Opportunity Crosses The Bridge

"Progressive rock and boy-band pop seem like natural enemies at first. The former's fascination with ornate, elongated passages of finger-exhausting musicianship is in almost every way the opposite of the latter's emphasis on catchiness first; it's hard to imagine turn-of-the-millennium hits like "Bye Bye Bye" with extended guitar and keyboard solos. Yet ever since A Doorway to Summer, their 2005 debut, Moon Safari has put to rest the notion that progressive-minded songwriters can't make pop that's as hook-driven as it is ostentatious. Grandiloquent epics like "Other Half of the Sky," from the 2008 double album Blomljud, weave together widescreen arrangements with the band's signature five-part vocal harmony, a feature unmatched by few groups in any genre, anywhere. It's easy to isolate the audience with solipsistic soloing and obtuse orchestrations, but from day one Moon Safari has made prog that—assuming the layperson were more amenable to songs that run upwards of thirty minutes—could lead them to something like a pop crossover hit.But while the union of hook-heavy vocal interplay and '70's prog stylistics gives Moon Safari an unmistakable, unique sound, it also handicapped them in a significant way for their first two LPs. The group's accessibility on A Doorway to Summer and Blomljud, along with its technical prowess, is unassailable, but the high-fructose sweetness of its style leads to a diabetic rush when stretched out onto songs that span ten to thirty minutes. For example, "Other Half of the Sky," the titanic thirty minute showstopper off of Blomljud, has so many memorable hooks that by the time it's run its time out, it's hard to remember all of them. The classic problem of "too many voices leads to a noisy room" was the defining problem of Moon Safari's otherwise enjoyable sound for some time. All that changed, however, in 2010 with the release of Lover's End.It is no exaggeration—even as the decade remains young—to say that Lover's End is one of the finest progressive rock records of the '00's. Hell, it's not even crazy to say that it's one of the finest pop albums of the '00s; anyone, even those turned off by prog's eccentricities, can find something to love on this mellifluous collection of songs. From the a cappella charm of "Southern Belle" to the hook-loaded "New York City Summergirl," Lover's End is chock full of goodness from beginning to end. What explains its genius is that in contrast to A Doorway to Summer and Blomljud, the songs are given exactly the amount of space they need, and not a second more. Some songwriters may feel hamstrung by the verse/chorus structure, but it's a perfect fit for Moon Safari's joyous approach to music.With their newest studio outing, Himlabacken, Vol. 1, Moon Safari continue the refining of their sound, and while this isn't the breakthrough that Lover's End was, it nonetheless attests to the brilliance of this group. Whereas the latter was bound by a loose concept (love and heartbreak), Himlabacken Vol. 1 is less a lyrics album than its predecessor. The cost of this is that the music is less distinct in its cohesiveness, but there are no shortage of catchy passages and amped-up solos. "Mega Moon" comes off as a tribute to musical theatre, with "The Very Model of A Modern Major General" vocal delivery interweaving with Queen-esque bombast to an impressive effect. "Too Young to Say Goodbye" sees and matches the polyharmonic beauty of "Lover's End (Part One)." By sticking to concise song formats—the longest cut here runs nine and a half minutes—Moon Safari ensures that things never run out of steam, an essential quality to any good progressive rock band.If nothing else, Himlabacken, Vol. 1 proves that there's one thing Moon Safari can't be accused of: being unaware of themselves. Grand finale "Sugar Band" is as much a statement of identity as it is a slice of epic pop: "Sweet and saccharine are we," they declare, followed by "syrup's the blood in our veins." (Less successful is the clumsy Katy Perry innuendo of, "suck our big candy canes," which is thematically consistent but tonally off.) Both "Sugar Band" and "Little Man," one of the few Moon Safari songs to feature a solo vocal, are emblematic of the mushiness that might turn some prog fans away from their music. The latter, while obviously a touching document of a father's love for his son, does feel a bit out of place in how deeply personal it is; part of the strength of this group's sonic is the universality of its pop appeal, and the intimacy behind "My Little Man" makes listening to it an almost voyeuristic experience. "Mega Moon" and "Sugar Band" are better at capturing the convivial spirit of the band that's accessible to all.As with past outings, even those drawn to vocal harmonies might find it hard to stomach all of the sweetness of Himlabacken, Vol. 1. But what ultimately makes this LP successful is its unpretentious commitment to fun. Moon Safari are a rare collective that prove daunting musical chops aren't anathema to accessibility, and with Himlabacken, Vol. 1 they've made a recording that, while not the magnum opus that Lover's End was, is as true a capturing of their ethos as there could ever be. Sating a sweet tooth brings to mind the phrase "guilty pleasure," but there's no guilt involved with music as first-class as this. Who knew being in a boy band could sound so classy? " - Sea Of Tranquility

Its been seven years since Phideaux Xavier's last album.  Everyone has been chomping at the bit for this album and I can honestly say he delivers the goods.  If you are unfamiliar with his work you should expect contemporary progressive rock with lots of references to the 70s giants.  A perfect blending of old and new sounds.  (I'm a sucker for the Mellotron sounding bits).  While he originally started out as pretty much a one man show, Phideaux has morphed into a band with 10 musicians contributing, including Discipline's Matthew Kennedy who holds down the bass notes.  There is a lot of music here and its new so its going to take some time to digest.  This will easily sit high on year end top 10 lists.  Buckle yourself in and dig deep into this one.  Well worth the effort.BUY OR DIE!"Arguably no other progressive rock creation in recent years has been shrouded in as much mystery and expectation as Infernal, the latest studio effort from Phideaux. After all, it follows what many fans (myself included) consider to be three of the best genre albums of all time: 2007’s Doomsday Afternoon, 2009’s Number Seven, and 2011’s Snowtorch. (Of course, the prior collections were great as well and paved the way for such distinction.) As such, devotees have spent the last seven years—if not eleven since Infernal concludes the Great Leap/Doomsday Afternoon set—speculating and anticipating how exceptionally it’ll tie into the trilogy, maintain the idiosyncratic brilliance of its predecessors, and rank as one of the top works of its release year.So, was it worth the wait?Well, that depends on what you expect. Upon initial listens, those hoping for a consistent continuation of the aforementioned trio’s robust eccentric intricacy may find it a bit wanting; sure, that side of Phideaux certainly crops up from time to time within its ninety-minute duration (especially during the second half), but Infernal is deceptively unvaried and reductive at first glance since it appears to prioritize straightforward songwriting and lush yet modest arrangements. However, a deeper analysis and appreciation reveals how resourcefully Infernal actually does two things at once: touch upon the styles and stories of its two narrative precursors while also establishing an almost brand-new approach entirely. Thus, the double LP is markedly different from—yet equivalent to—the extraordinary achievements that came before it.Just as The Great Leap and Doomsday Afternoon were different kinds of albums, so too is Infernal (despite featuring the complete Doomsday Afternoon line-up). In fact, during our last correspondence, Phideaux confirmed my conclusion that the first and second discs are meant to channel the first and second entries in the trilogy, respectively, as it simultaneously feels more theatrical (“like a play”) than either of them. Perhaps, then, it’s best to think of Infernal as the BE (Pain of Salvation) or The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (Genesis) of the band’s discography, as it extends out of its predecessors in the midst of existing as a singular experiment unlike anything else in their catalog.Although the first half of the undertaking captures the more accessible rock nature of The Great Leap overall, it’s still filled with multilayered splendor and a fair amount of complexity. Opener “Cast Out and Cold,” for instance, is a tour-de-force that builds ominously (with effects and harmonies) before instantly evoking the classic Phideaux charm with its blend of male/female lamentations and pastoral instrumentation. In doing so, it sets a great stage on which to introduce the more multifaceted, urgent, and dynamic “The Error Lives On”. Later, “We Only Have Eyes for You” is relatively bouncy and playful (despite being foreboding beneath the surface), whereas “C99” is a venture into sinister surrealism and “Tumbleweed” uses the trademark piano ballad as a poignant cliffhanger. Again, these songs in particular may seem too similar to each other originally, but they eventually become truly essential components in making the record flow like a unified performance filled with captivating melodies, lively textures, poetic lyricism, and entrancing structures.The concluding portion of Infernal absolutely channels Doomsday Afternoon in its heighted emphasis on flamboyant intricacy. This is clear from the start, with “The Order of Protection (One)” contrasting its introductory choral serenity with a latter helping of dissonant tones over mesmerizingly mischievous piano motifs (that—no surprise—are reimagined brilliantly in “The Order of Protection (Two)”). Elsewhere, “In Dissonance We Play” finds a strong balance between solid songwriting and musical showmanship, “The Sleepers Wake” is tenderly enchanting, and “Endgame – An End” wraps things up in a mildly foreseeable yet entirely fitting and satisfying way. Without question, though, the standout track of the whole journey is “From Hydrogen to Love,” a fourteen-minute masterpiece that serves as the “Microdeath Softstar” of Infernal (in more ways than one and I’ll leave it at that).At the risk of spoiling any more of the LP’s magic (hence why the breakdowns of each disc barely scratched their surfaces), suffice it to say that arguably the chief feats of Infernal are its abundant allusions to past sequences and its refreshing theatricality. Not only does it offer plenty of links—both subtle and overt—to itself, Doomsday Afternoon, and The Great Leap as it develops, but it even throws a nod or two at another full-length triumph (whose identity is then made obvious via a clever anagram). Every one of these connections will delight devotees, as will the brief scattered respites that basically act like soliloquys/monologues/intermissions. Together, these elements make the album feel at once laudably unique and endearingly familiar while also revealing (and justifying) why it took so long for such a passion project to be completed.Ingeniously, Infernal simultaneously pays tribute to the Phideaux legacy and etches itself as a wildly ambitious, enthralling, and fresh entry into it. Although it can be a bit incongruent and underwhelming at first, those who fully internalize all that it offers—and appreciate what it’s doing both expectedly and differently—will find it to be another benchmark creation in the catalog of one of the most distinctive and essential artists in modern progressive rock. Taking that into consideration, a new question must be asked: Is it Phideaux’s greatest achievement to date?Well, it could be." - The Prog Report 

MY BROTHER THE WIND is an improvisational cosmic rock collective consisting of members of widely known Swedish acts Makajodama, Magnolia, Animal Daydream and most notably Anekdoten, one of the more widely recognized names in the 1990s prog rock revival.Recorded live in the studio with no overdubs during a single day in January 2013, Once There Was A Time When Time And Space Were One captures the collective's progressive soundscape qualities with incredible analogue studio production. The band utilized 6 and 12 string acoustic and electric guitars, Mellotron, flute, bass, drums, congas and more to complete the task. Expect 45 minutes of the band's most succinct material to date, recorded deep in the snowy, forested, Swedish wilderness.In 2013, MBTW expanded into an even wider fanbase, having been invited to play the mighty Roadburn Festival in Tilburg, Holland, as well as at Duna Jam in Sardinia.  At the invitation of Opeth’s Mikael Okerfeldt, guitarist Nicklas Barker returned to Roadburn to perform an improv set with Dungen guitarist Reine Fiske.Those who frequent the works of Popol Vuh, Amon Duul, Sun Ra, Träd, Gräs Och Stenar, Albert Ayler, Ash Ra Tempel, Gong, Pink Floyd and other visionary, psychedelic rock artists are advised to investigate this act. "Lush and instrumental for its duration, My Brother the Wind‘s third full-length, Once There was a Time When Time and Space were One (released by Free Electric Sound/Laser’s Edge), rolls out of the speakers much easier than its title rolls off the tongue, though both title and the work itself satisfy rhythmically. The Swedish four-piece — they now seem to be a bass-less trio with Nicklas Barker (Anekdoten) and Mathias Danielsson (Makajodama) on electric/acoustic 12-strong guitar and Daniel Fridlund Brandt on drums, but Ronny Eriksson plays bass on the album — reportedly recorded live to two-inch tape on a vintage machine, and the passion they put in bleeds readily into the nine-song/45-minute outing, fleshed with liberal splashes of Mellotron courtesy of Barker to play up a ’70s prog feel in a piece like the 12-minute “Garden of Delights.” That’s hardly the only point at which those sensibilities emerge, but even more than that, the primary vibe here is one of gorgeous heavy psych exploration, the band adventuring and feeling their way through the material as they go.On peaceful moments like the title-track, which arrives as the penultimate movement before “Epilogue” leads the way back to reality — accordingly, “Prologue” brings us in at the start — that exploration is positively serene, the 12-string complemented by spacious electric tones spreading out across vast reaches, but Once There was a Time When Time and Space were One offers more than drone and psychedelic experiments. Subtly pushed forward by Brandt‘s drums, pieces like “Into the Cosmic Halo” and even “Epilogue” enact classic space rock thrust, and even “Song of Innocence Part 1,” the first part of the journey after the backward atmospherics of “Prologue” introduce, has some cosmic feel amid its echoing solos. Its subsequent complement, “Song of Innocence Part 2,” swells to life on an even more active roll, waves of amp noise up front while drums and bass groove out behind, waiting for the guitars to catch up, which they do in a suitably glorious payoff, relatively brief but masterfully engaging, setting a momentum that continues well into “Garden of Delights,” a focal point for more than its length.Because the songs flow so well one to the next, some directly bleeding, others giving a brief pause, and because later cuts like “Thomas Mera Gartz” — named in honor of the drummer for ’70s Swedish proggers Träd, Gräs och Stenar — and the title-track have a quieter take, it’s tempting to read some narrative into the shifts of Once There was a Time When Time and Space were One, but with the material not being premeditated, I’m not sure that’s the intention so much as a signal it’s well arranged. In any case, the album offers an immersive, resonant listen, with tonal richness to spare and the presence of mind to keep a sense of motion even in its stillest parts and a balance of organic elements — Danielsson‘s recorder and Brandt‘s percussion on “Misty Mountainside,” the 12-string, etc. — amid a wash of effects and swirling psychedelia. This attention to sonic detail makes Once There was a Time When Time and Space were One more than just a collection of jams, and adds further purpose to the already worthy cause of My Brother the Wind‘s thoughtful musings, wandering and not at all lost." - The Obelisk

Swedish psychedelic/progressive rock alchemists AGUSA present their third full-length album simply titled Agusa.The follow-up to 2015’s Agusa 2 (Två ) sees the AGUSA circle expanding their kaleidoscopic output which conjures images of nature and the cosmos, their extensive passages again leading the listener into fantastic realms of a possibly supernatural or parallel existence. While Agusa 2 (Två) engulfed forty minutes of music through two massive tracks, Agusa sees the band delivering their singular brand of, trance-inducing, folk-inspired, occult rock through more traditional track lengths, offering five songs which range from five to ten-and-a-half minutes in length and are a bit heavier than the album’s predecessors.Agusa was recorded and mixed by Viktor Rinneby and mastered by Grammy-winning engineer Bob Katz, and completed with art by Danilo Stankovic and design by Peter Wallgren.In September 2016 AGUSA released their live disc Katarsis, which had been recorded in Athens, Greece six months before. Following that release the band had hectic schedule with gigs in Scandinavia, Poland, and back to Greece. This proved to be too much for organ player Jonas Berge who left the band in January 2017, while recording the new Agusa album, which caused the band to take a pause in order to complete the album and replace Berge. Finding a talented organ player who would also fit into the group proved to be a difficult task, but finally Danish organ player Jeppe Juul was picked as Berge's successor. Juul is originally from Denmark but now lives in the deep woods of southern Sweden in primitive circumstances, where they must carry all water from a nearby well and occasionally get some electricity from some solar cells on the roof. He has previously played with many acts in different genres; Marcus Miller, Royal Danish Ballet, and Lili Haydn, among many others.AGUSA has performed live throughout Europe, including the mighty Roadburn Festival and more. Preceding the new Agusa album, flute player Jenny Puertas gave birth to a daughter in May which saw the band performing sans-flute for several shows, and additionally, organist Jonas Berge rejoined the lineup for several performances, which saw them playing live with two organ players. As always, AGUSA performed vastly different versions of the new songs live compared to how they ended up on the album, continuing their ongoing mission of turning every concert into something unique.

"The Chronicles of Father Robin is a Norwegian prog-rock supergroup, with members hailing from Norway’s symphonic prog kings Wobbler, the ever non-definable Tusmørke, seasoned post-rockers The Samuel Jackson Five and the elusive prog gem that is Jordsjø. “The Songs & Tales of Airoea”, 30 years in the making, is a cohesive triple concept album with 18 songs set in an alternate archaic world for over a period of three decades.  The first album, “Book I”, will be released on September 15th.The Chronicles of Father Robin (TCOFR) emerged from the remains of the band Fangorn back in 1993- 94, mainly inspired by the classic bands and albums of the early 1970s progressive music scene, alongside contemporary bands like Änglagård, Anekdoten, White Willow and Landberk.During the years the boys created the story of the entity Father Robin. The root idea was that this creature embodied all the members of the band into one being. And as the members experienced challenges in life and their development as human beings, this translated itself into the story of Father Robin, sprinkled on top with a fair amount of inspiration from different mythologies and such. Through lengthy jam sessions and then more finely tuned arranging and structuring, the band developed an ongoing system where every song linked itself to the others. Holistic impulsivity and ideas, altruistic friendship, music, fantasies and coherent concept - all melded together in one pot, and everything took place in the archaic world of Airoea."

After an exceptionally long year full of personal change and near manic levels of creative activity, Canadian musician Devin Townsend releases his follow up to 2019’s acclaimed ‘Empath’ album. Assembled from a barrage of material written during the pandemic ‘Lightwork’ represents a new level, and has ended up being one of the most accessible, yet ambitious releases of his storied career. A project that has been on Devin’s mind since he was a teen, (and flirted with throughout his career) is a more melodic and direct album with a great producer to help guide the work. Enter Garth Richardson: A Vancouver based producer with a long resume and a friend of Devin’s for many years. And the goal? To provide something beautiful, cathartic, powerful and clear. A sense of optimism and power through what can be commonly known as a ‘depressing period’. It’s about strength, love, acceptance, fear, and overcoming together. Guests on the record include friends and stalwarts from his past (Anneke Van Giersbergen, Ché Aimee Dorval, Morgan Agren, Mike Keneally, Steve Vai, Elektra Women’s Choir) as well as some newer friends and faces (Darby Todd, Diego Tejeida, Nathan Navarro, Federico Paulovich, Jonas Hellborg), and also, in a rather hard to believe turn of events, legend producer and guitar player Nile Rodger plays on the track ‘HoneyBunch’.