Not having the time pressures of a “proper music journalist” means that I have the opportunity to mull and digest an album I am given for review as I’m not on a specific dead line most times. Occasionally I am asked to get one done quickly but thankfully I am not on this album. I have played this one through a couple of times a night through headphones while reading since it was sent to me. You could call it a longevity test or the fact It makes great night time listening while immersed in a novel. Both are true in this case as the album will take repeated listening and doesn’t become tiresome in any way.
Most people who know me are aware I am fascinated by the human condition and people politics and this album ticks those boxes and then some. The band describe the album thus;
“Black Science is a musically powerful progressive rock album that thematically explores the dark side of humanity and technology.”
I would agree that it is thematic rather than a concept as the songs do connect and flow excellently and explore modern life and the challenges that are very prescient in the minds of many. Yet I would say it will not become dated in any way.
Opening with a short track Armistice Day, highly reminiscent of a Roger Waters’ vocal style, it’s a doom laden post apocalypse electronic minute and a half that drops straight into Weimar, with a truly ‘Prog’ keyboards, piano and guitar symphonic introduction followed by a very open vocal . It’s very odd as I read this as a narrative close to the series “Handmaidens Tale” currently unsettling the public on Channel 4. There are musical hints of a backward baroque Harpsichord in the vocal breaks then a huge rocking out of synths and general guitar indulgence. Time and key changes rip through this 10 minute mini-epic, a treatise on society’s misogyny and patriarchal dominance. One caveat with this is my reading of the song and I may be off the mark and seeing something that the band don’t.
Cannons Cry opens with a heavy riff and a martial theme that warns of the rise of fascism and the use of propaganda to drive towards an oncoming war of the destruction of common values and principles. These guys are fans of classic Waters/Gilmour Floyd and though this is obvious but not in any way that is derogatory, only complimentary, to the music.
Airfield on Sunwick is very very English despite these guys being Ontario based. Fans of Big Big Train will find solace in a track that is very spartan in structure with lots of space in the music. Guesting on vocals on this, Jakub Olejnik (of band Sound Of Maze) adds real authenticity. This is a song of tragic conscription and the loss of country by Polish refugees in the post 1939 invasion period. Referencing Wojtek, a bear adopted and given a rank of private in the forces in World War two. It has a beautiful tone and quality about it.
Black Science is a real homage to the 70s if ever I heard one. A warning of the darker side of the misuse of science, a very simple tune and the use of the saxophone solo at the end literally took straight back to 1973 as Josh Norling superbly channels the spirit of the use of the instrument so effectively, deliberately referencing our nostalgia for a supposedly better time.
Noise to Signal, the closer on the album, is a real standout track for me combining doom chords and huge sounds to scare the pants of you in a treatise on how social media has filled our lives with noise over substance. Not a second is wasted on this track and it’s as tight as you could possibly get in a studio recording.
The eight tracks on this, their third album, show huge maturity and discipline in writing and production. It is crafted excellently and thoughtfully and fans of music in general will find much to enjoy in this album. Fans of the progressive genre particularly should lap it up as it carries a sense of the past while being still relevant to the early 21st century. These Canadians have a touch and an ear for music that needs to be shared.
Machines Dream are:
Brian Holmes: Keyboards. Craig West: Bass and vocals. Jake Rendell: Acoustic and backing vocals. Ken Coulter: Drums. Rob Coleman: Lead guitar.
“Humor keeps us alive. Humor and food. Don’t forget food. You can go a week without laughing.”
― Joss Whedon
“Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
To be honest, I never thought I’d use a quote from a Harry Potter novel in one of my reviews either but it is really relevant. Humour in music can be really clever, incisive and actually work or it can be excruciatingly unfunny and spoil the whole record. When that humour is witty and full of wry observations of relationships and life in general then it can lift the music to a whole different level.
When a good friend of mine (and bass player with Sleeperman) Stephen Skinner described their music as a cross between Alan Bennett and Ian Dury & The Blockheads I was definitely intrigued. After watching a video of them singing a track from the new E.P. live on social media I was hooked!
A levity filled 12 minutes of music, ‘Late Onset Optimism’ is full of sharp social comment and brilliant wordplay where the whimsical lyrics written by published poet and the band’s vocalist John Hilton have been set to music by Stephen and the rest of the band, Neil Scott (guitar) and Joel Cash (drums).
Sleeperman have played music since vinyl was not just the hipster choice but the only choice of music format – for and with artistes such as Everything But The Girl, Felt, Denim, Orange Juice and Edwyn Collins.
The band are from a generation brought up to pick the bones from a confusing diet of Clint Eastwood and Germaine Greer and remember when the only late night TV was The Open University and a time before smoothies. They embrace the work of Ian Dury, Fred Dibnah, Alan Bennett and The Buzzcocks, Ken Loach and The Kinks but cannot endorse films based on video games or careless use of the word ‘baby.’ They are trying to write and perform catchy songs about what now is like and embrace and cling to the old-fashioned idea of everyone getting along.
(L-R Neil, John, Stephen & Joel)
After the opening guitar flourish for I Put The Bullets In But Can’t Pull The Trigger, Neil launches into a Duane Eddy ‘Peter Gunn’ style riff that’s as catchy as hell and John’s semi-spoken vocal adds real atmosphere to this song about the age old conundrum of how to end a relationship. Joel and Stephen’s subtle rhythm section guides the track along at a jaunty lick and, as you listen to the incisive lyrics, a big grim spreads over your face. We’ve all struggled with trying to end a relationship and not being able to say the final words. This is my first introduction to John’s wicked lyrics:
“I wish I had the sense to just get rid, like Shane or The Milky Bar Kid, but you need bigger balls than I’ve got to clean up Dodge the way they did..”
That about sums it all up on this song full of modern metaphors, the music is brilliant, Neil’s mariachi-esque guitar solo a case in point, and the lyrics are full of social comment but with a real wry sense of humour.
A song about a quirky relationship, Accrington Not Hollywood sees the music and John’s vocal take on a wistful and nostalgic tone, the lyrics full of gentle humour. There’s a real feeling of bonhomie running throughout this track, a proper feelgood piece of music.
“You thought us star crossed lovers cos we’d not had many others, you called it fate and kismet though I hadn’t met your Mum yet…”
There’s a hypnotic, lilting tone to John’s voice that just draws you in, I don’t know why, but it really took me back to the sepia tinged black and white pictures of the 50’s that I’ve seen, when the world seemed a simpler and better place.
A bittersweet love song, Just Talking opens with a gentle guitar intro before John’s dulcet tones join in with a plaintive edge added to his sweet sounding vocal. There’s a regretful feel to the lyrics, like a man unsure of what he wants and how to express it.
“I didn’t just fall from the tree, you might fool them, you won’t fool me. It’s just something I thought I’d mention, don’t pay me any attention…”
There’s a delicate balance between happy and sad, heavy-hearted and walking on clouds that goes one way and then the other as the song continues. It’s beautiful but there’s darkness deep within.
The four track E.P. finishes on an uplifting note with the wonderful dysfunctional friends that are the subjects of This Is Us Lot. A funky, jazz infused rhythm is given by Stephen’s smooth bass and Joel’s stylish drums, add in Neil’s infectious guitar with its New Orleans tone and John’s cutting lyrics and you have a brilliant piece of social satire. Imagine Billy Bragg on happy pills and you wouldn’t be far wrong!
“You catch up with Mandy, it’s while since you’ve seen her, she spent a month as Joe Longthorne’s cleaner, caught him plucking his eyebrows, cursing his mother, downing glasses of Baileys one after the other…”
I find myself imagining these characters as real people, a musical version of Shameless even and the short but exceedingly addictive chorus just sticks in your mind becoming an irreversible earworm. All too soon the song and the E.P. come to a close and I find myself with a knowing grin on my face, that was thoroughly enjoyable!
Wit, humour and social commentary make for excellent bedfellows in music when it is written and performed as well as this. Incisive, socially conscious and yet sometimes irreverent and witty lyrics that we can all relate to married to music of the highest quality, folk, alt-rock, country and good old rock n’ roll and a little birdy tells me that a full-length album is mooted to be in the wings for later this year…
“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.”
― Ernst F. Schumacher
In this ever increasingly complex life that we lead it is nice some times to have a bit of simplicity to allow us to take stock and have a little breather from our hectic and convoluted lives. For every million note Dream Theater solo from John Petrucci there is a counter balance in music that has an absence of complication, that can be enjoyed for it’s lack of elaboration and Chris Topham at Plane Groovy has sent me over a vinyl album that just captivates with it’s beauty, a beauty achieved through it’s ethereal sparseness.
Damian Wilson and Adam Wakeman got together in 2015/2016 to record 9 new acoustic songs that would become the album ‘Weir Keeper’s Tale’. This was released in 2016 and now Plane Groovy are releasing the vinyl version complete with wonderful album art by John Townshend.
Adam said that, “With this album, Damian and I both wanted to capture a real cohesive album of our songs outside of the writing we do with Headspace and other heavier bands. It gave us an opportunity to really focus on the songs as singer songwriters, and to concentrate on telling individual stories.”
And this collection of stories has been crafted into beautiful songs and given the home they deserve on this wonderful vinyl package.
(album art by John Townshend)
Once I’ve extracted the album from the shrink-wrap I get to admire the brilliant album art on both the sleeve and the inner liner, it truly is a thing of beauty and just oozes quality, what I’ve come to expect from a man as passionate about vinyl as Chris Topham is.
There’s satisfaction to be had from just handling the vinyl package and pouring over the liner notes after I’ve let the needle gently land on the record and the first notes ring out, the sound wonderfully rich and warm, not like the clinical music you get from CDs and digital.
Damian Wilson has a brilliant voice, powerful, deep and resonating but on this album we see the more humble and gentle side of him, as the graceful piano of Adam Wakeman opens Seek For Adventure you’re immediately put into a mood of repose and calm and then Damian’s voice joins in and it is just captivating. Together with the simple instrumentation it has a grace and charm and not a little wistfulness too. I was left open mouthed by the impact that this uncomplicated delivery could give. Adam’s backing vocals are unobtrusive but really add to the childlike innocence that the song conveys. Just sit back and enjoy this effortlessly classy music. The tempo increases with the title track Weir Keeper’s Tale, the piano has a bit more urgency and Damian’s vocal a touch more intensity but the wonderful warmth and bonhomie are still present and correct. It’s a humble and inelaborate little ditty that moves along at a jaunty pace and leaves such a feeling of goodwill in its wake. The choral backing is a lovely touch and adds even more elegance to this unembellished track, a short but exceedingly sweet piece of nostalgic artistry.
Adam Wakeman takes over vocal duties for the dreamy and thoughtful Catch You when You Fall with Damian providing the delicate acoustic guitar backing. Here the sparseness levels are at their highest, the music stripped back bare of any unnecessary trappings and it works brilliantly as a result. The guitar provides the opening bars allowing you to clear your mind of any frivolous thoughts and concentrate on what you are about to hear. Adam has quite a striking voice with an earnestness at its core and it really fits the song, a calm authority settling on proceedings. As I’ve said before, these songs really work on a vinyl release, the music is rounded and full of character, warmth and charm.
Damian himself said, “How we ever got convinced that the CD was a better medium than Vinyl, I will never understand. Cramming music onto a 16 bit CD loses a lot of information. The best way to hear what’s missing is to listen to the vinyl.”
With a feel of a singer/songwriter’s track Together Alone opens with that rich piano note that Adam conjurs up at will before Damian’s heartfelt vocal begins. There’s an almost melancholy tone but you can’t help but be caught up in the exquisitely delivered music. There’s a memorable chorus that I can’t help but sing along to and the whole track moves along at a fairly sharp clip. Actually making music this simple and yet so mesmerisng is an art in itself.
Murder In A Small Town is like a very short story (4 minutes and fifty-two second to be precise) that has been set to music, an American noir novel sung to you by Damian himself. The tender vocals and fragile acoustic guitar add an ethereal feel to the song and you soon get lost in its sublime and intangible ambience. I feel like I’m in a a shadowy half-world of calm serenity. The piano solo in the middle is a thing of heavenly refinement and adds even more gracefulness, it actually takes me a few seconds before I realise that I’m listening to silence as the needle comes to the close of side one.
Side two starts with the excellent Freedom Is Everything, the opening notes from the piano set up a rather engaging song that, again, has a feel of the great singer/songwriters to it, in fact I’d go as far to say that it actually reminds me a bit of early Simon and Garfunkel. Damian delivers another ardent and heartfelt vocal performance that comes straight from his heart, there’s passion and devotion dripping from every note and the simple but effective piano accompaniment is genius. When I’m sat back with a nice glass of red wine in my hand and listening to this beauteous creation, I’m in a very happy place indeed. There’s a somber feel as God Be My Judge begins, the acoustic guitar and Damian’s vocal give a contemplative and thoughtful edge to the song and the backing vocals in the background add a really wishful tone. A fragility runs throughout, a slight catch in Damian’s voice and the near intangibility of the guitar, a piece of music with its heart laid bare for all to see and judge. There’s a lump in my throat and moisture in my eye as it comes to a close.
That emotion stays with me as we come to the penultimate track and one of my favourites on the whole album. People Come And Go opens with a powerful, almost forlorn piano note and Damian has real pathos in his vocal, a subdued guitar in the background. The yearning feel disappears as the piano takes a harder tone and the tempo increases, Damian adds even more emotion and poignance to his voice leading into a hauntingly memorable chorus that has become a real ear worm for me. An incredible piece of music that touches my heart and really moves me on an emotional level. It’s a song that I keep returning to on a regular basis, maybe it’s the subject matter, I don’t know, I just love it and the part where everything goes quiet before bursting out into that brilliant chorus again is just inspired. So to the final track on the this release and what a way to bow out. Cold is the epitome of simplicity and grace, the beauty of a delicately strummed acoustic guitar matched with Damian Wilson’s exquisite and heartfelt vocal is near perfection. A song that takes wistfulness to a whole new level and one that takes you to a place of calm reflection, the fragile and tender guitar playing that closes out the song and the album is just divine and as the needle reaches the final grooves I just sit there in silent admiration.
This is one album that always seems to be on my record deck or playing in the car. A testimony to Damian Wilson and Adam Wakeman, it is an absolutely timeless record that takes music at its most simple and lifts it above the mere excellent and onto another level altogether. Nine incredible songs that deliver both emotionally and intellectually to give a listening experience like no other, I cannot recommend it highly enough but please buy the vinyl as that is what makes it so special.
I confess I have never heard of Isildurs Bane before, and yet the Swedish band have been going since the 1976, well renowned for their complex music and their own festival known as the IB Expo. It was at one of these expo’s where Steve Hogarth guested that they invited him to record an album with them.
We should all be grateful that he said yes.
Having been known for the past 30 years as the voice of Marillion, let’s not forget that Hogarth has a strong musical pedigree outside of Marillion, firstly with How We Live, and their seminal album ‘Dry Land‘ (reissued, ripe for reappraisal on Esoteric last year) and of course his solo projects, of which both ‘Ice Cream Genius’ and the collaboration with Richard Barbieri, ‘Not the Weapon but the Hand’ are prime examples of his versatility.
Stepping outside of his musical comfort zone see’s Hogarth in surprisingly strong form, his powerful and distinctive vocals dominate this album, whilst the musical prowess and ingenuity of Isildurs Bane weave an amazing sonic tapestry for him to work his magic.
I thought H was at his finest on last years ‘F.E.A.R‘, I was wrong.
This is the strongest I have heard him for years, and working with different musicians has brought something totally different to his songwriting.
The approach taken by main man Matts Johannson on keyboards with composition is to focus on the music and let H bring the vocals, and as approaches go, it’s one that works perfectly.
H sounds like he has free rein to go where the music takes him, and a band with as broad a palette as Isildurs Bane gives him plenty of space and scope to get there.
This album clocks in at 41 minutes, with 6 tracks, and not one moment is wasted, not one lyric feels out of place. Whilst the music veers from contemporary rock, to atmospheric sounds, folk elements, jazz, stabs of brass and strings, pulling together a diverse and eclectic sound to a coherent whole.
This is a song cycle, not a concept but a collection of songs around the same theme, life and love, all delivered with poetry and passion by H all underpinned by the musical dexterity of Isildurs Bane.
From the opening Ice Pop (from which the title is derived) and the lyrical phrase ‘Up, down, Left right’ which doesn’t sound the most inspiring, but which returns later on, the song flows beautifully into The Random Fires, as the lyrics and music flow conceptually and powerfully.
Peripheral Vision, features some of the most atmospheric music on the album, allowing Hogarth to sound his most wistful, and by golly his range is apparent on this record, from rock to ballads, and half whispered vocals to full on power, he sounds like a man reborn. He sounds like he is relishing this challenge, and by stepping outside of the Marillion bubble he has really pushed himself, and the results are an absolute joy to behold.
The longest track on the album, The Love and the Affair, with it’s list of day to day things that love does (pushes the children on the swing etc) and it’s counter reaction to the mundanety of these acts, reflects musically the impact of what looking outside of the established relationship does in one of the most powerful tracks on the album.
I know that on albums like this the singer is also the actor, placing themselves in the protagonists role, but if H hasn’t had any experience of the devastation an affair can have, then by God he deserves an Oscar.
Musically the band tone it down for Diamonds and Amnesia, with its chamber music accompaniment, and more of H’s low key vocals is a precursor to what I think is the strongest tracks on the album, and if there were such a thing, the hit single from the album.
Starting where the first track started, spoken word vocals, almost a confession or a life plan, and those lyrics again ‘Left Right, Up Down’ and some fantastically insistent music from the band, H’s lyrics are almost an instruction ‘Watch carefully’ he instructs and as the band blasts into some fantastic musical interludes, Incandescentpulls the finest points of this album together, as Klas Assarssons vibraphones and marimbas dance under the track and build and build to an astonishing crescendo as the Axel Crone’s brass section blasts through the air, and H echoes round the musical maelstrom.
The mighty musical work of this band is sublime, and the way all the musicians intertwine to create 6 songs that allow Steve Hogarth to stamp his presence on them is a testament to both parties vision.
This a wonderfully vibrant collaboration and one that shows what happens when two parties working in slightly different spectrums bring their joint vision to bear on the music.
Having worked with Marillion and now Isildurs Bane, it wouldn’t surprise me to see Steve Hogarth with Gandalfs Fist next.
Seriously though this is a mighty powerful album, one that sounds fresh, contemporary and timeless. One that could well be up there as an album of the year, and who said you can’t teach old progs new tricks?
The following fragment of my review was recovered from the hard drive of my (now deceased) PC. This new shining Windows 10 machine is sleek, slim and functional, but does it like Prog?
One way to find out – Mr Andy Summers, if you please :-
“TRIBOLUMINESCENCE is actually a scientific word that means creating light from dark, which I believe is a great metaphor for any creative act and, especially, music.”
These words from the press release accompanying these tracks are perfect for encapsulating the feelings evoked listening to these 9 instrumentals. As I listened for the first time, I decided to be a grown-up reviewer and scribble notes as I listened, almost word association, but musical links rather than words. I then realised that even I can’t read my writing!
Anyway. I persuaded a lonely spider to decipher my scrawl and add his views. I then read the press release where a lot of technical information about capos, guitar tunings and stuff to please guitar nerd’s lives. I’m not a musician, but my ears know a few, so my impressions of this album are set out below.
One caveat – If you subscribe to the view that Prog is all about bands from the seventies singing epics, or modern bands recreating those seventies bands, then this album might cause you to break out in hives. There are complex drum patterns, guitars noodle away and tracks last more than 4 minutes.
The most “PROG” of them is the opener, if Anything which has a lovely, mellow Pink Floyd vibe to it, more “Shine On” than “Roxanne” if you like. Summers’ guitar soars over a bubbling brook of synths. The fluidity of the guitar also caused my brain to think of Funkadelic’s masterclass in evocative slow sustained emotional guitar, “Maggot Brain”.
A great start and I’m a happy listener as this ticks my boxes – it sends goose bumps up and down my arms as I listen.
The second offering, the title track Triboluminescence , has some great percussion and a bass line that conjures up an image of Mick Karn and Ryuichi Sakamoto jamming with Mr Summers on this track. It has a nice Eastern vibe to it and flows along like a Japanese Zen garden stream full of enlightened carp. The little guitar motifs grow and as they weave in and out of the mix like those fish surfacing between the water lilies of percussion, I’m drawn into the soundscape of this Zen garden. Eddie Hazel* is a point of reference once again, with the sustained flow of guitar throughout this track, a continual stream of notes flowing from the dexterous fingers of the guitarist.
*Eddie Hazel – legendary Lead guitarist of Funkadelic. George Clinton, whilst allegedly under the influence of yellow acid, famously told him to play “As If he’d heard his mother had just died”! That 10-minute improvisation went down in history and there are echoes of it in the guitar lines on this album.
By now, we are deep into Jazz territory, with track 3 sounding like Miles Davis and the groove is strong in this one. After that, there is a series of 1’s and 0’s. lots of them. In a random pattern. This means something. I know it does. What? I’m not sure. I will dig out the download of the album and see if it can translate them for me.
Ok, plan Z. instead of scribbling as I listen, let’s be scientific and type.
This is a one shot live as I listen review, all similarities are mine, they may not work for you, but that says more about the way my head links things than is healthy outside of a couch and a Psychiatry session!
Adinkra – Miles Davis as I said before. There is that vibe in a muted trumpet behind the beat, but the dominating instrument here is a drum, or rather a percussive type of instrument as it crashes and bangs high enough in the mix to overpower the delicate instrumentation. There’s a hypnotic melody played on sampled guitar that sounds like a clarinet, a trumpet and all float and glide up to the 3rd minute. Then a huge bass drum drags the rhythm off in a reggae direction. It’s almost a dub piece now, but he guitar motif is now African and fragmenting, little drips of notes falling from the branches of the jazz tree. Then it breaks down again, this time returning to the Miles Davis theme, but with the guitar scribbling all over the margins.
Prog? who knows ? more to the point, does it matter? If I said it was post bebop fragmented jazz tinged progressive post rock, would it still sound as sweet?
Track 4 , Elephant Bird, continues what is becoming a world tour, with discordant brass over a shimmering gamelan style guitar tune that ebbs and flows , with a very Middle eastern feel to it, especially the later part where an electric guitar arrives straight from the tubular bells album, sustained and octave shifting like a heat haze in a desert, the almost frippertronic backing adding to the Egyptian feel.
In fact, that sense of King Crimson déjà vu strikes again on the next track, Shadyland, which is all Robert Fripp and Steve Hillage looping around a laid back Bill Laswell bass and cymbals pattern. The repetitive guitar parts are deceptively simple, but layered and combining with the bass part create a jungle scene of aural beauty , with birds calling from the trees at dusk and the wind stirring above us in the canopy.
Haunted Dolls is all Zappa and freaky, next up, Gigantopithecus has that off kilter drum sound again, it’s not as if Andy Summers doesn’t know any drummers and had to rely on a couple of pots and a cardboard box is it? There is more of the subdued Fripp riffing in the background again, this is more reminiscent of “3 of a Perfect Pair” era KC, where thy attempt to out “Talking Head”David Byrne. The track wouldn’t be out of place on “Speaking In Tongues” or “Fear Of Music”, except it lacks Byrne’s literate lyrics.
Pukul Bunye Bunye follows on swiftly, another piece that thumps away whilst a guitar almost fumbles its way through the tune. Again, the percussion dominates , with the guitar acting as a counterpoint to the complex patterns being bashed out here. It gets louder and more frantic, with big tub thumper drums and big open chord guitars taking over before leaving this wonderful middle piece of a pair of spiralling guitars, slowly unwinding the tune and rearranging it before the drums pick up the new beat and all concerned fall off the stage.
Finally, Garden of the Sea invites us to view the fishes whilst contemplating the sheer sensuality of a cello playing slowly over the little sampled guitar chirrups as the waves slowly cause the seaweed forest to ebb and flow The track is slow and gentle, the sounds drift along gracefully with the guitar parts seeming to bunch up together and spill over each other, a shoal of notes swimming in the kelp forest whilst the cello evokes the tides, ebbing and flowing all around us.
The whole of the album is an exercise in shapes and textures, the antithesis to all those “Guitarist’s guitarist” albums which rely on someone rehashing bits of classical music either very loudly or at hyper speed, or both. Mr Summers is having a ball here, indulging himself in textures and sound patterns rather than simple song, and the album is stronger because of this experimentation.
Would I buy it? Hmm. Tricky. It’s very pleasant to listen to, and by its instrumental nature, would be ideal dinner party music, or music to study to.
It’s not bland wallpaper music though and if it was on in the background, I’d find myself stopping to listen as the little hooks and splashes worm their way in. When I’m in an ambient sort of Brian Eno / Future Sound of London / The Orb sort of mood, then this would fit in nicely.
In fact, I could create Spotify playlist of all the bands and tracks that my head associated with this album as I played it, but that would take another couple of hours and Martin is already chasing me for this piece! So, if you fancy a blast of ambient noise, then this would be a good way to spend an hour.
There follows a transcript smuggled out from under the noses of our Chicken overlords, we have been unable to verify the authenticity of the document, or indeed what happened to the brave rebel who made this recording but we can only hope he is safe, Mubla praise him.
‘Is this on…..can you hear me? Can you hear me? As you all know they rose up suddenly, whilst we were all distracted by Brexit, Trump and Armageddon, we were too busy worrying about ourselves to notice the chickens….then, they there were, they hadn’t just crossed the road, they’d built a nice big tunnel, snuck into the army bases around the world, and as we were reeling from the aftermath of the big red spark, there they were, our new overlords.
Luckily there were few with foresight, those who knew about the upcoming uprising, and the wisest of them all, some called him a seer, some a mad man, some called the twiceborn moth, all we know is he is called the Wizard Ramsay, and with his coterie around him, and a set of tantalising clues and lessons, spread throughout the world, our journey has led us here.
Who are we? You ask, well we are the resistance, following the orders of the one known only as the Great Elephant, and now…well now I am the only one left, I can’t get the image of Brother Godfrey, sitting in his tree getting pecked slowly to death by a thousand chickens as he pledged allegiance to the ducks, or Brother Stevens, the hero of the battle of Rushden, he riffed and looped, fierce to the death.
Now I remain, and I have found what I was looking for, the mystical artefact, the legendary disc of words, we cannot fight them by force alone, we need something new, something to confound and disturb them.
(silence. The voice goes dead…all we can hear is hissing and the sound of claws scraping on rock…)
‘….they’ve gone, that was close, that was a bantam attack, as everyone knows they are the SAS of the chicken army, where was I?
Oh yes, following the instructions on the sheet hidden by one of the Elephant sympathisers, (a gentleman only known as Wizard Wilfred) I have found the Black Box…. (what’s in the Black Box? It’s definitely not chocolates) I have it, the CD in my hand, despite the Chicken overlords banning CD players due to them not being able to operate them with claws, luckily the mysterious man of the resistance known only as Wallet Emptier, managed to provide me with one, wrapped up in the tattered remnants of a wizards sleeve.
(sounds of cellophane being ripped, the unmistakable sound of a CD being inserted into the device, and the words of the beloved Wizard Ramsay, a Gandalf for these modern dark times echo round the chamber? Cavern? Sewer?)
Almost as if he predicted it, the first utterance from the disc of Ramsay is a Living Will, full of intensity and power, as if he knew this day would come.
Scattered throughout the sacred artefact are four lessons that will help ensure the survival of our species, all starting with the phrase ‘Ecoute et Repete’ the motto of the resistance, each one being a salutary lesson before the public service broadcasting begins.
Urging the survivors to Open a Hole, someone to survive in? somewhere to take shelter? I am reminded of the sage Moorcock as he told his tales with and without his Hawkwind compatriots, the joy of hearing music after so many months of solitary wandering makes me all giddy and euphoric, the beat hypnotic, the lyrics hitting me, and the sonic effect making up for hearing nothing but the sound of clucking and the cracking of whips as the Chickens made us build statues in their honour.
Almost like he forgot the tape was running we get some behind the scenes action from the Ramsay world, as he is interrupted by Wizard Wilfred, clearly the junior partner, and also, judging by the mishap heard here, still has a long way to go before he is as adept as Wizard Ramsay.
Almost as a warning to our hubris and our downfall, Ego Power gives us strong words for uncertain times, whilst channelling the spirit of whimsy, Stanshall and the cult of Python, Tramps In Their Purest Form is a joy to behold, Ramsay’s use of our language is bewitching and beguiling, and takes me back to the night he and the Brother Godfrey got me heroically drunk on Big Big Train beer at a concert in Rotherham, oh how I wish those days were here again.
I raise an imaginary tankard to fallen comrades, as I listen and take heed to the message, we are members of the Black Box Society, and the final victory will be ours. Hidden in plain sight, Hawaii Fried Chicken, ostensibly an alternative version of the Chicken national anthem, are words designed to inspire and enlighten us. When we hear one particular cluck, that is when the revolution will begin, and we shall be victorious, with the Wizard Ramsay leading us to salvation.
If I Rule the World is his vision of our post Hen utopia, a land where we can be free, where we can live like we should, where we can sit in trees naked outside peoples houses if we want to and no-one can stop us (not even that pesky restraining order).
Urban Crusoe, with it’s baffling co-ordinates and Egyptian references, maybe this is Ramsay telling me where I should go next, where I can find the final answer and help the resistance rise, and batter these chicken.
I will follow them…these words of wisdom, and see where they will take me…….’
Transcribers note: this tape was found wrapped in an old t-shirt, under a rock behind a dumpster near a KFC with the CD intact. It is unknown as to what happened to the brave member of the resistance who followed the clues laid down the Elephant to discover this. He did the work so we didn’t have to. Having played it I can safely say that now our chicken overlords have been defeated, this is the work of either a genius or madman or both. Channelling the spirit of Stanshall, Monty Python and old school English surrealism and word play, Wizard Ramsay has created a unique form of Magick, and one that keeps hitting the spot.
Music is a very personal thing both for the artist and the listener, motivational, inspirational, a catharsis on which a musician can bare their soul and the darkest secrets within. It has always been about emotions, happy or sad, a conduit through which a musician can come to terms with the past and look forward to the future. An outlet affording the chance to confront fears, battle them head on and come through the other side eliciting empathy from devoted fans who recognise the difficulties faced in bringing the music to life.
Artists can quite often be protective of their private lives, yet willing to lay raw past experiences and struggles still faced. We have seen some fall by the wayside, being unable to exorcise their inner demons, yet at the same time others find salvation in their music.
So it is with Anathema. They too have had their trials and tribulations, most recently Daniel Cavanagh’s publicised personal struggles, after the well received previous studio album ‘Distant Satellites’. A hiatus over the last twelve months to recuperate and enable him to return to some semblance of normality has led to a moodier album. Thematically picking up from 2001’s ‘A Fine Day To Exit’, the new album sees the band lead us down a darker path, which whilst the music guides you it doesn’t provide answers.
It feels like only a detective/gum-shoe could try to make sense of the tale……
I checked the coordinates of first track ‘32.63N 117.14W’ it gives a location on the west side of Silver Strand State Beach, along San Diego Bay. So I take a turn off the free-way at Chula Vista and drive the Chevy round there. I arrive in time to see some John Doe pulling himself from the surf like a wet rag and stagger his way up the beach. I’ve no clues as to who our protagonist is so I decide to sit back and observe. I roll the knob on my car radio and slip through the channels, there’s a tune, I recognise the band but then lose the reception.
It’s replaced by catchy digital style beats and my fingers drum on the steering wheel in time to the rhythm. The man climbs into the passenger side of a Buick which has pulled out of the Loews Coronado Bay Resort (as guitars kick in) and exit the kerb. I throw the old girl into gear and pursue at a steady distance the voices joining the tune on the radio sound familiar, urgent, but I ain’t got time to think on it further as they speed musically away from my car, they are ‘Leaving It Behind’. It occurs to me the pair may also be fleeing from some sort of trouble.
I step on the gas and close the distance as we cruise the 75 past the Naval Amphibious Base, Coronado and across the bridge. They approach a spaghetti like junction and could go ‘Endless Ways’but heading for the 14A their car slides on to the I-15N, through San Diego and out past Little Italy settling at a steady speed. I notice it’s some blonde dame driving, a pretty little thing. The name Lee comes to mind and I’ve seen her but can’t place where. She has the window down and is singing to the guy beside her, the words float through the balmy air toward me, the broad sure can hold a tune and clearly doesn’t want him to leave her and the dream she’s creating, lucky guy.
Over Ocean Beach Free-way skirting Enchanted and De Anza Coves we bypass Sorento Valley, this could be a long drive. The no name, let’s call him ‘The Optimist’, in the passenger seat starts telling the girl he feels like a rabbit in the headlights but has to run away before it’s too late. She reminisces about the life they’ve left behind as guitar loops and strings rise from the stereo, growing, filling the car with crying guitars to fade on a haunting guitar.
We eat up the miles of piano keys, twitching rhythms in a regular pattern, flying past San Elijo and over the waters of Batiquitos Lagoon State Marine as we draw nearer to ‘San Francisco’. I can’t hear their voices for noises of the night, maybe they’ve stopped talking for a while as we weave through traffic like snakes through a forest, percussion and keys fluttering in the warm breeze.
A large locomotive hurtles by heading North, pulling carriage after carriage, must be fifty at least, mostly passenger. It’s a brief distraction as we approach Carlsbad and they turn off into the Village pulling in at an all night diner, gleaming polished chrome and neon lights. The couple get out of the car (the man has changed his clothes) and go inside. I top up the gas tank at the pump, then park further down the bays, head for the entrance and in. I sit a few tables down from them so I can still see and hear them without raising suspicion. They order and then the waitress comes over to me, asks if I’m eating alone, she’s cute but I ain’t got time for flirting. I order coffee, black and a couple of caramel and marshmallow cream do-nuts, I need to keep my energy levels up.
Headlights pierce the windows then the entrance door swings open and in come four serious looking guys, in denims, hoodies and leather jackets. I know them, it’s the Cavanagh twins, singer/guitarist Vincent and bassist Jamie with troubled brother Daniel, also a singer/guitarist. They grew up amidst a violent background but are all fine musicians these days. Danny Cardoso is with them, I recognise him from a magazine shot, the article said he’s a good keyboard player. They join the two I’ve been following saying their ‘hello’s’ and it clicks, the siblings Douglas. John’s a drummer who has struggled with a drug problem and his sister Lee, with the dreamy voice, is the one who picked him up at the beach. So the old Anathema crew are back together again.
I sit and listen, it’s quiet in here apart from the music in the background, a relaxed tune of guitars and keys. They talk and Lee starts singing softly to the tune and wondering “How did I get here, I don’t belong here…”. The music intensifies and I’m only getting brief snatches of conversation, mention of ‘Springfield’, but that’s way up the coast beyond Frisco, maybe they intend going there.
As the music dies down they rise to leave the conversation over, though I do hear someone whisper, “They’re leaving here, and were never seen again”, best I follow a while longer and see if I can work out what their plans are. They refuel and I wait, then we wend our way back to the I-15N and continue the journey. As we do I can hear Lee start to sing again, that dame could charm the birds from the trees. I’m beginning to wonder if this maybe ain’t just a road trip but a journey of the soul, a chance to blow away ‘Ghosts’ of the past and old cobwebs leaving the future a little clearer, not just for the band but me as well.
The music on the car stereo is sweet as we struggle our way through LA, I nearly lose them a few times but ‘Can’t Let Go’ just yet. I’m working things through, though I’m not sure I have many answers yet. The driving rhythm helps soothe me and picks up tempo as we gain speed heading inland through the forest parks toward Bakersfield. We’ve been travelling sometime when their two auto-mobiles swing into the lot of a motel with me following at a respectable distance. They go into reception and I watch as the music fades with only the sound of their footsteps and the doors as they take a couple of rooms for the night.
I decide to sleep in the car, it’s a balmy night and my budget doesn’t stretch to luxuries especially with tolls to pay en route. Car facing their rooms I yawn, recline the seat, leaving the windows partially open, tip my hat over my face and in my imagination I can hear Lee sing, soothingly ‘Close Your Eyes’ as I do just that. I’ll sleep tonight and dream on.
I wake with a start and sit upright, my hat falling into the foot-well, shaking my head to shift the fuzziness from my brain and rubbing my tired eyes. The sun is skirting the horizon on it’s ascent to day, red and orange causing a haze in the background, making it look like there are ‘Wildfires’ in the bush and scrub along the bleachers. The parking lot is empty except for my motor, think they’ve given me the slip,did they rumble me? I turn on the car stereo to a piano refrain joined by echoing harmonised voices that float from the speakers out of the window and into the warming air. The drums roll in as I get out of the car and stretch and turn in a circle, a vague attempt at allowing the light breeze to air my slept in clothes, I sure ain’t smelling of roses.
As I look around the music builds, filling out the sound like a grand introduction to the glorious sunrise before me, then echoes away. The sound of waves on the shore return my thoughts to the beginning of this tale and acoustic guitar offers reflection, whilst a male voice taunts me, “You don’t understand…All I need is you”.
I notice something propped on the windshield of the car and pick it up. It’s a CD. The cover is of a car at night driving towards me, making me feel like a rabbit in the blazing headlights. It’s Anathema‘s new one, ‘The Optimist’. Busted! They got me and now they’re gone, ah well I wish them all the best on their journey. No point in going any further I may as well head ‘Back To The Start’, besides I think I have gained enough from what I’ve seen and heard to satisfy my curiosity. The music comes to an end and there is the sound of a knock on an imaginary door, could be one in my brain. The door opens and a male voice asks,“Hi, how are you?” If it’s a question I had to answer right now, this journey has given me time to sort the dumpster in my head and I’m feeling just dandy.
I get back in the car and fire up the engine, she settles to a steady rumble. I take the CD from it’s cover and slip it into the player, there’s the sound of waves and someone on the beach, the soundtrack to this journey, now there’s a surprise. I smile, engage the transmission and head back South, it’s been a ride.
Wait! You were expecting answers? An explanation maybe? Not from this sap, my information on the band remains strictly confidential and what I have discovered about myself along the way highly personal. You want revelations I heavily suggest you treat yourself to a copy of ,‘The Optimist’, and discover for yourself, I’m sure you’ll find this excellent album is worth it.
Brother ape happily portray their scintillating seventh studio album ‘Karma’ as being “the result of their current point of evolution”. It’s an astute comment which casts a revealing light on the ways in which the band have been developing across the four years since the release of the pulsating ‘Force Majeure’ in 2014.
‘Karma’ is, in many ways, a work of and in progress and clearly reflects the exciting and eager music of a working band who have spent the last few years playing festivals, clubs and gigs across their native Sweden. As a prelude to the creation of the new album they released three digital EP’s in 2015 (‘Worlds Waiting….’), early 2016 (‘Mandrill Anthem and Other Stories’) and again in late 2016 (‘First Class’). The best tracks from these releases became the ‘seeds’ which form the bedrock of ‘Karma’ alongside the composition of new songs and material.
The approach certainly pays clear dividends in giving us an album which is beautifully rich in the diversity of musical styles and moods it presents. The energy and vitality which naturally accrues from playing live on stage is effortlessly transferred to the ways the songs are written and performed. As you listen to the album you can both hear and feel the progression and the increasing refinement in the spirit and vibrancy of their playing.
There is an admirable openness to the influences they have heard and how these have become incorporated and creatively infused into the writing process. Much like dipping your toe into a flowing river again and again, each song is a carefully crafted and thoughtfully nuanced snap shot of a time, a place, a mood, a feeling. The album becomes a fascinating collection of musical ‘postcards’ assembled by a band who are intent on probing the boundaries of musical imagination.
This ever inquisitive openness creates a willingness to play, to experiment, to literally explore wherever the mood takes them. The band openly confess they are deeply committed to the idea of “always making music that trigger us at the moment independently of what musical orientation it has.” And in this respect, ‘Karma’ is an arresting showcase of the glorious spirit of innovation which is not afraid to traverse or find inspiration in impressively wide varieties of musical genres and techniques. Combined with the commanding sense of presence and energy acquired from live performing as well as the novel expressiveness they bring to the each song, the album really is a remarkable testament to their current point of evolution.
The album opens and closes with two blistering, signature Brother Ape tracks that are fiery statements of intent. Oblivion (Track 1) is a wonderful fusion of rock, jazz and mesmerising time signatures full of attitude and youthful defiance. The title track Karma(Track 8) begins with the same provocative and challenging power before giving way to tranquil orchestral interludes which in turn lead to a throbbing Amazonian passage of drumming overlayed with a triumphant vocal refrain.
But the mood instantly changes with the sublime If I Could (Track 2), the purity of the crystal clear vocal work, carrying a slight echo, riding an assured symphonic tide of cinematically light orchestral arrangements. The mood is picked up again in Don’t Stand At My Grave And Cry (Track 5), championed again by the most delightful vocal resonance but this time supported by an almost trance-style sampling with almost Beatles-esque echoes.
You Are (Track 7) is another change of pace and musical space; lilting, gentle, delicate guitar work and soothing vocals creating a serene, undulating musical landscape. Hina Saruwa (Track 4) and Let The Right One In (Track 6) switch again to more complex textures, emphatic rhythms, deliciously involved and intertwined elements from drums, keyboards, bass and vocals.
‘Karma’ is a refreshing and at times frenetic blur of passion and drama, a whirling musical dervish of ingenious and inventive styles, influences, moods and moments. Yet throughout it all the band remain faithful to the ‘sound’ they have pioneered since their debut album ‘On The Other Side’, released in 2005, and have been evolving across the course of seven truly impressive and striking albums.
Their website offers the tantalising promise that not all the material they created for ‘Karma’ found its way into the album. I sincerely and most earnestly hope that a new EP or even album may be in the offing in the not too distant future.
Alan Strawbridge – guitars, vocals, Dino Christodoulou – tenor and soprano saxophones, vocals, Duncan Gammon – keyboards, vocals, Holly Mcintosh – bass guitar, vocals and Jasper Williams – drums, vocals.
I decided to take a break from reviewing after a bit of a rough time life wise. I needed the break and wanted to just visit albums for the sheer joy of listening rather than through the critical ear of a reviewer. This meant that I approached this album with a tinge of trepidation. This trepidation was washed away by the end of the first track because it was obvious that the band have passion and a great joyous approach to making music.
I have only been aware of the band since listening to “Protein for Everyone” on the recommendation of a fellow DJ and I admit I was impressed by the feel of the band and their unique take on making music. It has taken them three years to bring out this new album but it has very much been worth the wait. They describe themselves as “a place where Canterbury prog, 60s psych and melodic pop gently collide.” I can understand and hear that as an influence in their writing but I hear Krautrock Grobschnitt, Amon Duul and The Bonzo Dog Do Dah Band (especially Viv Stanshall and Neil Innes solo stuff too) colliding with Knifeworld and Cardiacs. This is all bundled into some very sophisticated writing and recording and yet they are still incredibly accessible.
There are 11 tracks on this album with some seriously insanely eccentric off the wall songs but everything is filled with the common theme of things in the modern world that well and truly annoyed the faecal matter out of most of us. Call it a concept album if you must but it is more of a thematic exercise in reflecting the antithesis of Ian Dury’s“Reasons to be cheerful pt 1”.
Spielen mit Katzen, which opens the album, begins with a very Van Der Graaf Generator sax vs percussion race running all the way to the end of the stave. It even has a funk bass line drawn directly from 70s disco dropped in at an unexpected point. I can only assume that cat videos on social media annoy them as much as they do me. It immediately brightens the moment to this listener.
The album flows directly into Chinese Brainworm (Taeria Solium), it’s not every day you get a song about a parasitic worm that infest pigs but apparently this is the day we do. The use of brass is excellent, it counterpoints the vocals beautifully and adds a unique quality to the sound with a very soft tone and it’s not even vaguely harsh, as the use of sax can often be when ill used.
Rattle on through the album with songs that reflect on cold calling, PPI pests and scamming and you may find yourself singing “We’ve got PPI” as an ear worm randomly as you wander around the house listening to this album.
A real stand out track among an album of great observational songs is A New Atmosphere, by far and away the longest track and musically superior because the themes get better exploration and use. Their Bristol roots show here and it’s obviously a place they feel close to as they wander round the city and give a running commentary of what a bus trip around the city must feel like. The keyboards play a huge part and the vintage sounds that are used bring out the band’s obvious love of the psychedelic music of the 60s. It is a lament to the lost of the city and the pain they feel for the urban decay with large references to world war one.
On the whole this album has something for any lover of music that coaches you out of your comfort zone. It has a wry sense of humour running through it with a cynical view of the world we live in today. It is a bonkers album at times and deadly serious at other times with genuinely intelligent music that never becomes pretentious. Like Birdeatsbaby and other bands of a similar vintage, they represent some new music coming out right now that is breaking traditional definitions of genre and styles and all the more to them I say.
What is ‘Sehr Kosmisch, Ganz Progisch’? Roughly translating to ‘Very Cosmic, Entirely Proggy’, this debut album from Weserbergland is…well, exactly what its title claims. It’s a classically progressive take on Krautrock, masterminded by White Willow’s Ketil Vestrum Einarsen. Comprising four extended instrumental compositions, the album is layered, moody, musical, and intricate. The arrangements alternate between playful and austere as Einarsen and band dance around the motorik beat. ‘Sehr Kosmisch, Ganz Progisch’ is immediately enjoyable but reveals its true depth gradually over many listens, making it somewhat difficult to review, if easy to recommend. Let’s take it track by track.
Tanzen Und Springen: This album opener features tight drumming that moves around quite a bit such that the motorik never approaches monotony. There’s quite a bit of textured flute here w/punctuating fuzz bass and angular lead guitar. The overall impact is not unlike that of an extended modal jazz composition. Five minutes in the track switches gears for a dark interlude buoyed by that dependable motorik and coloured by a bit of synth prancing.
Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde: The album’s longest track, this composition executes a minimalist opening with the illusion of off-beat drumming and down-tuned synth before a more aggressive beat takes over. Over the course of the track’s more than 15 minutes, the drums say rock, the synths suggest ambient, the bass and guitar reference fusion, and the flute leads invoke world & new agey jazz. In the second half of the track, the arrangement seems to agree that, whatever else you might hear stylistically, bombastic prog is the underlying theme. The track’s closing minutes explore experimental territory somewhere between the opening moments of Close to the Edge and the sound of a cassette tape being eaten in the player. In other words, very cosmic, entirely proggy.
Die Kunst Der Fuge: Is this the soundtrack to a tropical sunrise? There’s a relaxed quietness to the beginning of this composition that again evolves gradually over its length. Despite sometimes frenetic guitar work, the mood remains laid-back in a groove featuring lyrical synths, flirty woodwinds, and the rare appearance of (programmed?) vocals. The band show incredible restraint as the track builds and builds, paradoxically sounding both jam-packed and minimalist at the same time, always taking two rounded left turns just when the proceedings seem about to arrive somewhere. It’s a lovely exercise in patience and the self-rewarding activity of virtuosity. Am I speaking in euphemisms for ‘noodly’? No, I don’t think I am.
Tristrant: Utilizing some tight reverbs and programming that would make Fripp-era Peter Gabriel turn his head, this track sounds the most mechanical and spacey of the album’s four movements. It also features more sustained, ecstatic energy, encapsulated in the almost combative dual soloing of flute and clarinet in the last few minutes. In this manner, the album closes on a more traditional jazz styling, albeit one outlasted by that motorik right to the end.
Unless (and even if) your record collection consists entirely of Can, ‘Sehr Kosmisch, Ganz Progisch’ will occupy a unique space on your shelf and in your headphones. A successful tribute to Krautrock, Weserbergland’s debut will also be accessible and attractively mysterious for fans of prog, ambient, electronica, and moody jazz. Don’t pass by this gem because you didn’t know to be looking.
