After listening to ‘Look, No Hands’ from the Swedish progressive rock ensemble Pingvinorkestern (Penguin Orchestra) I’m still at a loss for words. At times quite gloriously mad and at times utterly magnificent progressive rock born from imagination and intuition, this album is a wonderful collection of tracks that enthralls, amazes and amuses all at the same time.
Following on from the debut release ‘Push’, this new album calls on glockenspiel, jews harp, sledgehammer (yep,you read that right), xylophones and horns to create songs derived from pure sadness and happiness, all created for the bands own pleasure.
Seemingly recorded haphazardly as friends called round to drink coffee contribute french horn, bassoon, Krankvartetten (nope, me neither) and vocals (Walk Slowly), ‘Look, No Hands’ is a collection of tracks that could be, on face value, completely disparate. However, listen to the album in one sitting and you will go through the whole gamut of emotions from complete bewilderment through despair to utter joy.
I laughed, I cried and I experienced highs and lows and, just so you can save the experience for yourself, I am not going to do a dissection of each track. All I will say is that after initially thinking this collection of superb musicians were madder than any box of frogs or badgers you could ever find, I really think that the joke could be on us.
One of the most surprising, original and fulfilling releases I’ve heard in quite a while. Do yourselves a big favour, buy it, find yourself a dark room, put on your headphones, have a large glass of your favourite tipple and just enjoy…
Rebecca Loebe and Findlay Napier met on an EFDSS songwriting retreat in Aldeburgh, Suffolk. “Sometimes when you get thrown into a co-write sessions things just click.” Says Napier, “This was one of those times.” Over the last 18 months they have written together down the line from Loebe’s base in Austin, Texas and in Findlay’s Glasgow flat when Rebecca was touring the UK.
The ‘Filthy Jokes E.P.’ is based around a song the two wrote for Christmas 2017 – Joy To The World, I Guess – which combines the lilting Americana influenced tones of Loebe’s polished delivery along with the more traditional folk influences of Glasgow native Napier.
For any fan of these two songwriting behemoths, this E.P. is a must, Rebecca Loebe is known as a non-stop touring machine, averaging 200 performances per year for the last decade. Along the way, honing her voice to become a musical instrument in itself.
Scottish singer-songwriter Findlay Napier categorically commands musical VIP status and his gritty tales of Scottish life, based in and around Glasgow, have become legendary among the Folk circuit.
Joy To The World, I Guess and Bad Medicine see the duo add their own unique idiosyncrasies to two beautifully crafted songs, their songwriting prowess there for all to see and hear. There’s a languid and laconic ease to the music and the vocals match that feel perfectly. It’s a perfect amalgam of American polish along with superbly delivered Scottish grit.
Kilimanjaro sees Loebe take centre stage with a haunting, ethereal piece of music that really leaves a mark on your soul, Napier’s ghostly backing vocal and the simple guitar providing the perfect backing. Option to Buy sees Napier at his witty best with sharp lyrics and brilliant music being the core of his traditional folk style. This time Loebe adds the classy country influenced backing vocals to give just a little bit extra.
There’s a proper country music, bluegrass edge to title track Filthy Jokes, Loebe adding the required twang to her delicious vocal delivery which, along with that picking banjo in the background, leaves you feeling as if you’re in the deep south. The E.P. closes out with an excellent reprise of the opening track.
This collaboration is a glimpse into the combined songwriting minds of two of folk and country/Americana music’s most accomplished artists. A delightful appetiser to what they could achieve if they wrote long-term together. It’s a wonderful twenty minutes of sublime vocals and superb musicianship and one that should be in any music fans collection and, as an introduction to Napier and Loebe, is just about perfect.
Before Yes, there was Mabel Greer’s Toyshop, a band that originally existed between 1966-68 until original member Clive Bayley left and they became the first Yes line up.
MGT Re-formed back in 2014 with original members Clive Bayley, drummer Robert Hagger,Hugo Barre on bass and Max Hunt on keyboards. The album ‘New Way of Life’ was released in 2015 and ‘The Secret’ is the follow-up recorded and released towards the end of last year.
Mixing Bayley’s vocals and the bands power, they have headed down a route that both Yes and The Nice attempted with varying degrees of success, by blending new material with classically inspired pieces, (Turning to the Light – inspired by Tchaikovsky, Angel Sent – inspired by Beethoven, Swan – inspired by Tchaikovsky and the Closing the Secret inspired by Holst). Traditionally a lot of original prog was inspired by rock musicians wanting to make classical sounds, and this return to the bands roots is a nice nod to the journey the genre went on.
Bayley has a wonderfully deep English voice and a line in well observed melancholy and beauty, that makes this more than just a cash in on the Yes name.
There are some wonderful long songs that have room to breath and grown, like the opening Big Brother, Little Brother about the plight of the indigenous native Americans moved on by the white settlers, while two spiritual pieces (Love’s Fire and Image of Existence) use the words of the legendary Sufi academic and writer, the Iranian born Dr Javid Nubaksh, an example of Bayley’s widely travelled outlook, and his spiritual ideas.
In fact, this whole album runs a wide range of styles and sounds, and the band are absolutely on fire. Hunt’s keyboards add some wonderful bluesy style to More and More with its disdain for the consumerist lifestyle, while the guitar work reinterpreting Ode to Joy on Angel Sent is an absolute pleasure to listen.
Having come only a few years after the bands debut (only a mere 49 years after they were formed!) this shows that Bayley has started mining a rich creative and musical seam and now the band has coalesced to 4 like-minded musicians looking to the future. This album is one that has a few nods to the past and where the band came from, but also shows where Bayley’s journey differed from that of his earlier band mates, and looks far more to the future than to the past.
The biggest nod to the past however is the presence of the late Peter Banks on the final track The Secret, where his wonderfully unique guitar sound cuts through the track and sends shivers down the spine. As one, much like Bayley, (and despite having appeared and been fundamental in the early Yes sound on the first two albums), Banks long seems the forgotten man of Yes.
Finally, the current incarnation plays Time and a Word in tribute to him (with a big picture on the stage) and this guitar solo only continues to enhance his reputation.
This album is never going to be the forefront of a new genre or hit the top spot in the charts, I have no doubt that that’s not what its creators intended. Instead with its philosophy, it’s classic/rock crossover sound, it’s melancholy and languid guitar work and vocals, it is an English prog rock classic, refining and redefining what progressive music is and taking several steps forward whilst reflecting, representing and commemorating where they came from.
All in all, a very classy, mature and intelligent album that is a welcome addition to the band’s catalogue and see’s them hitting their stride with this new line up.
Somewhere at the arse end of Britpop, where record labels and the bigger bands had either lost the plot or were rapidly evolving to avoid the Britpop tag, there were some truly great albums released in that fag end; ‘Urban Hymns’ by The Verve or ‘Be Here Now’ by Oasis captured the decline of the Britpop years beautifully, while Radiohead’s‘Ok, Computer’ set the controls for the heart of the sun. Meanwhile four-piece Mansun, who were lumped, unfairly to my ears, into the whole Britpop scene (well, they were British, and they made music!) took the top of the charts with ‘Attack of the Grey Lantern’.
Despite the strength of the follow up ‘Six’, as well as ‘Little Kixx’, the band folded amidst much acrimony, leaving behind a collection of albums that, if you were there you’d get, if you weren’t then you would be amazed that you hadn’t heard them before.
Now signed to Kscope for his debut album and having achieved critical acclaim for his come-back and his tour supporting Steven Wilson, original Mansun frontman Paul Draper recently toured the UK selling out venues performing ‘Attack…’ in it’s entirety for the first time.
With the Mansun back catalogue now on Kscope, they have brought out a luxurious 21st anniversary edition. This pulls together demo’s, live tracks, unreleased material and, the holiest of holies, a shiny new 5.1 mix of the album.
Back in 2010 when the rights were held by EMI, they produced a triple disc edition of the album and while, inevitably, there is some cross over, the demo’s and 5.1 mix make this new package as attractive to new fans and older ones who want to relive their youth.
Astonishingly there are people buying music today who weren’t even born when this album appeared, and doesn’t that make me feel old?
Starting out as a concept about a superhero, The Grey Lantern, the band admitted there weren’t quite enough songs to complete the concept, but it doesn’t matter when the material on here is of such quality and style.
Anyone unfamiliar with the original album won’t know how it starts with the best Bond theme there never was, the dramatic string laden and powerful The Chad Who Loved Me, before leading into the sardonically titled Mansun’s Only Love Song (this quirky sense of humour and self-deprecation was to be a trade mark of the band) and, while they were put into the Britpop box, there was always more going on musically, as the brilliantly Beatles inspired, and pure festival singalong, Taxlo$$ proved. There were the brilliant single releases like the epic Wide Open Space and Stripper Vicar, the former being an absolute musical epic, and the latter being a very English piece of musical high-farce which could only have been made by an English band.
With a closing quartet of songs, She Makes my Nose Bleed, Naked Twister, Egg Shaped Fred and Dark Mavis, there is no bad track on this album. It is one of those organically produced records from the golden age of CDs where the sequence is everything and the album must be listened to in its entirety. This is no collection of songs to stream or put on as background, this is an album as art and, as such, is full of class, heart and soul.
Which is why it is perfect for the 5.1 treatment. There was always plenty going on musically with Mansun and the 5.1 mix enhances and expands this, giving the tracks real wide open space to breath. This makes it a completely immersive experience, taking it all back to listening to albums as they were meant to be listened to, you, a room and the sounds taking them over.
The fact that Mansun were so obviously head and shoulders above most of the Britpop crowd means they were more on a par with Pulp than Oasis, in that they have made timeless, classy intelligent rock music, music that wasn’t afraid to be a bit different from the norm. Listening back now it’s hard to imagine that if Mansun appeared from nowhere and released this today that it would get to number one. While it is easier to access music today, I have a suspicion that, looking at the demographic of the record buying youth 21 years ago, they were probably more accepting to trying something slightly different than the youth of today. So different, in fact, that they let, and actively encouraged Radiohead and Mansun to get away with blatant prog right under their noses in the depths of Britpop, the cheeky little scamps!
After seeing Paul Draper perform ‘Attack of the Grey Lantern’ live (a gig I’d only been waiting to see for 21 years) my interest in all things Mansun has been rekindled and, as Kscope have the full back catalogue, it appears that the follow up to ‘Attack of the Grey Lantern’, the even more astonishing and out there ‘Six’, is being readied for 5.1.
If ‘Attack of the Grey Lantern’ was the gateway drug, ‘Six’ is where we hit the hard stuff. With Paul Draper promising to perform it in it’s entirety live next year, well, I am already eagerly awaiting the next instalment in the Mansun story and, after immersing yourself in this well made, and well remastered set (the new mixes sound sublime and are really sympathetic to the original album) you will be too.
(As a note for those of you who aren’t into 5.1, there is a standard edition available as well, shiny and remastered for your pleasure.)
When I went up to sixth form at school in the late 80’s one of the perks was the common room in which we were allowed to play music on the sixth form tape player; there was a simple rule – you could bring a tape in, put it in the queue and play two songs before it was changed for the next tape in line. This was where my sense of humour kicked in as my tape, which was kept in the queue on a permanent basis, always illicited a groan from the assembled friends; track one was Marillion’sGrendel, track 2 was Iron Maiden’sRime of the Ancient Mariner and so on and so forth, no track was less than 10 minutes long meaning I could take up whole break periods and longer with my choice of what was, to the rest of the guys, seriously uncool music. But here’s the thing, with the benefit of hindsight and the confidence (arrogance?) of experience meaning that I know I have exemplary taste, I was cool in 1988, mainly because I didn’t try to be cool, unlike the other kids with their hip hop albums and baggy jeans trying desperately to be anything but the white middle class kids that they were.
It is my suspicion that if Andy Tillison, who has just released a solo project album as Kalman Filter, were to have been in my sixth form he’d have been sat in my corner giggling at the sneering looks of the ‘cool’ kids while they had to listen to 13 minutes of Shine On You Crazy Diamond before they could play their Soul II Soul 12 inch remix. The album, ‘Exo-Oceans’, is just three tracks long over a total album length of 75 minutes (more of which later), and travels through a variety of musical styles from funk and disco to classical via progressive rock and many points in between. Often, this approach bears little fruit as either too many people get involved or one musician doesn’t have someone acting as a brake on their creativity. Tillison, though, neatly avoids this, with the genres he visits fitting together; like the great oceans Tillison references as an influence there is both a ‘maelstrom’ like crashing together along with a smoothing out into great expanses either side. That music is cool, seriously cool, beautifully cool, and cool without even trying. It is great music performed by a very talented musician, ably assisted on the first track by guitar supremo Matt Stevens, who doesn’t have to try hard to create something really good to listen to, though it is also obvious a lot of thought, creativity and talent has gone into these three super tracks.
But, and I wish it was a small but, but no, it’s a big but. I have a pet hate, I hate tracks that have false endings. I really do not see the point. And ‘Exo-Oceans’ has a massive false ending to the third track, Jornakh, 10 or so minutes worth of silence. As a reviewer I had to listen all the way through it, hoping that the wait would be worth the time spent listening to nothing. Unfortunately, and this is something I think I can say about every album with a false ending I’ve ever listened to, for me it wasn’t worth that investment. I didn’t get the point that was being made, I just felt it didn’t add any value. This is a shame as otherwise the album avoided that brilliantly in the actual music. I suppose the question is: did this spoil the album for me? to which the answer is no, as for me, the music is worth listen after listen. I’ll just skip back to track one when the music stops on track 3. Though, if this was 1988 and Andy and I were in my sixth form common room it would be great fun stopping some ‘cool’ kid from putting his tape on with the words, ‘oi, it might be silence mate, but there’s still six minutes to go till you can change it!’
“Finally George is the epitome of flawlessly arranged and recorded prog-rock pop music – endlessly deep tracks that ache with the pain of separation. With addictive walls of sound that repeatedly build up to monumental proportions.
Sophisticated melodies, held together by forceful arrangements, are melded with harmonious vocals, heavy-metal guitar riffs, opulent keyboards, cinematic strings and epic choruses.”
So says the PR blurb for this brainchild of George Hahn, a well-known sound artist in Hamburg’s studio scene. Here, he performs the roles of producer, session musician and commissioned composer.
I’ll tell you something, the PR blurb isn’t wrong in any way, shape or form, these ten tracks are superbly constructed and delivered to give an album of cultured musical gems.
Take the time to sit down and listen to each track and you will hear subtle influences of well known acts, I hear a little of RPWL here, a smidgeon of cosmograf (check out the superb Time Stands Still) and a touch of Marillion and IQ there all combining to give an uber-impressive listen, like the musical equivalent of the most comfortable duck down quilt you have ever experienced.
For the percussion parts, George found someone whose name carries serious weight in the music business: Todd Sucherman, the drummer of legendary US rock band Styx, who works as an online session drummer in his spare time. He adds considerable weight to these intensive tracks and their many layers of sophistication.
The album also features Erlend Krauser (ex member of Lake), John Engehausen and Ralf Bittermann who deliver the impressively cultured guitar sound. The gnarled sounds of the Hammond organ come courtesy of Detlef Bösche, whereas George secured the services of pianist Matthias Pogoda for the wonderfully evocative title track Life Is A Killer.
Some of the guitar parts are reminiscent of Gilmour at his height and they do give a Pink Floyd ambience to a few of the songs, not that there’s anything wrong with that. There is a genuine feel to every note and every word sung. No, there’s nothing groundbreaking here but, to re-use the word, there is a flawless quality to this album. There’s a place for everything and everything has a place.
Yes pop pickers, it’s that time of the month again. Those cheeky chappies Sleeperman carry on releasing a new track every month and June sees The Grass Under My Feet arrive at Progradar Towers in it’s retro 45RPM single cover.
In a departure from the usual guitar sound from Neil Scott, this song features a really funky pulse guitar style groove that gives the track a more upbeat rhythm and plenty of impetus. As I’m listening to it for the third time, the sun is shining and it’s 22 degrees outside and the music just has that feel-good summertime feel to it.
The lyrics and John’s vocals are as pin sharp as ever and the cultured rhythm section of Sharp and Skinner drive everything along at a fair lick as that vibrato heavy guitar riff gets even more infectious.
“I want to breathe in some clean air and march along to my heart’s beat, give myself some surprises and feel the grass under my feet.”
The honest, pithy lyrics are as refreshing as ever and the band have given us a real breath of North-Eastern fresh air, roll on July!
As befits the 45RPM single idea we have another excellent ‘B’ side to back up the single. The guys return to whimsical humour and clever views of everyday life with The Grass is Always Greener,
“You were born in the drizzle of a Wednesday in the North, you know a donkey is a donkey and you’ll never change its course…”
To me, Sleeperman seem to really resonate with my idea of what music should be all about and long may it continue!
Released 4th June 2018
The Grass Under My Feet is available on all good digital platforms and the CD is available direct from the band, contact via their Facebook page here:
Listening to music, for me, is immersive. I wish to be enveloped in melody, washed over by lyrical whimsy and transported through waves of sonic delights to transcendental states of heightened perceptions. I want to fall into music, to feel emotions and to become at one with the albums I listen to. Much of this requirement I blame on Pink Floyd’s 1973 masterpiece, ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, as that is an album set a bar, that for many, is a totally unrealistic target with only a few bands reaching somewhere close; Fish era Marillion, moments from Dire Straits, recent albums from John Grant and Public Service Broadcasting standing out.
Putting on my headphones and listening to the six tracks on the new album from Starfish64, ‘The Future In Reverse’, I was reminded greatly of these highlight moments of musical enjoyment for me as the band, which comprises Dieter Hoffman, Henrik Kropp, Martin Pownall and Dominik Suhl (ably assisted by Kass Moody, Julie Pownall, Jan Thiede and Simon Triebal), have created a delicious flight of fantasy that echoes (pun intended) Floyd in its sweeping and swooping harmonies between guitars, keyboards and voices. Minimal in its concept and use of equipment, it nevertheless has shown craftsmen at the top of their game giving full vent to their talents.
For me, the great joy of this album is the interplay and harmony between guitar and keyboards, reminiscent of Messrs Gilmour and Wright but also, and perhaps more so Steve Rotherey and Mark Kelly of Marillion. I recently reviewed, for my own website:
Marillion’s last album where one slight criticism I gave was that I felt that many of the tracks felt like Steve and Mark were either held back or didn’t give themselves total full reign to really expand and develop their interplay.
‘The Future In Reverse’ does this, in spades and with knobs on; beautifully, elegantly and expertly. The harmonies developed are sumptuous, they drive with focus and they help create what is a most immersive and enjoyable listen.
Back in the day when I was more heavily involved in helping at gigs and on merch desks for the CRS than I am now (and we’re talking not quite 20 years ago) I had the pleasure of seeing some amazing bands at the HLC in Rotherham, during what some regard as the golden era of the old CRS. I watched bands like Mostly Autumn, Karnataka, Arena, Threshold, among many others (all of whom are now household names across this mighty span of genre that we cover here at Progradar) make their first tentative steps into the spotlight, some more successfully than others. Some became instant favourites but some took time to bed in.
Now, other than the mighty Jump, there was only one band who never played the same set twice and brought bags of charm and charisma to the stage, and who presided over some of my favourite CRS gigs over the years that I was attending either as staff or simply Johnny Punter.
That band of course is Strangefish, those Mancunian scamps who used to pop over the border on a regular basis, not just as ‘the turn’ but also as members of the audience. These guys didn’t just play prog, they were immersed in the scene, loving the music they were playing and the bands who weren’t them.
After releasing one EP and two albums, the last of which, ‘Fortune Telling’, was their masterpiece, a full blown and fantastic concept album, they took an extended holiday. Drifting off a scene that they had illuminated and blown away with their musical presence, wallflowers they weren’t, and yet once they’d reeled us in, they were gone. Always leave ‘em wanting more it seemed.
Now, only a mere 12 years after their last album, they return, with an enhanced line up, and a brand-new slice of sound, ‘The Spotlight Effect’.
The core band, charismatic vocalist Steve Taylor, Paul O’Neill on keys, Bob on guitars and Dave Whittaker on drums, welcome new members Carl Howard on bass and Jo Whittaker on vocals, (and having seen this line-up at their debut gig a few years ago, I can confirm they are a mighty powerful musical combination) this is Strangefish reborn.
The break seems to have done them the world of good and, on the surprising opener, the acoustic Death of Common Sense, the well observed and intelligent lyrics are back yet the sonic palette is expanded. It might seem brave opening an album with an atypical song and a new sound for them, but this is the confidence of a band who know they’ve still got it and have a renewed sense of purpose.
Progress in Reverse is a scathing look at where we are now over an amazing musical piece, really jumping out on you after the opener. This is more familiar territory but with that subtly harder edge and deeper sound, this is a real boot you up the bum moment.
As the title of the album (and its subtitle – the phenomenon in which people tend to believe they are being noticed more than they actually are) suggests, it’s overriding themes are over exposure and the fact that anyone can be a celebrity by being online.
Topics which the wonderful, and heavier edged, Iconacon (what a fantastic title) tackles with some skill and aplomb, Bob rocking out with the best of them and the band musically on top form, trading licks and riffs and vocals.
There’s also loss felt on this album, the lovely Summer Slips Away is a hauntingly beautiful poignant ballad where the understated guitar work of Bob and Paul’s gentle keyboards allow Steve and Jo’s wonderful duet to shine. The two voices work perfectly, it’s amazing the impact a second vocalist has on the band’s sound.
Strangefish have always been fond of their epics and well known for their effervescent stage presence and fun-loving attitude. There’s been serious undercurrents from tracks like Ignorance of Bliss of ‘Fortune Telling’ and, of course, they are no strangers to epic work outs that give them room to breathe and build and here is no exception.
The centrepiece of the album is the three-parter Delicate, consisting of 1: Now is not the time, 2: Half the Battle and3: The Light at the other side. This is a full-blown epic, looking at the struggle of life, the human condition and reaching out for help. There is so much going on here that I could spend the whole review analysing it however, the nature of the subject matter and the nuances and, indeed, resonance it will have with you is dependant on your perspectives and experiences, so I will leave it for you to decipher emotionally. I will say that Steve has never sounded better on vocals, particularly about 12 minutes in on the Half the battle section, before the motive spoken word part and then Bob’s guitar and Paul’s keyboard kicks in, it is heart wrenching.
The part where Jo’s vocals kick in after Paul’s sublime subdued keyboards and leads us into the Light at the other side, followed by Steve returning with a haunting counter melody, is the sound of 2018 Strangefish. Two powerful vocalists pushing each other on and giving the song such emotional depth and resonance.
Title track TheSpotlight Effect features some great heavy guitar and bass work, the addition of Carl has ever so subtly brought the heavier and darker sound of the bands music out, with Bob and Dave sounding like they are enjoying themselves, riffing away whilst Paul’s keyboard work sparkles.
The instrumental Reverse Switch does that sneaky prog trick of revisiting Progress in Reverse, leading into the album closer, the rousing and stirring Up toYou. This has the closest sound to ‘old’ Strangefish as anything on here, with it’s big chorus and optimistic message, it finishes this cracking album with a positive and funky vibe.
Bands reforming after a break with new members can either give us a ‘90125’ or a ‘Calling All Stations’. Fortunately, this album is the follow up that ‘Fortune Telling’ deserved and is Strangefish’s strongest album to date. After having had that break, I think we can now put Strangefish back where they belong.
Next time when you look in the dictionary under the phrase ‘Comeback’ you will see a picture of this album.
Released 18th June 2018
Contact the band at sales@strangefish.co.uk to get a copy of the CD
When I hear of bands with project in the name, I get a kind of pre-conception of what I’m going to be listening too. When the main artists name precedes the project I’m pretty certain that I’m going to be hearing a vanity project, some sort of self-congratulatory audio jerk off; a look at me, ain’t I clever piece of work. Not that there is anything wrong with that as often the artist is right, they are that good. They are entitled to show off and give it large. Like Muhammed Ali in his pomp, some projects own the ring they are in and they create an enigmatic aura of musical invincibility. They say, and prove, with some justification, this is great stuff, you WILL enjoy it.
Often the reason this arrogance is successful is because it is done with an element of tongue in cheekiness, a knowing sense of not taking things too seriously. And this is something achieved by the Devin Townsend Project with glorious aplomb. The live album that dropped into my inbox last week is a majestic piece of over the top, bombastic, showing off, rifftastic and oblivion inducing noisiness; a symphony of a tight and talented band being directed by the Project leader to create amazing sounds that help provide contrasting visions of the discordant ingredients that make up this performance on record.
As a reference point I couldn’t help but think back to the early 1980’s and one of the original, and often underrated, exponents and developers of science within electronic music, Thomas Dolby. In 1982 he released his ‘Golden Age of Wireless’ album which was chock full of ideas that invoked scientific exploration and discovery. Which is something that DTP seem to have taken on and updated for a 21st century guitar driven band. Quite honestly, like Dolby, there are great parts of this album that are just completely bonkers, mad as a box of frogs, completely and utterly deliciously loony tunes. With my headphones on, listening to this album, I imagined a band with Christopher Lloyd playing guitar, Dr.Frank ‘n’ Furter on bass and Dr.Frankestein on drums. It is seemingly a live performance directed by Tim Burton in one of his more weird moments. It is a triumph of surrealist bombasticness, an opera of madness, a cacophony of crazy.
The thing with this album and project is that there is a lot thrown at it. But it works. From the choir that moves between sounding like a southern gospel group through to Russian sailors, often in the same song, to the crashing meld of guitars and drums, this live performance treads the thin line between being too over the top, too pretentious, too silly whilst still having glorious moments of sheer, unadulterated and joyful, scenery chewing genius. Referencing a stand out kitsch cult cinematic moment of the early 80’s, if a director somewhere wished to remake Flash Gordon, then the Devin Townsend Project would have to be top of the list for the soundtrack. This live performance is fabulous, brilliant, funny and glorious.
