Honorable Mentions

In this post we include additional albums that might have been included with longer write-ups, but which are hereby acknowledged as exceptional albums that played a significant role in our shared discoveries.

Talk Talk - The Colour of Spring (1986)

The British synth band comes of age with their stunning third album, following the wonderful It's My Life (1983). Vocalist Mark Hollis shines as composer and singer, and the band provides what they describe as a deeper "organic" backdrop. "Happiness Is Easy," "I Don't Believe in You," and "Living in Another World" are all great pop/prog tunes, but there are no fillers on the album. Beautifully produced and balanced. 

Spirit - Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus (1970)

The capper to the first incarnation of this classic American prog band. Featuring the wonderful "Nature's Way," a harbinger of the climate change crisis, as well as 11 other brief "dreams." The album mirrors the early 12" album format of 12 songs, each lasting less than 4 minutes (except for "When I Touch You" at 5:35). The dreams flow as a suite, to be heard in one sitting.

Quicksilver Messenger Service - Happy Trails (1969)

California band during the height of the psychedelic period. Loose, extended forms: The 25+ minute "Who Do You Love" suite consumes all of side 1; Side 2 has "Mona," "Maiden of the Cancer Moon," and "Calvary." These are the core parts of QMS's legacy, played without compromise. A signature band of the times. 

Graham Parker - The Mona Lisa's Sister (1988)

After Parker's successful debut with Howlin' Wind in 1976, he made several strong albums with The Rumour, featuring guitarist Brinsley Schwarz. Mona Lisa discards much of the new wave/pub rock posture to create a more arranged and carefully self-produced masterpiece. The 10 new Parker songs explore both dangerous and tender topics and are capped by a cover of Sam Cooke's "Cupid." Splendid!

Steve Hillage - Fish Rising (1975)

Former member of Gong, Steve Hillage launched a successful run of solo albums with Fish Rising. This solid Canterbury scene band features long suites exploring aquatic imagery and Hillage's spirituality with lyrics by Miquette Giraudy. Dave Stewart handles the keyboards and some arrangements. Pure prog at its best.

Hatfield and the North - The Rotters Club (1975)

Tasty follow up to Hatfield's self-titled debut. This would be the only other album the group made excepting live gigs that were released years later. Full of Canterbury superstars - Richard Sinclair, Dave Stewart, Pip Pyle, Amanda Parsons, among others. The music just burbles along creatively and humourously.  

The Electric Flag - A Long Time Comin' (1968)

Mike Bloomfield is featured along with Barry Miles in an awesome blues/rock album that signified early American prog. Anti-war sentiment is expressed directly, as then President LBJ's voice is mocked on the opening of "Killing Floor," and "Another Country" employs loud horn arrangements and a great guitar solo to climax a raucous but always skillfully played epic.

The Doors - The Soft Parade (1969)

Jim Morrison offers some of his best vocals on the singles, but the album is distinguished by the lengthy title tune during which Morrison screams "YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER." The multi-part suite soars through a variety of songs, much like the Beatles did on Abbey Road. Doors fans value The Soft Parade for its alternative artsy approach versus the more popular hit-oriented albums.

Elvis Costello - King of America (1986)

American culture is a soft target for Elvis Costello's sardonic wit. Here's he's backed by legendary jazz bassist Ray Brown and aided in production by another legend, T-Bone Burnett. Accordingly, the sound is free from the punkish haze of earlier albums. "Brilliant Mistake" and "American Without Tears" are among his best compositions, and his singing voice is at its mature best. A jewel in his vast discography.

Cream - Disraeli Gears (1967)

Psychedelia's proof of mass appeal. Clapton, Bruce and Baker recorded the album in the US, where it reached #4 in 1968. "Sunshine of Your Love" is the most memorable hit, surprisingly for a song played over a bass riff that emphasizes beats 1 and 3, not the customary 2 and 4. "SWLABR" and "Tales of Brave Ulysses" are winners. Ginger Baker's "Mother's Lament" is a zany bit of fancy involving a skinny baby's fatal bath. Anything goes from this point forward. 

The Cars - Candy-O (1979)

Ric Ocasek's masterpiece. Every tune is hit worthy, and the ensemble never misses a note. The Alberto Vargas cover rivals Roxy Music's use of live glamour models on album covers, signifying a rise in respectability for glam rock. But Candy-O sports much more than its superficial trappings. The segue from "Shoo-Be-Do" to the title track at the end of side 1 is ultra cool, and "The Dangerous Type" closes the album on what just might be the greatest song The Cars ever made. 

Camel - The Snow Goose (1975)

Camel's second attempt at writing music inspired by literature, The Snow Goose is perhaps the band's most familiar album. Despite questions about its status as rock music (Rolling Stone Record Guide panned it), Snow Goose proves the value of literary material in prog. Andrew Latimer shines on guitar and flute. A live version of the album on A Live Record (1978) was backed by The London Symphony Orchestra. While the band was always on the brink of dissolution, it remained resiliently creative throughout its long history. 

The James Gang - Yer' Album (1969)

A case could be made for The James Gang being the first college rock band. Kent, Ohio (yes, the site of the Kent State killings in 1970), adopted the nearby Cleveland-based band. (The dam in the cover photos is on Kent's section of the Cuyahoga River.) Yer' Album was the band's debut and included a prog-like smorgasbord of funky rock, balladry, Stephen Stills' "Bluebird," and the epic 12-minute version of Jerry Ragovoy's "Stop." Joe Walsh's solo on "Stop" forever established his reputation as one of rock's guitar superstars. 

Roy Buchanan - You're Not Alone (1978)

Roy Buchanan stood beside rock's early guitar greats. Largely a blues player, his first albums were widely hailed as influential, like a kind of white Buddy Guy. The producer of You're Not Alone was Ramon Silva, who steered Buchanan in new directions resulting in a quintessential prog-blues triumph. The opening 2-minute "Miles from Earth" sets the mood and is the perfect segue for the crushing instrumental version of Joe Walsh's "Turn to Stone." "Fly Night Bird" and the finale title track are other journeys into outer space. Great stuff!

Pink Floyd - Atom Heart Mother (1970)

Their 5th full album, Atom Heart Mother included yet another full-side monumental suite, this time with the aid of a brass section and choir. On side 2, Waters, Wright and Gilmour each get solo showcases, and it all ends with a lengthy instrumental/sound effects collage. Dismissed by the band afterwards, it shows a direction they would not pursue further, but the title suite is a great example of rock/orchestra that was tried by several progressive acts at the time.

Steve Hillage - L (1976)

A second honorable mention for Hillage. His follow up to Fish Rising, L ventures into covers of Donovan's "Hurdy Gurdy Man" and the Beatles' "It's All Too Much," versions which rival the originals. Along with the glissando following "Hurdy Gurdy Man," "Lunar Musick Suite" displays the guitarist's spacey conceptions and extended techniques. Spiritual prog of the highest order. 

Bill Bruford - Feels Good to Me (1977)

Following the demise of the mid-70s lineup of King Crimson, drummer Bill Bruford led an ambitious prog band of his own, with help from virtuosos like keyboardist Dave Stewart, guitarist Allan Holdsworth , bassist Jeff Berlin, and guest vocalist Annette Peacock. The result is an extension of Canterbury prog in the late 1970s. Bruford showcases his composing talents on Feels Good to Me.

Sigur Rós - ÁTTA (2023)

Dan:

After struggling through Sigur Rós's Kveikur album (2013), I concluded that the band was moving past the songcraft that was so powerful on Ágætis Byrjun, Valtari and others. They then appeared to have disbanded. The last ten years of world history have been eventful ones, to say the least, so I did not know that I missed them until ÁTTA arrived unexpectedly earlier this year. I quickly downloaded the hi rez version hoping that some of their earlier magic had been restored.

ÁTTA is the album I hoped for. It builds upon the same formula of long drone-like passages with layers of sound, the mysterious vocals supplied by Jónsi, and great sound engineering. Jónsi (guitar and voice), Kjartan Sveinsson (keyboards) and Georg Hólm (bass) comprise the core trio, but each song is enhanced by a range of instrumental voices. We hear guest artists playing violin, cello, trombone, trumpet, vibes, hurdy gurdy, and additional percussion. This beautifully opens up the sound stage making for a spacious aural experience.

ÁTTA is a strikingly gentle album, perhaps due to the greater worldliness of the band members as well as their core fan base. It will compensate for the stresses of life in the dangerous 2020s while sacrificing nothing in terms of ideas and musicianship. I could not have imagined a better 10-year reunion for Sigur Rós. 

Steve:

It had admittedly been years since I last heard a new Sigur Rós album that truly impressed me, so my expectations were not particularly high for this new effort. After about 3 listens, though, ÁTTA is honestly one of my favorite albums they've done. I liken it to 2012's Valtari in that it hovers quietly in near-ambient territory for much of its running time, drawing its beauty from understated vocals and instrumentation, and augmented with colorful albeit subtle string orchestration.

Although Sigur Rós have done some upbeat, happy music in the past (Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is perhaps the best example), most of their music resides in the range bordered by "contented, resigned sigh" on one end and "questioning soul crying to the heavens" on the other. Tellingly, my favorite Sigur Rós album, ( ) (Untitled) hits both of those extremes. The mood on ÁTTA is calm yet not necessarily content; melancholic yet hopeful; and sad while hopefully seeing beyond the sadness. It's a pleasurable listen, and its richness of sound and modest, unpretentious artistry make this return all I could have hoped for from this band in 2023.

Manna/Mirage - Man out of Time (2021)

Steve:

Manna/Mirage is one of several musical projects involving Dave Newhouse, who is best known for his role as keyboardist, woodwind player, and composer for the superb US progressive jazz/rock band The Muffins. Turns out he is also a naturally friendly guy, and I, a socially awkward guy, had no trouble infiltrating my way into his social network (our mutual love of cats probably helped). Through this connection, I discovered several projects involving old and new musical associations that he has released on his New House Records label. The project closest musically to the Muffins is Manna/Mirage, named after the Muffins' debut album (reviewed elsewhere on this blog). Although other Muffins members are not explicitly involved, the style of the music is similarly freewheeling.

Man Out of Time opens with "What's the Big Idea", an energetic blast of jazz rock with driving horn riffs overdubbed by Newhouse and sublime guitar work from Mark Stanley. The following "World Song" is a collaboration with French vocalist Carla Diratz with whom Newhouse also records in a trio named Diratz. "World Song" recalls the pensive organ drones of Robert Wyatt's solo work, with Diratz's deep, nuanced alto voicings. "In for a Penny" sounds the most like a Muffins track and is given extra oomph by Rich O'Meara's great vibes and marimba work. (O'Meara's solo album Red Chard, which Newhouse guests on, is highly recommended, as is bassist Dereck Higgins solo effort Future Still). "Red Ball Express" ends the first half with a wild number consisting of keyboards, saxes, drums and yelling, all overdubbed by Newhouse.

"4 Steps Back" is the most expansive number, with an augmented lineup including violin and cello in addition to O'Meara's mallets. At over ten minutes, it gives plenty of room for the ensemble to shine. "Fred's Dream" features none other than Fred Frith on guitar, showing once again why he has been such a great and prolific collaborator over the years in a multitude of settings. "Silver Age" resembles a Brian Eno composition, with its circular repetitive figures on electric piano and bass clarinet, drenched in atmospheric effects and subtle overdubbed countermelodies (all by Newhouse). O'Meara returns for the final piece, a peaceful jazz ballad for electric piano and marimba/vibes - making for a great conclusion to the album.  

I've noticed that every time I play Man out of Time, which is relatively short at 36 minutes, I usually play it a second time. It's a natural sounding work, performed by highly experienced players for the sheer fun of it. The sense of joy inherent in these pieces is contagious. 

You can learn more about Dave's world at davenewhouse.bandcamp.com.  

Dan:

It's hard to put my finger on reasons why I like Man Out of Time so much. As Steve says, it's a joyful album, full of variety and exceptional musicianship. It's ambitious but not pretentious. It's a successful blending of prog and jazz material - all original, of course. Many rockers I've known don't seem to know how to deal with the demands of improvisation, but Newhouse, his colleagues and guests are comfortable with both prog and jazz.

The weirdest track on the album is "World Song," sung by Carla Diratz. Her voice requires a bit of adjustment since it's pitched lower and almost sounds like a frail tenor. But the third time through, it's mesmerizing. (Weird is not a pejorative term in this context; I expect that Newhouse was trying for weird with this featured vocal.) 

To call out a couple of musical highlights: "These Days," the closing number with electric piano, vibes and marimba hits me just right; and Fred Frith's guitar feature, aptly titled "Fred's Dream," shows the guitarist at his lyrical best.

Overall, a winner and a good omen for prog as it advances toward the second quarter of the 21st century. 

Zopp - Zopp (2020)

Steve:

I have written elsewhere on this blog about my experience as a contributor on the progressive rock database/website ProgArchives.com. To preface this particular entry, it will be useful to explain how the site works and my role in it.  ProgArchives is an online database of progressive rock artists and albums, and it allows registered users to publish their reviews of the albums listed on the site.  Because progressive rock is a dynamic universe, with new bands appearing all the time (and obscure forgotten bands being re-discovered regularly), it was necessary to put some "guard rails" around the site to make it manageable. The site divides progressive rock into about a dozen genres, and small teams of members volunteer to manage the addition of new bands that fit into their assigned genre. Only after the team approves a band using fairly narrow criteria to keep the volume manageable, can a band and its albums be added to the database. I was on one of these teams for a couple of years - my particular specialty was the genre known as "RIO/Avant" (where "RIO" = "Rock in Opposition", a European movement of Zappa-inspired quasi-chamber prog that delights in dissonance), a genre with no shortage of new young & hungry bands entering the scene.

ProgArchives also has a genre classification for "Canterbury Scene", acknowledging the uniqueness and lasting impact of some of the finest prog bands in prog's early history that all hailed from the Canterbury area in the late 60s and early 70s. Many have been covered on this blog: Soft Machine, Caravan, Hatfield & the North, and National Health, among others. However, since the very name of "Canterbury Scene" implies a specific historical time and place, it was anticipated that new bands would not normally be added to the site under this classification. Plenty of new bands still appeared that drew inspiration from the Canterbury bands, but actually getting classified as a Canterbury Scene band seemed highly unlikely, as there were other more general classifications that usually fit just as well. However, someone still needed to be in charge of this particular genre, so I assumed responsibility, never expecting my number to come up.

Many years later (January, 2020) I was no longer active on the site, not having taken on any genre-team responsibilities for at least five years. But I received a private message on the site forum from a guy named Ryan Stevenson, who got my name from a long-neglected info page on the site that listed me as the guy to contact about Canterbury Scene additions. He wished his personal project to be added to the site, thought Canterbury Scene was the best fit, and gave me a link to his as-yet-unreleased album, Zopp by Zopp. As a member of the genre teams, I had been approached directly on several occasions by artists in the past, but this was the first time it had occurred for the Canterbury genre, so I was dubious.

Curious, I gave it a listen and could immediately tell this stuff was Legit with a capital L. Here was a fairly young guy with an arsenal of organs, Mellotrons, and analog keyboards who also overdubbed himself on bass and guitar did a fantastic job of capturing the Canterbury spirit. Largely instrumental, Zopp bears the most resemblance to Hatfield & the North, National Health, and Supersister (a Dutch band who were one of the few non-British bands with the "Canterbury" tag). Drums were added by Italian drummer Andrea Moneta, and additional instrumental and co-production help was provided by Andy Tillison, a well-known member of prog band The Tangent. Caroline Joy Clarke contributes wordless vocals on three tracks. The result was a full-sounding, mature work that could pass as a lost 70s album while never sounding like an outright imitation.

Ryan had already asked via an appropriate forum thread to have his band considered for addition, so he was already "in the queue", but despite my lack of recent involvement with the site I couldn't resist giving the team a little nudge with my own personal nod of approval. I was glad to learn Zopp got added to the database under the Canterbury Scene genre, with everyone on the site as enthusiastic about this album as I was.

While researching for this blog post, I learned another fun ProgArchives tidbit - Zopp was subsequently voted the #1 album of the year on that site's year-end poll!  Zopp have since released its second album, Dominion, earlier this year (February 2023), and although I have not heard it yet, I plan to get it soon. It's already generating a wave of good feedback from the prog fandom.  

Zopp's two albums are now available on streaming, CD and download from various sellers such as Amazon Music, Discogs, Qobuz, Spotify etc. They are also available from Zopp's bandcamp page - www.zopp.bandcamp.com. If you like the Canterbury sound and spirit, this is the band for you.

Dan:

I like Zopp's update on the classic Canterbury sound. The vintage keyboard and guitar sounds are uncanny, and some of them could easily be spliced into an old Caravan tune. But I stress the word "update," as Zopp is no slavish homage to Canterbury. For example, "Before the Light" is an energetic revision of the sound with more drive from the drum kit, coupled with a shifting array of keyboard sounds (electric piano, synths, and organ). Also, there are no vocal tracks featured on Zopp. 

I also detect sources closer to jazz including (obviously) Soft Machine but also Weather Report. The deep bass line on "Eternal Return" reminded me immediately of the introduction to "Birdland," off of Weather Report's Heavy Weather album. The two shorter tunes - "Sanger" and "Sellanrå" - lean more towards prettier melodic expressions (although nothing on Zopp is ugly). I even hear birds chirping at the end of "Sellanrå," undoubtedly one of the "field recordings" credited to Ryan Stevenson (see note below).

The final track, "The Noble Shrinker," comes closest to honoring the long-form, multi-part compositions characteristic of the Canterbury Scene. There is no narrative to accompany the suite, but it's still an effective use of the story-like format. It's the longest track at 9:19 and ends the album dramatically.

Note: Here are the credits listed under Stevenson on Discogs' entry for Zopp: Keyboards, Mellotron [Mellotron M4000D], Electric Organ [Hammond Organ, Korg CX-3 Organ], Synthesizer [Arturia Analogue Synthesizer], Piano, Electric Piano [Hohner Pianet T], Synth [Nord Electro 5d], Bass, Electric Guitar, Voice, Field Recording [Field Recordings], Percussion.

 

Bent Knee - Say So (2016)

Steve:

Bent Knee was the band that ultimately inspired me to attend the 2016 Prog Day Festival, an annual two-day outdoor event in my old stomping grounds of Chapel Hill, North Carolina, held over the Labor Day weekend. In my initial "prog renaissance" of the 1990s, Prog Day was one of several progressive rock-oriented festivals that sprouted around the US, but Prog Day was special to me. First, it was closest to where I lived (about a 7-hour drive from Atlanta), but more importantly, it was small, accessible, and featured lesser known, up-and-coming bands.  

Although I attended several Prog Days in the 1990s, for various reasons I stopped going, although I never stopped missing it. By 2016, I had made several friends online that all planned to attend that year, and although I was unfamiliar with headliner Bent Knee's music, I had heard enough about them to know that their upcoming appearance created a lot of excitement. So I finally broke my 15+ year absence to attend the festival once again and was glad to see that very little about it had changed in the interim. I've tried to make a point of attending regularly ever since. Bent Knee's live performance, incidentally, was riveting - their youthful energy, turn-on-a-dime changes, and dramatic songs kept my eyes and ears absorbing every moment.

On paper, Bent Knee are a group of college-age classmates at the Berklee College of Music, and had formed a band to indulge their adventurous souls and talented chops. The band name is an elision of the names of the band's founders: guitarist Ben Levin and vocalist/keyboardist Courtney Swain (Ben + Courtney = Bentney). They are the two members most responsible for the band's direction and compositions. Swain in particular stands out, and clearly the band's songs are written to feature her impressive vocal power and range. Joining Levin and Swain are bassist/singer Jessica Kion, violinist Chris Baum, drummer Gavin Wallace-Ailsworth, and a wildcard - Vince Welch, who is a full-time band member but is credited with "production and sound design". In essence, Welch is the Brian Eno of the band. On stage Welch sits in the back behind a laptop and does all kinds of weird things to their sound, giving their music sound an otherworldly atmosphere like that heard on Say So, the band's third album (released on Cuneiform; their first two albums were self-released). 

Say So fills me with a range of mixed emotions whenever I play it. The album spans the whole range of styles from pop-friendly to nightmarish to gently beautiful to avant-garde, often without much warning. As a guy who admittedly doesn't usually pay much attention to lyrics, the lyrics and vocal arrangements of Bent Knee really hit me in the gut. Swain has the technical skill to squeeze every bit of emotion out of her lyrics, and she often sings of the stresses and insecurities of being a woman in the modern world. The songs are arranged in as dramatic a fashion as possible, often foregoing the verse/chorus format in favor of simply following the emotion of the texts, with the band supporting this path every step of the way.

Standouts include the opening two tracks (which I like to consider as a pair): "Black Tar Water" and the "Leak Water". "Black Tar Water" is tender and gentle, with Swain hitting high swooping notes that always give me chills. "Leak Water" continues the mood but with a more rhythmic approach. The album starts to get pretty weird after that. "Counselor" is a tense musical drama that seems to be sung from the point of view of a woman on the verge of a breakdown, with sudden musical shifts and loud/quiet dynamics.

"EVE" is even weirder, and at nine minutes it's by far the lengthiest piece here. This song puts us inside the mind of a seemingly well-off single mother who has become so lonely that she spends her evenings building a fake companion in the basement, after the kids have gone to sleep. Musically, it may privilege "psychodrama" at the expense of memorable melodic or rhythmic elements, and it's not one of my favorites. Maybe Vince's "sound design" went a tad off the rails here, but it's still an engrossing listen.

Say So gets easier to swallow after that. "The Things You Love" is a favorite, beginning and ending with an anthemic wordless choral melody, bookending a lovely and quiet tune that slowly builds back to the climax at the end. "Nakami" is another gentle tune, this one defined by a memorable guitar motif. "Commercial" adds a bit of humor, with a group-chanted chorus that seems to be a comment on commercialism. "Hands Up" begins with the loveliest vocal melody since the beginning of the album in another quiet segment, before suddenly turning into a straight-up pop tune with a sing-along chorus ironically praising life consumed by our electronic devices and online lives. "Good Girl" ends the album on a somber but poignant note, with more commentary on society's demeaning and unfair attitudes towards women.

Bent Knee are a lot of things at once, and I've found myself having to take breaks between immersions in their music. Partly because the intensity and excitement of their sound gets me "binging" on them for a while (both this album and the earlier Shiny Eyed Babies have gotten the most spins), before ultimately getting emotionally exhausted. It had been a few years since last my last listen to Say So when I undertook this review, and I had nearly forgotten what a rollercoaster ride it is.

Dan:

There are many previously unfamiliar albums included in our blog that I enjoyed getting to know. Say So is not one of them. As Steve points out, listening to Bent Knee is an intense and exhausting listening experience. With few exceptions, the most interesting moments for me are drowned in the arrangements that consistently add distorted, over-the-top dramatic effects. While that is obviously a modern style of performance, similar to the hip-hop songs I tried to understand, I can't help but wish for a cleaner, more straightforward voice and instrumental balance. 

That said, I appreciate Bent Knee's choice of subject matter for their songs. Most make me uncomfortable because they're intentionally disturbing and even perverse. Building a robot lover in your basement, fantasizing about your therapist, and loving only dead things aren't scenarios I usually find in any kind of music. But that doesn't mean that they should be suppressed. Indeed, I take the whole point of Say So as a venture to express the uncomfortable thoughts and difficult situations experienced by (mostly) younger women. 

It would be unfair to judge Say So as overstated anguish because that is their point. They've won the adoration of a dedicated following. Nonetheless, the album doesn't work for me, not because I shy away from discord but because the message contains so little nuance. I think that's what makes it exhausting, which again may be the band's whole point.

To its credit, Say So draws attention to emotions long neglected and rarely expressed. That's a worthy aim of many forms of art, including progressive rock. Add to that the impressive range of expression deployed by Courtney Swain (who sounds a little like Grace Slick in places), and you have an album that needs to be heard. 

Sonar - Black Light (2015)

Steve:

Much of the beauty in the natural world adheres to mathematical principles. The layman's view of mathematics is often that of cold, purely intellectual theoretical concepts with no relation to the real world, but in reality the opposite is true. The arrangement and proportion of branches on a tree, the logarithmic growth spiral of a nautilus shell, and even patterns that seem random all can be expressed in terms of mathematical functions. While it is beyond my level of education to fully elaborate on this concept, suffice to say that I believe in what is often called "mathematical beauty". While a mathematical function can't guarantee "beauty" (however you define that), sometimes natural phenomena are as fascinating and beautiful as they are precisely because of their mathematical nature.

Some proponents of the minimalist school of music have attempted to take a methodical, mathematical approach to composition to see what kind of aesthetic beauty could be achieved by such means. One key piece of the puzzle was provided by Terry Riley, with his composition "In C" (1964), which combined 53 separate repeated musical phrases of varying length, overlapping each other continuously and at varying intervals, creating different combinations of rhythm and pitch to produce an ever-changing mosaic of sound.  

This approach to music-making greatly influenced certain sectors of progressive rock, notably King Crimson, particularly in their 1980s lineup with Adrian Belew, Tony Levin, and Bill Bruford joining bandleader Robert Fripp (see the songs "Discipline" and "Frame by Frame" for examples of this influence). Applied to a rock context, the idea of overlapping dissimilar phrases to create asynchronous clusters that gradually merge to create unexpected melodies and themes turned into what became known as "math rock".  As with any sub-genre of music, math rock can be either very exciting or very boring, depending not only on the listener's tastes but also on the artistic acumen of the musical ensemble. In the end, pure mathematics can't create a convincing rock performance - energy and "feel" are equally important.

Enter Sonar, a Swiss 4-piece ensemble of 2-guitar/bass/drums that aims at mathematical purity that feels loose while formally being tight as a drum. Led by Stephan Thelen (guitar), Sonar performs meticulously composed mathematical constructs, but these pieces are given life through extensive rehearsal and live performance. Thus, it's not just the notes on the page that are in the composition, but how the pieces live and breathe in performance. Fittingly, all the pieces on Black Light (their third album) are played live, with each instrument claiming an equal space in the mix, with no special effects apart from the natural acoustics of the room they're playing in.  

Another striking feature of Sonar's music is its tonality. The guitars and the bass are all played in an odd tuning, with the strings tuned to tritones (augmented 4ths), one of the most dissonant intervals in Western music. When I took music theory in college, I would get points off on my homework if I put a tritone interval into my harmonic exercise! In Sonar's music, this tuning ensures that few of the simple figures that make up the pieces contain standard major/minor scale elements; instead, there is chromatic and tritonal movement. If you're a King Crimson fan, you've doubtless heard many melodies of this sort already ("Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part Two", for example). 

Black Light contains six tracks each lasting 5-10 minutes, and each offering a variation on the band's methodology. The opening track, "Enneagram", offers a good summary of what they're about. Following a quiet introductory drone, the two guitarists begin their complementary palm-muted and plucked harmonic phrases, before the bass and drums enter to slice up the phrase into quirky and unexpected rhythmic chunks. The piece develops slowly over the course of 9 minutes, varying the beat and the guitar themes ever so slightly while maintaining a consistent overall groove. "Orbit 5.7", "Angular Momentum", and "Critical Mass" are all composed using the same general strategy, but with varying moods. For example, "Orbit 5.7", although melodically similar to "Enneagram", offers more space and more atmospheric guitar tones, befitting its planetary title. 

The two shortest pieces, "Black Light" and "String Geometry", change up the formula a bit, offering two relatively straightforward King Crimson-like instrumentals, both with their general ensemble sound intact. "Black Light" itself is their own spin on the likes of Crimson's "Larks' Tongues in Aspic", with its heavy riffing and less tangled ensemble interplay. "String Geometry", on the other hand, sounds more like their take on Crimson's "Discipline" (or for a more obscure example, "The ConstruKction of Light"), a briskly paced, more rhythmically consistent piece that highlights the harmony of the two guitars rather than the complex webs of the longer pieces.

I got to see Sonar perform live at ProgDay 2017, and I was struck by the interaction between the band members on stage. They were clearly well-rehearsed and used most of their energy to watch and listen to their bandmates, truly operating together as a unit. On this occasion, the "unit" was joined onstage by legendary guitarist David Torn for the second half of the performance. While Torn's role seemed to be simply creating weird sounds and solos on top of the band's tight machinery (which was fine, but admittedly it got a bit loud), the union apparently was fruitful enough to inspire the expanded lineup to record together as "Sonar & David Torn", producing four albums together as of this writing. I have not heard any of these yet, but I look forward to seeing how they fare creatively together in the studio.

Dan: 

I never would have guessed that the mathematical foundation explained by Steve was behind the music on Black Light. I've played the album several times over the previous five months and enjoyed the quartet's creations. I could hear the influence of King Crimson's Larks' Tongues and their albums Discipline, Beat, and Three of a Perfect Pair. "Angular Phenomenon" is the most Fripp-like track on Black Light, but "Critical Mass" is also indebted to Fripp.

I also related to the concept of pulse, which is a foundation of many artists and albums I like: Steve Reich's Music for 18 Musicians, Philip Glass's Glassworks and Koyaanisqatsi, Terry Riley's A Rainbow in Curved Air and Shri Camel, and many of Anthony Braxton's compositions in the jazz world. Almost all rock and jazz music is rooted in rhythm, which is probably traceable to biological routines of human life like heartbeats and breaths, but also paced by mechanical and electronic devices. We don't often reflect on the reasons for pulse, but it seems inherent to everything we do. In turn, music of almost any genre is based on repetition and pulsation.

Tonally, Black Light reminds me of drummer Jerry Granelli's V16 band, especially their double live album, The Sonic Temple. Jerry died a couple of years ago at age 80. V16 are not as precise as the Swiss timekeepers of Sonar (they drift more than they march), but they're configured the same and generate the same deep sounds from their axes. 

Steven Wilson - The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories) (2013)

Steve:

Porcupine Tree went on hiatus following their 2009 album The Incident, on which it seemed that the band were beginning to stagnate. Bandleader Steven Wilson immediately embarked on a solo career, producing albums that were every bit as ambitious and progressive as his former band, if not more so. His second solo album, Grace for Drowning (2011), had been a favorite of mine for that year, featuring a number of personal, intense songs with elaborate arrangements that reflected the strong influence of King Crimson. Small wonder, considering Wilson had spent the prior couple of years collaborating with Robert Fripp on new restorations/remixes of the classic King Crimson catalog. At this time in his life (in his early forties, like I was), Wilson possessed the Midas touch as both sound engineer and musician and had become the modern go-to guy for classic progressive rock.

The excitement level was therefore high when The Raven That Refused to Sing was released. Here was an album that appeared to be Wilson's attempt to give classic prog fans exactly what they wanted: six tracks ranging from 5 to 12 minutes apiece, each deliberately turning the "Prog!!" dials to 11 in a way that fans had not seen from Wilson since the earliest days of Porcupine Tree. The overriding concept is a collection of unrelated stories about doomed and/or haunted individuals. 

To further guarantee the album's lofty pedigree, Wilson brought in Alan Parsons to engineer the album, used Robert Fripp's own Mellotron, and enlisted Dave Stewart (of Hatfield & the North and National Health) to write some string arrangements.  

The blaringly obvious "Prog!!" premise caused a bit of backlash, raising an interesting philosophical question among prog fans. If a master craftsman intentionally produces a piece of art that checks off all the boxes for an ideal prog album (complexity, vintage instruments, superb sonics, musical drama), is it an original piece of art, a knock-off copy, or a cynically pandering pastiche? Opinions seemed to vary.

Personally, I think complaints about the lack of originality are both petty and overthought. By any valid standard, The Raven That Refused to Sing is a stunning musical work. Nothing here sounds like a copy of older works, even if it is often easy to play "spot the influence". And copy or not, the music is deep, expertly recorded and performed, and approachable. It even offers an easy entry point; arguably the most exciting part of the album is at the beginning, in the instrumental introduction to the 12-minute "Luminol", with its awesome lead bass (shades of Yes), energetic tempo, and keyboards, guitar, and drums all going full-throttle. "Luminol"'s main vocal section operates in a quieter realm before returning to some of the introductory themes to close it out.  

Of the remaining tracks, my favorite is "The Watchmaker", which fans were quick to point out begins very much like early Genesis with its calm but ominous acoustic intro (similar to "The Musical Box"). This track also goes over the 10-minute mark, giving it plenty of time to build its tale of the doomed protagonist plagued with guilt about his deceased wife. Once the loud guitar solo comes in, Wilson plays in the same finger-tapping style that Genesis guitarist Steve Hackett was known for. The track ends in an unsettling flurry of rhythm, instruments and voices. The third 10+ minute track, "The Holy Drinker", has some very hot fusion-inspired instrumental bits, with synth work sounding a bit like Chick Corea's Return to Forever. 

Two of the three shorter tracks hover in ballad territory ("Drive Home", "The Raven That Refused to Sing"), offering a bit of grounding in between the longer epics. "The Pin Drop" offers more extreme dynamics, like the longer pieces, but is structured more concisely at just 5 minutes long, sounding more like a late-period Porcupine Tree song.  

In what seems like an attempt to pull together everything Wilson loves about classic progressive rock, The Raven succeeds primarily as superb craftwork, with real feeling and real "sweat" in the playing. It was performed by his actual touring band, not just Wilson overdubbing himself, which he probably could have done had he wanted to. He continues to be a central figure in modern progressive rock, with true passion for the genre as well as an impressive arsenal of skills as a producer, guitarist, songwriter, and bandleader.

Dan:

It's hard to argue against the merits of an album as solid as The Raven That Refused to Sing. It's also hard to ignore the repertory feel of the material; in fact, it should be entertaining for progressive rock cognoscenti (prognoscenti?) to play "spot that influence" or "name that quotation." Jazz has a similar controversy amongst critics who sneer at returns to tradition versus those who appreciate sincere homages. Clearly, musical genres have to look forward and backward at the same time. Otherwise, new music would lose it's connection to the past and listeners would lose their bearings. Albums honoring previous styles can also compensate for previous limitations in recording technology, which obviously is a tribute to Steven Wilson's production skills.

I'll briefly share the influences I spotted quickly on The Raven. 

• The Chris Squire bass lead on "Luminol." An easy one.
• After the boisterous 4 minutes of "Luminol" I hear Crosby, Stills & Nash backed by King Crimson!
• "The Holy Drinker" takes a page from the Mahavishnu Orchestra and features an organist who sounds like either Keith Emerson or Rick Wakeman.

It's rare to find an album that serves as a tribute to an entire genre; most often tributes are to specific musicians or composers. In jazz, tributes to earlier styles often end up as disasters (like numerous feeble tributes to Dixieland), but tributes to luminaries such as Coltrane, Monk, Ellington, and Jelly Roll Morton can be exceptionally good. With The Raven, Wilson has not fallen into the trap of replicating prog's past. Rather, he's drawn from multiple prog resources to assemble a mosaic of original works that celebrate the maturity of the genre.

There is enough content on The Raven to dig into over many auditions, and I'm just getting started.

The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love (2009)

Steve:

After the early 1990s, it became fairly common to encounter an old-style progressive rock album from a fresh new band. But by the 2000s, for a variety of reasons I had stopped actively seeking out progressive rock acts and turned instead to "indie rock" for inspiration. I followed publications such as Spin magazine, which would occasionally point me to interesting bands. My first revelation was a band called The Fiery Furnaces, whose 2004 album Blueberry Boat was touted as a sprawling progressive opus. Sure enough, it was, and in an entirely new idiom for me, blending Zappa-like musical shifts with electronics and urgent, Dada-esque vocalizations that were a wake-up call that progressive rock continued to thrive beyond the predictable format of the more traditional bands who populated the prog festivals.

With renewed expectations, it came as a surprise when The Decemberists entered the scene. They were marketed as an "indie" band, but tended towards long folky epics, with accordions and tales of maritime revenge. "Indie" tag notwithstanding, they seemed like the reincarnation of the fairytale-spinning prog storytellers of yore. I took notice when The Tain EP (2004), Picaresque (2005), and The Crane Wife (2006) hit the shelves, the latter being their first on a major label - Capitol. But for the most part, these albums felt like a lot of bluster and bombast without enough to keep me interested in the long term. 

Enter The Hazards of Love, an album I approached with low expectations. To my surprise, it's an immediately captivating album that develops an operatic story both musically and lyrically at a perfect pace, with shades of light and dark in balanced proportion. Even before I understood what the story was about (recall from prior posts that I rarely pay attention to lyrics without a concerted effort), I followed the emotion of the story through its dramatic build ups, its reprisal/reuse of key musical themes, and its expert use of guest singers to bring characters to life. In 2009, I proudly claimed this to be my favorite album of the year, and each subsequent hearing reinforces that opinion. It's one of the best rock operas I've ever heard.  

So what is it about? Colin Meloy (guitar, vocals) is the leader of this outfit, and he composed all but one of the pieces (keyboardist Jenny Conlee's organ/synth intro). The story is in the mold of a classic Shakespearean tragedy along the lines of Romeo and Juliet - forbidden lovers who triumph over their fate by ultimately ending their lives together in the name of love. I recommend reading the fine synopsis on Wikipedia for further details.

For some examples of what puts this concept album in an elite class, consider first the clever recurring musical themes. There are formally four parts to the title track, spread throughout the program, each of which culminates in a similar manner but frames a different situation and arrives from a different musical idea. Likewise, "The Bower Scene" and "Margaret in Captivity" appear early in the first and second acts respectively, using the same ominously suspenseful music to prop up different scenes.

Next, the guest singers on this album really shine. The jealous and vengeful Forest Queen appears on two tracks ("The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid" and "The Queen's Rebuke") voiced by Shara Worden, who offers a thoroughly convincing performance that gives me goosebumps. Margaret, the protagonist, is given a vulnerable reading by guest singer Becky Stark. Colin Meloy voices most of the other characters, and he gets deep into each one to bring them to life.

Maybe the best example of this album’s expert craft is the transition from “Isn’t it a Lovely Night?” to “The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid”. The former is a sweet, peaceful number led by a lovestruck accordion melody. The latter begins abruptly just as the former’s last note fades, with a variation on the same melody, but in a minor key played staccato on the harpsichord. One can almost see the jealous Queen bursting into the room and discovering the lovers. 

The Hazards of Love is the last album I ever listened to by the Decemberists. I decided, rightly or wrongly, that anything they did after it would be disappointing. I had also heard that their follow-up, The King is Dead (2011), was a "return to the roots", a sign of disaster in my narrow mind. (I tend to shy away from overly folksy or country music made in the name of "going back to the roots" due to biases on my part, so I accept responsibility for that.) But even if I do return to the band's work, I suspect that The Hazards of Love will prove to an example of "lightning in a bottle" - a miracle that only happens once, and I would be extremely surprised to learn that further works of equal quality were still in them. If you've heard them, please feel free to prove me wrong. 

Dan:

My first exposure to the genre of rock opera was with The Who's Tommy, released in 1969 and a huge, unexpected hit. Musical theater had also adopted rock scores with a psychedelic flavor, such as Hair, Jesus Christ Superstar, and others. It was hard to escape this subgenre even as it sprawled beyond its limitations. Prog rockers frequently revisited the theme of a long-form narrative, such as Genesis' The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. Of course, as a Camel fan, I was used to themed albums about snow geese, marooned soldiers, human migration, and other inspirations of the team of Susan Hoover and Andrew Latimer.

I was also fairly well versed in classic opera, thanks to my mother who loved to listen to the live broadcasts from the Met on Saturday afternoons. She would explain the stories to me; she and I were both fond of Wagner. My parents also had several of the comic operettas by Gilbert and Sullivan (The Pirates of Penzance and The Mikado, among others), which I remember well. 

None of that prior experience prepared me for my first encounter with The Hazards of Love a few months ago. After reading a brief summary of the story online, I was not impressed and could not imagine how such a mundane fantasy could be worthy of a rock opera. But as I heard the music, I understood what the fuss was about. So I looked forward to the time that I would revisit The Hazards of Love for the blog.

The second full session of listening revealed so much more than my first exposure. It's a beautifully crafted suite that does not seem like an opera but rather an integrated collection of songs that form a magnificent whole. I love the recurring themes that work like motifs in classical music - Wagner would be proud. I also appreciate the variety of musical sounds that The Decemberists create collectively. I hear organ, accordion, banjo, steel guitar, and strings providing accents in all the right places in and around the basic guitar-based instrumentation. The recording is outstanding for a standard CD. Clearly, Colin Meloy is a great musician with a convincing singing voice, but he is also a master conceptualizer. Hazards of Love is a masterpiece. 

Unlike Steve, I was tempted to explore The King Is Dead (2011) as I'm not afraid of "roots" music such as alt country and bluegrass. I can confirm that there is an abundance of rootsiness on display in The King Is Dead. Lots of banjo, fiddle, mandolin, tambourine, acoustic 12-string guitar, etc. It's not bad, but its impact is not close to that of The Hazards of Love. I would compare the "new" Decemberists to The Jayhawks but lacking the sublime vocal harmonies between Gary Louris and Mark Olson. Meloy's vocals might benefit from moderation with backing harmonies, the way Steve Earle was able to use Emmylou Harris and Lucinda Williams. Meloy also ain't got 'nuff backwoods twang for full membership in the alt country crowd.