Young, Canadian and vitally alive with the tremendous, timeless spirit of late 60's baroque pop, Tнε Hεαvy Bliиkεяs are an indie bunch with a fine ear for orchestrations and harmony, making things tick like fine clockwork toward a certain confectionery perfection...an ambition brought to fruition in 2004's Tнε Nigнτ Aиd I Aяε Sτill So Yoυиg.
Distinctive in many fashions but cut from the same glorious genetic cloth as outfits such as The Zombies, Todd Rundgren and The Association, I can only hope these guys continue to bless this ADD-riddled musical world with more timeless melody as the years roll on, and I don't think I'm the only one who'd like that either!
Although their original vocalist Fish jumped ship in '88 to many a disgruntled art-rock fan's dismay, neo-prog. progenitors Mαяillioи came back stronger than ever with the magnificent Sεαsons End in 1989...and on top of that, they did so with a brand new vocalist named Stεvε Hogαrth..a man who was a polar opposite to Fish in every way imagineable, yet just as talented and powerful behind the mic.
Although not a perfect album by any means, there are several cuts here ('The King Of Sunset Town', 'Easter', 'Berlin' and the title track) which should be considered essential to any fan of melodic progressive rock, and the rest ain't half bad either. The first of those four develops gorgeously over its 8-minute span, given resonance thanks to the incredible synth work throughout and a killer hook to boot, while the folkish anthem 'Easter' boasts the band's single best guitar solo of the 90's and a two minute mantra of an outro that immortalizes the song as a classic with unbelievable ease. 'Berlin', meanwhile, features some sweltering sax on it's melody line and the title track tells a downtempo, atmosphere-laden tale of a changing environment and what may come in time.
Although this excellent band as many a great record to its name, Sεαsons End is a late 80's classic and the ideal introduction to the amazing voice of Stεvε Hogαrth, making it a class addition to any collection.
Dreadful, droning dream-hazed doom metal brought to sonic eminence through dissonances unbound and the lonely, graven echoes of an acoustic guitar abandoned in the wastes. A soul could cry to this.
One of the most underrated power-trios in all of pop-rock canon, Tнε Oυτfiεlδ have been putting out record after record of addictive, prog-tinged power pop since 1985 in some form or another, led by the sky high tenor of Tony Lewis, a fellow whose range and delivery falls in some magical realm between Sting, Jon Anderson of Yes and Todd Rundgren.
With 2011's comeback record Rεplαy living up to it's namesake long after other AOTYs have fallen through the daily grind, I'm inclined to believe they've never been better as a band in hookcrafting and performance than they are today.
Two cuts in particular, the monstrously anthemic 'California Sun' and the smooth as silk 'A Long, Long Time Ago' have actually charted regionally here in the U.S., and they're quite epidemic in and of themselves. However, this is a very strong record overall - twelve tracks and not one dud among them, with variety being expoused through a few numbers like the reggae-hazed groove of 'New York City' and the balladeering 'Sandman'.
Consistent to a fault and crunchy in all the right places, you might have to double check your speakers to make sure they aren't glistening too much after a couple runs through this sucker.
An excellent, unique and rather unconventional debut by progressive Celt rockers Ioиα, and probably my favorite record by the band overall. Neo-proggier in some ways than what would come later, the Clannad influences are more heavily tempered and reigned in by complicated and at times breathtaking instrumental interplay, particularly on numbers like 'A'Machair' and the 8-minute 'Trilogy'. Although not quite everyone's drink of choice (as is the case with many musical hybridists), I guess when you have someone as amazing as Joanne Hogg at the mic they could be doing half-assed polka-punk folk and still sound like a million bucks.
Oh, and it's got that "fresh out of the late 80's" production I love so much too, which makes the deal even sweeter from an atmosphere enthusiasts's point of view.
Of the immensely imporessive progressive rock projects that maestro Dan Britton has helmed or been instrumental in bringing about (Birds & Buildings, Deluge Grander, etc.), I can say without a doubt that All Ovεя Evεrywhεяε is perhaps the most beautiful of his involvements. Orchestral meandering? Check. Gorgeous female vocals? Check. Psychedelic folk blended with Mellotron drenched shoegaze rapture? You bet your goddamn ass-check!
Eight wondrous pieces through and through, a record that grows more and more beautifully fragmented and immersive as you work your mind and senses about it's sonic contours, and an exquisite masterpiece in modern progressive rock. Get it!
A top-notch melodic death metal band who have, slowly but surely, transformed into an eclectic and more diverse group with the passing of years, Iи Flαмεs turned many a head last year with 10th studio outing Sounds Of A Plαygяound Fαding, and I'd say it was well worth the three year wait for many a metalhead.
Although their first record without founding guitarist Jesper Stromblad in tow, the songwriting and performances don't suffer even a smidgen from what fans and newcomers alike would expect. Immaculate slices of fun like the labyrinthine thrasher 'A New Dawn' and more mid-tempo stompers along the lines of 'Ropes' and the electroclash'd 'Deliver Us' rattle and blaze in throat-curling glory, balancing edge and accessibility in a way that few bands in this vein can do.
My verdict: Catchier than the measles (although cleaner than past releases), cunningly complicated, entertaining and polished to a fault. Recommended in large doses at loud volume!
Known as "The Man With The Golden Throat" (coined by Herbie Hancock) in all circles smooth, jazzy and soulful, Virgin Islands native Joи Luciεи is one of soul music's untouchable cult classics and the mastermind behind a number of flawless records from the 70's and beyond. Although sonically something of a spiritual contemporary to jazzy folk-mystics like Terry Callier, his musical tapestry incorporated everything from free jazz to folk to bossa nova to Afro-Cuban traditional, all of which is sewn into phantasmagorical ear candy through his soul capturing tenor.
Anyone seeking a spiritual experience should pick this sucker up PRONTO, lest forever hold your peace and miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime.
More often than not, I find that words fail me when it comes to a group like Dεαd Cαи Dαиcε. Their two-decade long discography explored, from perfect record to perfect record, the recesses of atmospheric post-punk, world music, New Age and an unbelievably cinematic grasp on the whole neoclassicism spectrum of musical indulgences. Before veterans like Peter Gabriel and Paul Simon jumped on the African pygmy-chant bandwagon and unleashed the savage jungle into contemporary Top-40 territory, this illustrious duo were cutting 3rd World masterpieces with a feudal edge that took even scenesters by surprise.
But, I digress. If one had to pluck but a single record from DCD's divinely inspired catalogue to get a newbie's ears wet in the ethereal woodwork, then 1987's Wiτнin Tнε Rεαlm Of A Dying Sun is the place to start. Not only are these songs some of the best crafted in a career long-canon, but with Side A being dominated by the grave croon of Brendan Perry and Side B an ideal slice of the heavenly pipes of Lisa Gerrard, the listener gets to experience both sides of Dεαd Cαи Dαиcε's musical cerebrum and...hell, maybe even reach enlightenment through doing so.
Like a narcotic you just can't quite get out of your system, this record casts a long, haunted shadow over your mind...and I'm more than happy to let it envelop me when I least expect it.
In the music industry, it is simply a given that good things are never meant to last very long. Groups break up, ideas don't hold together like they should in studio, and record labels consistently and without exception never bother to promote music which actually deserves to be heard....all of which seemed to be the case from this excellent progressive pop collaboration between Genesis keyboardist Tony Banks and vocalist Jack Hues of experimental 80's New Wave band Wang Chung. 1995, evidently, was the worst year one could have picked to release a record that would have sounded cutting edge only six years earlier.
Rhythmically creative, rich in sonic contour and in many ways a rock solid competitor to the pop sensibilities of prior art-rock hotcakes such as Genesis's Invisible Touch, Peter Gabriel's So and Yes's Talk, this unusual creature known as Sτяicτly Iиc. loosely follows a series of degenerates, from a psychopath who drives an ice cream truck for a living to a girl with multiple personalities, and gives their tales life and color through a series of punchy art-pop ditties...atleast up until the 17 minute closer 'An Island In The Darkness', an orchestrated send-up to human struggle and insecurity itself that stands as one of the 90's best progressive rock suites no matter how you cut it.
Progressive rock and synthesized coked-up keyboard pop don't normally breed in a way that people can get into on a regular basis, but this record proves such a union can result in something wonderful when every element is where it needs to be.
Much to many a metalhead's delight, one of the 90's best thrash acts returned like a bloody hellstorm last year with death and vengeance upon their teeth in the form of Dysτopiα, and in this mere blogger's opinion it was one of those triumphant comebacks which could have easily made my Top 11, but didn't due to how things ended up being ordered.
Along with boasting some of the nicest balance production-wise I've heard from any metal act this side of Grand Magus, this is also Icεd Eαяτн's most melodic record I think anyone will have the pleasure of hearing since their explosive career beginnings: in particular, the galloping 'Iron Will' and soon-to-be metal classic title track hit you like a bullet train from the first spin onward, and even the more paced-out tickers ('Dark City', 'Anguish Of Youth') are pure dynamic pleasures in and of themselves. And if that's not the mark of a fine modern metal record, I don't know what is.
Both a solo record and something of a musical continuation of a particular songwriting ideal, this wicked good release by guitarist/producer/engineer/songwriter Jαy Gяαydoи epitomizes the synth-guitar dominated style of Westcoast pop that came to prominence through the work of groups like Toto, DaBarge and guys like Al Jarreau. Still, times change and musical trends shift like tectonic plates: in light of that, this album in many ways felt like a farewell salute to a dying style when it originally hit shelves back in '93, and to this day remains a stunning example in the context of its style.
Although almost entirely programmed through synths, keyboards and drum machines (bar the excellent axework), there are some songs here which rank among the best you'd hear from an L.A. pop record, with my personal favorites being the bouncy Sherwood Ball fronted cuts ('Holdin' On To Love', 'One Way Or Another') and some of jazz vocal god Bill Cantos's best vocal performances in this particular genre with the snowbound sounding 'I Do' and the gorgeous key drivin' 'Ever After Love'. But these are merely personal gravitations in an entire set of strong songs: when taken as a whole, this is the best hi-tech Westcoast record ever put to posterity.
The sheer depth of positivity in these sonic fragements may be too sugary for some appetites, but the songwriting itself is atmospheric enough to where even the most insipid sounding sentiment doesn't really matter when you think about it. Thus, take things with a grain of salt and get lost in the haze of an era that'll probably never come back.
Poppier than any of Doom/Alt. rock outfit's Aиατнεмα's doom heralding LPs up until that point, the transitory Judgement retains enough morbidity and atrophic edge to satiate their Gothic consumer base whilst managing to sneak in numerous memorable moments [dare I say it, "radio friendly"] below the studio-induced haze (mid-tempo heartbeater 'Deep' and soot-laden anthem 'Pitiless' being my elected representatives in court at the moment).
Moody this is, but weaksauce it ain't, and it should serve as a lovely springboard for anyone with even the slightest remote interest in output by the brothers Cavanaugh.
