Posts Tagged ‘Prog’

Christopher Nosnibor

I expended a lot of typing extolling the virtues of grass-roots venues last year, and mentioned in my end -of-year summary how a change in personal circumstances had changed my gig-going habits somewhat. And so it was that I picked this one more or less on a whim: after DarkHer’s show on Monday was cancelled due to band illness, I found myself itching to see some live music.

Having been blown away by the Jesus Lizard last week, I figured seeing a band I had no knowledge or expectations of might be a good idea, as there would be less likelihood of disappointment.

A Thursday night in the middle of January is pretty much the ultimate lull in the gig year – ordinarily. So it’s pleasing to see a decent turnout early doors, with surprising mix of studenty types and older men. Grey hair, beards, bald heads… Yes, broadly my demographic now, but more like retirement age than approaching 50. At the opposite end, nerd glasses, mullets, turnups. And all as lanky as hell. Why is everyone under the age of thirty so bloody tall?

Patience are first up, bring a set of middling alt-rock with a bit of an emo edge and some flash mathy licks. The singer looks a little uncomfortable on stage: she makes rather hesitant moves when not singing, mostly with some small-stepping jogging on the spot. The band have some serious pedal setups for a bottom of the bill band with just a handful of tunes on Spotify. Perhaps partly on account of this, they sound really good. Things fall apart a bit during the last song, with tuning time-outs and false starts, and the bassist, who’s about seven feet tall and using a wireless setup, not content with bouncing and flailing in his own space, repeatedly encroaches on the singer’s space as he crosses the stage and lurches about around the drum kit. It’s a solid enough performance from a band who have no shortage of technical skill or kit, but whose songs are lacking in that all-essential grab which would make them memorable. They have clear potential, though, and I’d be interested to see them in another six months or so.

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Patience

Covent’s single, ‘Peace’, released just last week, was the only bit of pre-gig research I managed. Showcasing a proficient grunge-influenced sound, it’s more Bush than Nirvana, but I’d take that over Nickleback any day – and as a consequence, I was rather looking forward to their set.

They have even more pedals than Patience, especially the bassist. And fuck me if he’s not wearing a bloody Nickleback T-shirt. They’re certainly at the more radio-friendly end of grunge, sounding like Language. Sex. Violence. Other? era Stereophonics crossed with Celebrity Skin era Hole – not to mention Smashing Pumpkins. They sound great, mind, and the singer’s voice has a good level of grit and gravel, and when they do really kick it hard, as on ‘Under the Surface’, they move above drive time grunge into heavy-hitting territory. ‘Out of the Blue’ does remind me rather of Weezer, although I can’t put my finger on anything precisely, and they close with ‘Peace’. It’s a sound choice and a strong finish to a thoroughly decent set. I could easily see them playing considerably larger rooms.

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Covent

Chonky Dogg demonstrate why it’s worth taking punts on bands, and why grassroots venues are vital. Where else would a local band with no label backing – that is to say, a real band rather than a manufactured one – get to cut their teeth and build a fanbase? There’s been much made of the cutting of the pipeline, how the not-so-slow death of the small venue circuit is starting to choke the development of acts who will be playing arenas and headlining festivals in years to come. Chonky Dogg are never going to be headlining Glastonbury or selling out O2 venues around the country – but given the right exposure, clearly have the potential to play to substantially larger audiences than this.

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Chonky Dogg

Theirs is a daft name, but it so happens they’re a great band, strongly reminiscent of And So I Watch You from Afar, another band I discovered by way of a fluke because I went to see maybeshewill – on the basis of hearing a single – while staying in Stirling for a conference. They play noodly, mathy post rock driven by big, big riffs. Their music is complex, yet accessible, richly layered, with some magnificent detail, wonderful guitar interplay, and some dense, crunchy bass. The songs pack some weight and substance. And, they’re as tight as they come: is it really only their third gig? ‘Barbenheimer’ is a blistering riff-fest with soaring lead work, and everything about their performance is perfectly balanced and brilliantly executed. A beautiful proggy neoclassical interlude prefaces the final song, scheduled for single release soon (I think), and it’s a blinder.

I’m going to call it here first while I can: they really are the (Chonky) Dogg’s bollocks.

Trestle Records – 18th December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Tout isn’t a seedy guy flogging – or trying to buy, at a cut-price – tickets outside a gig, but a band which, on this, their fourth album (bet you never guessed that) brings together aspects of contemporary classical, jazz and ambient, in addition to the ‘folk and new age traditions’ which influence their previous works. It follows and extends the trajectory of their previous albums, sequentially numbered with the exception of their last Live, released in 2017.

It’s certainly a lot to toss in together, and with no fewer than ten musicians contributing to this release, the compositions certainly afford a considerable amount of layering and offer much to process. Even after a few listens, I’m still digesting and on the fence as to whether the combined elements are appealing or not.

Jazz comes in almost infinite flavours, and it’s not the ‘nice’ jazz to which the cliché of the listener sporting a goatee and cardigan applies which is the strain that tantalises my taste buds – but Tout do sit perilously close to this at times. At others… they’re truly sublime.

One of their habits is to title the tracks – instrumental pieces, all – in such a was as read in sequence, they form a poem, although on Fourth, it ends abruptly, despite the full stop making it clear that this is no accidental cliffhanger.

I rob the rich to feed the poor

Which hardly is a sin

A widow ne’er knocked at my door

But what I let her in

So blame me not for what I’ve done

I don’t deserve your curses

And if for any cause I’m hung.

‘I rob the rich to feed the poor’ makes for an expansive, atmospheric start to the album, slow-swelling cymbals and understated percussion hover in the background while delicate sonic waves rise and fall, while smooth saxophone echoes out atop it all, growing increasingly excited toward the climactic finish.

It’s broad-brushed, sweeping synths and soft strings which provide the backdrop to ‘Which hardly is a sin’, where a strolling bass stumbles and stutters from time to time. ‘A widow ne’er knocked at my door’ marks something of a change in tone, with sparse acoustic guitar mournful strings bringing an altogether folkier feel in contrast to the jazz vibes. At the same time, it’s reminiscent of some of the post-rock which was all the rage circa 2005.

‘So blame me not for what I’ve done’ is truly magnificent: a minimal, piano-centred piece, it’s haunting and melancholy and leaves you feeling somewhat hollowed and bereft, and it’s apparent that – to my ears, at least – the less overtly jazz works are the superior ones on the album. Admittedly, that’s a matter of taste, but, objectively, Tout seem at their most inventive and creatively enthused when venturing into these different territories.

The album ends as abruptly as the poem it spins: one moment, ‘And if for any cause I’m hung.’ after a subtle, sedate start, is jazzing along, the bass strolling and ambling – and then suddenly it isn’t, petering out, unresolved. Et c’est tout. It’s well played, both literally and figuratively.

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Klonosphere Records / Season of Mist – 13th September 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

We’re promised ‘an unprecedented auditory experience’ and warn us to ‘Prepare to be engulfed in a sonic journey where brutal rhythms meet wild improvisations, pushing the boundaries of what metal and jazz can achieve together.’ As much as I think ‘unprecedented is a much overused word – and often as spuriously as ‘exponential’, when presented with a work which combines metal and jazz, I have to admit that there’s fairly limited precedent in what is, unquestionably, a very small field. There’s GOD, perhaps, but they were of a more industrial persuasion, in a meat grinder with heavy avant-jazz, whereas Killing Spree are dirty, dark, guttural growly metal. The pitch is that ‘Following the acclaimed release of their EP A Violent Legacy, featuring inventive covers of classics by Death and Meshuggah’, Camouflage ‘continues to showcase their unique blend of death-metal ferocity and electrifying, irreverent free jazz textures’.

Killing Spree is Matthieu Metzger (Klone, National Jazz Orchestra, Louis Sclavis, etc.) and Grégoire Galichet (Deathcode Society, Glaciation, Kwoon, Vent Debout), and it’s Metzger who brings the jazz. As we learn, his sax is heavily treated, ‘manipulated with an array of machines’ and in truth, it doesn’t sound like a saxophone for the most part. In fact, while at times it sounds like an angry three-foot hornet having a fit, it generally sounds like nothing else on earth, at least not that I’ve heard. Consequently, it doesn’t even sound particularly ‘jazz’; it’s an aggressive drone, a buzz, a deep whine.

The title track is a wild ride of what sounds like a combination of technical metal and sludgy, doomy Sabbath-esque metal and blasts its way past the seven and a half minute mark. The drumming is colossal, positively megalithic.

At times, shit gets really weird, and no more weird than on the frenzied thrash of ‘Disposable’, where everything jolts and crashes against everything else: the riff is as relentless as it is chaotic, then from amidst the frenetic cacophony, bold brass bursts forth, and fuck me if it doesn’t border on ska-punk, and it would be quite the knees-up were it not for the fact that everything else in this manic maelstrom is gritty metal and heavy as hell. ‘The Psychopomp’ sounds like a stomping keyboard-led synthy glam stomper , and is perhaps the most overtly prog piece on here. Around the mid-point it hits a heavy groove, overlayed with some agitated-sounding but also absolutely epic brass. These guys certainly get thee way of layering: there is simply so much going on across the span of each song, let along the full expanse of Camouflage that it’s difficult to digest.

The delicate woodwind into on ‘Toute Cette Violence Qui Est En Moi’ gradually evolves into some brazenly meandering jazz, with rattling percussion and a sense of space – space to breathe, space in general. Moments later, ‘All These Bells and Whistles Part I’ piledrives in with a frenzy of horns and percussion and off-the scale discord and crazed incongruity – not to mention thunderous end-of-days power chords which slug their way, low slow, and heavy, to the end. It’s a long four and a half minutes, a crawling trudging grind worthy of early Swans, with the addition of dingy, devastating vocals.

The two-part ‘All These Bells and Whistles’, with a combined running time of almost twelve minutes is truly a monster, and this is a fair description of this genre-smashing effort. I expected to have some pithy summary, but my brain is fried. It’s dark, it’s gnarly, it’s jazzy, it’s heavy… it’s everything all at once.

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Blood Incantation have finally released a preview into their forthcoming album, Absolute Elsewhere which sees its release next Friday via Century Media. Its first movement, ‘The Stargate’ is available today in its entirety across digital retailers and comes with an exquisite short film, The Stargate which was directed by award winning cinematographer Michael Ragen (Guillermo del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosities: The Viewing) and features mesmerising analog fluid effects by Chris Parks (The Fountain).

‘The Stargate’ Side One: A violent storm invokes the familiar before a grand cosmic key turn for a hint of sweeping scope to come with spiritual acknowledgement and accompaniment by Tangerine Dream’s Thorsten Quaeschning on synths on the song’s second tablet. Musically as violent as it is mediative, with subtle spoken passages flitting between Nicklas Malmqvist’s (Hällas) busy synthesiser keys and Mellotron strings invoking both the modern and ancient, and it is all given sharp focus by Arthur Rizk’s powerfully dynamic and enveloping mix. Blood Incantation depart Extreme Metal’s traditionally antiquated way-station, warping their way towards ‘Genre of One’ stature, as ‘The Stargate’ intones the disembodiment of consciousness itself, careening through the stargate towards Samsara-like reincarnation, punctuated by the occasional growl from Sijjin/ex-Necros Christos main-man, Malte Gericke.

‘The Stargate’ short film is unlike anything you have experienced before. It presents the saga of a mysterious artefact and its victims in a hallucinatory synthesis of science fiction and folk horror, where mind-bending imagery and unsettling atmospheres converge in a surreal tale of primeval blood magic, inter-dimensional travel and grotesque otherworldly technology beginning in the Dark Ages and journeying into voids of deep space.

Watch the video here:

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Absolute Elsewhere hovers at nearly 45 minutes, their longest full length recording yet, the album’s two movements – ‘The Stargate’ and ‘The Message’ – are as confounding as they are engaging, exponentially expanding upon the formulas laid down by their scene-shattering debut Starspawn (2016) and landmark follow up Hidden History of the Human Race (2019).

As Blood Incantation’s Paul Riedl tells, “Absolute Elsewhere is our most potent audial extract/musical trip yet; like the soundtrack to a Herzog-style Sci-Fi epic about the history of/battle for human consciousness itself, via a 70s Prog album played by a 90s Death Metal band from the future.” For inspiration, the group looked to the mid-70’s progressive rock collective, Absolute Elsewhere (best known as a celestial stopover for King Crimson drummer, Bill Bruford) as the album’s namesake. For the uninitiated, Absolute Elsewhere’s obscure 1976 album, In Search of Ancient Gods, was constructed as a musical accompaniment to the works of Chariots of the Gods author, Erich Von Daniken, and his theories of non-terrestrial humanoid prompts towards mankind’s evolution. The subject matter of which should serve as no surprise to anyone familiar with Blood Incantation’s cosmically philosophical leanings. But make no mistake, the four musicians working under the Blood Incantation banner for the past decade – guitarist and vocalist Paul Riedl, drummer Isaac Faulk, guitarist Morris Kolontyrsky and bassist Jeff Barrett – have successfully left the microgravity of genre behind and are re-writing the Rosetta Stone of extreme music with a new language entirely. Demonstrations like their 2022 all-synth show or 2024’s Roadburn Festival headlining appearance where they played back-to-back death metal and ambient made it clear: Blood Incantation have honed their abilities to go boldly where few bands have gone before, and reveal no signs of slowing down.

Absolute Elsewhere’s release comes alongside a 73 minute feature film All Gates Open: In Search Of Absolute Elsewhere which tells the story of their time in Berlin during the summer of 2023, while recording at the legendary Hansa Studios. It will be available on Blu-Ray with the album’s deluxe mediabook package and will also include the documentary’s original soundtrack, All Gates Open (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) which includes 60 minutes of exclusive new music distinct from the new album. This special edition will also include Blood Incantation’s 2023 maxi-single, ‘Luminescent Bridge’ for the first time ever on CD, and of course, Absolute Elsewhere in both standard and Dolby Atmos / 5.1 mixes, alongside exclusive liner notes, exclusive interviews, behind the scenes photos and a forward by Ross Dolan of Immolation.

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Photo By Julian Weigand

Christopher Nosnibor

The prospect of Objections making a return to York was incentive enough to snaffle a ticket for this some time in advance, without even paying too much attention to the rest of the lineup initially, but Teleost and The Bricks provided two strong reasons to get down early, and a fair few others clearly thought the same.

All-dayers tend to have a couple of acts people aren’t especially fussed about at the bottom of the bill, often newer acts cutting their teeth, so kicking off with a brace of well-established local talents proved to be a combination of coup, genius programming, and an indication of the quality of the bill – which, in the event, didn’t include a single weak or dud act from beginning to end.

Another rare – and impressive – thing about this lineup is that it features just one all-male act. When you hear so many promoters responding to accusations of gender inequality and a lack of representation by whining about how they struggle to find and book bands with women, it feels like a massive cop-out. And here’s the proof. Eight bands, and only one that slots into the stereotypical white male bracket – and then again, they possibly get an exemption on account of their age bracket (that is to say, they’re probably about my age bracket). Anyway.

The last time I saw them, supporting Part Chimp, Leo Hancill and Cat Redfern were playing as Uncle Bari. Now they’re Teleost, and they’ve totally nailed their slow, sludgy sound. The guitar sounds like a bass, the drums sound like explosions, and it’s a mighty, mighty sound. Slow drumming is always impressive to watch, and hear, and Cat it outstanding, in every way, a hard-hitter who makes every single slow-mo cymbal crash count. They’re properly slow and heavy, with a doomy heft, but with folky vocals. The contrast is magnificent and makes Teleost a unique proposition.

It’s been a few months since I’ve seen The Bricks, and yet again they seem to have upped their game. Their set is punchy and forceful, led by a fierce vocal performance from Gemma Hartshorn. As a band, they’ve really hit their stride, and having got a fair few gigs under their belts now, they’re super-tight.

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The Bricks

Instant Bin are a busy-sounding indie duo who knock out short songs packed tightly, and they’re good entertainment, while Knitting Circle are very unlike the somewhat twee, whimsical and fluffy indie band their name suggests. They offer up some tense, mathy, angular noise with a hint of The Fall and Gang of Four, and are very much about tackling issues, with a strong anti-war song, and a song about menopause (‘Losing My Eggs’) while ‘I am the Fox’ which about fox hunting (and no, they’re not in favour) which takes its stylistic cues from Gang of Four’s ‘Not Great Men’.

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The Knitting Circle

Objections – who I also last saw supporting Part Chimp, but on a different occasion – are out hot on the heels of the release of their debut album. As you’d expect from a band with their pedigree, they’re seriously strong. A tight set of noise played with precision, propelled by some magnificently crisp jazz drumming and busy baselines that nag away, they’ve got everything nailed down. The three of them each bring something unique as performers, and they’re simply great to watch in terms of style and technique. Joseph O’Sullivan’s guitar work is so physical, lurching and bouncing here there and everywhere, and working magic with an oscillator on top; Neil Turpin looks like he’s in another world, a drummer who seemingly feels the groove instead of counting time, while Claire Adams is intently focused – seemingly on the vocals, while the fast fretwork on the bass seems to happen subconsciously. They are, in so many ways, a quintessential Leeds act, both sonically and in terms of cult status. They’d have made worthy headliners, but public transport dictated their much earlier slot. Then again, there seems to be a lot of merit to spreading the quality more evenly.

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Objections

After a clattering avant-jazz intro, The Unit Ama launch into some sinewy math rock with some serious blasts of abrasion interspersed with some meandering jazz discordance. They’re certainly the most unexpected act of the night. Despite having been around some twenty-three years, having played around the north and north-east quite extensively in that time, even opening for Fugazi in their early years, and releasing music on a label that also gave us music by That Fucking Tank, they’re still completely new to me. Their set is wildly varied and intriguing: deep prog with an experimental jazz element – showcasing the kind of shudder and judder, rattle and crash cymbal breaks that you’re more likely to hear in Café Oto than a pub in York on a Saturday evening, whereby it’s hard to determine at times if they’re highly technical or just tossing about like chimps messing about to see what noise they can make. It’s expansive work which makes for a compelling and intriguing set.

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The Unit Ama

Wormboys are again interesting, and varied, but in a completely different way. The four-piece present a broad range of indie stylings with some strikingly athletic vocals. In places, they’re atmospheric, haunting, moving. Elsewhere, there are some motorik sections and big blasts of noise, and visually. they’re striking, with an imposing and lively bassist centre stage with the two guitarists, who also share vocals, either side.

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Wormboys

The crowd had thinned a little by the time Cowtown took the stage, meaning a few missed out on their brand of buoyant synthy indie with good energy. Another frequent-gigging stalwart act on the Leeds scene, they provide another reminder of the quality of the scene between Leeds and York, and this magnificently-curated event showcased that quality.

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Cowtown

That a number of the bands took time out during their sets to speak out on political issues, from giving praise for bands pulling out of Download, espousing people power, encouraging people to vote, and trans rights  – to use their voices, in any capacity, and even simply providing a ‘fuck the Tories’ call of disenfranchisement, it’s heartening to feel that we have bands who are politically engaged and using their platforms for more than mere entertainment. In bleak times, that there is a real sense of artistic community among such disparate acts gives a sense of hope. That hope may be misplaced, but to just step sideways from all of the shit for a few hours, immersed in a bubble, with beer and live music is the perfect escape. We should do this again sometime.

Greek prog-driven metalcore newcomers Oathswan have recently shared a music video for a brand new song off the band’s debut EP For Those Who Breathe From Darkness, which was released last Friday, May 10.

Titled ‘Death Comes Home’, you can watch it here:

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The band had this to say about the new song ‘Death Comes Home’, the 3rd track from the EP For Those Who Breathe From Darkness. “The song deals with the idea of home, our safe space, our sacred place. The place where we feel secure and distanced from our fears. Anyone who wishes to stay there without permission, means to end you.”

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Get lost in Blood Incantation’s interstellar new video ‘Luminescent Bridge’ – available today ahead of their performances at Roadburn Festival. ‘Luminescent Bridge’ pivots to the introspection of infinity. Created entirely in the studio, the nine-minute track plays out like a dying star—ominous, forlorn, yet hopeful of rebirth.

Blood Incantation tells, “Originally conceived as an acoustic interlude in the tradition of ‘Meticulous Soul Devourment’ and ‘(Mirror of the Soul)’, ‘Luminescent Bridge’ quickly became something entirely different upon entering Rocky Mountain Recorders in March 2023. Compelled by a tangible air of creativity, we forwent acoustic instruments entirely and ended up implementing several spur-of-the-moment ideas – such as drums, grand piano and even trombone – to create a vast, dynamic tapestry of textures both alien and familiar, yet remaining quintessentially Blood Incantation in feeling and atmosphere. Drenched in analog and digital synthesizers, multiple tape echoes and soaring electric guitar, this intended outro to a subsequently abandoned 7” EP became a towering landscape of otherworldly sonics, earning its place as the title track for our latest maxi-single release.”

“With this expansive energy in mind, we knew the eventual music video would similarly have to be something completely new for us, further evolving our imagery and aesthetic into new realms as we make our way towards our imminent third album. Thanks to the masterful VFX and cinematography of our friends Miles Skarin and Alex Pace who also worked on the music videos ‘Inner Paths (to Outer Space)’ and ‘Obliquity of the Ecliptic’, and the ‘Timewave Zero’ live Blu-Ray, respectively  – we are able to present to you the official video for ‘Luminescent Bridge’."

Of the video, director and visual effects artist Miles Skarin says, “When the Stargate Research Society asked us to help visualise a recent extrasolar communication they had received, we knew this would be a project of epic proportion. The data packet they sent to us from Colorado contained footage of Blood Incantation’s interstellar expedition to a distant star system. What we saw after decompressing the video stream blew us away, not only had they captured a beautiful cinematic exploration of the exoplanet’s sand dunes, but we can see their journey across the expanse of space was successful. Alex Pace’s cinematography from this location was stunning and provided us with everything we needed. Due to the solar radiation exposure, the data from the interstellar voyage was difficult to decipher, so we have used our artistic abilities in VFX and 3D animation to reconstruct the visual of crossing the Luminescent Bridge, first depicted by the artist Steve R Dodd."

Watch the epic video for ‘Luminescent Bridge’ here:

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Blood Incantation

Exile on Mainstream – 28th March 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Cutting straight in with a big old guitar chug is a bold and hard-hitting way to open an album. No intro, no preamble, just big, beefy chuggernaut riffery. Bam! I’ve no aversion to a bit of intro a bit of preamble, but it’s refreshing to hit play and be smacked around the chops. The sound – and style – is quintessential grunge, and that grit, that grain, it has a grab that’s more than mere nostalgia, it’s a physical experience. But it very soon becomes apparent that Sons of Alpha Centauri are no generic grunge template rehashers, despite their adept use of the quiet / loud dynamics: ‘Ephemeral’, the opening song, draws in elements of quite blatant prog and classic rock, with melodic vocals and a reflective refrain of ‘Ephemeral… we are ephemeral’ that’s unashamedly prog in its ‘big, deep philosophical contemplations’ approach to lyrics. It’s certainly more ‘Black Hole Sun’ than ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’.

Pitched as a ‘natural evolution’ to predecessor Push, they proffer ‘a powerhouse of searing post hardcore, alternative metal and progressive hazy rock’, where ‘Across the album, Sons of Alpha Centauri capture both a renaissance of the 90s post hardcore of their Sacramento luminaries, and a contemporary take on atmospheric dream-like rock music.’

Across the album’s nine tracks they straddle genre boundaries in a way that feels remarkably natural. Time was that I would be turned off by an album that was heavy instrumentally but not so heavy vocally – meaning I’d have been a bit hesitant about this. But it’s a mistake to perceive clean, melodic vocals as somehow weak or a detraction, as I discovered from listening to The God Machine and Eight Story Window, and Jonah Matranga packs in some emotional integrity into a strong set of songs.

‘Ease’ brings a watery-sounding bass and big, chunky guitar, and the combination makes for an unusual and interesting textural contrast, while the title track rocks particularly hard, the distorted guitar positively buzzing the speakers, Matranga giving a taut, tense performance.

At times I’m reminded of Amplifier, and not only in their incorporation of space themes – only far grungier in their melding of flighty prog and ballsy guitar attack. The chord structures of the aching ‘The Ways We Were’ are reminiscent of Placebo, and while sonically and lyrically there’s no real similarity, something about the dynamics and the heightened tension that defines Pull do warrant comparison, especially the slower, sadder ‘Tetanus Blades’. Sitting in the very middle of the set, it makes for the perfect album structure, and it’s clear that Pull has been created, crafted, curated, as an album rather than just some songs. ‘Doomed’ brings delicacy and introspection, anger and anguish delivered with a downcast sigh and wistful guitars. On ‘Weakening Pulse’ the guitars shudder and shimmer, and there’s a blend of dark aggression and choppy accessibility about ‘Final Voyage’. With its refrain of ‘Regenerate, regenerate, regenerate’ I can’t help but think of Dr Who, but that’s no criticism, and despite the big, bold, ambitious songs and matching production, they manage to steer well clear of going Muse on us.

The songs are pretty concise – mostly sitting around the three-and-a-half to four-and-a-bit minute mark, but have all the hallmarks of bigger, more epic songs. Yes, the vibe is very much rooted in the alternative sound of the 90s, but painted with the broader palette of the twenty-first century, whereby more diverse and eclectic elements have come to be accepted. It seems strange to think in 2024 that back in 1994, rap/rock crossovers were pretty revolutionary, that the soundtrack to Judgement Night was groundbreaking. In time, it came to pass that we discovered more complimentary hybrids, and Pull is a demonstration of this. There’s much detail to absorb and these are very much early impressions – but with so much to assimilate, Pull has everything about it that makes for an enduring album which only digs deeper with repeat listens.

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343 Collective / Broken Soundtracks / Jam Recordings –15th October 2023

The arrived of this album piqued my curiosity for a number of reasons, and one of the first things I felt compelled to do was unravel, or at least understand, the context of the title, since it seems to connote being the music which accompanies a movies. On my journey, I discovered that in film, a score is, at least according to Masterclass.com, ‘the specific musical piece or incidental music that accompanies a scene or moment in the film, and a soundtrack is the compilation of songs and sounds that comprise all of the film’s music. Scores are usually created by one or more composers, while soundtracks typically feature songs by different bands, artists, or musicians.’

But equally, a score is notation, usually in manuscript or printed form, of a musical work, believed to derived from the vertical scoring lines that connect successive related staves.

This album is neither notation nor featured as part of any movie – at least, not one that’s been produced yet.

The ensemble founded by Jon Dawson, and John Bundrick as a side project to Third of Never has expanded considerably, now standing as a six-piece, with this outing features additional contributions from Rabbit (The Who), Steve Kilbey (The Church) and Doug McMillan (The Connells), and was recorded alongside the forthcoming Third of Never album.

They describe the album as ‘a lysergic mood journey of epic proportions’, and advise that it be listened to ‘all at once, in the dark, accompanied by someone you trust, and a lava lamp.’ Well, it being a wet night at the end of September, it’s been dark since before 8pm. I’m alone in my office, and in the absence of a lava lamp, I have a couple of candles lit, and as such, my listening experience and ultimately my review are in the spirit of the album and its intentions – penned in a single sitting, straight through, no pauses, no rewinds, no munching popcorn. Just the quiet sipping of an Islay single malt.

To describe it as ‘epic’ isn’t hyperbole, but a statement of fact: the scope and impact of Original Score is vast. There’s no delicate, slow-building introduction: ‘Attention’ says a voice urgently but dryly, before a sound-collage begins to layer up before our very ears, and that rapidly evolves into a space-age jazz workout with rolling piano and hectic drums driving through fluttering cut-ins and cut-outs, and everything’s happening at once, for a time pinned together by a crunking, choppy bass before ethereal voices float in a chorus of reverb to carry it all away. Done differently, it could be a chaotic disaster, but it’s more Burroughs than Beefheart, and in filmic terms feels like the accompaniment to a three-way-split screen with rapid intersections and scene changes across all three.

Perhaps it’s the power of suggestion, or the potency of the whisky, but Original Score does feels like a very visual audio.

Because of the fact the eleven pieces are segued to form one continuous work, if you’re not actually looking at the CD display, there’s no way of really knowing when one ends and the next begins: because the individual tracks aren’t linear or overtly structured, the transitions between them are seamless.

There are some uplifting, light-hearted passages, and some incredibly dark, almost spooky ones, as haunting voices float hither and thither over wailing guitar feedback, undulating organ notes, and ponderous bass, fractured, treated vocals adding to the unsettling disorientation.

There’s a strongly proggy space-rock vibe, and the quavering keys and strolling bass segments lean heavily towards that seventies sound. I’m not well enough versed to differentiate Yes from King Crimson, but these are the touchstones that spring to mind, melted into Hawkwind wigouts. At times, the images it conjures are of spinning through space, hurtling headlong into the void; others, simply of a band on a massive stage with a drummer and three percussionists, multiple keyboardists with tassled sleeves delivering fifteen-minute solos to a Woodstock-sized crowd, with bearded guys in flares utterly losing their shit. It may be all of this and more, or none of these things when it comes to your own experience.

And this is, undoubtedly, the beauty – and artistic success – of Original Score. It’s the real-time unravelling soundtrack to the movie that you picture in your mind’s eye.

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Former Sound of Contact members Simon Collins and Kelly Nordstrom returned this year with their new band eMolecule and their debut album The Architect which was released in February (InsideOutMusic).

Today the band have shared the video for ‘Prison Planet’ which you can watch here:

The Architect, the debut album from new progressive rock outfit eMolecule (former Sound of Contact members Simon Collins and Kelly Nordstrom) is out now! Their newest visual offering ‘Prison Planet’ is a rebellious anthem that speaks to the struggle of being confined to a system that doesn’t allow for growth. It’s a call to action for those seeking autonomy and true freedom, even within the confines of our current world.

The two long-time collaborators met in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada in 2005 and have been working together ever since. Originally brought together to work on Simon’s solo career, the spark of creativity between Simon and Kelly was undeniable. They soon began writing original material together, much of which would end up on Dimensionaut.

With a successful progressive rock album under their belts, Simon and Kelly were determined to continue the work they started with Sound of Contact. During the UK production of Simon’s 4th solo album Becoming Human, Kelly recorded a demo of the song ‘eMolecule’ in a flurry of inspiration. With this new offering, Simon and Kelly decided their way forward was as a duo and they would pool their best material under the name eMolecule.

In the summer of 2020, eMolecule decided it was time to begin work on their debut album and that it was to be a concept album. Meeting in person at Simon’s studio in Ireland, the duo spent a solid month writing the concept and music start to finish. Over the following months, they completed writing, producing and performing The Architect both remotely and together in Ireland.

The Architect features intense, heavy guitar and drum performances as well as deep, atmospheric and emotionally driven arrangements. From start to finish, eMolecule’s first offering captivates the listener with infectious vocals, dynamic guitars and ultra-modern production from the epic opening track ‘eMolecule’ to the powerful climax of the closing track ‘Moment of Truth’. This band and album are set to take the listener to another dimension.

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Photo: Nick Elliot