When I was in high school, I always looked at the aspiring musicians in my school (some got quite far with their aspirations too) as if they were some sort of mystics. They always had this sense of being untouchable, impossible to understand around them. That feeling disappeared over time, as I kept in touch with some of them, and it turned out that they were just moving into the same musical areas where I ended up (albeit I started as a listener and became a player only much later). End of 2014, in the chatroom of House of Prog, I ran into Hamlet, the man behind Transport Aerian, and that old feeling returned. This man seemed to be very intelligent, open for communication, but also somehow distant, almost unapproachable. Now, half a year later, I know that the latter is not true, Hamlet is indeed intelligent, but certainly open for communications. However, unlike my old school mates, he is much less moving into the mainstream (or mainstream prog) direction than many others.

When I started reviewing his new album Darkblue, I was thinking of writing a double review for that album and the live album Love.Blood.Live, which preceded it last year. That wouldn’t do justice to Darkblue however, because this is vastly different from Transport Aerian’s earlier work. Where, as Hamlet wrote in his blog himself, Bleeding (studio album) and Love.Blood.Live are more song oriented, Darkblue is a surrealistic movie expressed in music and the visuals of the accompanying artwork. To that will, as plans are being announced now, the visuals of a live performance will be added later.

This album for sure is what the title suggest, dark, but not pitch black (although Jim Morrison’s work with The Doors is almost white compared to this). The music is haunting and minimalistic (Sand Horizon), experimental at times (Black), leaning towards industrial in places (Full Body Access, ), while building almost psychedelic soundscapes in others (Epitaph) – and then there is something close to hard rock or metal as well (Crossbreed).

The lyrics, spoken and sung by Hamlet and his accomplice for this album Rachel Bauer (also responsible for the mystic photos in the album booklet) tell a story of, in Hamlets own words ‘exile, self-isolation and love’ – in a dialog between two people.  As explained on the Transport Aerian blog, this “is the one-piece musical diary that tells the surreal love story, which is being recited throughout the album’s temporal and spatial space from the face of two main characters”. A concept that makes it nearly impossible to do a track by track review. In all honesty, I see no point in listening to individual tracks anyway – this is indeed a single piece of music. Thus, I’ll hold back on that and just recommend anyone who’s in for something non-conformist, experimental and as true to art as art can be, to give this album a try and experience for themselves what Hamlet felt when writing this music, and what Rachel Bauer and him made out of that when recording.

I really hope I’ll be able to catch a live performance of this album, if only to see if my own visualisations match those of the artists. Hamlet announced working on the scenario for a live performance as I write this, so perhaps see you there, dear reader?

It’s months ago that I promised Leo Koperdraat (keyboard, guitar, vocals) to review the album Garden of Ghosts, which he released together with Ed van Haagen (bass and keyboards) and Frank Urbaniak (drums and lyrics). The second album of this trio, and I must admit that up to this day I have not had the chance (or, to be more honest, time) to listen to their debut, Strange Attractions. Maybe I should, given what I found on this one…

Fractal Mirror consider their music (as written on their web site) to be contemporary pop/rock with progressive rock influences. This shows in the way the songs are structured, there’s a bit more of chorus and verse structuring then on the albums I usually review, but a bit of variation in the musical diet usually doesn’t hurt. Certainly not in this case, when the progressive rock influences are coming from the corner that was once monikered symphonic rock. Or, in short, there’s a lot of keyboard work on this album. Not really a surprise, given that both Dutchmen, Koperdraat and Van Haagen play keyboards, next to the other instruments they handle.

This means that on just about all tracks, from the opening House of Wishes all the way to Stars, we are treated to layers of keyboard, synthesizer and mellotron melodies. Sometimes they simply form the main structure of the song, sometimes they are the accompaniment of the guitar. A guitar that is not always played by Leo Koperdraat by the way, on some tracks, for example Lost in the Clouds, producer and musician Brett Kull plays (slide) guitar.

So what does that mean in detail? Well, the album opens with House of Wishes, which has a an eighties synth pop feel to it, but with more intricate keyboard work. The singing of Leo Koperdraat reminds me slightly of Steve Kilby, singer of eighties Australian pop band The Church. 

This is followed by the slightly more complex The Phoenix. A heavier opening is followed by more keyboard work, like on the opening track, but this track goes through different moods and tempos. Just in time for me, it becomes a bit more powerful near the end: despite the beautiful keyboard structures, the album lacks a bit of power for me.

On Lost in the Cloud, which starts in the same tempo as the first two tracks, the additional slide guitar adds a more rocky edge. This track is also the opening of the Powerless Suite, which covers four tracks from the album – dealing with social media, human communications and what would happen if we became ‘really powerless’. An interesting theme, laid down very well in the music here.

Solar Flare the second part of the suite, is largely instrumental, with the band’s friend and video artist Andre de Boer on triangle. The combination of organ (a Hammond?) and guitar work out really well here, mimicking the power of a solar flare for sure.

The Hive portrays what happens when the power goes down, taking us through the emotions of the now disconnected people. The keyboards and a quite sharp guitar part mimic the despair of the narrator having to communicate in the natural way again. That same guitar takes a lead role in the short instrumental Solar Flare Reprise.

After the suite, it is time for a short change in atmosphere and instrumentation. The Garden is build around piano and acoustic guitar, giving it a completely different feel than the rest of the album. A rather melancholic track about aging.

Orbital View builds layers of keyboard melodies again, which lead to a somewhat gloomy sound when combined with drums and guitars. Here Leo Koperdraat also sings in a slightly different way (higher pitched) than on the rest of the album.

Event Horizon is another good keyboard based track, about forgetting about the future when loosing someone. This nicely complements  Legacy, which is about the feeling of parents when their children leave ‘the nest’.

Closing off the album is Stars, which is dedicated by the band to all those they have lost. A beautiful track, opening with acoustic guitar and a real choir (no mellotron this time) followed by a bass hook that keeps you wondering how to explain it. The song builds up an becomes less dependent on that bass hook later on – and provides some great instrumentals.

Based on reviews of the debut, the band has improved quite a bit – and although this album is good, I hope the announced two volume album for 2016 shows more improvement. For that I see two ways, after listening to this album. First, I hope to find slightly more emotion in the vocals (Leo is a bit lacking there, which doesn’t do justice to the nice timbre he has). Second, maybe a few more instrumental parts – the melodies and compositions are so good that sometimes the vocals could be omitted without loosing the story. A story which is otherwise well covered by the lyrics of drummer and lyricist Frank Urbaniak.

So, it took me a while get around to reviewing this album, but now it’s done. Playing it is more than worth the time of anyone who likes symphonic rock and related music. Curious to things to come, with a promise of two volumes of music next year the band suddenly have raised the bar for themselves.

If you know The Flower Kings, you also know Hasse Fröberg. A fine hard rock singer and guitarist in the 80s, the man ended up in one of the biggest progressive rock acts of the 21st century – and together with four equally skilled musicians, he even has found the time to release a new (by now the third one) album under the name Hasse Fröbergs Musical Companion.

An album with a slightly uninspired title (HFMC), but after listening to it on and off for 6 weeks, I can only conclude that the inspiration has instead gone into the music. Music that is introduced by a ticking clock on Seconds, which is soon replaced by a short keyboard piece by Kjell Haraldsson that flows seamlessly into the whirling keyboard and guitar opening of Can’t Stop the Clock. This is the first real song on the album and it starts full of energy, reminding of Images & Words era Dream Theater and 2015 Franck Carducci at the same time. This track is varied in style, as well as in tempo and key (which the band already announced on their web site when it was released as a preview video. It contains metal and hard rock, but also mellower parts – in short, it rocks.

Less varied, and totally different is the the follow up Everything Can Change, which has a jazzy feel to it in various places, when the piano is the lead instrument, but in other places it also feels like a 60s rock song with synths and guitar added to make it more complex. On this one, Hasse Fröberg’s slightly hoarse voice really works very well.

With Pages, we move into longer songs, over 10 minutes. The opening is a quick crescendo of guitar and keyboards, followed by a more melodic keyboard piece. In a way, the music reminds of Yes, and later on also Genesis, but never too strongly. The vocals of Hasse remind me of a more emotional version of Grobschnitt’s Wildschwein. The highlight of this song is a guitar solo by Anton Linsjö, which I put in my review notes as “it’s not Gilmour, it’s not Stolt, it’s that guy from HFMC’. After this solo, a well done vocal part (with piano and acoustic guitar) leads into an outro that is as bombastic as the intro. Circle closed.

With Genius, a more ballad like track, the listener gets some rest before moving into the net long track, In the Warmth of the Evening. A varied track, like Can’t Stop the Clock, but 4 minutes longer and without the strong metal influences – although in the second half the keys become really bombastic, before a closing guitar solo with a lot of feeling in it – like some great blues guitarists also could, but here no blues is involved.

On Something Worth Dying For, the band moves slightly into Hasse’s past as a hard rock musician. This one has guitar leads, and riffs accompanied by a strong drum work (lots of cymbals too) by drummer Ola Strandberg, and matching bass work by Thomas Thomsson.

The last track of the album Someone Else’s Fault brings us back to the world of symphonic rock, with vocal choirs and keyboards that remind of Yes and Genesis. But when Hasse sings alone, over a dancing keyboard tune, it becomes almost soulful, something Jon Anderson never did. Half way, the music changes into bluesy hard rock, with yet another very well executed guitar solo – before going back to symphonic land at the end. I put the words ‘soulful‘, ‘bluesy hardrock‘ and ‘Yes’ in my review notes – only to find out later that apparently Hasse Fröberg described this track as a mix between Yes, Stevie Wonder and AC/DC. Well – I guess he got that more or less right.

After this, all that remains is the ticking of a clock, on Minutes, which makes the album go full circle. And full circle it may go – as some other albums that I reviewed, I have no problem putting this one on repeat. In the second half of 2015, the band will be playing gigs in various countries, and I already spotted my chance to see them in The Netherlands. Get your chance as well, or just get the album, or do both… you catch my drift.

Imagine an album being recorded in 1985, and being released only 25 years later, in 2010. Sounds crazy? Well, this is exactly what happened with BunChakeze album Whose Dream?. The four people involved were Odin of London members Colin Tench (guitar,   synthesizer and vocals), Gary Derrick (bass), Cliff Deighton (drums) and Joey Lugassy (vocals). The former three founded the band, helped build a studio in exchange for recording time and then hired the Lugassy to fill in the role of the until then missing vocalist. Studio owner Alex Foulcer fulfilled a guest role on piano.

After recording the album, the four disbanded. In 1992, they the album was remixed, but only in 2010, Colin Tench took the lead in releasing the album on CD, encouraged by Pasi Koivu, with whom he later founded Corvus Stone.

The album contains 9 tracks, which clearly show how these four men were influenced by late 1960s and early 1970s progressive rock . Music that was wanting air play and certainly of no commercial interest at the time of recording. However, times have changed again in the mean time, and this album is no misfit in the 21st century  revival of progressive rock.

The opening track BunChakeze is an energetic, short instrumental with ‘swirling’ keyboards and matching guitar, to warm up for the rest of the album. Once this is done, the band slows down for the first part of title track Whose Dream? Keyboard and piano guide the fitting rock voice of Lugassy, in what sounds like a melancholic ballad until the guitar and drums come in to make it into a more powerful, almost marching track. The circle closes when we go back to the first line of the intro, which is also the last of the song, once again only accompanied by the piano: Whose dream are you dreaming?

Walk on Paradise then is a more guitar oriented track, although the synthesizer is quite present in the opening. Initially, this doesn’t feel like paradise music at all – but when the rhythm becomes more stable and prominent, the feel becomes more positive. Briefly only though, the instrumental midsection removes the happiness again – in line with the lyrics (‘I am a prisoner who lives alone, chains hanging from the walls‘). After a quite heavy guitar solo the song takes a more melodramatic turn, in music as well as lyrics, as the main character is looking for a way out.

After this, the album gets to what I think are its four best tracks, starting with Handful of Rice. The music is carried by a staccato guitar riff (by some referred to as latin or hispanic, but I don’t fully see that reference). This is haunting in a way, especially in the mid section where it is accompanied by a droning synth and metallic sounding drums. Near the end the track speeds up a bit, maybe signifying new hope? New hope that certainly belongs in the next track, Flight of the Phoenix, after all, a phoenix always rises from the ashes in which it perishes. This is a track that opens with wonderfully played acoustic guitar, accompanying a well performed vocal melody. It’s not a happy tune, matching the darkness of the lyrics. Halfway, the electric guitar comes in and the song becomes melancholic. After a nice, melodic guitar solo, the music speeds up and when the phoenix rises, the ‘Clock stops!‘ and so does the music.

After this, the band takes us to 19th century North America, with Midnight Skies, telling us about how the young United States dealt with the natives. On this track, which starts out with almost jazzy guitar and bass, the 1970s influences of the band really show. While the bass and guitar build a rhythm, the keyboards go into Genesis like patterns, and a Pink Floyd resembling guitar solo follows. All of this build up to the request to let the native Americans take back the prairies and run free under midnight skies….

With Long Distance Runner, the direction changes once again. With two vocals (both by Lugassy as far as I can tell), singing a sort of dialog, this track starts with a musical like feel. After this it speeds up gradually and a slightly staccato guitar seems to imply the runner is really running. The drums on this track are not continuous, in various places only fills and breaks are played, which really gives an unusual effect to the music. At the end, the piano comes in for a bit more. What keeps me wondering about this one is the question whether the line in the lyrics ‘A Cinderella Boy becomes a Marathon Man‘ is a reference to Rush: they have Cinderella Man and released Power Windows including Marathon while BunChakeze were recording.

And then – it is time for The Deal, yet again a track in which the 1970s influences return. There is a guitar riff underneath this whole track that is so close to something (go hear for yourself) on Pink Floyd’s The Wall that coincidence is impossible. It’s not a rip off though, the track works perfectly by itself, and it may be the easiest one to get into on first listen. After this, all that’s left is dessert, a short instrumental reprise  of Whose Dream, which is mainly a slightly folky electric guitar tune.

I got this album almost 5 years after it was released, after missing it completely in 201o – and I’m happy to have it now. It’s by no means perfect, certainly production wise a few things could be improved (hollow vocals here and there, slightly sharp drums), but given its history that is something I can live with. I really like the last four tracks (not including the far from bad Whose Dream reprise), even if they are not as original in style in 2010 or 2015 than they were in 1985 I guess. Recommended for checking out for sure – and added to the regular plays a while ago over here.

Where the 1970s were an era of classic prog bands, the 1990s of prog metal bands, it seems  the 2010s are the time of the one man projects that may or may nog grow in to bands. Last week I posted a review for Oliver Rüsing’s Karibow, earlier I also had a review for Marco Ragni’s Mother of the Sun, and (Robin) Taylor’s Universe. now it’s time for Steam Theory, a one man project of multi-instrumentalist Jason Denkevitz. Meanwhile, the list of pending reviews has a few additional ones (Tiger Moth Tales, which is Peter Jones) and Kalle Vilpuu’s Silver Ligning to name two).

In case of Steam Theory, we are talking about a one man project, as said by Jason Denkevitz, who released his first album in 2010. On that album (Enduring Delirium), and 2012’s Helios Rider, some drummers and a keyboard player were playing their part – on the new album Denkevitz played all instruments himself. In the mean time, he has assembled a four-piece band though, to take the material to live performances.

On this album, which lasts almost 90 minutes, we are treated to 13 tracks, 3 of which are over 9 minutes long. The music of Steam Theory is described on the band’s web site as ‘Attempting to fuse several genres together, the goal was to maintain a priority on strong themes and melodies’. In that, Denkevitz has surely succeeded. Just looking at the notes I took while listening to the album, I come across the words ‘classic prog’, ‘movie sound track’, ‘prog metal’, ‘jazz rock’, ‘classical orchestration’ and even ‘psychedelic or space rock’ at various points. That, combined with the length of some of the tracks and the album itself, shows the strength as well as the weakness of this album: the music is heavily orchestrated, arranged in a non-trivial manner and very diverse. That makes it challenging and interesting to listen too, but also at some point almost impossible to grasp and to stay focused on. But I managed, and if I can do it, there must be more people who can.

So, what do we find on this album? From the opening, it is clear that orchestration, in an almost cinematographic way is an important piece of the music. Not a surprise for those who have read the announcement of the album, and certainly not bad. The first track, title track Asunder, starts like that, and gradually moves more into a rock feel, until exactly half way a visit is paid to jazz rock country, with a fretless bass and a shifting drum pattern as our guide. After this, the track goes off in an almost space rock direction.

The rest of the album shows more of the same heavy, sound track like orchestration, but still every track has it’s own merits. Adrift, which starts with an acoustic guitar with a mediterranean ring to it, later develops into a rockier piece with a guitar lead that borders on metal, and an instrumental part that is almost a classical orchestra. In a similar vein are the tracks Toys, Intar and Escape Velocity. The latter is a lot heavier than the former though – more metal like.

Completely different then those are Fireflies – which could be inspired by either one of the well known pieces The Typewriter, In the Hall of the Mountain King or Sting of the Bumblebee – and Shyft, which is a weird kind of Kraftwerk meets metal. Then, different again, is No Such Thing, which starts with a heavy, low, bass intro and builds up to a piece in which heavy rock and an orchestra compete for the lead. Heavy rock wins, with a biting guitar solo at the end.

The end of the album is marked by the 11 minute Saga, a true movie sound track, that is like a roller coaster ride. To difficult to explain, has to be experienced. Only thing left after this ride is Rejoinder, which indeed rejoins the listener with real life. An acoustic guitar and a (synth?) cello lead us back to reality in a calming way.

An interesting ride, that kept me busy for a while. I admire people like Jason Denkevitz for being able to play all instruments on albums like this. It is always clear though which is their main instrument, the acoustic and electric guitar playing are what makes most of the tracks really shine – even if, according to the liner notes, the main focus was on orchestration. For those who are into complex music (and most prog fans are) this is a recommended roller coaster ride, but be aware that it should be consumed in pieces, or on a long evening alone.