Tomb Mold is a name I’ve heard tossed around in the past. I was vaguely aware of them, and that people generally liked them, but I wasn’t even really sure what subgenre of metal they played. So when they dropped their first new album in four years and people started praising it as this wonderful prog metal release, I felt like I had to give it a listen.
The Enduring Spirit kicks off with “The Perfect Memory (Phantasm of Aura)”. It’s got a tight, complex, nasty main riff, and that title really nails the pretension of prog-death well. The playing is fantastic, and there are lots of neat flourishes. This is one of my favorite songs on the album. The following “Angelic Fabrications”, though, is considerably more generic. It’s not bad, but it’s pretty run-of-the-mill blackened death metal.
I generally do my best to be positive on this site. I cover music I like (mostly), and I aim to give acts the benefit of the doubt when possible. I’ve heard it said that critics should be curators, not gatekeepers, and that is an ethos I strive for. But every now and then, you run across a flaming pile of shit so spectacularly bad, you have to stop and gawk. It’s a trainwreck with bodies strewn everywhere, and the mere sight of it makes you sick, but you can’t look away. And to top it all off, the person driving the train is a notoriously unpleasant curmudgeon. When a situation like this arises, it’s hard not to react to the spectacle.
Having a nice, long hate on an album can be a fun, cathartic exercise on occasion. I haven’t really done that on this site before now, but it’s something I did a number of times when I was writing reviews on my personal Facebook page. The Astonishing, Dream Theater’s overblown, under-thought rock opera, was a particularly fun record to bash. I’m looking forward to expanding on that in my eventual Dream Theater Deep Dive. (I did bash Leprous’s last two albums pretty hard, but even my Aphelion review found some limited good.)
I touched on this briefly in my Pink Floyd Deep Dive, but Roger Waters is pretty easy and fun to dislike. He often comes off as a self-important douche who is deeply unpleasant to spend time around. Normal, likable people don’t get married five times or have irreparable rifts with coworkers. Sure, his politics are not too terribly different from my own on most fronts, but his sanctimony goes a long way in making me second-guess those overlapping views.
He only seems to have gotten more unpleasant in his old age, too. His spats with David Gilmour, which seemed to have quieted down a bit in the mid-2000s, have only flared back up as nasty as ever in recent years. And the dude is even on Russia’s side in the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine. Add into that mix some additional ridiculous, egotistical statements–like his bitter, petulant outburst that he is “far, far, far more important” than The Weeknd when the Canadian press didn’t give his tour enough attention–and it’s easy to see why it’s hard to look away from his nonsense.
Now, to Roger’s credit, he’s not intending for this to be a replacement for The Dark Side of the Moon. This work is presented as a different take on things. The album is a reflection on life and death, and re-recording it with another fifty years of life experience sounds like a concept that could work… theoretically. The problem is, Roger’s best work was always strongly reliant on David Gilmour and Rick Wright providing significant musical input. This manifestation of Dark Side simply lacks that ineffable spark that made the original one of the greatest rock albums of all time. In many ways, this release feels like him attempting to diminish the importance of the other members of Pink Floyd and cast himself as the act’s true creative force.
It’s been a decade since Steven Wilson’s last good solo album. (I almost said just “album,” but Closure/Continuation was good. Not great, but good.) Especially considering the trajectory of his last two solo releases, I did not have high hopes for The Harmony Codex. He’s been teasing this album for a while as a return to form, and he had repeatedly said it’s less pop-oriented than The Future Bites. Then again, I’m sure that Roger Waters also thinks his dogshit re-recording of The Dark Side of the Moon is good. Needless to say, I took Steven’s word with a (large) grain of salt.
And I am pleased to say my skepticism was mostly misplaced. The Harmony Codex is notably stronger than The Future Bites and To the Bone. Its album art is even an improvement over both those works! In addition to being his most interesting album in a while, it’s also his most electronic since his (quite crappy) 2004 collection of electronic music. Latter-era Porcupine Tree often dabbled with electronic elements, and Wilson is part of the electronic duo Bass Communion, so this pattern isn’t unprecedented.
The Chronicles of Father Robin are a band that dates back to the inception of Scandinavia’s modern prog scene. (The Nordic countries also put out some good material in the 1970s, but bands like Kaipa, Friendship Time, and Haikara don’t have much of a direct connection to the modern scene.) Originally formed in 1993, they made plans for a sprawling triple album built around one unifying story thread. Nothing came of it at the time, and the band members went on to be in major acts, like Wobbler, Tusmørke, and Jordsjø, among others. Now, nearly 30 years later, the band has reunited.
The Songs & Chronicles of Airoea – Book 1 is the first part of this planned three-part album arc. Multi-album story arcs are nothing new to me, not that I ever give much mind to lyrics. I am curious to hear just how musically cohesive this project winds up being across subsequent releases. I’m hoping it’ll be something a bit more interesting than just the same album three times over, but only time will tell.
Band: Baroness | Album:Stone | Genre: Progressive rock, Sludge metal | Bandcamp
Baroness’s first non-color-themed album is an improvement over the miserable Gold & Grey. The production is much better here; I can actually distinguish different instruments in the mix! The songwriting sees Baroness try a few new things, to mixed results. “Beneath the Rose” and “Choir” both see the band integrate some alt-metal influence, and “Magnolia” features some excellent evolution through its runtime. Stone still sees the band trying to be both pop-friendly radio rock and prog-sludge, and that prevents either side from truly shining.
Score: 71/100
Band: Giant the Vine | Album:A Chair at the Backdoor | Genre: Progressive rock, Post-rock | Bandcamp
This instrumental Italian act usually plays at an unhurried pace. This gives the music a chance to build and take its time in making its point. In their best moments, the channel strains of Porcupine Tree and Dream Theater’s less-metallic side. On the flip side, Giant the Vine has a tendency to let their music become aimless or repetitive. On the whole, this is decent, enjoyable instrumental prog, but the bloat does detract from it somewhat.
I really couldn’t find too much about The Anchoret. “Canada” is the extent of what I could find about their origin, and their record label doesn’t have much more information on them. This is a five-piece band that plays a melodic variety of progressive metal, with a number of notable jazz inclusions. With such a scarcity of information, let’s jump right into their debut record, It All Began with Loneliness.
Despite the title, it actually begins with “An Office For…” This features some jazzy–if somewhat overwrought–guitar soloing before launching into a slow-moving, languid verse. The saxophone which shows up is also a bit on the corny end of things. But don’t worry, things improve after this somewhat weak opening!
M-Opus tackles the concept of “retro-prog” in a rather unique way. Each of their previous two albums have been “set” in a year in progressive rock’s history, to pretty decent results. Their new album, At the Mercy of Manannán, is setting itself up to fill some big shoes, as this one is using the year 1972 as its framing device. The span of 1971-1973 was (to me, at least) the absolute apex of the genre. Big names like Yes, Genesis, ELP, Gentle Giant, and Jethro Tull were all putting out their best work. (King Crimson peaked a bit later, in the mid ‘70s.) 1972 alone saw the release of all-time classics such as Thick as a Brick, Close to the Edge, Pawn Hearts, and Per un amico. (And the debut of seminal Irish prog(-ish)-rockers Horslips, if we want to narrow the lens to M-Opus’s homeland.)
Manannán is an Irish sea deity, and the ruler and guardian of the Otherwold, the Celtic conception of where their gods lived. I’m not particularly well-versed in Celtic mythology, but that alone sounds like it should be able to at least match the lofty concepts of many classic prog albums.
Band: Grant the Sun | Album:Voyage | Genre: Post-metal | Bandcamp
I liked this band’s 2019 EP, Sylvain, so when I saw they were putting out a full-length release, I made sure to put it on my docket. The music here is heavy and moody, occasionally with vocals. Guitar lines are both gritty and expansive, and there are a lot of wonderful textural contrasts. I’m not sure there are enough ideas here to warrant a full album, but this would have made a pretty decent long EP if they trimmed off a couple songs. The playing is great, and I’m especially fond of the guitar tones they chose. But post-metal is simply a genre where songs can quite easily start sounding too similar to one another for me.
Score: 73/100
Artist: Bobby Lee | Album:Endless Skyways | Genre: Krautrock, Americana | Bandcamp
This record is full of dreamy, floating guitar lines and airy, otherworldly atmospheres. The influences of acts like Neu! and Hawkwind are evident, but the occasional twang of slide guitar or folky acoustic strum helps keep this album in fairly unique territory. The blend of country, psychedelia, and krautrock is pulled off very well here.
For as long as I’ve been running this site, I have repeatedly praised Scandinavia’s thriving progressive rock scene. In particular, I enjoy when acts put a uniquely Nordic spin on prog, rather than just doing some (admittedly quite good) Anglo-prog. Hailing from Oslo, Tusmørke is a band I was surprised to find I had not yet covered. They’re prolific, with Hestehoven (The Horse’s Hoof) being the band’s twelfth full-length release in eleven years.
On top of that rapid release schedule, they’re distinctive. Other bands might incorporate Scandinavian folk into their music, but it can sometimes be superficial or somewhat sparingly utilized. Tusmørke’s songs sound like they begin life as folk songs before being given a rock rhythm and an abundance of keyboard effects. The band’s music also steers clear of the self-serious dourness that can easily befall this subgenre. Songs are frequently peppy, bouncy, and light-hearted. (I do not speak Norwegian, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the band dabbled in some darker lyrical themes for contrast.) One of their releases from 2017–Bydyra–was even explicitly tagged as children’s music.
Sometimes I run across albums with artwork that does not seem to fit the music. Yearning: Promethean Fates Sealed, the first full-length album from Chicago-based Fleshvessel, doesn’t quite gobsmack me, but it’s not really what I was anticipating. Twisting trees made of arms and chasms lined by teeth led me to expect a gruesome onslaught of relentless death or black metal. But instead, this band has put out an impressively diverse, cohesive, and thoughtful record. Yes, there’s no shortage of harsh metal here, but there’s so much more.
The Elite Extremophile 