflected art-pop that Genesis and Yes later rode to the top of the charts, the Shulman brothers & company still stirred in Baroque cross-rhythms (“As Old As You’re Young”), stately balladry (“Memories of Old Days”) and breakneck instrumental and vocal twists and turns (“Winning”). With Steven Wilson providing fresh stereo and spatial audio remixes, this is another delightful installment in the Giant’s ongoing series of album upgrades.
English folk-classicalists Renaissance kept plugging through the decades, with operatic lead singer Annie Haslam at the helm. 2000’s Tuscany(LISTEN HERE) was Haslam’s last go-round with key members guitarist Michael Dunford and drummer Terence Sullivan (plus limpid guest piano work from former keyboardist Jon Tout). Not as urgent as their 1970s work, it’s still a lovely, impressionistic album, gently meditating on the nexus of art (“Lady from Tuscany”, “Dear Landseer”), nature (“Pearls of Wisdom,” “Dolphin’ s Prayer”) and love (“In the Sunshine”, “One Thousand Roses”). A complete live show from Renaissance’s 2001 tour of Japan included as a bonus mixes new tunes with career standbys such as “Carpet of the Sun,” “Northern Lights” and “Mother Russia”, showing off Haslam and company’s musicality and consistency. As usual, Esoteric Recordings’ latest Renaissance reissue provides the context to better assess the work of this underrated band.
And in the wake of its new reissue, I now consider Yes’ 1994 album Talk the most unified effort of their post-prog decade. (It was also the least well-known, due to grunge taking over rock radio and Yes’ record company collapsing.) The only full-blown songwriting team-up of hippie muse Jon Anderson and guitarist/keyboardist/composer Trevor Rabin, Talk’s tunes ooze out-there ambition and hi-gloss appeal; the choral kick of “The Calling” and “Walls”, “Real Love’ jangle-pop/heavy metal synergy, the skip-hopping “State of Play” and the closing multi-part epic “Endless Dream” are stunningly remastered to devastating impact. Rhythm section Chris Squire and Alan White are at their most down and dirty; Tony Kaye leans in with expressive, gnarly organ work. And a bonus live set (from the soundboard at a 1994s tour stop) showed that this lineup could conjure a fairly close approximation of the classic sound on standbys like “Heart of the Sunrise” and “I’ve Seen All Good People”. If you loved Yes but wrote them off between 90125 and Union, I’m serious; give Talk a shot.
There have also been plenty of ear-opening new releases, mostly rooted in improvisation rather than composition. The latest posthumous set from piano legend Chick Corea has its source in a 2019 tour and follow-up sessions with eclectic banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck; the aptly-titled Remembrance(LISTEN HERE) covers an incredible range of sonic possibilities, with the duo wailing on Thelonious Monk’s “Bemsha Swing”, Scarlatti sonatas, brand new compositions and impromptus pulled from thin air. Impeccably tasty and always in the moment, Corea and Fleck spark off each other constantly, caught up in an unending sense of play and delight. Fans of either player will love this, and folks who dig acoustic jazz, bluegrass or both will find themselves smiling again and again when they hear it.
While Brad Mehldau is one of the numerous young lions who followed in Corea’s wake on piano, his sound and vision are uniquely his own, as a fresh pair of solo discs make clear. On After Bach II, Mehldau brings his love for the classical piano tradition and his improvisational chops to bear on a second set of J.S. Bach’s richly poised keyboard works, mingling preludes and fugues played straight with jazzier extrapolations (“Between Bach”) and superimposed twists of rhythm and counterpoint based on one of Bach’s pinnacles, the Goldberg Variations. Apres Fauré brings a similar freedom to the music of Gabriel Fauré, the French composer who became a unique bridge between the late Romantic and Impressionist schools; Mehldau responds to Fauré’s sense of adventure with sweeping repetitious bass lines, long-spun singing melodies, and thick two-handed harmonies. Plenty of rigorous development to chew on, plenty of knotty invention and lush sound to bask in on both of these!
On their new EP Tropic of Cancer, Chicago’s heavy-prog-jazzers Sons of Ra show how they can unspool variations on a theme with staggering impact. Setting a nimble, dancing idea with roots in fusion’s golden age into motion, multi-instrumentalists Erik Oldman and Keith Wakefield and drummer Michael Rataj put it through exhilarating paces over 23 minutes: you get wah-wah electric piano extrapolations, a sax/bass duet over a bed of guitar/sax noise; a wonderfully idiomatic folk/Celtic throwdown (complete with guests on violin, flute and pipa); a Santanesque guitar jam that spirals up dizzingly before it goes off like a fireworks display; and a gargantuan finish with hypnotic sax wailing over a shuddering guitar army. No jive; this is great stuff, and Sons of Ra are a band to which attention must be paid!
King Crimson-adjacent power trio Markus Reuter, Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto are also back with the ironically titled Tu-Ner for Lovers, another heaping helping of rich, doomy thrash. Sculpted from improvs recorded on their 2023 tour, the trio scrape, scratch and scrawl from the get-go, with Mastelotto laying down off-kilter tribal beats, Gunn rattling listeners’ innards with sludgy bass lines and Reuter slapping down arresting leads and color clusters on touch guitar. Stalking the abstract sublime, the music coalesces as the album progresses, locking in to galvanizing effect on closing stompers “They Call Him Threnody” and “Transistor Valentine”, wispily floater “I Put a Crush on You” and skittering finale “Combat and Courtship”. You may need to be in the right mood for this to grab you — alienation? Righteous anger? — but when you are, boy, does it hit home!
Kamasi Washington’s long-awaited double album Fearless Movement is every bit as kickass and sprawling as previous spectaculars The Epic and Heaven and Earth (the latter my 2018 Album of the Year), but somehow settles in a gentler, more welcoming vein. It kicks off with “Lesanu”, an Egyptian Orthodox chant of Psalm 96 riding first a free-jazz slam, then a finger-snapping, hand-clapping vamp and ends with “Prologue”, an Astor Piazzolla tango that morphs into a blaxploitation movie theme; at all points within and between, Washington on tenor sax, keyboardists Cameron Graves and Brandon Coleman, Ryan Porter and Dontae Winslow on brass, and a platoon of guests play and sing up a storm. But slower burning tracks like “Asha the First” and “Together” provide respite from the intensity of Washington’s sweep and surge, and a looser, relaxed sense of momentum on the Zapp cover “Computer Love” and the extended workout “Road to Self (KO)” helps you catch your breath. Washington and his friends are still making audacious spiritual jazz, building from whispers to screams again and again and dancing across barlines like they don’t exist; but somehow this set feels more like a place to make a home than a monument to visit. And yes, this one’s gonna be on my Favorites list this time around, too . . .
And sometimes, you just need some down-home picking and singing. On the heels of selling out the Ryman Auditorium (documented on record to great effect last year) and duetting with Willie Nelson, Charley Crockett pitches a passel of new songs our way on $10 Cowboy(LISTEN HERE) As with much of Crockett’s recent work, this album leans into soul nearly as much as country; the choogling brass and choral vocals of “America”, the piano-with-strings heartbreaker “Gettin’ Tired Again” and the funky “Diamond in the Rough” can’t help but call Motown and Memphis to mind. But there’s plenty of Nashville/Austin classicism too, in the steel guitar-laced single “Hard Luck and Circumstances”, the Latin-flavored acoustic revenge ballad “Spade” and the honky tonk shuffle “Ain’t Done Losing It” Whether this is the long-predicted breakthrough for Crockett or not, $10 Cowboy is a thoroughly satisfying album, capturing sharply defined snapshots of a nation wondering when things will get better.
And (thanks to the copious music collection found at the main branch of the Grand Rapids Public Library), I discovered that Sierra Ferrell’s 2021 debut Long Time Coming is every bit as good as her new one (Trail of Flowers, reviewed last time). My entire notes for this one consisted of the word “WOW!!”, so I’ll just point you in the direction of this review (from my go-to site for genre news and reviews, Saving Country Music), add Long Time Coming to my 2024 Favorites list and look forward to hearing her live in September!
I get into trouble and I hit the wall No place to turn – no place at all I pick a number between one and two And I ask myself what would Julius Caesar do?
Bob Dylan, “My Own Version of You”
Shortly after Bob Dylan barked out those couplets to the audience at Grand Rapids’ DeVos Performance Hall, he answered his rhetorical question with another recent tune: “I prayed to the cross and I kissed the girls and I crossed the Rubicon”. So it was no surprise that, on a night where the 82-year-old icon genially lorded it over his band and a capacity crowd, another historical JC crept into the setlist too . . .
But let’s rewind. Hitting the stage in a black sequined suit and white hat, Dylan planted himself behind a baby grand piano and promptly dispelled any expectations of a by-the-numbers night of bygone hits. The opener was recognizable as the 1970s deep track “Watching the River Flow” — but only just. Words were stretched out, scrunched together and slurred, melodies recast on the very edge of speech, the original flowing folk song juiced up by jumpin’ R&B from the backup quintet. To top it off, Dylan took all the solos — ranging from inspired rhythmic riffs to maddeningly repeated three-note licks (the kind you played in grade-school piano duets) that occasionally locked in with the band’s chords. The message was clear: “I’m doing whatever I want with these songs tonight. Keep up.”
To their credit, Dylan’s crew did just that, with style to spare. Whether on electric or stand-up bass, long-time musical director Tony Garnier’s pulse was always squarely in the pocket; guitarists Bob Britt and Doug Lancio’s sturdy strumming kept the songs plowing forward, even when their boss pulled back on the melodies and rhythms. With the vehicle in motion, utility player Donnie Herron piled on the colorful trim — floating pedal steel guitar, countrified fiddle, sprightly mandolin. And drummer Jesse Pentecost, the newest band member, gave it all a kick in the pants, changing and chopping the grooves of every tune from Dylan’s latest album of new material, Rough and Rowdy Ways. Nothing was straight off the record: slow blues spread out into shuffles; crawling ballads shifted up a gear to more fluid tempos; the whimsical meditation “Key West (Philosopher Pirate)” turned into film noir, darkening on a dime during an ominous, reharmonized refrain. If details got lost in the roar of the journey, it proved an exhilarating ride. (And Dylan was digging it — late in the set, he introduced the band members by name, which apparently only happens when he’s in a good mood.)
Dylan proved equally daring on a relatively obscure selection of vintage tunes, taking the reinventions of this year’s live-in-studio Shadow Kingdom even farther. “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” careened from free-tempo intro to Little Richard stomper (complete with Jerry Lee Lewis piano glisses) to a hard-braked burlesque finale. “To Be Alone With You” got the full honky-tonk treatment, courtesy of Pentecost’s loping backbeat and Herron’s cry-in-your-beer filigree. Given the nature of the night, the biggest surprise wasn’t that Dylan’s fundamentalist calling card “Gotta Serve Somebody” cropped up as a rockabilly-flavored rhumba; it was that the only cover of the set, Chuck Berry’s “Nadine”, was played and sung absolutely straight (and garnered as much applause as anything else)!
Though I’ve gotta say the biggest kick for me was the relaxed finale: “Every Grain of Sand”, one of Dylan’s numerous farewells to whoever or whatever threatened to cramp his style over the decades. A final fruit of his evangelizing years, it proved a graceful closer for the evening, a benediction of sorts on the rapt audience, complete with Bob’s only harmonica solo of the night after the final lyrics:
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
At which point, Bob Dylan carefully hobbled to center stage, stood there bathed in applause, smiled, and — the very embodiment of Boomer noblesse oblige — took leave of the 2,000 mere mortals before him, off to future stops on his latest imperial progress.
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.
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 Battleof 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.
Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify for streaming with a additional purchase link where available.
Starting with an obvious choice around these parts: Ingenious Devices proves a winning Big Big Train compilation, featuring Greg Spawton’s life-enhancing explorations of humanity’s drive to expand its reach. Vividly orchestrated reworkings of “East Coast Racer” and “Brooklands” join a remix of Grand Tour’s “Voyager” and a stirring live take of “Atlantic Cable” featuring new lead singer Alberto Bravin; the result is a fresh, vital, thoroughly moving suite of prog epics. Recommended without hesitation!
Southern rockers Drive-By Truckers have also reached back — fleshing out their classic 2004 effort as The Complete Dirty South, the double album they originally conceived. Triple-threat guitarist/songwriters Patterson Hood, Mike Cooley and Jason Isbell reel off tale after compelling tale of characters caught in desperate circumstances, torn between bad choices, clinging to vagrant hopes. Their rampaging hard-rock energy, seasoned with delicate country soul balladry, is what elevates the whole concept beyond haunted fatalism to an intense meditation on courage in the face of overwhelming odds. (Having left the DBTs in 2007, Jason Isbell continues to go from strength to strength. His brand-new effort with The 400 Unit, Weathervanes, brings tons of sharp writing and fiery playing to a clutch of deeply empathetic Americana narratives, topped with irresistible choruses and just a pinch of classic rock a la Bruce, The Byrds and Neil Young. Whatever your take on country music, you really shouldn’t miss either of these.)
Also on the reissue front, Gentle Giant’s 1976 effort Interview now has a spruced-up, punchy remix from Steven Wilson (available here) that breezily clarifies the British quintet’s counterpoint vocals (“Design”), interweaving instrumental lines (the title track, frenetically funky closer “I Lost My Head”) and multistylistic hijinks (the unanticipated reggae chorus of “Give It Back”). The Moody Blues’ second release of 1969, To Our Children’s Children’s Children, becomes their third vintage set to get the multi-disc box treatment – though it’s only available digitally in the US. While the album proper leans toward studio psychedelia laced with wispy slow-dance tunes and the odd cabaret flourish, the bonus live tracks (including a complete set from the Royal Albert Hall) reveal the Moodies as quite the stomping rock outfit, slipping the leash on the album’s single “Gypsy,” the encore “Ride My Seesaw” and core tracks from Days of Future Passed.
Live releases have picked up again as well. For their concert video debut Island Live (available through Magenta’s Tigermoth label), Jem Godfrey’s tech-forward quartet Frost* reap a whirlwind harvest of monumentally proportioned prog. With bassist Nathan King and drummer Craig Blundell anchoring the jumpy polyrhythms, guitarist John Mitchell and keyboardist Godfrey eagerly splatter as many unhinged solos as possible across devilishly ingenious harmonic structures, singing their hearts out all the while. (Check out a video sample here.) Prefer calmer (though no less extended) sonic voyages? Lifesigns’ Live in the Netherlands should be just the ticket. Leaning on the music from 2021’s Altitude, keyboardist/composer John Young and guitarist Dave Bainbridge prove steady hands on the wheel, soothing the soul as they scale the majestic heights of “Open Skies,” “Ivory Tower” and “Last One Home”. (One other winner from outside the genre: for a 2021 COVID-time video, Bob Dylan fused his recent rummagings amongst the blues and pre-rock vocal stylings to revitalize his vintage repertoire. The unplugged sorta-soundtrack Shadow Kingdom is the winning result; order it here.)
Speaking of concerts, my prep for a recent show by British “post-Brexitcore” bashers black midi included their latest album Hellfire, which hit plenty of 2022 best-of lists in and out of the prog world. A detailed live review is forthcoming; suffice to say that on record, bm’s dense, anarchic musical interaction tracks all too well with their jaundiced first-person lyrical vignettes — it’s postmodern life as absurd, unstoppable apocalypse. A welcome bonus from that concert was meeting Mike Potter, Renaissance man of the Eastern Seaboard — astrophysicist, former recording studio owner and a whiz on keys, woodwinds and vocals too! Potter’s band Alakazam has just released their fourth disc, Carnival Dawn; it’s a heady conceptual effort that stirs equal parts Ray Bradbury and Stephen King into a bubbling stew garnished with ominous Mellotron, creepy clarinet and saxophone, and the wondrously deranged verbal musings of sundry evil clowns. By the pricking of my thumbs, it’s worth a listen — if you dare. And for a coolly energizing dose of order to chase the above chaos, you won’t do better than Sonar’s new Three Movements. Here Stephen Thelen and company harness a genuinely symphonic tension, building up towering rhythmic edifices that reach dizzying heights; at the climaxes, as guests David Torn on guitar and J. Peter Schwalm on electronics launch volley after volley of improvised ambience, the tension breaks, the clouds clear, and you might just hear the music of the spheres!
Nickel Creek with Gaby Moreno, Frederik Meijer Gardens Amphitheater, June 8, 2023
After a warm late spring day (with atmospheric residue from Canadian forest fires actually visible under the stage lights), a capacity crowd of 1,900 was primed for ignition at my local outdoor amphitheater’s opening night. And once Guatemalan singer-songwriter Gaby Moreno had warmed us up with her beguiling vocals and deft guitar work, Nickel Creek didn’t disappoint.
Launching into “Where the Long Line Leads” from the brand-new reunion album Celebrants, fiddler/guitarist Sara Watkins shot off sassy sung verses like rockets, as mandolinist Chris Thile and guitarist Sean Watkins fueled the rhythm with their tight backing harmonies, then grabbed equal shares of the three-part choruses. And once Thile, then Sara ripped out incendiary solos, stoked by guest bassist Jeff Picker — whew! By the end of that opener, the progressive bluegrass trio had fired up Meijer Gardens but good.
It was a hot start to a hot night, even as the temperature on the amphitheater lawn went down with the sun. Mixing in about half of Celebrants with roughly equal selections from their previous four albums, Nickel Creek walked the line flawlessly between fresh and vintage, instrumental and vocal, tradition and the cutting edge. The trickily-timed bluegrass workout “Going Out . . .” slotted in effortlessly with obvious audience favorites like “Ode to a Butterfly” and “Smoothie Song”; Thile’s “The Meadow” proved another ironic kiss-off to passing romance in the ongoing vein of “Helena”, “This Side” and “Somebody More Like You”. Sara’s “Thinnest Wall”, goofily introduced as a song about “the middle of a relationship for a change,” wore its heart on its sleeve just as much as oldies “When You Come Back Down” and “Sabra Girl”; and Sean’s vocal feature “21st of May” proved weirdly sympathetic to its tale of a desperate preacher who believes that, at long last, he’s finally got the date of the Rapture right!
A few notes before I dive in: items I’ve reviewed here are linked to the relevant Progarchy article via the artist/album title; If I didn’t review an item here or elsewhere, it’s marked with an asterisk (*) — but I hope the capsule description and listening/order links will encourage you to check it out!
Big Big Train, Welcome to the Planet: what turned out to be BBT’s final effort with the late David Longdon consolidates the widened horizons of Grand Tour and the intimate subjects of Common Ground, casting an epic light on the everyday glory of family, community, joy and loss.
Cosmograf, Heroic Materials: Elegiac in its evocation of past achievements, urgent in its contemporary call to action, breathtaking in its poised blend of fragility and strength, Robin Armstrong’s latest is a riveting listen.
The Flower Kings, By Royal Decree: TFK’s third double album in a row, this is the sound of Roine Stolt and company refreshed and revisiting their optimistic roots, soaring on the wings of one marvelous melody after another. As much a joy to hear as it must have been to create.
Mary Halvorson, Amaryllis & Belladonna: free jazz guitarist Halvorson hits a major label with two albums — teaming with a boisterously simpatico sextet on Amaryllis, then dancing atop and around modern classical textures from the Mivos Quartet on Belladonna. Audacious and engrossing, this music will open your ears real good!
Dave Kerzner, The Traveller: confident, appealing songwriting with hooky yet sophisticated melodies and structures, Kerzner’s best, widest ranging vocals to date and perfectly judged contributions from a stellar guest list. Letting his new songs sell themselves and keeping proceedings to the point, he both satisfies us and leaves us wanting more.
The Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, Cold As Weiss: An immediately accessible reboot of a classic jazz trio format. Organist Lamarr, guitarist Jimmy James and drummer Daniel Weiss are thrilling players who never fail to make their instruments sing. Funky, catchy bite-size tracks with great individual playing and razor sharp ensemble.
Marillion, An Hour Before It’s Dark: The front half of Los Marillos’ latest has more swagger than they’ve mustered in a while; the back half’s meditative downshift climaxes with the sweeping smashcut finale “Care,” as power chords and massed choirs climb heavenward. Unique as anything in their catalog, and another thoroughbred winner.
Pure Reason Revolution, Above Cirrus: this fifth album reveals PRR at their best, consistently upping their game to the next level. For every moment of blissful harmonies and glidepath atmospherics, there’s an equal and opposite moment of feral guitar/drum slammin’ — and when they layer the two together, look out! Well worth buckling up for the ride.
The Smile, A Light For Attracting Attention: A Radiohead side project worth your while. Thom Yorke overflows with apocalyptic dread; Jonny Greenwood’s off-kilter instrumental instincts are keener than ever; Tom Skinner’s skittering beats relentlessly drive the grim, lush soundscapes forward. Music for our contemporary dystopia, irresistibly sucking you in.
Tears For Fears, The Tipping Point: Roland Orzbaal & Curtis Smith’s catchy-as-always comeback goes for catharsis via unstoppable rhythms, unforgettable choruses and naked vulnerability on every single track, Devastatingly gorgeous, uncompromising art-pop that will haunt you long after every listen.
And my Top Favorite of the year — Wilco, Cruel Country. A double set that detours from Jeff Tweedy’s thoughtful dad-rock toward Nashville and Bakersfield, the tactile interplay of the band and Tweedy’s quizzical, empathetic probes of societal alienation elevate this to an album of genuine tenderness and subtlety, gathering strength and heart as it unrolls. After a digital-only release this year, it’s finally coming out on LP and CD January 20!
My favorite reissues of 2022:
The Beatles, Revolver Special Edition*: No Revolver, no Sergeant Pepper — no prog? Regardless of what ifs, the Fabs’ great leap forward of 1966 was brilliant in its own right, dragging pop headlong toward the avant-garde. Here it gets a subtle yet effective remix, with fascinating studio outtakes framing the cutting-edge results.
Tim Bowness & Giancarlo Erra, Memories of Machines: an irresistible mix of unflinchingly intimate art-rock and lowering ambient backdrops. Ten years on, original arrangements and track lengths are restored, Erra’s textural work is inched forward — and as always, Bowness breaks your heart with his ringing couplets and his stoic voice.
My Top Favorite Reissue of the year: Robert Fripp, Exposure/Exposures. The guitarist’s 1979 return to active duty after a post-King Crimson sabbatical, binding together a disparate set of songs and guest artists with his innovative ambient Frippertronics. Whether by itself or as part of a gargantuan box set that chronicles Fripp’s entire “Drive to 1981,” it’s a wild, worthwhile listen in and of itself, while providing distinctive previews of coming attractions.
Marillion, Holidays in Eden Deluxe Edition*: my introduction to the band (I first saw them live on the US tour promoting the album), Holidays was partially a product of record company pressure for hit singles, but it also has plenty of Marillion’s trademark ambition, power and lyricism. A fresh remix complemented by exciting live shows on both audio and video.
Soft Machine, Bundles*: Add blazing young guitarist Allan Holdsworth to one of the pioneering British jazz-rock bands, stir in quirky compositions by keyboardists Karl Jenkins and Mike Ratledge, and stand by for fireworks! This fresh reissue also includes a hot live set featuring Holdsworth’s successor John Ethridge (still active with the Softs today).
Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Super Deluxe Edition*:The album that put Wilco on the map (after they were dropped by their label), YHF mutated from Americana through dream-pop to electronica-tinged folk-rock as band members and producers came and went. Eight discs that copiously chronicle the recording process, plus blistering two live sets.
Anything released by Chicago’s International Anthem Recording Company! For starters, check out these beauties on Bandcamp: drummer/producer Makaya McCraven’sIn These Times*; cornetist/composer Rob Mazurek’s Exploding Star Orchestra, Dimensional Stardust*; and guitarist/improviser Jeff Parker’s The New Breed*. Hoping to write more about this amazing label and the music released on it in the new year!
Stevie Wonder, Songs in the Key of Life & Original Musiquarium I: On his groundbreaking 1970s albums, Wonder blended heavenly melodies, sophisticated chord structures, groundbreaking synthesizer work and heaping helpings of funk rhythms for one innovative, irresistible breakthrough after another. Songs in the Key of Life remains Wonder’s most expansive, fascinating and welcoming classic; Musiquarium is a double-disc highlights compilation from that golden decade.
My favorite live album of 2022: Big Big Train, Summer Shall Not Fade*. Equal parts power and grace, BBT’s 2018 headlining gig at Germany’s Night of the Prog may be their best live release yet. Playing to their largest crowd ever, David Longdon commands the stage; Greg Spawton and Nick D’Virgilio provide a muscular foundation; Dave Gregory, Rikard Sjobom, Danny Manners and Rachel Hall serve up one delightful moment after another. Bryan Morey’s review nails it; this is indispensable.
My favorite rock documentary of 2022: In The Court of the Crimson King: King Crimson at 50*.The most unconventional band of the last five decades gets the most unconventional documentary possible. Crims past and present weigh in on “living, dying, laughing, playing and rocking out”, with Robert Fripp providing the ever-present focal point in a particularly puckish fashion. There’s also a deluxe edition with live Crimson video (both in the studio and at 2019’s Rock in Rio festival) and four bonus CDs of soundtrack cuts, rarities, etc.
My favorite books about music of 2022:
Vashti Bunyan, Wayward: Just Another Life to Live. Singer-songwriter Bunyan’s unlikely late-60s odyssey from Swinging London to the Hebrides forms the heart of this evocative narrative. Laboriously traversing the heart of England, she gains understanding of the natural world, of human kindness and cruelty — and of her own sturdy inner core.
Robert Fripp, The Guitar Circle*. More a philosophical tome than a how-to book, though still remarkably practical, Fripp’s highly conceptual explanation of his process (as unfolded in Guitar Craft courses and Guitar Circles) won’t be for everyone. But those who dig in will grasp where this eternally questing musician is coming from better than ever before.
David Leaf, God Only Knows: The Story of Brian Wilson, The Beach Boys And The California Myth*. The third edition of Leaf’s lifework chronicles The Beach Boys’ journey from surf-rock through eccentric art-pop to the dead end of nostalgia, then sidesteps to Wilson’s solo comeback, culminating in the completion of his masterwork Smile. Not in the least objective, but comprehensive, even-handed toward the rest of The Beach Boys, and heartfelt.
Grant Moon, Big Big Train – Between The Lines: The Story Of A Rock Band. How BBT became a prog powerhouse — through sheer bloody-mindedness, growth in craft and a keen ear for musical contributors — is the tale told in this richly detailed bio/coffee table tome. Both a celebration of the music made and an unflinching look at the price paid for a dream.
And in closing . . .
If you’re interested, check out these recordings I played or sang on that were released in 2022:
It’s been another excellent month for new music. So let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? Purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing; playlists or video samplers follow each review.
Dave Kerzner, The Traveler: A third concept album from Kerzner, continuing the through line of New World and Static (with nods to In Continuum’s Acceleration Theory lurking about as well). The opener “Another Lifetime” sets out this record’s remarkable strengths: confident, appealing songwriting with hooky yet sophisticated melodies and structures; Kerzner’s best, widest ranging vocals to date; and the perfectly judged contributions of Fernando Perdomo on guitar, Joe Deninzon on violin, Ruti Celli on cello and Marco Minneman on drums (only a smattering of the stellar guest list here). The dry, forward sound and the copious use of vintage keyboards on tunes like “A Time In Your Mind” evokes early-80s Genesis at times (since Kerzner got those keyboards from Tony Banks, no real surprise there), but the power ballad “Took It For Granted” and the closing suite framed by the two parts of “Here and Now” show Kerzner moving his character’s story forward while striking out in fresh musical directions like the sunshine guitar pop of “A Better Life”. Overall, Kerzner exhibits a lighter touch here, and The Traveler is the better for it; by letting his new songs sell themselves and keeping proceedings to the point, he both satisfies us and leaves us wanting more. After repeated listens, this one’s already on my “favorites of ’22” list!
Lonely Robot, A Model Life:John Mitchell has had a rough last few years, and he doesn’t care who knows it. In the wake of a global pandemic, the collapse of a long-term relationship, and a confrontation with his deepest doubts and fears, Mitchell’s done what he does best: slip into his Lonely Robot persona and pour it all out in a fine set of laterally structured, elegantly crafted, fearlessly emotional songs. Writing, singing and playing (especially in his rekindled relationship with the guitar solo) at peak inspiration, Mitchell lays the ghost of his former love (the nervy “Recalibrating”, the forlorn “Mandalay”), skewers our mad world (“Digital God Machine” and “Island of Misfit Toys”), mourns ways of lives and times now in the rearview mirror (the breathtaking ballad “Species in Transition”, the crunching elegy “Starlit Stardust”), and ponders how and why he became who he is (the brilliant final run of “Rain Kings”, “Duty of Care”, “In Memoriam”). Easily his best work under the Lonely Robot banner, Mitchell wears his heart on his sleeve and plays to the gallery at the same time; this is an outright spectacular effort that’s got both all the feels and all the chops. (Check out our latest interview with John Mitchell here.)
Motorpsycho, Ancient Astronauts: the kings of Norwegian drone-prog continue their enviable hot streak on their fifth album in six years. “We’re all a little bit insane,” Bent Saether chirps on the opener “The Ladder”, and as the track spirals upward, mingling the howl of Hans Magnus Ryan’s guitar and Saether’s darkly glimmering Mellotron, you believe him. The edgily abstract interlude “The Flower of Awareness” cleanses the palette for a Crimsonesque workout on “Mona Lisa/Azrael”; Ryan builds towering edifices of distortion over a trademark Saether riff, as drummer Tomas Jarmyr matches their ebb and flow all the way through the shuddering climax and the slo-mo collapse. Astonishingly, all this just serves as prologue to the “Chariot of the Sun: To Phaeton on the Occasion of the Sunrise (Theme from an Imagined Movie)” It’s as if Motorpsycho’s brief for this 22-minute finale was to rival “La Villa Strangiato” in both range and focus; gentle strumming and wordless vocals give way to more menacing bass riffs, fuzz guitar deployed in duet and counterpoint, feral percussive cross-rhythms. It all mounts to multiple climaxes (a mighty unison riff, ominous post-rock minimalism) that circle back to end with the melancholy lyricism that kicked it all off. Ancient Astronauts is a genuinely thrilling ride; strap in and brace yourself for liftoff.
Muse, Will of the People: they’re baaack!!!!!! And as usual, Matt Bellamy, Chris Wolstenholme and Dominic Howard earn every one of those exclamation points. The guitars and drums are turned up to 12, the classical keyboard licks pack double the bombast (including a Bach “Toccata and Fugue” steal), the electronica wallows in creepshow kitsch, the vacuum-packed harmonies are piled even higher, and the gang chants are bellowed louder than ever. All this sound and fury portrays a world on the brink, an elite obsessed with control, and a populace angry that the game is rigged. Still, it’s hard to know who Bellamy is rooting for; at times, his lyrics and driven singing seem equally repulsed by both the leaders (“Compliance”, Kill or Be Killed”) and the led (the title track and “Euphoria”). But in the end, this is quite the slamming album; if you’re in the mood for existential desperation set to one badass, air-guitarable riff and singalong chorus after another — and these days, who isn’t? — this just may be your ticket. Might want to only play that obscenity-laden final track when no one else is around, though.
Progarchy 