The Musical Box

No Anderson, Squire or White? No problem. Prog’s great survivors hit a late-career upswing on album number 23.

Words: Sid Smith Illustration: Simon Cooper

Edited by Dave Everley prog.reviews@futurenet.com

With every studio recording, live album or tour announcement, there’s always a faction of fans who will turn up on a corner of the internet waving their ‘No Jon Anderson, No Yes’ banners. Their zeal is only matched by the nearby counterdemonstration shaking their ‘No Peter Banks, No Yes’ placards.

But time and events have moved on and maybe the ‘No Anderson’ contingent should too. In the aftermath of the singer’s unceremonious departure 15 years ago, we’ve since lost Chris Squire and Alan White, a stark reminder, should it be needed, that life is really too short to spend time grinding gears over something we have no control over. Rather than exercising well-worn prejudices and allowing expectations to become selffulfilling prophecies, isn’t it better to approach a new album with an open mind?

If 2021’s The Quest represented a return to some kind of form after the bland torpor of 2014’s Heaven & Earth, Mirror To The Sky feels like another useful step forward in Yes’ apparently never-ending story. There’s a good reason they released Cut From The Stars as a digital single ahead of the album: it has more hooks in it than an angler’s bag. With a cascading string motif; vibrant rays of organ; spiky, undulating bass; bubbling guitars; deadahead drumming and ecstatic skipping vocals, it moves with determined energy and purpose. Setting out the stall of a band that have now been fully rejuvenated with the installation of drummer Jay Schellen, it’s a track that has urgency and power in abundance. Or, to put it another way, it fucking rocks.

Those catchy qualities continue with All Connected – its expansive feel seamlessly unrolls from one section to another, making the musical connectivity work with consummate ease. While taking disparate elements and welding them into something functional and cohesive is pretty much what Yes are best known for, there’s an argument that it’s not been done as elegantly as this for quite some time. If the chorus of Luminosity sounds, at times, like it might have been rejected by the local Christian Fellowship for being too happy-clappy, it’s at least bookended with an engagingly upbeat arrangement. The same cannot be said for the plodding dreariness of Living Out Their Dream, an unimaginative rocker whose by-the-numbers presence here is baffling.

Mirror To The Sky

INSIDEOUT

"Judged on its own merits, it’s the best Yes album in more than 20 years."

That lapse of judgement is mercifully brief and the title track restores momentum. The piece showcases orchestral embellishments by Paul K Joyce, whose work also graced The Quest. Mid-tempo rather than magisterial, it nevertheless works well, with ethereal violin harmonics adding a chilly trail in the wake of Howe’s contemplative fretwork. The guitarist’s soloing throughout the track is especially good. At 75 years old he might have slowed down in comparison to the flash of his youth, but he demonstrates the wisdom of knowing that, in this case, a leaner, cleaner melodicism will serve the song all the better. As principal soloist and producer, Howe is ultimately free to overdub as many guitars onto a track as he sees fit without fear of anyone telling him otherwise, yet here he opts for a restrained approach that benefits the album overall.

Yes’ internecine politics in the past have sometimes reduced the album-making process into a passive-aggressive grudge match, wherein the band are only able to work at the speed of the unhappiest member. By contrast, this line-up has publicly stated that the spirit of cooperation and mutual support evident during The Quest has continued to flourish. Though it’s hard to objectively quantify, there’s a sense that everyone being on the same page has brought optimism and coherence to the music. Jon Davison’s charming ballad Circles Of Time, which gently closes the album, though delicate on the surface, comes with a real inner strength that’s due to the simplicity of its arrangement and uncluttered sureness of its production.

As with The Quest, this album also comes with a three-track bonus disc. The best of these is the middling Unknown Place. With its Hammond organ wig-out and solo cowbell section it seems designed to provide some clap-along crowd participation when Yes next get back on the road.

The long tail of Yes’ inventiveness during the 1970s burns so intensely to this day that it’s inevitable that the current band will likely always be judged against those past glories. While Mirror To The Sky doesn’t scale those early innovative heights and is unlikely to change the musical weather in the way the band once did, when judged on its own merits, this is a set that stands as the best Yes album in more than 20 years. Maybe it’s time to put down the placards and listen.

LARS FREDRIK FRØISLIE

Fire Fortellinger KARISMA

Retro prog nirvana from Wobbler’s piano man.

When it comes to the noble art of plundering prog’s past, Lars Fredrik Frøislie has already made a sizable contribution. Best known as keyboard player with Norwegian mavericks Wobbler, he’s also leant his not inconsiderable talents to music by Tusmørke and White Willow and pulled off a smart hybrid of prog and black metal with his own In Lingua Morta project. His first solo album, Fire Fortellinger, puts his multitudinous, militantly analogue approach to tickling the ivories centre-stage.

"A whirlwind of ideas and freewheeling keyboardsolos."

Recorded as a means to keep creative during gaps in Wobbler’s schedule, this is very much a solo project, with Frøislie playing everything except the bass guitar (which is deftly handled by Elephant9’s Nikolai Hængsle). Sung in his native tongue and primarily based around surreal but evocative tales from Norse mythology, Fire Fortellinger is awash with fusty old organ tones, spiralling Minimoogs, sparkly harpsichord and surging Mellotron.

The opening Rytter Av Dommedag begins with a simple melodic theme, and then spreads out in all directions over a satisfying 17 minutes. Much of the record was captured in one take and without using click tracks, and there’s a definite seat-of-the-pants urgency to its heavier moments. But the overwhelming impression is of stumbling upon a long-lost prog epic from a long time ago. It certainly helps that the lyrics tell the story from doomsday legend Ragnarök: when the mythical King Rakne wakes up in his burial mound and conspires to cause “real mischief” in cahoots with the ancient gods. Frøislie is a fizzing whirlwind of ideas and, perhaps most significantly, fluid and freewheeling keyboard solos, and Rytter Av Dommedag encapsulates his approach in the most indulgent and pleasing way.

The remainder of Fire Fortellinger is equally thrilling. Both Et Sted Under Himmelhvelvet and Jærtegn offer a succinct snapshot of Frøislie’s songwriting sensibilities and his gently unique blend of arcane prog and psychedelic influences. The closing Naturens Katedral is the jewel in this leafy, brown-toned crown, however. Another 17-minute epic, it’s dedicated to the icy splendour of a Norwegian winter and is every bit as vivid and richly detailed as it needs to be. At the seven-minute mark, it dissolves to a tense hush and steadily builds toward a thrilling crescendo, before dropping to nearsilence for a pretty harpsichord vignette. At this point, all hell breaks loose as Frøislie floors the accelerator for a burst of ragged space rock and a menacing, lysergic meander to the finish line. All in all, this is an assured and imaginative first solo effort.

DOM LAWSON

ANCHOR AND BURDEN

Kosmonautik Pilgrimage MOONJUNE

Engrossing jazz metal explorations.

Thefirst thing that leaps out about this release from the Berlin-based quartet is the striking cover art, which resembles a scene that might coalesce from oil paintdripped into water by Hieronymus Bosch and Salvador Dalí. The artwork perfectly mirrors the music, an interesting blend of avant-garde jazz, prog metal and electronic soundscapes.

Markus Reuter and Alexander Dowerk, together with keyboardist Bernhard Wöstheinrich and drummer Asaf Sirkis, are the men behind the sound, with Reuter and Dowerk notable as masters of the touch guitar – an instrument that’s neither strummed nor plucked, but tapped with both hands, and which provides an impressive tonal range.

Those with a liking for experimental music will appreciate adventurous tracks such as Cerebral Transfixations, a fluttering, crashing journey of tense guitars shooting through a cloud of electronics and percussion. There’s always considerable thought and skill behind the apparent madness, until the last seconds of album closer Crown Hive fade ominously, leaving the listener thoroughly shaken and with their mind appropriately blown.

C W

ARCANICA

Elemental ARCANICA.BANDCAMP.COM

Dark cosmic prog metal delights from the Philadelphian quintet.

Progressive metal has continuously evolved over the last 40 years, so it’s often difficult for newer bands to find their own sound. That’s why ArcAnica’s latest EP, Elemental, is noteworthy, as they blend influences such as Leprous, Haken and early Black Sabbath into a fairly fresh and rewarding collection.

Opener The Flood demonstrates this wonderfully, with its impassioned singing, chaotic instrumentation, and apocalyptic lyricism conveying plenty of urgency and quirkiness. Although the remaining three tracks don’t deviate very much from that formula, each of them offers a few special qualities. The initially peaceful Against The Wind, for example, incorporates traces of sludge rock and psychedelic rock as it becomes increasingly feisty and complex. Black Fire’s emphasis on playful acoustic guitar arpeggios and ever-changing tempos reveals more of the group’s multifaceted artistry, too, as do the melodic, Dear Hunter-esque verses and rhythms of closer The Fool’s Garden. ArcAnica even throw in a variety of vocal growls along the way, strengthening their ability to blend soothing and aggressive arrangements in engaging ways.