Progressive rock and rock music in general are quite popular in Japan. If American or European bands can’t find audience on native ground, often there still is an audience in Japan. However, Japan also produces some good artists and music by itself. A good example is Yuko & Chronoship, an ensemble headed by keyboard player and vocalist Yuko Funakoshi, who surrounds herself with a band consisting of bass player Shun Taguchi, guitarist Takashi Miyazawa and drummer Ikko Tanaka. [acfw id=2]

This album, which will get a successor in 2015, after a succesful crowd funding campaign, consists of three different ‘suites’: Dinosaurs, R is for Rocket and Oxygen.
The first suite consists of 3 tracks. What was there first, the Dinosaur or the Egg? is a short keyboard soundscape, underneath a dino heartbeat, with a short, but fast guitar lead at the end. That is the intro to Dance with the Dinosaurs, which has a slightly jazzy bass line to it,  but clearly puts the keyboards in the lead.

While the dinosaurs dance, there’s a bit of room for guitar and bass to show what they can do – before the guitar ends the track in a true dino roar. After that roar, Ruler of the Earth kicks in, on which Yuka shows she can play piano as well – followed by keyboard, until after a closing chord we are back at the heartbeat that started the suite. A true homage to our distant ancestors.

After this the album looks at the future, R is for Rocket takes us into the era of space travel. Starting in Cutting Gravity with a countdown, the rocket starting up being mimicked by keyboards and heavy guitar, we prepare for a space trip. After launch, the guitar gives a feel of speeding up (Alex Lifeson anyone?), while the drums and bass image the pounding of an engine. When we enter space, things quiet down, and the music becomes more relaxed. The ending is a nice build up, starting with drums, to which bass, guitar and keys are added in sequence.

The story continues in Skygazer, which has a guitar and keyboard intro I noted down as ‘nutty’, and a drum rhythm that invites clapping. The keyboards move into something that could be intro music to a TV series, followed by drums and guitar working together, until the keyboards return in Vangelis style. At the end, the guitar keeps the rhythm, while the keyboard plays a children’s song – every listener should make his own story to this track I guess.

Then An Arrow of Glittering Music seems to bring us back to earth – with the sound of doors and bad speakers, then a a guitar being tuned. After tuning, a finger picked guitar plays a tune that sounds like classical music on a home recording. This grows more modern and moves into professional recording sound, At the end, a helicopter takes us straight into Blue Astronaut Helicopter. A piano joins the helicopter sound, followed by a guitar with a big chorus on it, over a heavy drum and bass beat – making it all sound like electronic dance music. The music takes over the whirring of the helicopter, then moves into a quitter soundscape – a little bit psychedelic rock like. As the beat returns, there’s a little flashback to 80s TV series Blue Thunder, before we switch to the final track of the suite Beyond the Fence, on which Yuka sings a short wordless melody.

The third suite, Oxygen, consists again of three tracks – O, O2 and O3, which are also the three forms of oxygen in nature (atom, oxygen molecule and ozone). Going through these three, we see that O is entered around a fiery guitar and whirling keyboards, clearly mimicking the fact that oxygen atoms try to form molecules when let loose. These molecules are formed in O2, when the slightly sterile chemistry sound of O is replaced by more lively O2,  breathable air. As the keyboard and organ take the stage, Yuka again sings a little bit – in a quite bombastic song that begins and ends more quietly with just piano.

The finale of the suite, and of the album is O3, which brings at first long synth notes and percussion that give the impression of something dripping. Then the rest of the instruments join in full force, to create a wall of sound that only stops for a brief piano interlude. A piano over which Yuka sings in a voice that resembles Kate Bush, quite surprising and surreal. The wall of sound returns, and the whole pattern, including the piano and singing is repeated once more – and then everything comes together. To close it off, keyboards and percussion go back to the ‘dripping’ impression, accompanied by a mellotron choir – until a single dinosaur heartbeat ends the album.

Before reviewing this album, I had only heard the name of the band, never the music. I’m glad I do know them now. Yuka is a great composer and musician, and she has found a band that fits her ideas. I’m looking forward to the next album while enjoying this one.

Glass Hammer have been producing records since 1993, and have always been leaning on 1970’s symphonic rock. There’s a risk in that, in the sense that new material may sound out dated or repetitive, but Glass Hammers seems to work around that by rolling in the necessary jazz (rock) and not letting the keyboards cover everything as happens so often. [acfw id=2]

That, plus the fact that three band members each contribute separate tracks leads to sufficient variation and freshness, to my ears at least. One thing I do notice though – the band has been said to sound like Yes, and that is true in places. The voice of Carl Groves sometimes resembles that of Jon Anderson, and the tracks written by bass player Steve Babb sometimes show a Squire-esque bass presence. That only adds nicely to the mix, I’d say.

The opening track of the album Mythopoeia (written by Babb) is a good example of the above: the guitar and drum opening is indeed an intro to a bass heavy track, with Yes-like vocals, but after about a minute it becomes more jazzy, only to return to the previous mode when the vocals start. The second par of this 3-part song is only acoustic guitar and vocals, and in part three the keyboards finally get a chance to whirl it to an end. Variation and a thought out structure go hand-in-hand there.

Equally (or even more) varied is Third Floor, subtitled A Play in One Act, which is a mini-opera about a relationship between an man and a woman – forming and destruction of it, with the ‘Voice of Reason’ joining in to talk sense into them. Slightly bombastic at first, then heavy on guitar, a sweet melody – even a flute, it’s all there.

The following Babylon is once again a Babb composition, so heavy on bass and keyboards, with nice guitar work in the opening. The keyboards really do play a big role this time though, which makes it stand out nicely against the opening track.

And then A Bird When it Sneezes explains where the jazz influences come from – written by guitarist Kamran Alan Shikoh, it is a really jazzy guitar and keyboard piece. Pity it lasts only 34 seconds, I’d love to hear more of this.

More peace is brought to the listener by Sand, which features a piano, only later on joined by keyboards, drums and a little bit of electric guitar at the end. Carl does sound like Jon here, but I can stand his voice better than Jon’s, so no way is this copy cat work.

Bandwagon is perhaps my second favourite track of the album – it’s jazzy but still rocks, with a strong bass and a slightly ‘hopping’ feel to it. The guitar lead half way makes the song for me, and marks a switch to acoustic guitar, which in the end gives way to whirling keyboards again.

This is followed by Haunted, which is all the title suggests – slow, dark, with melancholic female vocals by Susan Bogdanowicz. The classical guitar in the closing verse complete the feeling.

Northwind then explains why the band is marked as symphonic rock. A bass melody, follow by an organ and a guitar lead – accompanied by great drum accents. The vocals are put over a bass melody and short guitar and keyboard riffs, reminding of early Marillion. There is a lot going on in this one that makes it worth listening without distraction.

But, my favourite track is the closing Nothing, Everything, with a jazzy piano and guitar opening, and then that now familiar pulsing bass again. The vocal parts are 70s symphonic completely, but the instrumentals return to the jazz feel of the intro. Then, the end is full on symphonic, no holding back – a crescendo ending of a great album.

Some things work, some things don’t. Roland Bühlmann is a Swiss guitarist, who released this solo album in 2014, after playing a lot with other musicians, and apparently working on his own material for about 20 years. [acfw id=2]

The result is an instrumental album, where guitars and string instruments play the lead role (next go electric and classical guitar, Bühlmann plays bass and mandola on the album). The accompanying drums are ‘from the can’, taken from loopmasters.com – which shows all to clearly on some of the tracks.

A pity, because Roland’s guitar work is definitely not bad – he is a skilled musician, and knows how to play a good guitar solo or melody. The album contains traces of rock, on the opening track Breakthrough for example (which starts with a massive riff played on a Les Paul), but also jazz and psychedelic influences – Medlilorn for example is just a huge soundscape.

All in all, varied, but at the same time, the fact that it’s all instrumental, canned drums and loads of effects on the guitars also makes this album a long winding experience. I had a hard time hearing it out every time I played it – and quite a few times I simply switched it off well before it ended.

Musically, from technical perspective, this is definitely a good effort, but it lacks feeling and action – although guitar fans might think different.

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.