No big hoo-hah this year: just a down and dirty list of my favorite releases and reissues of the year, covered in previous Quick Takes or elsewhere on the Web (links are to my original articles)!
Bruce Hornsby, The Way It Is; Scenes from the Southside; Harbor Lights; Here Come the Noisemakers (live); Intersections 1985-2005 (box set); Solo Concerts (live). See my appreciation of Bruce’s career here!
Thanks for your ongoing attention and steadfast support. We at the Rockin’ Republic of Prog appreciate it! Best wishes as we all turn the corner and head into the New Year!
Due to circumstances beyond my control — thanks to everybody who helped out! — this edition of Quick Takes is playing catch-up. This time around, purchase links are embedded in the release title, with any additional sample/streaming links labelled (LISTEN HERE).
The last few months’ progressive rock releases have skewed heavily toward reissues — for example, Keith Emerson and Greg Lake’s mid-1980s reunion with hard-rocker Cozy Powell in the drummer’s chair. Triple-cd box Emerson, Lake & Powell: The Complete Collection(LISTEN HERE) is a compact, yet worthy appendix to the ELP canon. The main album, ranging from extended throwbacks “The Score” and “The Miracle” through jazzy diversion “Step Aside” to souped-up classical gas like the single “Touch and Go” and Holst’s “Mars, the Bringer of War” is big, brash, widescreen stuff; both in the studio and on the two live discs included, Emerson’s thrusting digital synthesizer upgrades, Lake’s full-throated bravura vocals and Powell’s sleek percussive drive come on like gangbusters on new material and vintage classics such as “Pictures at an Exhibition” and “Pirates”. ELP’s mass appeal remained in the rear view mirror, but Emerson, Lake and Powell was a game try at reinvention for a different time.
Carl Palmer was playing drums for Asia during ELPowell’s flare and fade, but he’s remained engaged with his biggest band’s work, stepping up as legacy guardian after Emerson and Lake’s passing. Disc 1 of Palmer’s solo boxFanfare for the Common Man(a reissue/expansion of 2001’s Do You Wanna Play, Carl?) shows how he emerged from his bandmates’ shadows in the later 1970s, asserting himself in spellbinding trio jams, big band blowouts and a stylish, eclectic percussion concerto; disc 2 covers his roots in British R&B and psychedelia plus his later collaborations with Asia and others, while a new 3rd disc documents live work reinventing the ELP repertoire for guitar-based power trio. The accompanying BluRay video and biography are revealing, though scattered and even self-contradictory. But that’s a minor blemish: Palmer remains rightly admired and respected by musical peers and fans, and still on the road in his 70s, he retains the rhythmic fire and momentum that this set amply demonstrates.
ELP weren’t the only proggers trying to reinvent themselves after the mid-70s; on side one of 1977’s The Missing Piece(LISTEN HERE), the manic British sextet Gentle Giant made ever so coy feints at co-opting the energy of punk and New Wave (especially on the self-conscious spoof “Betcha Thought We Couldn’t Do It”). Side two was more relaxed; reaching for the soul-inflected art-pop that Genesis and Yes later rode to the top of the charts, the Shulman brothers & company still stirred in Baroque cross-rhythms (“As Old As You’re Young”), stately balladry (“Memories of Old Days”) and breakneck instrumental and vocal twists and turns (“Winning”). With Steven Wilson providing fresh stereo and spatial audio remixes, this is another delightful installment in the Giant’s ongoing series of album upgrades.
English folk-classicalists Renaissance kept plugging through the decades, with operatic lead singer Annie Haslam at the helm. 2000’s Tuscany(LISTEN HERE) was Haslam’s last go-round with key members guitarist Michael Dunford and drummer Terence Sullivan (plus limpid guest piano work from former keyboardist Jon Tout). Not as urgent as their 1970s work, it’s still a lovely, impressionistic album, gently meditating on the nexus of art (“Lady from Tuscany”, “Dear Landseer”), nature (“Pearls of Wisdom,” “Dolphin’ s Prayer”) and love (“In the Sunshine”, “One Thousand Roses”). A complete live show from Renaissance’s 2001 tour of Japan included as a bonus mixes new tunes with career standbys such as “Carpet of the Sun,” “Northern Lights” and “Mother Russia”, showing off Haslam and company’s musicality and consistency. As usual, Esoteric Recordings’ latest Renaissance reissue provides the context to better assess the work of this underrated band.
And in the wake of its new reissue, I now consider Yes’ 1994 album Talk the most unified effort of their post-prog decade. (It was also the least well-known, due to grunge taking over rock radio and Yes’ record company collapsing.) The only full-blown songwriting team-up of hippie muse Jon Anderson and guitarist/keyboardist/composer Trevor Rabin, Talk’s tunes ooze out-there ambition and hi-gloss appeal; the choral kick of “The Calling” and “Walls”, “Real Love’ jangle-pop/heavy metal synergy, the skip-hopping “State of Play” and the closing multi-part epic “Endless Dream” are stunningly remastered to devastating impact. Rhythm section Chris Squire and Alan White are at their most down and dirty; Tony Kaye leans in with expressive, gnarly organ work. And a bonus live set (from the soundboard at a 1994s tour stop) showed that this lineup could conjure a fairly close approximation of the classic sound on standbys like “Heart of the Sunrise” and “I’ve Seen All Good People”. If you loved Yes but wrote them off between 90125 and Union, I’m serious; give Talk a shot.
There have also been plenty of ear-opening new releases, mostly rooted in improvisation rather than composition. The latest posthumous set from piano legend Chick Corea has its source in a 2019 tour and follow-up sessions with eclectic banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck; the aptly-titled Remembrance(LISTEN HERE) covers an incredible range of sonic possibilities, with the duo wailing on Thelonious Monk’s “Bemsha Swing”, Scarlatti sonatas, brand new compositions and impromptus pulled from thin air. Impeccably tasty and always in the moment, Corea and Fleck spark off each other constantly, caught up in an unending sense of play and delight. Fans of either player will love this, and folks who dig acoustic jazz, bluegrass or both will find themselves smiling again and again when they hear it.
While Brad Mehldau is one of the numerous young lions who followed in Corea’s wake on piano, his sound and vision are uniquely his own, as a fresh pair of solo discs make clear. On After Bach II, Mehldau brings his love for the classical piano tradition and his improvisational chops to bear on a second set of J.S. Bach’s richly poised keyboard works, mingling preludes and fugues played straight with jazzier extrapolations (“Between Bach”) and superimposed twists of rhythm and counterpoint based on one of Bach’s pinnacles, the Goldberg Variations. Apres Fauré brings a similar freedom to the music of Gabriel Fauré, the French composer who became a unique bridge between the late Romantic and Impressionist schools; Mehldau responds to Fauré’s sense of adventure with sweeping repetitious bass lines, long-spun singing melodies, and thick two-handed harmonies. Plenty of rigorous development to chew on, plenty of knotty invention and lush sound to bask in on both of these!
On their new EP Tropic of Cancer, Chicago’s heavy-prog-jazzers Sons of Ra show how they can unspool variations on a theme with staggering impact. Setting a nimble, dancing idea with roots in fusion’s golden age into motion, multi-instrumentalists Erik Oldman and Keith Wakefield and drummer Michael Rataj put it through exhilarating paces over 23 minutes: you get wah-wah electric piano extrapolations, a sax/bass duet over a bed of guitar/sax noise; a wonderfully idiomatic folk/Celtic throwdown (complete with guests on violin, flute and pipa); a Santanesque guitar jam that spirals up dizzingly before it goes off like a fireworks display; and a gargantuan finish with hypnotic sax wailing over a shuddering guitar army. No jive; this is great stuff, and Sons of Ra are a band to which attention must be paid!
King Crimson-adjacent power trio Markus Reuter, Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto are also back with the ironically titled Tu-Ner for Lovers, another heaping helping of rich, doomy thrash. Sculpted from improvs recorded on their 2023 tour, the trio scrape, scratch and scrawl from the get-go, with Mastelotto laying down off-kilter tribal beats, Gunn rattling listeners’ innards with sludgy bass lines and Reuter slapping down arresting leads and color clusters on touch guitar. Stalking the abstract sublime, the music coalesces as the album progresses, locking in to galvanizing effect on closing stompers “They Call Him Threnody” and “Transistor Valentine”, wispily floater “I Put a Crush on You” and skittering finale “Combat and Courtship”. You may need to be in the right mood for this to grab you — alienation? Righteous anger? — but when you are, boy, does it hit home!
Kamasi Washington’s long-awaited double album Fearless Movement is every bit as kickass and sprawling as previous spectaculars The Epic and Heaven and Earth (the latter my 2018 Album of the Year), but somehow settles in a gentler, more welcoming vein. It kicks off with “Lesanu”, an Egyptian Orthodox chant of Psalm 96 riding first a free-jazz slam, then a finger-snapping, hand-clapping vamp and ends with “Prologue”, an Astor Piazzolla tango that morphs into a blaxploitation movie theme; at all points within and between, Washington on tenor sax, keyboardists Cameron Graves and Brandon Coleman, Ryan Porter and Dontae Winslow on brass, and a platoon of guests play and sing up a storm. But slower burning tracks like “Asha the First” and “Together” provide respite from the intensity of Washington’s sweep and surge, and a looser, relaxed sense of momentum on the Zapp cover “Computer Love” and the extended workout “Road to Self (KO)” helps you catch your breath. Washington and his friends are still making audacious spiritual jazz, building from whispers to screams again and again and dancing across barlines like they don’t exist; but somehow this set feels more like a place to make a home than a monument to visit. And yes, this one’s gonna be on my Favorites list this time around, too . . .
And sometimes, you just need some down-home picking and singing. On the heels of selling out the Ryman Auditorium (documented on record to great effect last year) and duetting with Willie Nelson, Charley Crockett pitches a passel of new songs our way on $10 Cowboy(LISTEN HERE) As with much of Crockett’s recent work, this album leans into soul nearly as much as country; the choogling brass and choral vocals of “America”, the piano-with-strings heartbreaker “Gettin’ Tired Again” and the funky “Diamond in the Rough” can’t help but call Motown and Memphis to mind. But there’s plenty of Nashville/Austin classicism too, in the steel guitar-laced single “Hard Luck and Circumstances”, the Latin-flavored acoustic revenge ballad “Spade” and the honky tonk shuffle “Ain’t Done Losing It” Whether this is the long-predicted breakthrough for Crockett or not, $10 Cowboy is a thoroughly satisfying album, capturing sharply defined snapshots of a nation wondering when things will get better.
And (thanks to the copious music collection found at the main branch of the Grand Rapids Public Library), I discovered that Sierra Ferrell’s 2021 debut Long Time Coming is every bit as good as her new one (Trail of Flowers, reviewed last time). My entire notes for this one consisted of the word “WOW!!”, so I’ll just point you in the direction of this review (from my go-to site for genre news and reviews, Saving Country Music), add Long Time Coming to my 2024 Favorites list and look forward to hearing her live in September!
I’ve kept a spiral-bound notebook titled “Core Discs: The Honor Roll” since the mid-1990s, when I was deeply into a classical music binge at the height of that genre’s last recording boom. Over the years, as I migrated through jazz (courtesy of the Ken Burns documentary) and country/folk (blame Johnny Cash & Leonard Cohen) back into my earlier love of rock, I find it intriguing that my picks started shifting in tandem with the prog revival of the 21st century, long before I started writing for this site in 2017. But unlike Bryan’s methodology for finalizing his excellent list, when I sat down to pick my ten favorite albums of the last ten years, I looked at my top favorite for each year and said, “yeah, those are all still up there.” Which is why I also decided to just list them by the year of their release (not always the year I first heard them) instead of ranking them from 10 to 1. (Oh, and links to my original reviews are embedded in the artist/album listing from 2017 onward.)
It’s true that, in more recent years, my picks have been busting out of genre boundaries — but, if you’ve been generous enough to sample my wares before, you’ve probably figured that out. And hey, if such a tendency isn’t progressive, then what is? Whether the following list confirms or challenges your preconceptions of “what’s prog”, I fervently believe that every one of these albums is worth checking out — but be warned, your mileage may vary!
So, without further adieu:
2012 – Flying Colors:gotta agree with Time Lord here — this one’s a total winner from start to finish. Neal Morse and Mike Portnoy had captivated me long before this with the first three Transatlantic releases and Morse’s two Testimony albums, but Flying Colors showcased an even broader stylistic range, from the Beatlesque “Fool In My Heart” through the retro-80s prog-pop vibe of “Blue Ocean” and “Kayla” to the cutting-edge Museings of “Shoulda Coulda Woulda” and “All Fall Down”. The album also proved that Morse and Portnoy know how to pick collaborators! Guitarist Steve Morse applied his unique mix of Southern-fried chicken pickin’, fusion a la Mahavishnu John McLaughlin and Purpleish power riffs to winning effect (solidly supported by his longtime bassist Dave LaRue), and vocalist Casey McPherson proved he could run with the big boys, stirring fresh melodic and lyrical flavors into every track, including more familiar constructions like the inspirational “The Storm” and the epic finale “Infinite Fire”. This one also gets nostalgia points for being available at Best Buy stores back in the day (remember when you could get CDs there?).
2013 – Big Big Train, English Electric Full Power: OK, I actually didn’t discover this one until 2016, when the BBT bug finally bit me — more on this in a future post. And while I sort of wish I had done so earlier, maybe hearing EEFP on the British trip my wife and I took the year it was released would have been too much of a good thing! Steeped in a love of their native land and affectionate empathy for its people, Greg Spawton and David Longdon doubled down on the longform approach of 2009’s The Underfall Yard to probe forgotten milestones of British history (“The First Rebreather”, the heart-stopping “East Coast Racer”) and portray unforgettable characters (“Uncle Jack”, “Curator of Butterflies”) against a bucolic landscape (“Upton Heath”, “The Permanent Way”), along with the perennial challenges of the heart (“The Lovers”) and the soul (“A Boy in Darkness”, “Judas Unrepentant”). All in a style that recalled original prog touchstones (looking at you, Gabriel-era Genesis) but blended in the dizzying guitar of Dave Gregory and the wicked drum grooves of Nick D’Virgilio to awesome effect. The two separate volumes of English Electric and the Make Some Noise EP certainly have their charms, but in the scope and sequence of this complete package, Spawton, Longdon and company touched on perfection.
2014 – Dave Kerzner, New World: another late arrival in my collection, this is the album that convinced me a genuine prog-rock revival was afoot beyond the continuing efforts of Morse/Portnoy and Steven Wilson. Kerzner’s mastery of cinematic soundscapes was evident from the first Floydian flourish of “Stranded” to the closing upward spiral of “Redemption”; his ability to involve guest stars like Steve Hackett and Keith Emerson, as well as quality players like guitarist Fernando Perdomo and Nick D’Virgilio (him again!), bore impressive results; and his intuitive grasp of pop hooks proved a solid foundation for irresistible shorter songs like “The Lie” and “Nothing”. Stir in longer, brooding tracks “Into the Sun”, “Under Control” and “My Old Friend” (in memory of performer/producer/polymath Kevin Gilbert), and you had a consistently gripping effort. Whether in its single-disc or deluxe double-disc format, New World aimed high and hit every target that a latter-day concept album could — thoroughly immersive, richly compelling and a breakthrough kick-off for Kerzner’s ongoing solo career.
2015 – Steven Wilson, Hand. Cannot. Erase: speaking of latter-day concept albums . . . Seems like *everyone*, especially the ex-SW fans who think he lost the plot with To The Bone and The Future Bites now cite this as his best effort; me, I remember the online ruckus when “Perfect Life” became the pre-release single. (“IT’S! TOO! POP!” As I’ve said before, if only they had known . . .) But as Bryan mentions in his article, Wilson struck conceptual paydirt with the true story of Joyce Carol Vincent’s lonely death, unearthing both the bleakness and the beauty inherent in a life of urban isolation. His sharp, highly committed writing met its match in the blistering playing of his band: guitarist Guthrie Govan (“Regret #9), keyboardist Adam Holzman (“Home Invasion”) and singer Ninet Tayeb (“Routine”) all have some of their best recorded moments featured here. HCE’s enduring appeal does partially stem from its similarity to Porcupine Tree in their prime — but both Wilson’s musical growth in the intervening years and his return to a humane lyrical vision after the voyeurism of Insurgentes and Grace for Drowning were what made the difference then, and now. The melancholy inherent in the final track “Happy Returns” still feels like we’re mourning a life, lived and lost, for real.
2016 – Marillion, FEAR: that rare example of a band hitting a creative and commercial peak simultaneously. Marillion as a band got even more serious about musical substance here, with lush, detailed sonic backdrops adding depth and resonance to their smash-cut collages. All of which fused seamlessly with Steve Hogarth’s lyrical concerns — for example, the opener “El Dorado” built from self-satisfied, affluent peace to twitchy paranoia, as the lyrics and music stewed in the pressure cooker of an over-connected, unsettled world. The heartfelt road narrative of “The Leavers” made a consummate live epic that captured the special relationship between the band and its fans, while ominous closer “The New Kings” (capped by H’s heartbroken refrain, “Why is nothing ever true?”) still seems way too spooky — and way too relevant six years later. Since its release, FEAR’s success has enabled Marillion to go from strength to strength both live (as I witnessed in 2018) and with their equally powerful follow-up, this year’s superb An Hour Before It’s Dark. Which testifies to its ongoing impact, then and now.
Here are the albums of new music from 2018 that grabbed me on first or second listen, then compelled repeated plays. I’m not gonna rank them except for those that achieved Top Favorite status, which I’ll save for the very end. The others are listed alphabetically by artist. (Old school style, that is — last names first where necessary!) Links to the ones I’ve previously reviewed are embedded in the album titles. But first, a graphic tease …
“There are dark parts to life. We all want to tuck our heads down and cry somewhere. But there’s a lot that’s really beautiful. It’s amazing, a blessing, that we have all these influences. That’s what this album is saying: you don’t have to be overwhelmed.” — Kamasi Washington, quoted in July 2018’s MOJO magazine.
If you take mainstream American media seriously (just once, for fun), Kamasi Washington is the latest Savior Of Jazz. Leading a vanguard of hot young musicians from South Central Los Angeles, Washington has been everywhere at once since he emerged in 2004, working in the bands Young Jazz Giants and Throttle Elevator Music, playing with R&B/hip-hop stars like Snoop Dogg and Flying Lotus, even writing string charts for Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly.
In 2015, Washington unleashed his first solo statement, The Epic, and the jazz world was understandably blown away. The 3 hour, 3-CD concept album, performed by The West Coast Get Down (Washington’s 13-piece, double-rhythm section band) with strings and choir, channels the “spiritual jazz” of 1960s heroes like John Coltrane and Sun Ra into a fluid, expansive historical survey of black consciousness. One example of the man’s range and ambition: Disc Three, subtitled The Historic Repetition, whipsaws from Charlie Parker’s “Cherokee” through Claude Debussy’s “Clair de lune” to Terence Blanchard’s “Theme for Malcolm,” moving from a whisper to a scream, contentment to anguish, simplicity to maximum overdrive with seemingly effortless mastery and power.
Crossing over to a wider public, Kamasi Washington had it all, and everyone wanted him on their side (critic Greg Tate, riffing on Washington’s work with Kendrick Lamar, tagged him as “the jazz voice of Black Lives Matter”). After The Epic, the floodgates opened: Washington composed a suite for New York’s Whitney Biennial, guested across the modern musical spectrum, and toured worldwide — including a stop in Ann Arbor, where I heard his 8-piece band The Next Step live in 2016.
So when you’re on top of the heap, or in the center of the storm, where do you go next? With Heaven and Earth (only a double album — but hold that thought!) Washington makes a classic move, diving deep into a personal take on African-American spirituality, with new music informed by the gospel tradition and the blues. As he said to the British magazine Dazed:
The inspiration for that is this idea I had that the world is the way we imagine it to be, but it’s also informed by the way we experience it … The journey, you realise, is one and the same: how you imagine the world affects how you experience it. The world your mind lives in, lives in your mind.