New spins…

Prog metal visionaries rise above loss and grief to deliver an emotional yet dazzling comeback album.

Words: David West

Illustration: Jonathan Edwards

Edited by Dave Everley prog.reviews@futurenet.com

The arrival of a new, full-length album from Cynic should be a cause for unreserved celebration, yet Ascension Codes emerges from under a cloud of tragedy. While drummer and co-founder Sean Reinert left the band in 2015, his death in January 2020 was keenly felt by his former bandmates and fans alike. Less than a year later, the passing of bassist Sean Malone in December 2020 was a second heartbreaking loss for the Cynic camp.

Guitarist and vocalist Paul Masvidal described his reaction to the news as feeling like he was sinking in quicksand. “I was unable to play my guitar for weeks, and found myself expending whatever energy I had cleaning and organising my home. Grief is the most powerful experience; it wipes everything else away,” he wrote on Instagram.

That sense of loss and mourning precedes the release of Ascension Codes, and the album is being pitched as “both swan song and rebirth”. It’s only the group’s fourth full-length recording since 1993’s debut Focus and comes seven years after Kindly Bent To Free Us, which, combined with the loss of Reinert and Malone, heaps a considerable weight of expectation onto the record. Masvidal is joined in the studio by drummer Matt Lynch – who took over from Reinert in 2015 but whose only recorded contribution up to this point has been the 2018 single Humanoid – and Dave Mackay on keys and bass synthesiser. It’s interesting that Mackay doesn’t play a conventional electric bass on the album and the overall sound is certainly a step away from Kindly Bent To Free Us.

Ascension Codes

SEASON OF MIST

“The exuberance of the playing is in contrast to the melancholic vibe.”

Where Kindly… had a generally organic sound that suggested three musicians playing together, Ascension Codes is a much denser, more overtly produced listen. Masvidal has previously employed a vocoder to alter his voice on earlier albums, but here he seems to go a step further. His voice becomes another instrument and part of the overall soundscape. It’s low in the mix and heavily processed, which is an interesting artistic choice but does have the (intentional, perhaps?) effect of making most of the lyrics indecipherable.

In turn, this makes trying to penetrate themes or concepts behind the music a challenge. Masvidal has talked about the album expressing the struggle to attain ascension, and there seems to be a sci-fi element herein but the mix makes analysis very difficult. DNA Activation Template points most clearly towards that element – the computerised spoken voice brings to mind Rush’s Cygnus X-1. Perhaps the references to ‘ascension’ refer to humanity ascending into the universe, but it’s hard to say.

While there are 18 tracks in total, there are just eight full songs here, all of them separated by shorter instrumental soundscapes with odd titles like Ha-144 and Shar-216. These brief interludes help make the album more digestible, providing palate cleansers between the full-blown auditory onslaught of the main tracks. Masvidal’s guitar work is a wave of cascading riffs, with melodic lines that weave in and around each other.

Unlike the three-piece sound of Kindly Bent…, here everything is layered, whether with swirling ambient soundscapes, keyboard melodic counterpoints, or Matt Lynch’s constantly interactive drumming. 6th Dimensional Archetype and Architects Of Consciousness exemplify Masvidal’s maximalist approach of going full-on and flat-out. There are moments when he eases off the accelerator in Elements And Their Inhabitants and The Winged Ones, allowing some air into the music but that’s not where this album is going as a total experience.

Sean Reinert was justly celebrated for adding fusion drumming vocabulary to progressive metal and Lynch also seems to be following that path. He’s a nimble drummer, rarely playing straight grooves but constantly firing off fills, even when Masvidal is singing. His quickfire runs around the kit recall Simon Phillips, Manu Katché or Gary Husband, albeit in a heavier musical context.

There’s some sense of circularity here. While younger groups such as Arch Echo, Animals As Leaders and Periphery owe a debt to Cynic for pioneering this very particular approach to progressive rock and metal, the polished, processed sound of Ascension Codes seems influenced in turn by the bands that followed in their footsteps. The exuberance of the playing is in contrast to the understandably melancholic vibe that has resulted from the deaths of Reinert and Malone. Right now, Cynic’s future seems anything but certain, yet with their fourth record, Masvidal’s continuous evolution proves that he can keep pace with the youthful challengers, pushing at the boundaries of modern prog while still delivering a fitting testament to fallen friends and colleagues.

ELBOW

Flying Dream 1 POLYDOR

Bury’s finest test the waters of self-reinvention.

Elbow have always had it in them to create a sibling to what singer Guy Garvey calls the “patient, quiet” lodestars the Bury band grew up listening to: Talk Talk’s Spirit Of Eden, John Martyn’s Solid Air or The Blue Nile’s Hats. Moments on their previous nine albums have proven it, and even back on their debut, Asleep In The Back – released an implausible 20 years ago – they were tamping things down and breaking hearts with tracks like Powder Blue or Scattered Black And Whites.

Now, nudged by writing during the pandemic, they’ve gone for it, with Garvey hinting that Flying Dream 1 essays “bruised and wistful”. No big festival crowd sing-alongs; restraints tied on Elbow’s prog-adjacent tendencies to stir up genres and juggle tempos. Recorded partly in an empty theatre in Brighton, it’s a hushed, subdued whisper; an album that doesn’t shout or show off but requires you to come up close and find your way in.

Yet to become truly eerie and holy and placeless, as Hollis and company did during Talk Talk’s time of subtle glory, a band’s familiar personality needs to be forsaken completely. What’s known as their voice, their style, has to be ruthlessly jettisoned. Kill your darlings and all that. The thing with Elbow is that Garvey is a superb singer and lyricist, and he’s not ready to ditch those gifts yet. Hollis was a great singer too, but he somehow morphed into a different great singer, one delivering sound as opposed to text. This album, for all its reserve and atmosphere, essentially follows the time-honoured Elbow template, and can’t find its way to becoming free-floating jazz.

That isn’t to suggest it’s not lovely. Beautifully played, and with Garvey slipping perceptive, poetic lines in, it’s rich with an honest warmth most bands would kill for. But it’s still Elbow, and they refrain from shedding skins and assuming a new identity. Flying Dream 1 continues to utilise their traditional strengths: that push-and-pull dynamic between their unpretentious nature and the yearning romance, which rips through their best songs. They’re closer in spirit to 1976-’79 Genesis than to any contemporary.

This, then, is an album for their most dedicated fans – it may alienate casuals – which values the power of silences. The Only Road and Red Sky Radio are love songs where the beloved is life itself; The Seldom Seen Kid joins the pop quiz list of songs that gave their title to an earlier album by the same band. This is the same band, but they’re trying, gently, to be another one. Whether they eventually realign their DNA and get there or not, we still win.

CHRIS ROBERTS

A FORMAL HORSE

Meat Mallet AFORMALHORSE.BANDCAMP.COM

Another winner from Southampton avant-rockers.

W hat do Batman’s Adam West, footballer Adam Lallana, Lowestoft, malted milk biscuits, and the atomic bomb have in common? They, and many other things, all make cameo appearances on A Formal Horse’s second full-length album.

To say there’s a lot going on here would be a colossal understatement. Frenzied songs about our species’ capacity for self-delusion and destructive instincts hurtle past the ears, often with abrupt but exquisitely executed balletic handbrake turns.

That head-spinning blend of complexity and brute force conjures up a high-speed collision between The Mahavishnu Orchestra and Cardiacs, with Hayley McDonnell’s vocals cutting through the roaring storm surges of metal-edged guitars, bass, and drums with power and clarity.

That all of these heart-stopping dynamic leaps and lurches come festooned with so many memorable hooks and choruses is an impressive feat that only adds to the sense of wonder generated here.

Hard hitting and musically fearless, combined with their signature warmth and humour, this dizzy whirlwind of joyous noise is utterly glorious from start to finish. SS

APPICE PERDOMO PROJECT

Energy Overload CLEOPATRA RECORDS

Instrumental power duo’s feel-good debut.

Onetime Vanilla Fudge drummer Carmine Appice has been pounding his kits for almost 60 years now. Teaming up here with multi-instrumentalist Fernando Perdomo, the all-instrumental Energy Overload started out as an experiment, the pair swapping ideas online during lockdown, and they clearly had fun with it.

Crashing in with Blow Speaker Boogie they set out their hard-blues-rockmeets-fusion stall early on with Appice’s double-bass shuffling propelling Perdomo’s funk-edged bass and fruity guitar soloing: Funky Jackson delivers the promised groove alongside some lovely guitar melodies. Highlights include the title track, with an appearance by Sons Of Apollo’s Derek Sherinian on keyboards, Rocket To The Sun’s soaring Beck-esque guitarlines, and The Triumph with its thunderous drum intro and Perdomo once again demonstrating what a range of musical talents he has. It occasionally takes a questionable turn – as on their lounge band reggae version of the Appicepenned Rod Stewart mega-hit Da Ya Think I’m Sexy? – but this doesn’t detract in any major way from its overall quality. And even in his mid-70s, Appice can’t half hit those drums. GMM

BENJAMIN CROFT

Far And Distant Things UBUNTU MUSIC

Jazz/prog creations from British artist brought up close and personal.

Keyboard maestro and composer Benjamin Croft’s second solo album sees him exploring similar ground to 2018’s 10 Reasons To…, developing the playing and production aspects of his craft.

Smooth jazz explorations sit beside energetic fusion reminiscent of Chick Corea’s Electric Band and even Brand X in places, with occasional touches of Zappa-esque quirk. Croft also pulls in some impressive names to help out: S&R Video (a paean to Croft’s favourite video store as a child) features the gorgeous trumpet of Randy Brecker, while elsewhere Frank Gambale and Chad Wackerman make their presence felt.

These high-profile guest artists shouldn’t detract from Croft’s own contributions, whether it’s the evocative electric piano of SAD (Spatial Awareness Disease), the ebb and flow of his piano soloing on the breezy Thank You, That’s What I Wanted To Know, the layered keyboards on The War Against Loudness or the punchy yet very proggy St Gandalf’s.

Seeped in the traditions of 70s and 80s jazz-fusion, Far And Distant Things puts a contemporary spin on the genre and sounds terrific with a crisp, revealing production. GMM

BURNT BELIEF

Mutual Isolation ALCHEMY

Colin Edwin and Jon Durant’s remarkable fourth collaboration.

W hat immediately grabs the attention on the opening Where It All Began (For TR) is Vinnie Sabatino’s high-velocity ride cymbal and snare playing around the ‘one’.

But the track is made up of planes of activity at different speeds. There are unruffled trumpet lines by Aleksei Saks and clumps of sonorous double bass notes from Colin Edwin – known for his work with Porcupine Tree, Twinscapes and O.R.k. – then Jon Durant introduces his keening fretless guitar halfway through. Here, as on the rest of the album, the combination gives the music a warm, rounded feel, while electronics and sparse keyboards add translucency and depth.

T he complex, animated Perilous Terrain develops into a funky swagger and the duo’s sense of melody comes across on The Evolution Of Disintegration. Everything about Mutual Isolation is subtle but telling, as exemplified by guest percussionist Andi Pupato, who spends most of his time listening for exactly the right time to contribute a textural flourish. That these empathetic improvisatory passages were, as the title suggests, recorded separately is quite extraordinary, bordering on the telepathic. MB

CHICK COREA AKOUSTIC BAND

Live CONCORD JAZZ

The original Romantic Warrior’s posthumous swan song.

Chick Corea’s death inFebruary 2021 came as a shock not just because we tend to think of our musicalheroes as being invincible but because even up until a few short months before his passing, he seemed such a vital and energetic individual. 2020’s Plays spotlighted his solo shows but Corea at his best was always found when he was in the company of others, sparring and trading his boundless energy with fellow musicians.

T his two-CD album, the first Akoustic Band release in two decades, was recorded at a 2018 concert and, as if making up for lost time, boy, are they on fire. In a smoking performance dominated by the pianist’s compositions alongside a few standards, the tightness of Corea, bassist John Patitucci and drummer Dave Weckl is frequently astonishing.

Their take-off and effortless acceleration, their ability to shift and turn in lockstep with each other, no matter how tricky and precarious the angles, feels akin to watching the murmurations of birds ascending and swooping together in impossibly fluid formations.