Artist: Stuart Wicke | Album: Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám | Genre: Progressive rock | Year: 2024
From: Louisville, USA | Label: Independent
For fans of: Blue Öyster Cult, Pink Floyd, The Decemberists’ proggier stuff
Poetry isn’t really my thing, and that is borne out in my usual disinterest in lyrics. Obviously, though, poetry and lyrics speak strongly to some folks, and one of those folks is Kentuckian singer-songwriter Stuart Wicke. Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám is Wicke’s eighth full-length release, coming just four months after his last effort. Consisting of just two long songs, each of them draws their lyrics from poetry.
Opening the album is “Song on the End of the World”, a three-part, 15-minute epic. Part two draws its inspiration from the poem of the same by Czesław Miłosz, and parts one and three are based on “America: A Prophecy” by poet William Blake.
“Song on the End of the World” opens with a tense but groovy guitar lick that is heavily inspired by Pink Floyd’s Animals. Wicke’s voice is strong and passionate, and he’s able to shift between moments of anxiety and more flowing passages easily. After the opening verses, there’s a melodic guitar solo that’s quite nice, despite some iffy mixing. (The drums come off a bit too loud.) There’s plenty of drama behind it, making it appropriate for a song with such a striking title.
Part two emerges from this with a calm, subdued guitar arpeggio and delicate vocals. There’s a dreamy, idyllic feel to this passage, and it channels some of Pink Floyd’s best mellow and folky moments. The mood gradually grows darker, with organ and guitar swirling together to create ominous musical thunderclouds. This stormier mood eventually merges with the opening passage of part two, lending a strong sonic continuity.
Heading into the final three minutes, the rolling opening riff from part one reemerges to establish part three. The song concludes on another strong guitar solo, and it’s a fitting climax.
The other long song on Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám is its title track. These lyrics are taken directly from the book of the same name. That book is Edward FitzGerald’s 1859 translation of medieval Persian poetry. A ruba’iy (pl. ruba’iyat) is a traditional style of Persian quatrain with an AABA rhyme scheme, and these ruba’iyat are attributed to the 10th Century Persian polymath Omar Khayyam. How much of this poetry was truly authored by Khayyam is still a topic of scholarly debate, but FitzGerald’s translation has been widely acclaimed since its release.
Folky, Middle Eastern-tinged acoustic guitar opens this song, and Wicke’s voice is smooth and impressive. Flashes of organ and electric guitar bring additional weight, and the ebb and flow of momentum keeps the listener invested. Eerie, minor-key chords mark a brief change in mood before suddenly shifting to something a bit peppier and singer-songwriter-y. Those darker chords interpolate with the bouncier moments, fostering a sense of tension.
Near its midway point, the song slows down, and ethereal keyboard tones provide atmosphere. Flashes of themes from earlier in the song crop up occasionally. Wicke proves he’s very good at weaving ideas throughout longer pieces across this album. The title track’s final movement features more somber music and an emotive, Gilmourian guitar solo.
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám is an ambitious project, and it is a resounding success. The two epics weave beautiful lyricism with dynamic and exciting instrumentals. There is a clear thematic throughline on each song, with peaks and troughs of drama and emotion.
Score: 88/100
The Elite Extremophile 
I’ll have to check this out. Another great musical adaptation of the titular poem, if you’re at all curious, is a 1970 effort by pioneering jazz harp player Dorothy Ashby. It’s worth a listen (or several), with an interesting mix of lite-jazz grooves, Asian textures, and low-key singing and soloing. It’s far better than that description makes it sound.
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