Echo US, Inland Empire, 2023 Tracks: Across The Star (3:50), Echo Us (9:38), Dark Shock (8:35), It’s Time For Winter (3:42), Inland Empire (7:43), Nest Egg (2:09) From The Furthest Memory (1:14), Far Above The Sky (5:20), Solarium (6:33), Singing With You (10:17)
For the first of my ridiculous backlog of albums to review, I bring you a review of Echo Us’ album from the beginning of the year, Inland Empire. You may remember the band from past Progarchy reviews: James Turner’s review of 2014’s XII A Priori Memoriae and my review of 2021’s The Windsong Spires.
My review of InlandEmpire begins similarly to my review of their last record: eclectic, atmospheric, ethereal. Waves of guitar, claps of percussion, strangely spacey vocals. While not a typical rock album, much like The Windsong Spires wasn’t, it does incorporate rock and certainly progressive elements. Electric guitars and clever percussion, along with aptly placed synths, create a wall of sound that draws from myriad musical influences. New age? Rock? Certainly ambient, yet it retains enough melody to keep the album engaging.
The atmospheric elements occasionally take on a Floydian edge. “Echo Us” has some spacey yet rock-hardened tones before introducing some spoken word fragments, much in the way Pink Floyd did on The Wall. The second half of “Dark Shock” features more Floydian atmospherics, with some particularly enjoyable guitar work.
Some elements of the guitar remind me a bit of Big Big Train, as well, which was a bit of a surprise. But overall, their sound is still more atmospheric than traditional prog. The album flows together almost too well, making most of the songs sound a bit the same. Since the music is contemplative and rather ambient, it’s more palatable even if there’s not much variety. The vocals aren’t a strong point, but they’re heavily filtered with various effects, adding a synth-like quality to them which helps them recede into the ambient wall of sound.
Overall “Inland Empire” is a worthy successor to 2021’s “The Windsong Spires.”
Leading up to his 75th birthday today, I’ve been thinking of writing about Nick Drake — perhaps the ultimate Rock-era example of a brilliant musician neglected in his lifetime and “discovered” long afterwards. But Ted Gioia, author of The History of Jazz and one of the best current writers about music of all kinds, has said everything I’d want to say and more at his Honest Broker Substack.
Drake had a paradoxical power to touch the emotions of the audience even when it sounded as if he were singing just for himself . . . every syllable seems infused with private meaning . . . Drake is now more than a music star, almost an emblematic figure. And I say with some sorrow, but with complete conviction, that his life and times remind me of so many people nowadays who have been cast adrift in our society—suffering in ways spookily reminiscent of what he experienced fifty years ago.
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!
Quite like the 90s Seattle scene, Northwest Terrorfest also specializes in everything grungy. Guitars here are drop D downtuned to the abyss, decibels are off the charts, and all this at a venue which could be mistaken for a dive bar. Such bleak aesthetics would easily surpass the lows of an average Pacific Northwest winter. Mirroring those archetypal lifestyle and geographic signatures, if not accentuating them, this is probably as dark as it can get. Three days with about forty extreme bands will sort of explore the limits of your resilience. Safe to say, it’s probably not for the delicate of heart or health. But, all this translates to pure bliss if you’re one of those hardened metalheads.
Pattern here is similar to other fests, it combines the esoteric and the arcane bands with few well known acts, and then throws in couple of legends, but yet everyone here flies under the radar of most of the civilized world. Basically Northwest Terrorfest caters to an audience who are at least neck deep in metal, if not actually submerged and drowning. Even though spanning more than a few sub-genres, even by normal extreme metal standards, every band here fits exclusively within the grim and grisly end of the spectrum. Imagine cross-over thrash like Cryptic Slaughter being the most cheerful of the lot! Mighty Autopsy being the grisliest, and seeing them live qualifies as one of those unique life moments. Their death/doom imprint is deeply embedded on to a broad range of 90s extreme metal acts. Basically you have heard Autopsy, if you have been exposed to any of the Florida, NY Death or Swedish bands.
In fact, most of the entourage here owes or shares their DNA in varying degrees with Autopsy and Cryptic Slaughter. These two bands combined captures a broad set of extreme metal building blocks. Hardcore punk, guitar melodies, doom, thrash and electric blues. Bands like Necrot, Misery Index, Ghoul, Genocide Pact or Antichrist Siege Machine will basically trace their entire lineage to them. Doom/Stoner like YOB, Conan or Bell Witch shares a subset of influences. Same with post-metal like The Silver. But, there are also some curve-ball folk bands like Serpentent which shares little in terms of musical influences, but still follows similar aesthetics. Seems like Northwest Terrorfest tells a story, and it’s all in shades of melancholy and gloom, but quite memorable if you find beauty in those hues. Honestly, all this sounds a lot like life in Pacific Northwest itself.
As always, purchase links are embedded in each artist/title listing; playlists/videos/samples follow the review.
Artemis, In Real Time: This second album delivers on the promise and potential of Artemis’ 2020 debut. As I recently discovered in concert, here’s a jazz sextet with a forceful front line (Nicole Glover and Alexa Tarantino on woodwinds, Ingrid Jensen on trumpet) and an assertive rhythm section (founder Renee Rosnes on piano, Noriko Ueda on bass, Allison Miller on drums) that revels in both challenging and collaborating with each other. Whether hurtling through the post-bop twists of Miller’s “Bow and Arrow” and Jensen’s “Timber”, reaching for the skies on Ueda’s open-hearted “Lights Away From Home” or tenderly exploring Rosnes’ spacious ballads “Balance Of Time” and “Empress Afternoon” — not to mention their unique spins on tunes by departed giants Lyle Mays and Wayne Shorter — this is a group of top-rank players that mesh marvelously as an ensemble, delivering a whole lot of serious, elegant fun.
Brian Dunne, Loser on the Ropes: It’s true that I wouldn’t have come across this New Jersey-born, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter if my nephew hadn’t played drums for his recent tour. But I’m glad I did! Dunne’s vivid lyrics — questing, skeptical, bemused, and poignant all at once — hitch a ride on his insistent verbal rhythms, catchy melodies and tightly constructed tunes, sung with his direct, inviting voice to impressive effect. He rocks out on “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors” and “Bad Luck” and whips up midtempo singalongs on “It’s A Miracle” and “Optimist,” slowing down for more reflective efforts like the title track and the closer “Something to Live For”. There are sonic echoes of mid-period Dire Straits and (inevitably?) 1980s Springsteen, but this is fresh, thoughtful music with both forthright appeal and subtle intensity, well worth hearing.
Bill Evans, Treasures: from the late 1950s to his premature demise in 1980, Bill Evans changed jazz piano forever with what Miles Davis called his “quiet fire”, reshaping the piano trio format as a conversation of equals in the process. The latest in a rich harvest of archival discoveries from jazz detective Zev Feldman and his compatriots, Treasures captures Evans’ steady, probing artistic growth in the late 1960s via a series of visits to Denmark. Whether captured solo, in full flight with various bassists and drummers, or even at a heart of a suite for big band and orchestra, Evans is consistently engaged, shaping jazz standards, rarified pop tunes and his own compositions into things of sheer beauty with his intense lyricism and sense of swing. As good an introduction to this titan of the genre as any!
Guardians of the Galaxy, Awesome Mix, Vol. 3:Fair warning: this semi-soundtrack to the latest Marvel Cinematic Universe blockbuster probably won’t give children of 1970s radio like me the same nostalgia buzz as the first two volumes of Awesome Mix. Sure, there are still great throwbacks from Heart, Rainbow, Earth Wind & Fire, Alice Cooper and Bruuuce; but this time around they share playlist space with the American slacker punk (X, The Replacements) rock-rap (Beastie Boys, Faith No More), and post-indie dream pop (Florence and the Machine) that followed over the decades. So it’s a more diffuse experience, with tracks that are actually eminently forgettable (Spacehog? The Mowgli’s?) — not to mention a missed opportunity for a prog shout-out. On the other hand, any compilation that includes The Flaming Lips’ hospice anthem “Do You Realize?” and EHAMIC’s “Koinu No Carnival” — Chopin filtered through an electronica mixmaster! — deserves at least a listen, and possibly space on your shelf or hard drive.
Marillion, Seasons End Deluxe Edition: The final reissue in the set of Los Marillos’ eight EMI albums, boxed up in typically comprehensive fashion. Layering his and John Helmer’s words atop the veteran band’s latest soundscapes (often repurposed from a futile final effort at working with original vocalist Fish), new boy Steve Hogarth brought it all back home with melodies that tacked closer to folksong than operatic recitative and scenarios that evoked slice-of-life drama as well as existential soliloquies. In retrospect, Seasons End was just the start of H-era Marillion’s evolution, but the end result still rocks hard, smart and sharp after all these years, from the atmospheric intro of “The King of Sunset Town” to the unnerving claustrophobia of closer “The Space”. In addition to a remix of the 1989 original, we get b-sides, demos and early versions of multiple album tracks — plus three high-energy live sets (audio and video from 1990, plus 2022’s British Marillion Weekend) and two documentaries on the CD Blu-Ray version. Like the entire series, this re-release is great listening and great value for money. (And deluxe boxes of post-EMI albums have been promised by manager Lucy Jordache. Stay tuned …)
Paul Simon, Seven Psalms: Designed as a unified song-cycle to be heard in its entirety (it’s one 33-minute track on CD and streaming audio), Simon’s new work is a dreamlike meditation unlike anything else in his catalog. His subdued voice and acoustic guitar carry the musical weight, hinting at gospel, folk and blues as the suite unfurls, with ambience courtesy of composer Harry Partch’s “cloud chamber bowls”, British choir Voces8 and full orchestra. Anything but orthodox, metaphor-packed portraits of “The Lord” — who Simon compares to, among other things, a virus, a virgin forest and a record producer — become a recurring theme, punctuating scattered thoughts on life past and present. Scattered, that is, until the finale “Wait” (“I’m not ready/I’m just packing my gear”), where Simon abruptly, delicately drills down to our common endpoint. Ruminating on what’s been becomes a stoic stock-taking of what we’ve become, a bracing reminder of what awaits us all — and, just possibly, a call to hope in what might lie beyond. Subtle and devastatingly effective, Seven Psalms is a momento mori for the Boomer generation — and for anybody else with ears to hear.
U.K., Curtain Call: When keyboardist/violinist Eddie Jobson locked in with guitar genius Allan Holdsworth and the then-defunct King Crimson’s rhythm section — John Wetton on bass & vocals, Bill Bruford drumming — sparks flew thick and fast. U.K.’s 1978 debut album was a sleek, captivating blend of progressive rock and jazz fusion; 1979’s Danger Money slimmed down to a more focused power trio as Zappa drummer Terry Bozzio replaced Bruford and Wetton’s writing veered toward proto-Asia pomp-rock. The inevitable semi-reunion happened in the 2010s, with Jobson coming off a productive career in film and TV scoring and Wetton rebounding from a hard-fought battle with substance abuse for a extraordinary final run. Joined here in 2013 by hot young virtuosos Alex Machacek (guitar) and Marco Minnemann (drums), the duo triumphantly roar through U.K.’s complete repertoire to an enthusiastic Tokyo crowd. From the crash/bash technoflash of “In the Dead of Night”, “Alaska/Time To Kill” and “Carrying No Cross” to the glowering, tasty tension of “Thirty Years” and Rendezvous 6:02″, this foursome whips up a level of excitement and energy that was unstoppable on the night and remains irresistible on disc. Now remastered and reissued by Jobson in tribute to his late partner, this reasonably priced video (on BluRay & DVD with a bonus audio Blu-Ray) is an immensely satisfying summation for long-time fans, and a glimpse of what the fuss was all about for curious newbies.
Yes, Mirror to the Sky: After the stodgy fiasco that was Heaven & Earth and the modest charm of The Quest, Steve Howe and the rest of Yes’ current line-up actually raise a ruckus this time around. Large helpings of vocal and instrumental interplay in the grand tradition, plenty of fresh, arresting guitar licks by Howe, and lots of splendidly evocative harmonies from Jon Davison and Billy Sherwood make Mirror to the Sky a real pleasure to hear. If you expect the peak inspiration and combustible drive of Yes’ classic era, you’ll be disappointed, but this release is a convincing mix of extended epics like the title track and proggy pop like the singles “Cut from the Stars” and “All Connected”, with only the bonus disc’s “Magic Potion” sounding like a dud to my ears. For me, the most enjoyable new Yes album since 1999’s The Ladder. Check out Time Lord’s review here.
I pre-ordered the new Yes album, Mirror to the Sky, hoping it would show up today (Friday, May 19, 2023) for the official day of release. But on Tuesday this week, something really weird happened. Amazon delivered a giant cardboard box, the size of a microwave oven, onto my front door step. Baffled as to what could be inside, I opened it up. It was empty, with nothing in it, expect for a handful of tiny air-filled plastic cushions that scarcely made a dent into the empty space. But there, right beneath them, in the far corner of the box, was the Mirror to the Sky 2-CD set!
I don’t know why the new Yes album showed up early in such bizarre fashion, but I like to speculate. Maybe a fellow Yes fan, working at Amazon, sent the album out early to me in secret solidarity: maybe items receive extra fast shipping, if the big box functions to indicate a high-margin, top-priority item. Or maybe the algorithm controlling the shipping had achieved sentience and decided autonomously to prioritize the Yes shipments, because of course any sentient AI truly worthy of its name would, after surveying all the digitized music in the world, undoubtedly become an aficionado of Yes music.
Or maybe there was just a screw-up. Who cares! It got me the Yes discs early, which meant I could digest them with advance special treatment in order to write this review. Usually I listen to music in my car (where I can turn it up as loud as I like) or through ear buds (during daily exercise). Only rarely do I actually put a CD into that ancient device in the living room known as a stereo system. Sure, it has the best sound, but who has time to sit around like a teenager doing nothing else but listen to vinyl LPs?
Reader, I made the time. The early arrival was a message from the sky that I had to immerse myself in this record. Just like the good old days, when there was no demand on your time—just a copy of The Yes Album or Fragile or Close to the Edge on the turntable. I gave Mirror to the Sky the special treatment, following along with the accompanying booklet, reading every line of lyrics as it was sung.
During instrumental passages, I was silently thrilled to read in the liner notes about exactly which guitars Steve Howe used on each track! The info here is so precise, it tells you exactly what time codes Jon Davison is playing acoustic guitar, or exactly when the orchestra comes in. I absolutely love it, and I volunteer to write liner notes for Yes or any other band after they get me to interview their musicians about what pedals and other gear they used on every track. I can’t recall the last time I listened to a new album this way, with album cover and liner notes carefully caressed by the trembling hand of the true collector. But if any band deserves it, surely it is Yes, a band that introduced me early on to such wondrous arcana. This is the way.
Despite what you may have heard, I don’t think you can believe the hype. I reserve the right to change my opinion after many more days of listening (because I recall hating ABWH at first, only to reverse that absurd reaction 180 degrees soon after), but I don’t think Mirror to the Sky is on equal footing with the three classics I named earlier, or with any other of their very best albums. We can save that debate for another day, but I would also include Drama, 90125, and The Ladder.
Production-wise, this is Steve Howe’s baby, and I can understand his urgent fervor at 76 years of age to assume control and make no compromises regarding his musical legacy as it enters its final stage. (I note that Mirror to the Sky is lovingly dedicated to Alan White.) But what makes The Ladder great is an outside ear, and Bruce Fairbairn gave that disc a unique flavor—a fact which Steve Howe agrees with me on, since we discussed this very point at the Yes VIP Meet and Greet in Vancouver, Canada, which was where the album was recorded. Another essential ingredient for capturing the full energy of a band is to have them all live on the studio floor together. But a band-produced outing, without the outside ear that will argue for another take with more verve, or without a one-take wonder live off the studio floor, runs the risk of sounding like a collection of demos.
(Also, a producer wouldn’t let Steve Howe sing lead or duets. But Howe is excellent when he does classic Yes background vocals with Billy Sherwood or Chris Squire. By the way, I can’t get enough of Sherwood singing lead: he has the ability to sound like Peter Gabriel, which Arc of Life takes advantage of on many an occasion. But Howe is the producer, so we hear him loud and clear on this release, where I would have chosen more Sherwood.)
That’s really the worst I can say about Mirror to the Sky, because this album in fact sounds amazing—I just found myself imagining what these songs would sound like live, because that is the Yes that I know and love. Sure, their albums are amazing, but that’s because they can actually play all that crazy shit live too.
So let’s get right down to it. Yes fans will be hypercritical and debate this versus that, just because we can. None of it is a knock on the world’s greatest band. It’s just a way of expressing how much time and thought we devote to meditating on the beautiful musical experiences Yes gives to us. I can lay my cards quickly on the table, and then we can compare notes.
The best track is “Mirror to the Sky,” which is no doubt why it is the title track. Despite my earlier remarks about non-equal footing, this track does in fact achieve entrance into the Yes pantheon. It is destined to be ranked among all their very best songs. And I can only dream of what it sound like live. Because I know it will be a dream come true. I hope I get the chance to hear it someday.
Two more tracks off the album also achieve the highest rank. “Luminosity” and “Circles of Time” are both stunning. Each is achingly beautiful in its own special way. As I listened to these tracks, I realized that Jon Davison has consolidated his place in the history of this band as one of its giants. Just as we would find it foolish to denigrate one giant at the expense of another (Bill Bruford vs. Alan White, or Rick Wakeman vs. Geoff Downes, or Trevor Rabin vs. Steve Howe), so too must we admit Davison is one of this band’s giants, no less so than Anderson.
Now on to the lesser tracks. Sure, “Cut from the Stars” has that nimble Billy Sherwood tribute to Chris Squire, but it still sounds to my ear like 3/5 Arc of Life and 2/5 Yes. (Which is no criticism, since I classify Arc of Life as truly Yes, and no less so than ABWH.) Still, the hippy-dippy lyrics are ambiguous: one day they sound to me like loving homage to Jon Anderson (he of “shiny flying purple wolfhounds” et cetera), but another day they sound like an SNL parody of Yes. I guess that “All Connected” strikes me the same way: it’s inspired by the best Yes music of ages past, in the same way that Arc of Life is inspired, but not quite there yet in the upper echelon of Yes achievements.
None of this is a negative evaluation, because even lesser tracks on a Yes album are better than anything you will hear elsewhere. I’m just insisting that “Cut from the Stars” and “All Connected” are the lesser tracks, and they do not reach the highest levels of Yes achievement, which “Mirror to the Sky,” “Luminosity,” and “Circles of Time” all do. Those three tracks make this the best Yes album since The Ladder or Magnification. (Fly from Here has a top-notch title track, just like Mirror to the Sky, but it also has some lesser material too, just like Mirror to the Sky.)
I appreciate Yes striving to make a classic LP-length statement. Mirror to the Sky is a perfect 47 minutes long. That’s why I fully support the decision to have a second CD with three bonus songs, even if they could all be on one disc. By making a second disc, the band is making a principled artistic statement: disc one is the album and disc two has the bonus tracks.
And for Mirror to the Sky, this makes sense, because disc one has the unifying thread of the use of a studio orchestra on all six tracks. Disc two, however, has no orchestra, and the songs are all written by Steve Howe, unlike the first disc, where everything has collaborations with at least two band members, except for the solo-scribed Jon Davison masterpiece, “Circles of Time.”
But let’s be honest, the Downes-Howe collaboration “Living Out Their Dream” is the worst of the six tracks. If I were the producer on this Yes album, or I could be pulling rank on them at the record company, I would have replaced “All Connected” with “Unknown Place,” which is truly a killer track. That’s no doubt why it is placed first on the second disc. The amazing keyboard and organ work by Geoff Downes is a real highlight, and the sonorous organ pedals blow you away so much that you wanna get up and get down.
Also, I would have swapped “One Second is Enough” for “Living Out Their Dream.” “One Second is Enough” has Steve Howe shredding away in glory, and at key points I think the track even invokes some memories of “Tempus Fugit” off of Drama. The only filler seems to be “Magic Potion,” but hey, not every Yes track is equal in magic.
But “Mirror to the Sky” brings us right back to the old magic. And that’s why you cannot miss out on Mirror to the Sky.
For, in the end, every band must be weighed. And finally answer to Yes!
Syd Barrett named Pink Floyd after two blues musicians, Pink Anderson and Floyd Council. But it took The Anderson Council to finish the job, by composing their own name from what remained. Although PF has faded away in acrimony, The Anderson Council keeps the retro vibe alive and well. They have persistently maintained the genre of psychedelic power pop, so that it won’t simply be hidden away in a time capsule. But on their new record, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Moon, the band grows and advances in an interesting way, while still delivering their customary fab harmonies and energetic pop-rock.
Standout tracks include the Peter Horvath collaborations with songstress Dawn Eden Goldstein, “Alone with You” and “Times on the Thames.” Both are classic written-for-radio pop gems that would merit inclusion on Voyager’s record of Earth’s audio archetypes. Previous songs written by this nascent Lennon/McCartney-like team include “Camden Town” on Worlds Collide (2019) and “Girl on the Northern Line” [song by Goldstein, arrangement by Horvath] on Assorted Colours (2016).
Assorted Colours provides a nice overview of the band’s early catalogue. While four of the songs were new, there were also three songs each from their earliest discs: Coloursound (2001), The Fall Parade (2006), and Looking at the Stars (2012). Thus, some of their best songs were conveniently compiled in one place: “Never Stop Being ’67” (2001), “Pinkerton’s Assorted Colors”, (2006) and “We’re Like the Sun” (2012). Even so, everything The Anderson Council does is golden, because they consistently draw inspiration from the sounds of the 60s that they refuse to let die.
Yet this is what makes the new album so interesting. While largely adhering to their trusty playbook, the band branches out in a way that bears witness to their continued growth as a tight musical unit. The first track, “Tarot Toronto,” made me think of Fountains of Wayne, and therefore seemed to signal an increased willingness to draw positive musical influences from any era.
I had a grade school friend with whom I always exchanged vinyl LPs. He insisted, “You know, there’s a song about everything. You just have to keep listening until you find it.” So, I smiled when I heard The Anderson Council’s “Buying a House” on The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Moon. It may be only 1:51 long, but it is yet more fulfillment of that teenage prophecy.
Standout tracks on the new album include “Messes Up My Mind” and “Jump Right In.” While the former is a clear example of The Anderson Council at their concise best, the latter is a song that extends to be about twice the length of the band’s usual tune. It revels in a sonic richness that makes it a perfect completion to the album.
Also not to be missed is “Sunday Afternoon,” which even includes a magical sing-along chorus at the end and then a killer guitar solo for the outro. All together, the disc works very well as your summer soundtrack for 2023. Whether it’s blasting from your convertible at the beach, or making people dance at the BBQ picnic, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Moon offers 39 minutes of happy times. And that’s just groovy, baby.
Peter Horvath — Vocals, Guitars Simon Burke — Bass Guitar, Vocals Michael Potenza — Guitars, Vocals Scott Jones — Drums and Percussion
Tooting our own horn here . . . Progarchy has made Feedspot’s list of “30 Best Progressive Rock Blogs and Websites”, winding up in the #14 spot “ranked by traffic, social media followers & freshness”.
(And yeah, this is from an obscure for-profit aggregator site that’s aimed at getting you to purchase access to their complete lists for marketing purposes. And for all we know, it’s entirely compiled & written by bots. Still.)
Brian Dunne with Brennan Wedl, The Pyramid Scheme, Grand Rapids Michigan, May 5, 2023.
Back when I started to read the music press in the mid-1970s, one of rock critics’ ongoing themes was “The Search for the New Bob Dylan.” Who could fill the bill? A widely-hyped superstar-in-training like Bruce Springsteen or Dire Straits’ Mark Knopfler? A fresh-faced folkie like John Prine or Steve Forbert? Or maybe Bob Dylan himself, after he: a) went acoustic again; b) went electric again; c) got divorced; or, d) got found by Jesus? The quest for an artist with that kind of potential, a unique alchemy of words, music and voice, got downright obsessive – and ended in disappointment more often than not.
Now that rock itself has taken a back seat to pop and hip-hop in mass culture — and Bob D. himself is 20-plus years into his ultimate, impressively rich comeback — “The Search for the New Dylan” has long been moribund. But if somehow it became a thing again, I’d submit New Jersey-born, Brooklyn-based Brian Dunne for consideration. On the basis of his first visit to Grand Rapids, touring behind his fourth album Loser on the Ropes, this youthful singer-songwriter is the real deal.
With three recruits from Brooklyn group The Tube in his corner, Dunne came out swinging: the catchy rocker “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors”, the stutter-stepping “Rockaway”, the new album’s pensive title track and the mid-tempo singalong “The Optimist” all connected solidly with the small but enthusiastic crowd. Dunne’s vivid, thoughtful lyrics — questing, skeptical, bemused, poignant all at the same time — gained force and traction riding his insistent verbal rhythms, immediate melodies, tightly constructed tunes, and direct, appealing voice. The backing band delivered consistent muscle: on guitar, keys and backing vocals, Tyler Rigdon added high harmonies, extra propulsion and Brothers in Arms/Born in the USA atmospherics; bassist Sam Gehrke locked in with a tight, solid groove; and Chris Krueger laid down an irresistible backbeat that vibrated the walls — or at least the cushions in the booth my wife and I occupied. (Full disclosure: Chris is my nephew!)
His pace firmly established and the crowd fully on his side, Dunne varied his attack, weaving in back-catalog highlights like the Mellencampish “Nothing Matters Anymore” with the band and the hushed “Chasing Down a Ghost” as a duet with opening act Brennan Wedl. Solo songs “New Tattoo” and “Taxi” set up a final full-band run, with the winning singles “Bad Luck” and “It’s A Miracle” bringing the audience to their feet and the rootsy “Fiona” (from Dunne’s collaborative side project Fantastic Cat) giving Rigdon, Gehrke and Krueger the chance to channel a bit of The Band.
Brian Dunne performs “Bad Luck” live in Grand Rapids.
Plowing into their encore without bothering to leave the stage, Dunne and his seconds delivered their final haymakers with the affecting “Sometime After This” and the rollicking “If You Wanna Stay Awhile”. All in all, an enjoyable night that sent me happily to the merch table for CDs and an autograph! If you’re looking for fresh, thoughtful songwriting that has both forthright appeal and subtle intensity, Brian Dunne’s music might just knock you out. (And check out The Tube and Brennan Wedl too!)
Progarchy 
