Cosmic Cathedral’s Phil Keaggy: The Progarchy Interview

On By kruekuttIn Insideout Music, Neal Morse, progressive rockLeave a comment

For more than 50 years, guitarist/singer/songwriter Phil Keaggy has pursued his singular muse. Cruising under the radar of the general public and fashionable tastemakers, Keaggy’s reputation among fellow musicians and knowledgeable fans is deservedly stellar; his formidable skills in acoustic fingerpicking, stinging electric solo work, and free-flowing improv are complemented by a tasty melodic sense, a impressively broad spectrum of influences, and a singing voice that can’t help but remind you of Paul McCartney at his most yearning and wistful. His lengthly discography of first-rate albums under his own name speaks for itself.

But Phil Keaggy truly loves nothing more than collaborations – with other singers, full bands, duets, trios, ambient players, jazzers, jammers, proggers and even poets, well-known and unknown – and his latest project testifies to that. Recruited by the ever-prolific Neal Morse to join forces with ace bassist Byron House and live Genesis drummer Chester Thompson, Keaggy’s playing and singing is all over Deep Water, Cosmic Cathedral’s “prog meets yacht rock” debut on Inside Out. In advance of that album’s release this week, I had the privilege of connecting with Phil in his Nashville studio to talk about both this latest project and his eclectic career. A transcript of our interview follows the video.

So congratulations on Cosmic Cathedral’s first album!

Yeah, maybe there’ll be another album after this, yeah. 

That would be really great.

So have you had a chance to listen to it, Rick?

I have, and I really did enjoy it. And we will certainly have some conversations about that as we go on.  But the first question I kind of wanted to set up, because as I mentioned, I’ve known your work for a number of years, and you’ve had this amazingly prolific and varied career. But just on the off chance that there’s someone who picks up this album and someone says, who’s this Phil Keaggy guy? How would you describe your life in music to somebody who hasn’t necessarily heard much of what you’ve done?

Well, I started out making records when I was just in eighth, ninth grade. And then I formed a band eventually, called Glass Harp, in 1968.  And we recorded for Decca Records. We did three records and one live album. None of them did that well, but we were popular in the northeastern Ohio area – Cleveland, Akron, Columbus, Pittsburgh, especially.  We did a West Coast tour in ‘71. We used to go up to Detroit a lot and play. We opened up for a lot of big bands like Humble Pie and Yes, Chicago, Grand Funk, etc.

But then I left the band and I started making albums that centered upon my faith and communicating my faith in Jesus. And so to the world, I became kind of lost to the world of music. And then when I got signed to Christian record labels, they really didn’t know exactly what to do with me because I wasn’t in the center of what CCM music was, contemporary Christian music.  I was a bit more adventurous. I was a bit more guitar oriented and not so much songwriting oriented, even though I wrote songs. And so I was too religious for the world and too worldly for the religious.

So that’s why 99 percent of the world has no idea who I am. And so, it doesn’t offend me, doesn’t bother me. It’s just the path that I’ve been on all my life.  But I’ve met up with some great players. I’ve had a chance to play with giants like Neal Morse, Tony Levin, Jerry Marotta, Byron House, Chester Thompson, and even jammed with Paul McCartney one time. So, I’ve had great highlights in my life.

But the greatest highlight is knowing God through his Son, Jesus, and also being married to a wonderful woman for almost 52 years. And we’ve got kids that have grown up and who love us. Yeah, I don’t think I feel like I suffer from any lack of anything, especially because of the love that I’ve known in my life, love of family, friends, and the love of music.

I hear that testimony, and that’s a wonderful thing to hear. In your life in music, as you’ve noted, you seem to be kind of a musician’s musician. You collaborate with a lot of people who maybe have a higher profile.  And as you say, Neal Morse is one of those talents. How did the two of you hook up originally? And what’s your history together been like?

Well, our history has been very sparse, in fact. But we did meet back at the time he did this album called One.  And he invited me because he knew of my albums, like Sunday’s Child, which is a very British rock kind of sounding album, Crimson and Blue, which was a real fun jam album with really good players on it.  In fact, John Sferra from Glass Harp played drums on that album. And also I’ve had a life of acoustic music with Beyond Nature and various albums like that.

But I think he liked the idea of the two of us singing on something together. And so I sang a little bit, “Cradle to the Grave”, “What is Life”, that George Harrison song with him. I played guitar solo on the tune called “Creation”.  And then we kind of got out of touch for many a year.

And then all of a sudden about a year and a half ago, he contacts me about the possibility of getting together with Chester Thompson and Byron House, who I’ve been in the studio with.   Chester played on my All at Once album.  And I did an album with Byron House and another friend of ours, Kyle Jones, who’s a percussionist/drummer on an album called Catz’n’Jammuz; it’s basically an improv album. So in the past, I’ve worked with all three of these good men, these good musicians, great musicians.

And so when he invited us all to join him at his studio in White House, I’d say it was about January 2024.  We just jammed and his co-producer/engineer Jerry [Guidroz], recorded everything. And some of those songs that ended up on Deep Water, the album [by] Cosmic Cathedral, were inspired by some of those jams. And then they further developed, Neal primarily arranging and developing the songs.

I helped out with the lyrics of “Walking in Daylight”, and I sang it. Actually, I proposed a vocal to it as an idea.  But I was surprised he left my vocal on the album, as a lead vocal. And that was pretty cool.

But they gave me a lot of space to play on the album.  I had ample opportunity to express myself on my electric guitar.  At that time, last fall, I did a lot of the guitar work in my own studio, because when they tracked this album in July last summer, I had just been through hand surgery. I had trigger thumb and finger, and they cut open my hand, and I was in a cast for three weeks. And so there was just no way.

But by the end of September and early October, I started getting on the guitar. And they sent me the files. They said, “hey, want to try playing on something?” And I played on a section of the “Deep Water Suite” I played a little bit of acoustic on it, and I sang. He asked me to sing on that.

That’s the first thing Neal invited me to do. I did it in my studio here. And then at the end, [sings the line] And then I did this electric thing, and that was the very first time I played on a recording for Neal.

And then they sent me “The Heart of Life”, the opening track. I spent a lot of time just learning the licks and the riffs and the changes, and then they had these beautiful open spaces for me to solo. There are two major solos in that song, and that was when I thought, even though it’s painful to play, I really dug in.  And the second solo, which is after the part when he sings about, “I thought of God as Captain Bligh”.

That’s my favorite line on that album.

I know, it stands out, doesn’t it, Rick?

It’s just so off the wall, and yet it fits perfectly.

And it’s so ominous. It’s so ominous in this section. And then when I heard that, and then there’s this big space, and I opened up my solo with this note that I reversed.  So it kind of creaks in, and then all of a sudden, I go into this Allan Holdsworth kind of mode on the tone, even though I can’t play all those licks that Allan does. But I’ve always honored his guitar playing, always thought he was a genius and a great inspiration to that feeling you get when it doesn’t sound like a typical guitar solo, and that’s what I wanted to do.

And I love also the different modes, because I’ve been influenced by various music from other cultures.  It doesn’t matter, anywhere on the earth, if it’s good, I love it. Bulgarian, Indian, Chinese, Middle Eastern, South American, Irish. I love the gifts that God gives to people all around the world musically.

So that kind of comes out here and there. And so when I did the five albums with Jeff Johnson, we’ve got one called Ravenna, which is inspired by the art in Italy, and Cappadocia, which is inspired by perhaps the region of Turkey; the Frio Suite album, which was inspired by the Frio River in Texas, and so on and so forth.

This newest one called Spinning on a Cosmic Dime, I mentioned to Neal, I said, you know, my last album out with Jeff Johnson has the word “cosmic” in it. He never mentioned anything about it. So everybody’s getting into a cosmic kind of mood, aren’t they? Cosmic dime, Cosmic cathedral.  Maybe somebody ought to come up with an album called Cosmic Capers.  That would be kind of interesting.

Who knows, that one might be next. So I’m hearing you say that you get a lot of your vocabulary on guitar from folk, from modal cultures.  What are some of the other sources of your style? It’s very unique, and yet you can tell there’s a lot behind it.

Yeah, a lot of years, a lot of playing, a lot of listening, a lot of appreciation. And of course, with the level of artistic giftings that Neal Morse has and the other fellas, Chester and Byron, elevates my desire to play well, really something that must really fit and belong to the essence of this creativity.

So yeah, I just feel that because of all the years we’ve all listened to music, we just want it to be done really, really well. Not just a quick building that was erected, but as beautiful as a cathedral. And it’s ominous, you know what I’m saying?

Yes, yes, that sort of over-towering feel.  It’s like when Jacob wakes up from the dream at Bethel, and he says, how awesome or how terrible is this place, depending on what translation you use.

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, it’s interesting because I was not sure I was even going to be on the album because of my hand situation.  I didn’t know how long it was going to set me back. I always look at those three guys as they are the cathedral, and I’m this little chapel over to the right.

Oh, okay.

You know, a little chap. Yes. “Hello, you’re just a little chap, aren’t you?” I’m a chapel.

But because they are the foundation, you know, they are truly the foundation of this, all three of them in sync, you know, as strong as Cream was or as strong as Emerson Lake and Palmer, a threesome. And I feel like I’m on this album by invitation, for sure.

Okay.  Chester and Byron’s groove. It’s very different than most people would think of when they think of prog rock.   

Exactly. 

It does seem like there’s so much, like you say, not just space for solos, but there’s space in the beat they generate. What’s it like playing over that groove?

Well, that’s what got me excited. I didn’t know what to expect when they first sent me the files, you know.  The first file was “Fires of the Sunrise” and then “The Heart of Life”. And I was able to just sit back and listen to it. And first of all, I was blown away by the fidelity, blown away by the expertise of these guys on their instruments.  And I thought, man, this is a dream to be able to play on something like this.

Yeah, the intensity, the quality, like you mentioned, there’s a different groove going on from what people would consider prog rock, which I oftentimes think of prog rock as kind of mechanical sometimes.  It’s just kind of intellectual, cerebral, you know, right brain to the nth. But the thing is, what Chester brings into with Byron is this sense of soul.

So I think they influenced Neal and how Neal played himself.  I mean, on “Time to Fly”, for instance, it just sounds like a Steely Dan thing, Great horn. He knew what he was going for and he got it with the horn player, the sax player, the BGVs [background vocals], which has that what Donald Fagen would do.

And just the fact that there’s a nice amount of space.  It’s not just constant noise; it’s not just music that just kind of like can get irritating after a while. I mean, there’s a couple of places where it does sound a little bit like a video game to me. But that’s tongue in cheek almost, isn’t it? Yeah.

It’s deliberately over the top.

Yes. But then it gets into some fantastic grooves, you know, the kind of stuff you want to play over.  You just have to play over, you know. And so they gave me a lot of nice space to play. In fact, one of the sections, “New Revelation”, I think it was, I played a solo and then Jerry said, “we’re going to extend the solo a number of measures longer.  Would you mind playing some more?” [Both laugh] I go, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Twist my arm. You know, sure.  I’d be happy to.”  And then we went back and forth and they actually, toward the end of it — because I liked one solo and Jerry liked this other one. So what he ended up doing was he put toward the end of the solo, both of my guitar solos going on.  OK. And you know what I’m talking about?

Yeah, I do. That was like “And now, in stereo!”

Yeah. Yeah.  Yeah, that’s right. And that was that was great. It’s like, why not? You know, it’s like — what was that McCartney song? “Rockshow”.

Yeah. You know, it’s kind of like let everybody join in, you know, but it was just primarily the four of us, you know.  They had tasty percussion on it, too. And as I mentioned, the BGVs and the horns well, added a really nice touch to everything.

Neal has so many ideas. He is so prolific.  You and he are a really good match instrumentally, certainly. Are there any other moments we’ve talked about like “Time to Fly”?  We’ve talked about the opening track. We’ve talked about those two spots in the “Deep Water” suite.  Is there anything else that you recollect as being a special favorite of yours from the process?

I love the closing. “Heaven is opened.”

Yeah.

Opening “The Door to Heaven”. What is it called?

I do not recollect. But yes, that’s the gist of it.

You know, the piece starts beautifully. And I was influenced by Anthony Phillips.

Oh, OK.  The Genesis guy.

The Genesis guy. And when I did my album, The Master and the Musician in 1978, he was, [his] album was on my turntable a lot, you know.

Oh, OK.

He and [British guitarist] John Renbourn were real influences to me.  [That part of the suite is] just so pretty.

And the way it develops, you know. “You’re the water, the deepest place I know”. Neal has me singing that latter part of it because he said, “I can’t reach those notes.  I thought you could”. And it pushed me. It modulates to another higher key before the very ending.

And then you got that “big life” which sounds like a chorus of voices. That’s the payoff. That whole ending is just so powerful to the the epic piece.  I think the ending is epic and powerful. It’s spiritual. It’s musical.  It’s fulfilling. But but I love every song. I mean, every song holds its own, even the ballad.  “I Won’t Make It” that Neal wrote with the strings in it. And yeah, it’s just an honest — it’s like Emerson Lake and Palmer’s “Oh, what a lucky man he was”. For a prog guy into to create such an honest and beautiful melodic piece like that. That’s a really sweet place where it sits in the album, too. So, yeah, what a great album.

[After the jump: Phil Keaggy tells how his wildest dream came true, muses on Cosmic Cathedral playing live, and reflects on his power trio improv album with Tony Levin & Jerry Marotta.]

Continue reading “Cosmic Cathedral’s Phil Keaggy: The Progarchy Interview” →

Prog matinee idols

On By alisonscolumnIn progressive rockLeave a comment

While proggers on Cruise to the Edge were taking advantage of some shore leave in Puerto Plata, something was stirring a 12 hour flight away in one of London’s most perpetually hip and happening quarters.

Camden has long been famous for its eclectic, diverse music clubs and venues, as well as its ever-packed market by the Regents Canal. Its most famous venue is the legendary Roundhouse, a former railway engine shed, where, once upon a time, The Doors made of one of their only two British appearances.

Opposite this iconic edifice is the smaller, intimate Camden Club, which is gaining momentum as a regular haunt for capital-based Prog fans.

The gatherings are organised by London Prog Gigs, a hard-working, dedicated group of volunteers who put on regular concerts and festivals at a handful of venues in north London, as well as organising the annual Prog Walk. This is when a group of seasoned music fans enjoy a leisurely afternoon stroll along a section of the nine mile long Regents Canal, which winds through north London. Without this group, it would be hard to imagine Prog finding a regular presence in the Metropolis.

Speaking of afternoons, this particular gig at the Camden Club is a matinee, designed to attract prog fans not just from London but also further afield so they do not struggle home late evening having missed either the final song or the last train.

This matinee concept is also ideal for some of the regular bands on the British circuit to showcase their music, especially when there’s a new album to promote.

It was a double bill made in Prog heaven when Ghost of the Machine, an upcoming band based in Yorkshire teamed up with the remarkably named Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate for a joint album launch.

Musically, the bands complement each other beautifully. GOTM occupy the dramatic, darker chambers as exemplified by their second album, the cinematic concept-driven Empires Must Fall.

It’s fair to say HOGIA are the Prog equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. Edgy, eloquent, articulate and often eccentric, the new album The Uncertainty Principle is named after German quantum physicist Werner Heisenberg’s existential theory that the position and the velocity of an object cannot both be measured exactly, at the same time. They apply this principle to interpersonal uncertainty in some of their songs.

Debut

Making their London debut, GOTM comprise five seasoned former members of This Winter Machine who are fronted by the very lively, personable cherubic faced vocalist/flautist Charlie Bramald. Charlie is a fast emerging new star who has already appeared on as many other people’s albums as he has with his own band.

With a background in drama as well as music, he is not adverse to donning a cape and throwing some shapes when the parts absolutely demand it.

Primer

Today, Bramald is more sombrely attired but in ebullient mood when he and HOGIA’s multi-instrumentalist/composer Malcolm Galloway start the matinee with a light-hearted Q&A session. The iconic venue across the street is mentioned in passing and questions touch on their respective songwriting processes. With around 120 Prog fans present, it’s a great primer for what’s to come.

GOTM take the stage first and literally gallop through the new album, the follow-up to their 2022 debut Scissorgames that carries on the main theme of tyranny and ultimately, redemption.

Beginning with the punchy, hard-hitting opener Keepers of the Light, GOTM are indeed a well-oiled machine, at the band’s heart, the muscular rhythm section comprising the metronomic drummer Andy Milner and the behatted bassist Stuart McAuley.

Over this, dual lead guitarists Scott Owens and Graham Garbett, together with keyboards player Mark Hagan weave the instrumental magic and intrigue, leaving Bramald to relay the compelling stories.

Most intriguing is the swirling Panopticon, (a circular prison) one of the central songs, its intro section Real Eyes seeing Hagan coming to the fore. Bramald’s thoughtful lyrics include the line: “It’s only in the dark where we truly see ourselves”.

There’s an air of uncertainty and reflection exuding throughout Falling Through Time, heightened by its choppy staccato beat.

Gem

The shortest song The One, the first single released not surprisingly on 1st January 2025 is a little prog gem into which so much is packed into under five minutes, from the compulsive rhythm and Bramald’s stream of consciousness singing to the soaring synth solo and rapier-sharp riffs.

They end with the epic After The War, a magnum opus comprising six movements including the resonant guitars of the instrumental sections The Bells and later Sorrow In The Silence. Again, Bramald shows himself to be the consummate storyteller.

Accessible, enjoyable and entertaining, they really should be considered for a future Cruise to the Edge, Bramald’s engaging, expressive personality guaranteed to win over many new followers as he leads the line in one of the UK’s current “must see (and hear)” bands.

HOGIA occupy a unique space in the Prog universe, Galloway and Mark Gatland, his long time friend, musical collaborator and ever-animate, sometimes leaping bassist, conjuring up some compelling soundscapes that hint at Porcupine Tree, Radiohead, Pink Floyd and King Crimson.

Majestic

However, from the outset with the album’s often bleak opener Certainty, they’re a band who happily defy comparisons, making their own majestic, multi-layered sound.

The convergence of history and outcomes is brilliantly expressed in One Word That Means The World, inspired by the refusal of Soviet naval officer Vasily Arkhipov to agree to an action during the Cuban missile crisis that could have led to nuclear war. Galloway’s plaintive questioning voice rings out especially during the lines: “I didn’t know what was inside, I found out when I said no.”

And you thought The Hunt For Red October was purely a work of fiction!

In complete contrast, the brief instrumental The Ultraviolet Catastrophe races along before Copenhagen hits the sweet spot of the album’s concept, inspired by a meeting between quantum physicist Niels Bohr and Heisenberg, his friend and former student in September 1941 in Copenhagen.

Galloway’s haunted vocals offers insights into the uncertain nature of this meeting and what outcome was reached during their discussions.

Meditation

Between Two Worlds is their most beautiful song this afternoon, Galloway’s emotional vocals and piano offer a meditation on those he knows and loves living with cancer and the MRI scans they have undergone to discover if the disease has spread. Galloway, a retired neuropathologist, has also been candid about his ongoing health issues and you feel some of his personal uncertainty is embedded in here.

The Light of Ancient Mistakes has them in ambient, languid Floydian mood, this the title track of their previous album, again with a very intricate theme about artificial intelligence and preventing atrocities from taking place before they actually happen.

Nuclear

Returning to the current album, The Think Tank recounts another true story relating to Daniel Ellsberg. He was key figure in US military strategy and this relates to The Doomsday Machine. In it, he talks about working for the eponymous think tank Rand Corporation in the 1950s, especially the setting of the nuclear codes to 00000 for the destruction of both Russia and China. This was just in case the codes got mislaid!

For the album’s title track, they are joined by Galloway’s wife Kathryn Thomas on flute. Again, there’s a massive story behind this song about professional baseball catcher Moe Berg, who became a World War 2 spy sent to Italy to find out about the German nuclear research programme. His orders included attending a public lecture by Heisenberg and shooting him if Berg thought he was close to developing a nuclear weapon.

It’s a dramatic explosive way to end an impactful set, all performed against a backdrop of images from the album’s cover art. The concepts and machinations of their sound are more than enough to absorb the enormity of their mind-blowing themes.

Their encore is the atmospheric Century Rain from their album Nostalgia For Infinity, dedicated to an audience member who had travelled from mainland Europe to attend this matinee.

As I write, there’s another Sunday matinee currently taking place in the same club, this time featuring IAmTheMorning

It looks as though these Sundays of Prog heaven are here to stay.

Download CAMEL by Brass Camel from Bandcamp

On By Time LordIn progressive rockLeave a comment

We tipped you off to this insanely great album two days ago, and then noted when it was available yesterday for streaming on Apple Music a few hours before midnight of the official release date.

Now here it is in all its official glory, downloadable from Bandcamp. Take a listen and then decide if you want to go all in on supporting this awesome band.

Happy release date to Brass Camel! Nice work, gentlemen. Prog on!

CAMEL by Brass Camel is now streaming!

On By Time LordIn progressive rockLeave a comment

We announced its imminent release yesterday…

And now here it is today for you to stream!

Give it a listen and please tell us what you think…

https://music.apple.com/ca/album/camel/1807394397

Brass Camel announces the imminent release of CAMEL album

On By Time LordIn progressive rockLeave a comment

Vancouver band Brass Camel is only a handful of days away from releasing their genre-bending sophomore album, CAMEL.

Progarchy has already seen them perform live the most tantalizing parts of this amazing disc. We can attest that you will be thrilled to hear its contents. The prog is strong with this one.

Clocking in with six tracks across 40 minutes (a runtime supremely suited for those of us with refined vinyl sensibilities), two of those tracks are prog extravaganzas that are over 11 minutes long. Take note, folks: these brilliant tracks open the A-side and close out the B-side. Now that’s how one bookends an album in the most impressive way!

While Progarchy is presently preparing our review of the imminent CAMEL album (SPOILER ALERT: we love it!), here’s a press release from the band to get you so excited you’ll fall off the edge of your seat:

After successfully criss-crossing Canada three times on the strength of a word-of-mouth reputation and a hard-earned live following, Vancouver-based Brass Camel return with their second full-length record: Camel. Clocking in at 40 minutes across just six tracks, the album is an unapologetic artistic statement from a band whose sound resists easy classification—equal parts progressive rock ambition and deep-pocket groove, with no shortage of swagger, surprises, and soul.

Their self-styled “prog-funk” sound may raise eyebrows on paper, but as multiple Grammy-winner Fantastic Negrito put it: “They sound like a funky Rush.” Or, as Big Sugar frontman Gordie Johnson (who also guests on the record as the group’s Zappa-tinged “cat whisperer”) once declared, “Brass Camel…man, they’re good worldwide.”

Following their 2022 debut Brass, the band doubled down—both on the road and in the studio. Camel is the result of that momentum: two 11-minute bookends, four shapeshifting shorter tracks, and zero interest in playing it safe.

The album opens with “Zealot,” a tense, swinging epic about the inquisition inspired by The Pit and the Pendulum, and closes with “Another Day”—a three-part reflection on life, death and the promise of peace in eternal rest, written after the suicide of Sveinson’s sibling. The track climaxes in an explosive Minimoog solo by keyboardist Aubrey Ellefson, which sees the guitars step out of the picture as the trio of Ellefson, bassist Curtis Arsenault and drummer Wyatt Gilson put their respective instruments through the paces, not unlike a hard-rock “The Cinema Show”.

Lightening the tone, bassist Arsenault’s cat Lionel gets his own theme song in “Pick of the Litter,” which melts seamlessly into the riff-heavy “Chain Reaction.” Side B brings the slinky, Little Feat-tinged drug-running tale “On the Other Side,” followed by the strutting “Borrowed Time,” praised by LouderSound in their “Tracks of the Week” feature as a stomping, riff-driven anthem about burnout and the grind with no shortage of swagger and subtle weirdness.

Recorded at Vancouver’s iconic Hipposonic Studios (formerly Little Mountain Sound which saw the likes of AC/DC, Metallica and Aerosmith roll through) and co-produced/mixed by multi-Juno-winner Ben Kaplan (Biffy Clyro, Rise Against, Mother Mother), Camel captures a band at a turning point—gritty, gutsy, weird enough to stand out, yet fun enough to make people move. They’ve played over 120 shows together in the past two years. They’ve got the chops, the chemistry, and the catalog. All they need now is the world to catch up. As Crown Lands’ Kevin Comeau put it after seeing the group live for the first time in 2024, “I have seen the future of prog rock…and it is Brass Camel”.

Brass Camel is: Daniel Sveinson – vocals/lead guitar
Curtis Arsenault – bass/vocals
Wyatt Gilson – drums/percussion
Aubrey Ellefson – keyboards/vocals
Dylan Lammie – lead guitar

If you end up listening to this album on streaming (while you are waiting for your vinyl copy to arrive, of course), here are the liner notes for you to keep handy:

Brass Camel – Camel

liner notes

Side A:

1. Zealot

2. Pick of the Litter

3. Chain Reaction

Side B:

4. On the Other Side

5. Borrowed Time

6. Another Day

I.The Crystal Vase

II. Is it Any Brighter?

III. Echoes of Eternity

Brass Camel is:

Daniel Sveinson – electric guitar/vocals

Curtis Arsenault – bass/vocals

Aubrey Ellefson – keyboards/vocals

Wyatt Gilson – drums and percussion

Dylan Lammie – electric guitar

Written, arranged and produced by Brass Camel

Co-produced, engineered and mixed by Ben Kaplan

Mastered by João Carvalho

Recorded at Hipposonic Studios and Camelot Studios

Mixed at Kaplan Krunch

Street scenes recorded at St Peter’s Basilica

Assistant engineering by Jeremiah Gowen

Drum setup by Flavio Cirillo

Special thanks to Gordie Johnson for being our cat whisperer

Instruments used on “Camel”:

Moog Minimoog Model D

ARP Odyssey

Korg Prologue

Roland VP-330

Hohner Clavinet D6

Wurlitzer 200A

Rhodes Stage 73

Yamaha C7

Hammond A100

Leslie 147

Farfisa Compact

Rickenbacker 360

Rickenbacker 360/12

Fender Telecaster
Gibson Les Paul Standard

Gibson Firebird

Gibson ES335

Marshall Super Lead

Fender Bassman

Fender Twin Amp

Fender Bandmaster

Victory Duchess

At Mars Specialist

Vox AC30TB6

Rickenbacker 4003V63

Rickenbacker 4001-8

Mesa Carbine

Dunnett Classic Drums SS Camel:

6/8/10/12/12/14/16/18/24”

Sabian cymbals and symphonic gong

Musser vibraphone

LP vibraslap

Evans drumheads

Rotosound strings

Herco plectrums

Big Big Train In Concert: Light for the Likes of Us

On By kruekuttIn Big Big Train, progressive rockLeave a comment

Big Big Train, The Token Lounge, Westland, Michigan, April 11th, 2025.

A well-weathered 400-capacity club seemingly dropped at random in the middle of Detroit’s western suburbs might not be where you’d expect Big Big Train to wind up for a Friday night gig. Yet, given the path of BBT’s 2025 tour (en route from Chicago to Buffalo) and the Motor City’s long-standing love affair with vintage rock of all types, the Token Lounge made sense as the setting for an evening of 21st-century prog. And, as it turned out, I had what was potentially the loudest seat in the house!

Kudos to engineer extraordinaire Rob Aubrey, though; with everything else onstage running through the PA (no amps!) and judicious use of floor speakers, even the front row heard well-balanced, full-spectrum sound (at least with earplugs in). But I’m getting ahead of myself . . .

With no opening band sharing the bill, it was BBT violinist/vocalist/guitarist Clare Lindley’s turn to warm up the crowd. Commanding the stage with confident presence and plenty of snappy platter, Lindley kicked off with original “Voice from the Outside,” then moved into a rootsy, drily humorous set of covers from Steve Earle, Karine Polwart, Michelle Shocked and Levon Helm that soon had us singing – and even clapping – along. Guest turns from trumpeter Paul Mitchell, keyboardist Oskar Holldorff, and multi-instrumentalist Rikard Sjöblom built up the intensity and variety, until Clare & Rikard ripped through a pair of Scottish reels for a enthusiastically received finish.

And then, the moment we’d been waiting for: Big Big Train hit the stage at full strength, diving straight into a generous helping of 2024’s The Likes of Us. Album overture “Light Left in the Day” swelled and ebbed; lead singer Alberto Bravin, Sjöblom and drummer Nick D’Virgilio charged headlong into the odd-time bash “Oblivion”, revving up us Michiganders as only hard-rock riffing can. Then founding father Gregory Spawton left his upstage fortress of bass guitar and pedals for center stage to launch “Behind the Masts”. From the luxuriant 12-string guitar/double keyboard intro through a midsection of diabolic, twisting organ licks to its titanic final resolution, the 17-minute epic held the audience spellbound – until they erupted at the end with the first standing ovation of the night! A lean, surprisingly groovy reworking of “The Last English King” from the recently re-constituted lost album Bard lowered the intensity a bit, but the pitch-perfect a cappella intro to “Miramare” fired up the crowd again, as BBT hit their sweet spot of forgotten history, creamy vocal harmony, virtuoso instrumental counterpoint and unabashed lyrical sentiment.

One side note: Big Big Train has to be the most versatile rock band I’ve ever seen onstage, switching stations and covering every conceivable part with aplomb and precision. Six of the seven sing; five play guitars; a different five play keyboards. But the kicker came when D’Virgilio moved up front for the now-expected acoustic take on Folklore’s “Telling the Bees”. Gaining life and freshness in its role of onstage tribute to the late David Longdon, the song’s bridge captures the once and future heart of the band’s mission:

The joy is in the telling
The sorrow in the soul
Tears of happiness and sadness
Let them flow…

And to cap off the song with a full-band coda featuring Bravin on drums . . . well, that’s just not fair! What else could you do but melt into a puddle as grown men in Cruise to the Edge t-shirts cried around you?

As it turned out, quite a lot; we bopped along with Common Ground’s “Black with Ink”, returned wholeheartedly to The Likes of Us with Spawton’s valedictory “Last Eleven” and Bravin’s unstoppable power ballad “Love Is the Light”, then stayed on our feet as the band whipped through the hairpin turns of closing instrumental “Apollo”. Even with a set shortened from this year’s opening night (as reviewed by Bryan), Big Big Train delivered a high-energy, immensely satisfying evening that gained an extra edge from the Token Lounge’s down to earth, sweaty vibe. As a live band, BBT just keep getting better; their exponentially growing chemistry and precise teamwork enables them to tackle daunting compositional challenges and hit peak moments in the bullseye, with chops and emotion to spare. And to be able to move forward from the welcome set of classics they shared with us in 2024 to focus on their current creative peak? Priceless; as wonderful as last year’s debut US gig was, this outstripped it by miles. (Don’t take my word for it; the high-school friend I dragged along said it was the best show he’d seen in a long time — and this is the guy who re-introduced me to Rush!) With a new album planned for 2026 release and speculation already rampant about next year’s Cruise line-up, could the Train be returning to North American stations sooner than we might think?

— Rick Krueger (front row, left — behind Rikard’s Gibson in the silly buffalo-check shirt, with my friend jumping up directly behind me)

Big Big Train, Live at Sweetwater, Fort Wayne, IN, April 2, 2025

On By Bryan MoreyIn Big Big Train, progressive rock2 Comments

Band: Alberto Bravin (lead vocals, keyboards, guitar), Nick D’Virgilio (drums, vocals, acoustic guitar), Oskar Holldorff (keyboards, vocals), Clare Lindley (violin, vocals, keyboards, guitar), Rikard Sjöblom (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Gregory Spawton (bass, bass pedals, acoustic guitar/12-string), and Paul Mitchell (trumpet)

Setlist: Light Left in The Day, Oblivion, Beneath The Masts, Skates On, The Last English King, Transit of Venus, Miramare, Telling The Bees, Black With Ink, Last Eleven, Apollo
Encore: Love Is The Light

Paradoxically, there is perhaps no better time to take a break from work than when things are busy and overwhelming. They say when it rains, it pours. That seems to have had both a figurative and a literal meaning as of late. Work is overflowing with good and not so good, and it has been raining buckets across much of the American Midwest and South. Here in South Central Kentucky, we have had about 12 inches of rain over the last several days. Of course this rain had to come the week Big Big Train were playing their show at Sweetwater in Fort Wayne, Indiana. That wasn’t about to stop me, though. This concert had been one of the few things I was looking forward to over the last few months, and frankly I couldn’t wait.

Into my boat I sailed. Okay, land yacht. I drive an ’08 Mercury Grand Marquis. A 5 hour drive (made ten minutes longer than it needed to be due to my refusal to pay a $5.22 toll on I-65 across the Ohio River in Louisville) is merely a pleasant outing sitting in that living room on wheels. My first stop was to the vet to drop off my dog for an overnight stay. Sorry Éowyn. (I think she’s forgiven me since she’s half laying on me as I write this.) Big Big Train serenaded me the whole drive, beginning with The Likes of Us before going back to Ingenious Devices, Grimspound, The Second Brightest Star and I think some excerpts from Merchants of Light. The weather co-operated the entire drive, with only a light drizzle glazing my windshield in the last half hour. I could have done without the immense truck traffic, but it didn’t really slow me down much on the drive up.

Since I couldn’t check into my hotel until 4pm, I made the compulsory (for me, anyways) trip to Hyde Brothers books, one of my favorite used books stores. Their prices are good, and their selection is exemplary. Pick a topic and they have something to suit your needs. As usual when I visit, I spent too much money.

A trip to Fort Wayne for me isn’t complete without a stop at Portillo’s, which was a convenient 3 minute drive from the hotel. As a born and raised Chicagoan, Portillo’s has long been one of my favorites. They’re the king of fast food, since they’re actually quality. Italian beef (a Chicago favorite), hot dogs, burgers, fries, and exceptional chocolate cake and lemon cake. Since Illinois is an expensive cesspool, they have been expanding to places Illinoisans are fleeing to. Indiana is a popular spot for Illinois ex-pats.

After watering the local economy with my money, I headed over to Sweetwater. I got there early, allowing me some time to wander their magnificent retail store. I’m not a musician, but if I was, I’d be in heaven. They seemed to have everything, including a couple members of Big Big Train! I left Alberto and Rikard alone, though.

After that I made my way to the line, which was just beginning to form. Prog concerts are always a fun way to meet people, since we’re typically of like mind and they are one of the few places I can talk in-person with someone about my beloved progressive rock and not see eyes glaze over. I even met people who were familiar with Progarchy and had read my reviews over the years. Pretty neat!

I had paid for a general admission ticket between rows C-G, and due to my place early in line, I was able to snag a brilliant seat fourth row center. I believe this was two rows closer than my seat at last year’s show. As things got going, the next round of bad weather rolled in, although you wouldn’t know it from inside the theater. The dude who introduced the band, who started a little later than the advertised 7pm, perhaps giving a chance for latecomers to show up because of the weather, commented that the auditorium was Sweetwater’s designated safe space for storms, so the show would definitely go on. The auditorium never quite filled up, which I suspect was due to the rain. They are also playing shows outside Detroit and Chicago soon, which may have limited people who would have otherwise come from those areas. But since Nick works for Sweetwater as his day job, the venue makes a great warm-up show for a tour.

The band was met with applause as they entered the stage one by one. They opened with the instrumental “Light Left In The Day” (they left out Alberto’s opening vocals), a brilliant interlude to a show that leaned heavily on the band’s latest output. Alberto quickly showed he’s so much more than the band’s lead vocalist, playing some of the leading keyboard lines on this track. Paul Mitchell’s trumpet showed us we would be getting a full Big Big Train sound.

Continue reading “Big Big Train, Live at Sweetwater, Fort Wayne, IN, April 2, 2025” →

Rick’s Quick Takes: Box Set Report, Q1

On By kruekuttIn avant-garde, electronic, progressive rockLeave a comment

By January 31st of this year, I had already ordered a ridiculous number of multiple-CD box sets since Christmas. With three delayed in the production process, five have already landed on my doorstep (OK, one was small enough to fit in the mailbox). Reviews follow in the order that I tripped over them on the porch coming home from work. As usual, order links are embedded in the Artist/Title listing and streaming options follow whenever available.

Wilco, A Ghost Is Born Deluxe Edition: springing from entangled hardcore and Americana roots, Jeff Tweedy had steered Wilco through band tumult and record company rejection to plant a left-field cultural marker with 2001’s freak-folk classic Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The band’s 2004 follow-up A Ghost Is Born went to further extremes, a sputtering tornado of punky guitar thrash, electronic noise, avant-garde improvisational systems and lyrical grapplings with personal vulnerability, mental dysfunction and substance abuse. Heavy? Yep. But never offputting or boring; Glenn Kotche and John Stirratt lay down lateral yet accessible beats that float (“Muzzle of Bees”, “Wishful Thinking”) crackle (the hypnotic “Spiders (Kidsmoke)”) shuffle (“Handshake Drugs”, “Theologians”, “I’m A Wheel”) and stomp (“At Least That’s What You Said”, “The Late Greats”) while Leroy Bach and Mikael Jorgenson add spicy, soulful accents and colors. All the while Tweedy waxes deadpan yet primal, ripping holes in the fabric of his personal time and space, searching out both tender and torturous byways to catharsis and healing. If that kind of quest sounds up your alley, this reissue gives it up in excelsis: the finished album plus 4 discs of jammed “Fundamentals”, 2 discs of outtakes and alternates, and a double-disc live show with then-new members Pat Sansone and Nels Cline fleshing out Tweedy’s unique, unlikely Hero’s Journey. Great, extensive liner notes by Replacements biographer Bob Mehr as well. Already on my Favorites list for the year.

Yes, Close to the Edge Super Deluxe Edition: Well, I did ask for this — and Rhino delivered! The third in the series of SD Yes reissues, this captures what might be the quintessential prog band’s quintessential album in pristine, high-impact sound (both the original mix remastered and Steven Wilson’s latest remixes). It all comes down to the three original tunes from 1972 — the side-long title track, the majestic “And You and I” and the remarkably funky “Siberian Khatru” — with Jon Anderson’s wailing word games, Steve Howe’s lacerating guitar licks, Rick Wakeman’s extravagantly classical keys, and the simmering, bubbling rhythm work of Chris Squire and Bill Bruford all battling for space yet somehow fusing into a triumphant whole. Bonuses include plenty of rarities and alternates (including both versions of Yes’ classic take on Paul Simon’s “America”) and a complete live show from the tour that followed, with Alan White’s beefy thwack on drums replacing Bruford’s loose, limber dance. Well worth hearing and picking up, even if you have previous reissues; another instant Favorite.

Steven Wilson, The Overview: If Wilson has never realized his dream of broad pop stardom, he’s entranced the mainstream rock press this time around — both usual (Prog Magazine) and unusual (MOJO named it album of the month) suspects have hailed The Overview as a return to prog that doubles as a conceptual tour de force. For once, though, I’m underwhelmed; while intermittently galvanizing, the two-track album stubbornly refuses to coalesce in my ears. Is Wilson’s musical material stretched too thin? (Side One’s 23-minute suite “Objects Outlive Us” is ultimately a set of variations on one six-chord sequence.) Are his influences, for once, undigested? (The Dark Side of the Moon, Tangerine Dream and “Space Oddity” are practically italicized and bracketed on Side Two’s title suite.) Or is it more likely that I’m bouncing off Wilson’s main conceit (admittedly snarky paraphrase: “the universe is big, cold, and dead, so loosen up in your petty day-to-day lives and find your own existential purpose in the face of meaninglessness”)? As stunning as its high points can be, for me The Overview feels like Wilson’s chilliest, least empathetic effort since his 2008 solo debut Insurgentes. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised if hearing SW live this fall, backed by the players responsible for the instrumental highlights here (Randy McStine and Adam Holzman absolutely bring the goods) shifts my perspective. After all, I wound up advocating for The Future Bites . . . Bonuses of the sold-out deluxe edition include an orchestrated version of Side One and the complete take of album closer “Permanence”, with saxophonist Theo Travis lighting up Wilson’s ambient aural nebulas.

Sonic Elements, IT – A 50th Anniversary Celebration of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway by Genesis: Genesis’ first entry into the superdeluxe marketplace, a 50th-anniversary remaster of their 1974 rock opera, wound up being delayed until June. In meantime, we have to content ourselves with this remake, masterminded by keyboardist/conceptualist extraordinaire Dave Kerzner. But never fear; there’s contentment — indeed, satisfaction — aplenty to be found! An all-star team of contemporary American giants (Kerzner, Fernando Perdomo on guitar, Billy Sherwood on bass) have the time of their lives rewiring The Lamb as a lushly upholstered, dynamic film score, complete with Nick D’Virgilio’s drums and orchestrations repurposed from a similar 2009 project. But the secret sauce here is vocalist Francis Dunnery (whose credits range from original lead singer for Brit neo-proggers It Bites to guitarist for Robert Plant); his magnificent, dramatic singing echoes Peter Gabriel’s originals while avoiding the safety of imitation. Dunnery absolutely inhabits Genesis’ Puerto Rican punk pilgrim Rael on his journey from the streets of New York through realms of embodied myth to absorption into Jung’s collective unconscious (I think). It’s all done with love, gusto and plenty of polish, and it’s absolutely thrilling. Available as a basic double-disc set, a Deluxe triple set with alternate versions of multiple tracks, or a hi-res download with even more alternate takes. Well worth every penny, whichever version you opt for, and in the running for the Favorites list.

Rush 50, Deluxe Edition: So how do you put together yet another Rush anniversary compilation — especially the first since the passing of Neil Peart? Rush 50 turns out to be a pretty ingenious solution to the problem — not just one of marketing, but of producing genuine value. Yes, it’s organized around the career arc of everyone’s favorite Canadian hard-prog power trio as usual; yes, there’s at least one song from every album, with career high points from Fly By Night to Clockwork Angels given extra representation. But more than half the 50 tracks are live versions — spanning the decades from an early TV appearance recorded at an Ontario secondary school to the encore from the final gig of the R40 tour, taken from the canonical All the World’s A Stage, the bonus concerts on recent 40th-anniversary reissues, later live video/audio packages, and the vaults. If some of the fledgling band’s material seems woefully unfashionable now — the Beatles’ “Bad Boy” spun into a psychedelic workout a la Cream, for example — we still get the privilege of eavesdropping as Alex Lifeson, Geddy Lee and Peart grow in muscularity, depth and confidence, building an audience with their audacity and prowess, while time stands still before our ears. The mouthwatering physical package, with sympathetic, well-reported overviews of the band’s first and final decades plus mouthwatering new art by the stalwart Hugh Syme, is the icing on the cake here. Even if most of this material is familiar to longtime fans, having it all in one box turns out to be a genuine pleasure.

— Rick Krueger

FARO

An Interview with ROCCO DE SIMONE of FARO

On By NickIn progressive rockLeave a comment

Progressive rock has always been a genre that thrives on innovation, pushing boundaries both musically and thematically. Italian progressive rock band FARO is no exception. With their latest album, Nu-Man, released in September 2024, the band delves into the complex themes of transhumanism and the evolving relationship between humanity and technology. The album presents a deeply cinematic and immersive experience, blending organic instrumentation with modern electronic elements to create a soundscape that is both evocative and thought-provoking. At the heart of FARO’s music is frontman Rocco de Simone, whose introspective lyrics and dynamic vocal delivery bring these themes to life. In this interview, Rocco discusses the conceptual depth of Nu-Man, his approach to songwriting, and the broader philosophical implications of living in an increasingly digital world.

NU-MAN by FARO prog band

Nu-Man delves into transhumanism and the evolving relationship between humans and technology. Do you think this theme resonates differently with listeners depending on their personal experiences?

I believe that our relationship with technology is deeply personal, shaped by our experiences and by how much we allow it to influence our lives.

In our album, we address the theme of transhumanism in a clear way, though through metaphors rather than explicit statements. I started reflecting on these ideas because I strongly felt that, especially after the pandemic, the world was heading in a direction where technology is becoming increasingly central to our existence.

How this theme resonates with listeners largely depends on their individual perspective: those who have personally experienced the weight of digitalization, isolation, or automation might perceive its more unsettling aspects, while others may see it as an inevitable evolution—perhaps even a positive one.

Whether this is good or bad, only time will tell. The real issue, however, is the evident process of dehumanization we are witnessing: the loss of empathy, the growing inability to experience deep emotions, and the diminishing capacity for critical reflection. This leads to a flattening of sensitivity, making it increasingly difficult to appreciate beauty in its most authentic forms, including the most profound and thought-provoking artistic expressions, while the superficial and the mediocre gain more and more space.

Nu-Man embodies this concept perfectly: a flawless being, yet incapable of truly experiencing emotions. No matter how much technology and artificial intelligence evolve, they will never be able to replace what only human beings can express—that spark that makes us truly unique.

The album has a cinematic and immersive quality. If Nu-Man were to be adapted into a film, what kind of story or aesthetic would you envision?

I enjoy auteur films set in small-town America, where the focus is on the characters’ lives and personal dramas. However, I believe Nu-Man would be better suited to a more dystopian and modern story, with a touch of madness and futurism. I envision a narrative that contrasts characters facing existential struggles in a society where feeling emotions or asking questions has become outdated. These characters could be the last remaining humans, on the brink of extinction, while everything around them spins at an unstoppable pace of technological modernity.

The setting would be decadent and dystopian—a world where everything from the past has been abandoned, rusting away, replaced by a present that leaves no room for reflection or genuine beauty. The tension between old and new, between the human and the technological, would create the perfect contrast to depict the growing dehumanization.

I have partially represented my visual vision, albeit metaphorically, in the Isaac music video, created together with my friend and photographer Pino Giannini. It’s dark, dystopian, and deeply dramatic, reflecting the atmosphere I envision for Nu-Man.

Progressive rock often challenges traditional songwriting structures. How do you approach crafting a song—do you prioritize melody, atmosphere, or storytelling first?

Unconventional structures or compositional complexities—though sometimes present—are not the main focus of FARO. What truly matters to us is the emotional authenticity of the music. Every track must resonate sincerely and convey something profound. We strive for a balance between atmosphere, melody, and storytelling, but in the end, it’s always the emotional impact that prevails. For us, every song is a journey meant to evoke a genuine reaction in the listener.

We always compose with a strong visual component in mind; our music unfolds as a sensory experience that goes beyond sound. The ambient and cinematic element is fundamental in our writing because it helps create that immersive dimension we consider essential. We want the listener to be able to imagine a scene, a place, an emotion—as if they were experiencing a film through music.

The balance between organic instrumentation and electronic elements is crucial in your sound. How do you decide when to let technology take the lead and when to keep things raw and human?

The sound component is fundamental for us because it is through sound that our compositions take on a unique identity. We are very attentive to sound research and prefer modern tones because they perfectly align with our emotional vision. At first listen, the use of cutting-edge sounds may give the impression of a shift towards digitalization, but in reality, it is the presence of organic sounds, like guitars, that prevails. Synthesizers and keyboards act more as a backdrop, creating an atmosphere that enriches and supports the sonic narrative.

Sometimes, we like to push the boundaries with layered sounds, combining guitars with highly expanded synthetic effects, creating a blend of raw rock and futuristic soundscapes. Our way of layering and orchestrating sounds inflates the overall texture in an original way, and the harmonic interplay gives life to an avant-garde effect. We aim to balance the electronic elements with more traditional instruments, creating a fusion that not only stimulates the listener but also enhances the emotions we want to convey. In this sense, technology provides us with opportunities that would otherwise be difficult to achieve, becoming a means to express complexity and deeper emotions.

You’ve mentioned feeling a sense of disconnection from the world post-pandemic. Do you think music can help bridge that gap, or is it also being affected by the same digitalization and detachment?

Yes, the world as I once knew it no longer exists, but as I mentioned, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It becomes a problem when we forget where we come from. Music and art, in general, are among the few truly powerful tools that remind us we are beings capable of deep emotions and a connection to something greater. Artistic expression is one of the most noble aspects of humanity—it allows us to rise above mere existence.

It doesn’t matter if music is influenced by digitalization; as I said, we ourselves use all the available technologies to express our vision. But what truly makes the difference is the soul behind the sounds. Even the most synthetic instruments can convey powerful emotions if used with intention and sensitivity. In the end, there is no gap to bridge as long as technology remains a means rather than the ultimate goal. The key is ensuring that the human element remains at the heart of everything.

Some of the lyrics on Nu-Man evoke existential and philosophical themes. Do you draw inspiration from specific philosophers, writers, or personal introspections?

The lyrics I write are often inspired by personal experiences or stories of people close to us. I love portraying the human soul as the central focus around which all our concepts revolve. My narrative style is often poetic and dramatic, centered on introspection, metaphors, and the unspoken. I draw inspiration from modern literature, but also from the cursed poets of the late 19th-century Decadent movement and classical philosophy. However, what stimulates me the most are film dialogues, which I consider an important source of inspiration.

I am particularly drawn to stories of people facing deep inner conflicts, often in difficult or dehumanized environments, where the struggle for survival intertwines with the search for meaning. Themes such as solitude, redemption, and the resilience of the human spirit are at the core of our compositions. The drama and pursuit of authentic emotions in these stories are what I strive to convey through music, with a vision that places the human being at the center—grappling with their vulnerabilities, yet also with their ability to endure and hope.

Given that you have a strong visual approach to music, how do you see the role of album artwork, photography, and music videos in complementing Nu-Man’s themes?

The album cover is actually a frame taken from the Isaac video, which I created almost entirely using the stop-motion technique. Initially, that image wasn’t meant to be the cover, but when we realized its visual and evocative power, we had no doubts—it was perfect.

The image shows the shadow of a mannequin falling backward, spinning into the void. A void that represents the absence of soul, of emotions. The mannequin is a symbol of all of us—manipulated, exploited, emptied until it dissolves, making way for the rebirth of a new being: perfect, yet devoid of humanity. This transformation embodies the core of our concept—the transition from man to a transhuman entity.

The Paradox video also fits into this reflection, but from a completely opposite perspective. I deliberately created it using Kaiber AI as a provocation, in contrast to Isaac, which is deeply artisanal and artistic. Isaac took me months of work, pouring in my passion for visual art, photography, and filmmaking. In Paradox, on the other hand, I let artificial intelligence generate the images, questioning how technology can be both a resource and a threat to artistic expression. Two opposing visions, yet both part of the same discourse: what remains of art and human identity in the era of extreme digitalization?

How do you feel about the current state of progressive rock and metal? Are there any new bands or artists that excite you?

Fortunately, progressive rock and metal continue to be vibrant and constantly evolving genres, even though today’s musical landscape is increasingly challenging for more complex and thought-provoking music. There’s also a recurring issue that often hinders this evolution: many listeners and critics approach music with blinders, clinging to stereotypes about what “prog” should be, forgetting that, by its very nature, it is a genre meant to be free from rigid structures and predefined formulas.

In past decades, bands like Rush, Queensrÿche, Tool, and later Dream Theater revolutionized the scene by blending diverse sounds and genres, allowing prog to evolve. Today, this process continues—perhaps in a less radical way—but it often goes unnoticed or is underestimated by parts of the audience.

Incredible bands like Leprous and the younger Sleep Token—whom I consider among the most innovative—are changing the rules of the game. I could also mention Tesseract or Periphery, groups that have successfully carried forward this evolution. A special mention goes to Sleep Token: I find them extraordinary. Their vocalist is outstanding, and they’ve managed—through great maturity and skill—to merge seemingly opposite genres like ambient, pop, hip-hop, R&B, prog, and djent. Not everyone can pull off such a feat, and the fact that they are dividing audiences between traditionalists and more open-minded listeners proves just how groundbreaking they are.

Before them, bands like Porcupine Tree, Katatonia, and A Perfect Circle took the sound to new dimensions, and we, in our own way, strive to follow that example—keeping the drive for experimentation and sonic exploration alive.

Italian progressive rock has a rich history with bands like PFM and Banco del Mutuo Soccorso. Do you feel a connection to that legacy, or do you see FARO as carving a completely separate path?

I am proud to be a part of a genre that, in the ’70s and early ‘80s, made Italy an innovative reference point on a global scale. It’s a shame, though, that for various reasons, it was born and died in that very period, leaving room for a music scene that, with few exceptions, has been a source of great embarrassment for me. Italy went from being a beacon of musical experimentation to a country dominated by trivial pop songs, often devoid of any artistic value and unable to compete with international realities.

As for Faro, I can say that no, we don’t feel at all like the heirs of PFM, Area, or Balletto di Bronzo. Our background is more closely tied to modern progressive rock in the British and American styles, which we still find more innovative and inspiring.”

You’ve spoken about your love for cinema and literature. Are there any particular films or books that directly influenced Nu-Man’s concept?

Cinema is a world that has always fascinated me for its ability to explore emotions, symbolism, and the human condition. If I had to choose one film that struck me, it would be difficult to narrow it down to just one, given the vastness of the works that have influenced me. Directors like the Coens, Tarantino, Lynch, and Coppola have an extraordinary ability to tackle complex themes, creating multi-faceted characters and stories that stay in your memory. These films, with their capacity to explore humanity through chaos, beauty, and mystery, are among the main sources of inspiration for Nu-Man. The search for truth, ambiguity, and unease that I find in their works are reflected in our album, which seeks to explore the human condition in a profound and challenging way, blending elements of introspection, evolution, and distortion. Although it is impossible to reduce all of this to a single film or book, I believe that the concept of Nu-Man emerges precisely from the confrontation with these complex worlds, where the individual confronts their own contradictions and the challenges of a transforming era.

The song Isaac presents a haunting metaphor of sacrifice. How do you approach writing lyrics that are both symbolic and emotionally immediate?

The lyrics of Isaac are deliberately metaphorical and unsettling, and as you rightly pointed out, the music and video complement the theme, creating a total work of art. My intention is to engage all the senses through art, creating an experience that goes beyond mere listening, embracing emotionality and visual vision. In this album, I was looking for a theme tied to change and transformation because every transformation, every evolution, inevitably involves the loss or death of something that we cannot take with us. Isaac, therefore, tells exactly this: sacrifice as a moment of necessary loss for a new birth, a new beginning.

My approach to writing lyrics is very spontaneous and natural. I don’t write from a pre-established plan, but try to be guided by the authenticity of the theme I choose. Even if the theme may seem fantastical or surreal, what matters to me is that it is authentic, that it reflects a deep human concept. I am not interested in stories that don’t center around the complexity of the human soul, even if they deal with themes like science or science fiction. The humanistic component must always be present, because it is what makes the story and emotions universal.

In the end, every lyric I write must belong to my most intimate emotions, the ones I feel deeply, on a marrow level. I never write anything that I don’t truly feel is mine, that doesn’t resonate with my experience and my deepest reflections. That’s why the themes I explore, even when sometimes fantastical, are always rooted in emotional reality and human experience.”

With streaming dominating music consumption, how do you feel about the way listeners engage with albums today? Do you think Nu-Man is best experienced as a whole, or does each track stand on its own?

Today we are living through one of the worst moments for music with true artistic value. Music, unlike 20 or 30 years ago, is often reduced to a simple pastime, a fast and superficial consumer product. In the past, however, it was deeply rooted in people’s lives: it represented a social message, it was the soundtrack of existences, memories, and human experiences. It was a means of cultural and political expression, capable of influencing fashion, thoughts, lifestyles, and entire generations. Today, it is increasingly rare to find listeners who experience it with that intensity, but there is still a small niche of true music lovers, people who seek authentic emotions and explore various genres with passion and expertise.

Nu-Man is an album that cannot be listened to casually or superficially. It is a sonic journey that requires attention and immersion, to be savored track by track or in one go for those who have the patience and sensitivity to let themselves be carried away. Each song tells a story of its own, but all are connected by a red thread that grows and evolves from the first to the last note. It is an album designed for those who seek a deep musical experience, for those who want something more than just background music.

FARO’s sound has evolved dramatically since Gemini. Do you think you’ve found your definitive sound, or do you expect more transformations in the future?

To think that we have arrived or found the definitive sound would, for us, be like declaring the end of everything. Each album is a journey in itself, an exploration of sounds and approaches that are always new and unknown. Our music thrives on evolution and experimentation, and the idea of crystallizing into a fixed style would go against our artistic nature. Each record is the reflection of a specific moment, but our path is in constant transformation, and it is this search that always pushes us forward.

What was the most challenging track to write or record on Nu-Man, and why? 

The making of this album challenged us on many fronts, with some tracks being particularly complex to develop. Paradox, for example, was one of those songs we almost gave up on because it seemed like it couldn’t find a clear direction. But the perseverance of Angelo and I pushed us to rework it several times, turning it into one of the album’s most successful tracks, so much so that we chose it as a single. Nothing in Nu-Man was easy, but challenges are part of our journey, and we’re always ready to face new ones.

Looking ahead, do you have any new creative directions or collaborations in mind for the next phase of FARO?

The Faro are aware that the journey is not over yet, and the next album will bring with it new elements and surprises. We’re at a turning point, feeling the need for a new change. We are not capable of repeating ourselves. Of course, the things that define us have shaped our personality and uniqueness, which in turn define our sound, but research and experimentation are always at the core of our creative process. We can’t help but explore new ways of expressing ourselves, and this can only open up new possibilities. As for collaborations, we are wide open to them: there could be big surprises on the next album. The emotion machine is always in motion, and all we can do is fuel it, every time and with more intensity!

Nu-Man is out now; stream/download from Bandcamp.

The MC2 project

Album Review: The MC2 Project – A Day at the Slopes

On By NickIn progressive rockLeave a comment

Denver-based instrumental progressive rock duo The MC2 Project invites listeners to experience the thrill of a perfect ski day with their latest release, A Day at the Slopes. Guitarist Anthony A-man and pianist Larisa Gorodinski have crafted an album that blends rock’s raw energy, classical’s precision, and jazz’s free-flowing spontaneity into a cinematic and immersive sonic exploration.

Concept is a driving force behind The MC2 Project’s music, and as Anthony explains, A Day at the Slopes is a love letter to skiing and snowboarding in Colorado—specifically in Vail. “The anticipation and enjoyment of the ski trips, driving from Denver to the mountains, and then coming back home satisfied and tired—it’s a special feeling,” he shares. That sentiment is woven throughout the album, with each track representing different moments of an adventure on the slopes.

The album kicks off with “One Day Morning,” setting a peaceful, expectant tone. The interplay between A-man’s guitar work and Gorodinski’s expressive piano evokes the crisp morning air and quiet anticipation before the action begins. “Hello Mountains” follows, building excitement with ascending melodies and layered harmonies that reflect the grandeur of arriving at the peaks.

As the album progresses, the duo captures the full range of a skier’s experience. “Mountain Top” delivers a sweeping, majestic atmosphere, while “Skiing Down” translates the rush of carving through fresh powder into a flurry of cascading keyboard arpeggios and rapid-fire guitar runs. The exhilarating “Race on the Slopes” mirrors the intensity of high-speed downhill racing, brimming with complex time signatures and fast-paced interplay.

But it’s not all smooth sailing. “Tough Terrain (Hairbag Alley)” throws listeners into a technical, almost chaotic landscape, mirroring the challenge of navigating treacherous slopes. Anthony explains how The MC2 Project approaches composition through vivid imagery: “We have a track called ‘Cloud 9’ on the new album. Some of you might know the Cloud 9 run in Blue Sky Basin at Vail. It’s my favorite place to snowboard. We had no demos for that tune, but after reviewing photos and videos from the place, the track came together naturally.” That organic approach to composition is a testament to the duo’s ability to translate experience into sound.

The album begins to wind down with “Last Run of the Day,” a reflective, almost wistful piece that captures the final moments before packing up, followed by “Driving Home” and “What a Day!”, which bring a sense of satisfaction and closure to the journey.

Beyond their impressive musicianship, The MC2 Project’s ability to work with collaborators adds another dimension to their music. Anthony speaks highly of drummer Alex Bituckih, who has become an essential part of their recordings, and bassist Matt Skellenger, whose versatility helped shape the final sound of A Day at the Slopes. Their approach to production is equally meticulous, as Anthony details: “Sometimes it takes 20 takes to get things right. I listen to what I record again and again, even as a separated guitar part, before sending it to our sound engineer, Alex JaJa. He’ll tell me if something doesn’t sound right, so I’ve learned to be extra critical from the start.”

With A Day at the Slopes, The MC2 Project proves that instrumental progressive rock can be both technical and highly evocative. By drawing from personal experiences and translating them into complex musical landscapes, the duo delivers an album that not only breaks confines but also resonates on an emotional level. Whether you’re a fan of prog, jazz, or simply enjoy adventurous, concept-driven music, this is a ride worth taking.

For more information about The MC2 Project visit their website.