Album Review: Epica - Omega

I'll be honest to start this review off; I can't actually remember the last time I dove into an Epica album. There's something about their classical-tinged, beauty and the beast metal that never had a strong appeal for me. I have kept an ear to the ground, but the stampede of their ever-growing fan base hasn't gotten close enough to trample me just yet. Still, I'm always interested to hear if things have changed, if my perspective might be coming at things from a different angle now, so it feels like a good time to see what Epica has in store for us today.

Epica is, as always, an exercise in excess. "Omega" clocks in at 70 minutes of dense, symphonic music. It is not easy listening, nor  for the impatient among us. I tend to say the same things, and I'll repeat myself again; if you're making either a song or album that is longer than average, you have to use your time wisely and justify every second. With this long album starting out with 100 seconds of orchestral introductions, that philosophy is shunned before we even get going. The band is asking for a good chunk of our time, and then proceeds to essentially waste some of it before getting to the damn point. If you can't tell, I am beyond sick to death of pointless introductory tracks.

Once we get into the meat of the album, Epica is even more frustrating than ever. On the one hand, their melodic and symphonic metal is the best it's ever been. Simone Simmons sounds great singing these melodies, which are strong and rousing. As a dramatic band, Epica is really good at pulling off a tricky feat. On the other hand, I don't find their death metal particularly interesting, or in any way necessary. I know it's part of their DNA, but it adds a flimsy veneer of fake anger atop a deeper and richer existence. Simone is capable of sining over their heavier moments, so the band doesn't gain any power by pushing her aside for growling.

I'll draw an easy comparison to the band Illumishade, who released their first album last year. They are composed of the same basic framework, but that band focused on beautiful vocals and a tight presentation, while Epica has no focus and a bloated album. It's not hard to decide which is the better path; Epica's decisions have always made it hard for me to get excited about their music, even when I should be, and this album shows not much has changed in the way I interact with the band. I'm impressed by their capabilities, I'm swept up by their beautiful moments, and I'm deeply annoyed when they drift off into more boring territory.

I'm not trying to tell you what to enjoy, so if the two sides of Epica sound great together to your ears, that's great. I can only be honest about my experience, which was a pendulum swinging between frustration and relief. The question I have to ask is whether the good outweighs the bad, and by how much. The answer is yes, there is certainly more good here than the bits I have issues with, but no, those don't outweigh my issues enough to make the album worth investing that much time in, repeatedly.

To ask me to listen to your album for over an hour, it needs to conquer my attention. "Omega" doesn't do that. The best moments here are fantastic, but they don't carry through for the entire running time, and I don't want to have to justify to myself listening to something I don't fully enjoy.

Once again, Epica is a very good, albeit flawed, band. You may, but I don't have the patience to look past those flaws, so "Omega" is an album I will only revisit in bits and pieces.

Album Review: Evergrey - Escape Of The Phoenix

Many people thought that Evergrey had a 'return to form' over their last three albums, which were a conceptual trilogy where the band flexed more progressive muscle than during their "Monday Morning Apocalypse" and "Torn" period. For myself, those albums were all decent enough efforts, but I'm one of those people who honestly did prefer when the band was playing more directly, on "Torn" especially. As I hear them, they aren't particularly great at being progressive. In that spirit, I'm encouraged to hear the band say they are once again writing more direct songs on this record, which is the main reason I'm giving it a chance.

Why do I say that about Evergrey? Their style is one of low-tuned, chugging riffs. They do not play intricate passages with complicated musical concepts, nor do they throw a dozen components into a song. When they stretch songs to seven, eight, or even ten minutes, that's a lot of the same kind of guitar playing to listen to all at once. They often don't have enough going on to justify the length of the songs. But here, with most of the songs in the five minute range, the ideas don't run their course and then come back for a second lap when they're already out of breath.

"Where August Mourns" is the best Evergrey song I've heard in over a decade, because it cruises along at a solid pace, has a lovely melody, and possesses exactly no fat or filler. This record isn't "Torn", if you worry about them heading down a road you didn't like. "Torn" was an angrier, dirtier record than this one. "Escape Of The Phoenix" is smoother, 'prettier', and sadder. Tom Englund isn't using his voice to spit fire, he's mired in darker and sadder feelings. That might be an artifact of his Silent Skies project, which was a miserable thing to listen to.

And much like that, the moments where Evergrey is softest and slowest on this record are the least enjoyable. "Stories" stretches over six minutes, and spends much of it mining the same balladic dirge qualities that annoyed me before. The piano parts twinkle, but there's no memorable riff or melody to them. Englund croons, but again there is little melody to what he is singing. The whole band acts as if setting the tone is what's most important, and while that is something notable, there still needs to be a strong song behind that. There isn't on that track, and it pays the price for it.

Like every Evergrey album I've covered, this one is a mixed bag. There are certainly strong songs that deliver something no other band can, but there are also too many moments where the band is going through the motions. Even with a more compact album, they find opportunities to drift off the path. This could have been a strong album if they kept up their focus, but the ebbs are too deep for the record to build or maintain any momentum. Yes, I probably like "Escape Of the Phoenix" more than the last couple of records, but I still can't find myself loving Evergrey. I should, but they keep me at arm's length.

And no, that was not a pandemic joke.

Album Review: Anneke Van Giersbergen - The Darkest Skies Are The Brightest

Music can be therapy. I think we all know this on a cursory level, but perhaps we haven't stopped to give serious thought to how a creative outlet can aid us in our quest for understanding and/or growth. There is something comforting in the act of putting thoughts to paper (or screen, depending on how luddite you are) that can purge them from our minds. If not that, we can see when our thoughts are written down flaws in the internal logic that get lost as they swirl around in our heads, blurring into a hurricane of worry and anxiety. And then there is how art can express thoughts and feelings we otherwise wouldn't be able to share with other people. Things we were not consciously aware of come out in the subtext, and perhaps those are the things we always needed to say.

Perhaps it's saying a bit much that an album can save a marriage, but this record was made in the spirit of that purpose. Anneke saw a storm approaching, and turned to music to find what she wanted the next chapter to look like. So rather than the metallic sounds of Vuur, she strips everything down to mostly an acoustic guitar and her voice, so she can tell the story of her life, and in turn find where her future was pointed.

"Why in the world is it so diabolically hard," she asks in the opening "Agape". Is that not the question we have been asking since the beginning of time? We have been conditioned to think love should be easy, that once you find it there are never any problems. That's not the case, and a lifetime of being fed that fiction makes realizing the necessary work even more difficult. What that means is this record is Anneke's acceptance. It is painful, personal, and more important than anything I can say here.

How exactly am I supposed to critically assess a record that may have saved the life Anneke wants to have for herself? If I say a melody is boring, that will pale in comparison to the impact that same song has had in righting the wrongs in her relationship. In a way, the task at hand is a bit like critically reviewing someone's diary. While it's possible to dissect the language used, that would miss the entire point.

This album is successful before any of us hear it, simply because it did what it was supposed to do. Any relationship we have with the music is secondary to what it means for Anneke, and it feels rather insignificant to try to put my own thoughts in the same category as hers.

At the very least, this record gives us an album of Anneke's beautiful vocals put front-and-center for us to enjoy. Her voice is gorgeous in this setting, where every nuance of her performance is clear as a bell. When the vibrato kicks in on a louder note, you can feel it reverberate in your own chest, even if you can't entirely relate to the words she is using. A lot of her fans might not be able to embrace this record, since it is so quiet and subtle, but there is a lot of beauty to be found here. It's a heavy album, in the emotional sense, so it might not be the sort of thing you put on often, but it's far more daring than Vuur was.

Legend has it Stradivarius violins sound unique because the wood was treated with blood. These songs stand apart from everything else Anneke has ever done, perhaps because they wear the stains of her blood. I'm not sure what else I can say.

Album Review: Cave of Swimmers - "Aurora"

 

The best bands are often the ones most difficult to describe.  It’s an inherent problem and an ever-present dichotomy of music fandom; we crave creativity and praise innovation, but then in the discovery, are feebly incapable of finding the proper words to describe the revelation to our friends.  So, we cop out – “dude, you just have to hear it.”

Such is the case with Cave of Swimmers’ newest effort, “Aurora.”  Not only is this is an album that re-invents the band in a new light, but serves to re-define how we consider the metal power do.

There is no easy parallel for what Cave of Swimmers has created here.  Certain elements are identifiable and comparable – the eclectic, frenetic writing style of Destrage, the vocals-in-front of Mars Volta, the low-key staccato riffs of Queens of the Stone Age, all appear in their turn, and all fall precipitously short of actually describing what’s happening on “Aurora.”

Since Cave of Swimmers is a two-piece act (who makes considerably more noise than any two-piece should,) there is a mental compulsion to refer to them as a sort of power metal White Stripes, but even simply putting those words together feels inadequate.

So, what are we really listening to here?

We begin with “The Sun,” as anthemic a song as a metal fan could ever want, with a speedy riff, tight percussion and a huge, undeniable chorus.  “The Sun” blisters (sorry, bad pun,) with forthright metal fury in the traditional sense.  There’s some high-flying Cirith Ungol in the proceedings, but told through the harsher prism of thrash riffs and an unrelenting pace.

The most important part of the “The Sun” is that is establishes “Aurora,” as a record not to the dismissed, which is important, because the ride gets stranger from there, as we hurtle headlong into a catchy but silly song about seeing a double rainbow (man, remember when that went viral?)  If the order of these songs had been reversed, fans might have passed on Cave of Swimmers as a joke act, much to their own loss.

Every song on “Aurora” offers something new and novel.  It continues with “My Human,” a well-paced and appropriately dramatic proceeding that surprises with a rhythmic thump in the chorus worthy of the deepest groove metal.

And then, “Looking Glass,” the greatest of the album’s six true songs (the opening cut is a throwaway intro.)  This is the culmination of all the ingredients that Cave of Swimmers has brought to the table – an Iron Maiden gallop, a hi-fi rock guitar tone, a bright punk chorus, a righteous buzzing solo.  All of these are melded into an improbable but infectious stew, the kind of song that you find myself humming while working late hours at the office (some personal experience here.)

And this doesn’t even get into the Metallica-bred riffing of “Dirt” or any of the other great stuff that happens in this compact blockbuster of an album.

For a conclusion, I’m going to commit a cardinal sin of reviewing, which in full disclosure, I seem to commit a lot – I’m going to make the review about me for a minute.  I have been reviewing music, in some form or fashion, for almost fifteen years now.  As I confront the stark reality that I am a scant few years away from being forty years old, and as responsibilities in my regular life add on this making less and less of my time my own, I am faced each January with the very real trepidation that maybe this will be the year that music leaves me behind.  Taste will move on past me, my ear will go tin or artists simply won’t produce any new material that I find compelling. 

Cave of Swimmers has proven to me that I have at least one more year of viability.  Thank you, gents.

Durbin - The Beast Awakens

Many people who listen to the kind of music James Durbin is making on this solo venture of his will hold it against him that he appeared on American Idol. They'll say it was phony, or beneath us, or any manner of other things to disregard a show, format, and scene they don't like. I won't do that. What I will do is hold it against him that he spent the last couple of years in Quiet Riot, in which time they produced some truly horrible music. I'm still not sure whether they or LA Guns are the 80s band who have put out the worst music in recent years, but it's a tight race to the bottom.

So James has a lot to do if he's going to win me over.

Starting off with "The Prince Of Metal", I'm at least pleased he has the humility not to call himself the king. I'm less pleased he's trying to ape King Diamond's style, since those piercing high notes are intolerable if you aren't the King. I don't know why it works when he does it, but no one else can get away with it. And when they leave in his voice breaking at the end of the first chorus, I'm left shaking my head. The way that same note blends into the start of the guitar solo is cool, until you notice the guitar sounds far better than James' shrill vocal. Oops.

I'm also left puzzled by the sound of the album, with the buzzing guitars sounding incredibly lo-fi. I know enough about production to know there are plenty of free plug-ins for recording software that can do a thousand times better than what we have here. It leaves the record sounding cheap.

The worst aspect of the record, however, is the guest appearance on "Kings Before You" by Fozzy frontman Chris Jericho. It's a bad move for multiple reasons; one being that Jericho's voice isn't good enough to want to spotlight him, another being that Jericho has spent 2020 as a COVID denier who played at what might be the biggest super-spreader event in The United States. That's who Durbin is tying his horse to. It's not a good look at all.

For the rest of the album, Durbin does at least prove one thing; he was not the biggest problem with Quiet Riot. While he contributed to the failure of those records, it's clear listening to this album that he was simply not the right person for that job. Singing a more metallic style, he sounds far more comfortable, even if his tone still gets on my nerves. At the very least, I know who he is listening to this album, which I wouldn't have known before.

He does write a few solid traditional metal songs, even if they are slathered with multiple coats of the thickest cliches you can imagine. "Into The Flames" and "Evil Eye" are good songs that could do something, if they just sounded better. Even the better moments here are hard to take, since the record isn't up to par from a production standpoint. There are some records you want to turn up so you can hear the details, while this is a record you want to turn down so the harsh distortion isn't as evident.

This is the sort of album that fails on the surface level, and doesn't give us enough to discover deeper down to justify the discomfort. It's still better than what he was doing in Quiet Riot, so it's proof he made the right choice from a creative standpoint, but it still falls short on every level of what I would consider a good record. Improvement is nice, but when you're still jumping to scrape the bar with your fingertips, it's faint praise.

Bloody Good News: Music Business Blues

Our Top Story: Drama and conflict is nothing new in the music business, but we might be seeing an uptick in those cases as the ongoing reality of our pandemic life has further strained an already tough scenario. With no tours on the road, musicians are struggling to make money, and some of that frustration is boiling over and coming out in the press. We have a couple cases of that recently.

Joe Lynn Turner expressed his anger at being replaced in Sunstorm, a project that has existed solely to give him a platform for melodic rock music. At first, the decision was announced by the label as being due to Turner's reluctance to make AOR again. Turner had released a statement respectfully stating his side of the story, but as the promotional press for the new Sunstorm record began, Turner spoke up again.

"I see a definite attempt to twist my words to justify the effort to promote this new release of SUNSTORM, show their autonomous power for any and all creative and business endeavours and prove the fact that no moral or ethical considerations exist as long as the corporation holds the legal trademark…"

The ugly side of the music business comes into play once again. If the label does indeed own the rights to the name Sunstorm, they are free to do whatever they want with the name, including replacing the only person who was ever associated with it. Artists rarely have the power to control their own careers, but it isn't merely his replacement Turner is upset about, understandable as that may be.

"I personally see absolutely no 'original musical style' about it.… No original: producer, vocalist, band members, song writers… Nothing. So, the main issue here is, why continue calling it SUNSTORM? Who do they think they are kidding?... After all, only fans can be the judge.

"To me it resembles the majority of releases on Frontiers Label as they often seem to be written, performed and produced by the same source. This being the exact reason why I was not going to continue…"

This gets us into a larger discussion of music as a product, and not just a form of art. Turner is right that there are many people in the business who are churning out songs and albums for no purpose other than to sell new records more often. If it seems like every musician these days is in more than one band, the same is true behind the scenes, where a handful of songwriters are producing a bigger chunk of what we hear than you might realize. In some cases, there is a conveyor belt of songs rolling along, with the only difference being who is chosen to sing each one of them.

To see a project you have worked on for two decades turned into one of those endeavors can be frustrating. It can be depressing. It can also be insulting, if you want to take the fans perspective.

I'm not going to get into the politics of Turner's replacement any more than I have, but here's what is most interesting: the man who replaced Turner has himself been intensely critical of the same music business recently. Ronnie Romero, who is in nearly a dozen bands/projects, said this:

"I just got a little bit bored of all the things around the work you are trying to do every day. When I started to make music professionally, let's say, you don't know how the business works, and you think everything is great. And you come with all your dreams and hopes and everything to try just to make music, and then you realize there's a lot of shit — and not just from the business itself. Then you get this feeling that the people, they don't care about your feelings either, which is very important, because when you're making music, you're putting your feelings on it."

I find this interesting for two reasons. First, obviously, is that Romero has not said anything about the 'feelings' involved in replacing Turner in his own project. I would think someone expressing that sensitivity about the business would have sympathy for someone being shown the door so he can have yet another gig. Second, Romero's experience in the business is just that; business. To my knowledge, Romero is a hired gun who doesn't write songs of his own. He gets paid to come in and sing what is put in front of him, which makes him a bit of a mercenary. There's nothing wrong with that, mind you.

However, it's hard to complain about being treated as what you are. Romero is not an artist pouring himself into the creation of songs, only to have them stifled by the industry. He is singing other people's songs, growing his profile on the work of others. What I'm seeing is a bit of a one-way street, and it's hard to engender any sympathy in me if that's how it is.

In Other News: Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian said the following about his band's status:

"For a band like us, with our catalog, we don't have to make records anymore."

He's right, and that is painful for me to say. We have seen it proven out time and time again, as bands like Tool and Guns N Roses continue to tour and rake in huge amounts of money while taking decades to release new music, if they ever get around to it. What used to be a system where new music was necessary to justify going out on tour has shifted into a system where a new tour is used to justify making a record.

Anthrax does indeed have enough of a catalog to never again need to make a new record. And we see from legacy bands how audiences often treat the 'new' song during a show as an excuse to get a beer or hit the bathroom. Between the decline in record sales, and the apathy of audiences, the incentive to make new music becomes more and more internal.

That leads to yet another question; if you stop making music, are you still a musician? Yes, pedantically you are, but I feel like something gets lost when you are no longer involved in the process of creating. Going through the motions and playing the old hits isn't the same as still searching for the mysteries of a new song. It feels less authentic, if I can use that term.

But it's not my decision to make.

Album Review: Pale Waves - Who Am I?

A lot of people criticized Pale Waves debut album for being a clone of The 1975. Since I never listened to that band, I didn't hear the comparison, but I wouldn't care even if it was the truth. What mattered was that "My Mind Makes Noises" was a great record of sad-ass, synth heaven pop/rock. With cold atmospheres and Heather Baron Gracie's detached vocal delivery, they mastered what I called 'Daria rock'. Despite not really being my usual cup of tea, I was won over by that record, and I heard far more promise in Pale Waves than the majority of critics seemed to.

For album number two, the band has undergone a sizeable shift in their approach. Gone are the cold synths, and in their place are far more organic instruments. Gone is Heather's emotionless deliver, and in its place a more passionate delivery. Gone is the influence of The 1975, and in its place a throwback to early 00s alternative rock. When Heather mentioned Avril Lavigne as an influence, she wasn't lying.

That was readily apparent on "Change", which signals the turn as the lead-off track on the record. It is absolutely a slice of nostalgic rock that would have fit in right alongside "I'm With You" and "Complicated". So why the change? "Who Am I?" is a record about self exploration and pride. Throughout the record, and the accompanying videos, Heather is taking control of her life and explicitly (in both senses) embracing her status as part of the LGBTQ community. Elton John for years got by putting his identity in the background by singing songs filled with 'you' as a pronoun. Heather doesn't do that, telling us proudly that "She's My Religion". I'm rather surprised that even now, with as far as society has come, it feels a bit shocking to hear her say it so clearly.

Compared to "My Mind Makes Noises", this album paints with a fuller color palate. Heather can still pull back in certain verses, but she sings with more power and emotion than ever before. While previously it felt almost as if the point of Pale Waves was to have no feeling whatsoever, now they are making the human connection to their listeners. The band follows suit, with the instruments resonating far more than the synths could before. Everything is a bit more technicolor compared to the paleness of songs like "Television Romance". Both then and now tell similar stories, but the tone gives the songs different meanings.

Clearly, they are growing into this new sound. While we get songs like "Change" and "Wish U Were Here" that have big pop hooks that become infectious even on the first listen, there's also songs like "I Just Needed You" where Heather's attempt at being sultry falls flat. The vocal run on the extended not through the chorus shows some of the limitations of her voice. She has a great tone, but there are some approaches she struggles to pull off effectively. That song is the worst offender.

When the band is most effective is when they embrace their youth. Both in terms of a more up-tempo approach and Heather leaning into a younger syntax, when these early twenty-somethings sound like who they are, they make compelling music. I don't quite buy them the same way when they are trying for something more mature. Heather hasn't yet managed to elevate her words to fit those tones. Or perhaps its as simple as her voice not having the right weathering to make me believe she isn't still a young woman nearer the start of her journey than at major crossroads.

In a brief 34 minutes, Pale Waves has changed everything we know about them. They have claimed a new identity, and taken the chance to show us more of themselves. That is admirable, and making a good record after changing direction isn't an easy thing to do. I'll be honest and say I do miss some of the aura of "My Mind Makes Noises", but "Who Am I?" is a more important record for them. They have pulled it off fairly well.

Is Tonic Still "To Be Loved"?

2020 was a dumpster fire of a year. There's no getting around that fact. Just about everything that could have gone wrong did, and I have a sneaking suspicion life is never going to be the same again. For the second time in twenty years, we have lived through an inflection point, one of the watershed moments of history where the very nature of how we think is altered permanently. It was a horrible year full of pain and misery, but it will define both the near and long-term futures.

Through it all, I heard a lot of people say, "at least the music was good." Not for me it wasn't. There were the great songs and albums that got me through the toughest days, but by and large I would call it one of the weaker years in recent memory. At least for me it was.

The isolation of 2020 has given way to a blossoming 2021. No, the world isn't a better place yet, but all the time we had to ourselves has meant a flood of new music is now about to be unleashed upon us. It is such an unimaginable time in our history that I get to say this; my favorite band is back.

Tonic has not put out a new song since their self-titled album in 2010, but eleven years after that record, and several years after I had come to accept they were done making new music, we are being given a gift. I don't know if the pandemic and the world falling apart is what convinced them to start the band's engine again, or if it's to coincide with the twenty-fifth anniversary of "Lemon Parade" this year (I did extensive coverage of the twentieth anniversary, so I don't know if I will do anything this time), but does it matter?

Being able to write my thoughts about new Tonic music is something I never thought I would do again. I wrote a piece just last year asking myself if I even wanted to take the risk of new Tonic music disappointing me, but as soon as I saw the familiar art style pop up announcing a song was in the offing, all those doubts and existential questions quickly turned into nervous excitement.

So what is "To Be Loved"?

It's the most Tonic of Tonic songs, one that transports us back to the beginnings of the band. The classic rock influences of the 70s are more evident here than at any time since "Lemon Parade" with both the classic yet simple riff, and the slight effects that put a haze over Emerson's vocal. The mix sounds like a modern update of that record's gritty and dirty tone, which shows how the anniversary has been in their heads the whole time.

The trademark blend of Emerson Hart's acoustic and Jeff Russo's textural electric guitars is more classic Tonic, giving the song depth and nuance, and making it so you can listen to the song in different times, in different ways, and hear something new each time. Tonic is relaxed and confident, rocking just as hard as a group their age needs to. They have nothing to prove, and they prove exactly that. They wrote and recorded this song because they love music, they love this song, and they want us to feel the same way.

Eleven years ago, Tonic released an album that worked as a pause in their journey because it boiled down their first three albums into the essence of who Tonic is. With this first song since then, they are starting over from the beginning. It isn't just because of the time elapsed; Tonic feels fresh and vibrant on "To Be Loved", doing exactly what they are supposed to.

This song is indeed a gift from my favorite band, and all I can hope now is it won't be the last.

Album Review: Crystal Viper - The Cult

As today we are dealing with an album that is self-described as 'traditional metal', I've been thinking about that term. We all know what it means about adhering to the old formulas, but there's a mentality in there that doesn't make a lot of sense. Since metal was born of a renegade spirit, and was a youthful statement of rebellion from the culture surrounding those musicians, it seems that intentionally playing by the old rules is the very antithesis of what metal used to be. I can forgive that in some corners of the metal world where there is no such history, but traditional metal is the straight line drawn from the counter culture to today's ardent rule followers.

After the cliche two minute introduction, the title track of the record starts us off with Maiden-esque guitar harmonies, while Marta Gabriel wails away some high notes. Everything does sound ripped right from the glory days of the 80s, which I suppose is a good thing if you grew up loving the music of that time. If you are more attuned to what metal has evolved into, there is a lack of memorable melody built into songs like this. That may or may not be intentional, since it's hard to tell if they're copying the way songs were written back then, or if they're incapable of doing better.

That's the problem with doing a straight throwback; if you don't modernize the old, it comes off sounding foreign to the current listeners. What was an acceptable level of songwriting in 1984 is not what we have come to expect today, and without the lens of nostalgia to gloss over the shortcomings, Crystal Viper's music comes across as being incomplete. The old days of a riff and a chant worked because metal was new, and many of those riffs were strong enough to be the hook of the song. Crystal Viper's guitar playing is fine, but the musical compositions on their own are not enough to carry the weight of the songs, and the vocal lines don't stick.

Ronnie James Dio got away with a lot of songs that didn't have traditional choruses or big hooks because he had the vocal charisma to turn anything into a memorable line. While Marta is a solid singer, she doesn't have that kind of presence, which is absolutely necessary if these songs are going to do anything but disappear into the torrent of 2021 releases.

"The Cult" is a perfectly acceptable album of entirely predictable traditional metal. There's not a lot to say about something that is trying to do the same thing for the thousandth time. If you like traditional metal, this is a fine way of spending some time. If you're looking for something great that will stay with you, this doesn't stand out from all the other traditional metal albums enough to be memorable. There simply isn't anything *interesting* about what Crystal Viper are doing.

Album Review: Inglorious - We Will Ride

With their last album, Inglorious finally broke free of the tropes of bluesy hard rock to create something that was both more modern and more interesting. Nathan James always had the voice, but he finally had the songs to back up his band's promise. That record was great, and a harbinger of Inglorious perhaps breaking through in a way that a lot of modern bands aren't able to. But then a funny thing happened, and the band that made that record imploded before it could even be released. So James had to put together a new version of Inglorious, and the momentum of the previous record was halted as the new configuration learned how to be a band.

The result of a year with more than enough time to work on music is an album that picks up right where "Ride To Nowhere" left us. In fact, if you didn't know three-fifths of the band was new, nothing about this record would lead you to think so. That's actually a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it's great to hear Inglorious hasn't deviated from what was so good about "Ride To Nowhere". On the other hand, you could say it's a bit playing to form too much that the new players are so anonymous they can't be differentiated from their predecessors.

What works so well about Inglorious' sound is how they are able to clearly be a hard rock band influenced by the old, bluesier strains of the genre, but without going so far into the blues they are playing the same ol', same ol'. There's nothing new, or particularly interesting, that can be done with a twelve bar blues anymore, so I'm relieved to hear the band focusing more on opening up their sound to a melodic sound only colored by the blues.

Plenty of these tracks, from "Messiah" to "My Misery", have the sound of arena rock blended in with their dirty roots. If you listen to this record back-to-back with Rival Sons, one of them sounds like a band that's growing a fan base that puts them in the upper tier of newer rock bands. Here's a hint; it's not Rival Sons. Inglorious has now given us back to back record filled with songs that sound huge, boasting big hooks that are perfect for a festival crowd to drunkenly "whooooo" along with. The only thing Greta Van Fleet has that Inglorious doesn't is a bad reputation.

The way the band is able to play with dynamics, to dial back and let things breathe before they kick up into high gear, makes a song like "My Misery" sound far bigger and more epic than a normal four minute track. It's one of the highlights of the album not just for the great melodic moments, but for serving as a distillation of all the classic rock influences Inglorious works with. If you want to know who this version of Inglorious is, look no further.

The one moment I'm not so keen on is "He Will Provide", where James sings about waiting for the 'Heavenly father" to arrive. I tend not to enjoy overly religious messages, but maybe you do.

Otherwise, "We Will Ride" finds Inglorious delivering another record that finds them at their best, updating the bluesy hard rock of the past for the modern age, removing the sepia-toned filters that blind us to the truth about the past. Inglorious, if they keep giving us records like this, are as good as their influences ever were.

Album Review: Foo Fighters - Medicine At Midnight

Somewhere along the line, I think Dave Grohl got bored of being in Foo Fighters. I'm not sure when it happened, but he's been stuck in a mode where every album needs to have a 'big idea'. He's no longer making music for the sake of making music, letting his songs guide the form the records take. Instead, he says "let's make a record in my garage", or "let's record a different song in every city", and then fits the music to his grand image. Perhaps that's why the band has only put out one album I've really enjoyed ("Wasting Light") in ages. I'm more concerned with the songs than the concept, and Dave hasn't been delivering on both fronts.

With this new album, the conceit isn't at the forefront, so we can finally let the music breathe again. Turns out that's not such a good thing. As we heard from singles "Shame, Shame" and "Waiting For A War", Dave's run of penning fantastic singles has dried up. That knack he once had for writing anthemic pop/rock songs is gone. Foo Fighters have been boring for several album cycles now, but this time they sound both boring and bored. The band themselves don't sound excited by these songs, so how are we as listeners supposed to be?

The album opening "Making A Fire" might have reversed that trend. The almost gospel backing vocals are a new element, but the core of the song is one of the best songs Dave has written in several album cycles. It sounds classic, it has a big hook, and it does the things Foo Fighters are expected to do, but perhaps with a more mature perspective. I get the band wants to explore new territory, but that can be done in the deeper cuts. The singles sell the record, and I feel "Making A Fire" would have generated more interest, and less headlines about them being washed up.

I can't say the singles sound better in the context of the album, because I'm not sure there is any context to take them in. The weird kaleidoscope changes colors when we get to the title track, which sounds like it's trying to be an 80s club song. There's something to the hook I do like, but the road we take to get there doesn't do much for me. I've been vocal about my distaste for 80s nostalgia, and Foo Fighters aren't the band that's going to turn that around.

So here's the truth about "Medicine At Midnight"; it's 36 minutes long, has no clear direction, and in many places is rather tuneless. These are not the glory days when the band was pumping out great singles, and deep cuts to go along with them. The band wanted to do something more fun this time around, and maybe it was a blast for them to make this record, but it strikes me as an album that needed more time in the writing stage. I'm not even complaining about the brevity. I can get over that, but not when a short record has failed experiments and songs I don't care to ever hear again.

With each successive album, the balance of Foo Fighters' career is shifting. Their batting average has come down, and at this point I would be hard-pressed to say they're more than a band that had a short run of making great singles. This album would be a terrible disappointment, if not for the last two. They salvage this project by at least making the failure an interesting one.

Album Review: Joel Hoekstra's 13 - Running Games

Songwriting is a very hard thing, much harder than I think most fans, or even musicians, might realize. Just because you are a great singer, or a great guitar player, doesn't mean you're going to be a great songwriter. I even go a step further than that, to say that musicians in bands who provide riffs and chord progressions, but who leave the vocal melodies to someone else, aren't entirely engaged in what I would call songwriting. The process is a bit of a mystery, and it's why I don't get excited just by seeing proficient names on an album's credits. I need to know who is writing, because without that element, no record is ever going to be great.

Joel Hoekstra is known as a guitar player, but on this record he is in charge of nearly all the songwriting duties as well, which gives us a different window into his capabilities. Some might say that with him on guitar, Russell Allen, Tony Franklin, Derek Shirinian, and Vinny Appice on board, you can't fail. They would be wrong. All of those people have appeared on albums that were decidedly mediocre.

What makes this album succeed is Hoekstra understanding what makes a melodic rock record work. Rather than dipping into his deep bag of guitar tricks, the songs are built on simple ideas and focused on the vocal lines Russell Allen is given to sing. Hoekstra still gets to flash his skill, but the focus is squarely on the songs, which can sometimes be a difficult realization for an instrumentalist to come to. Hoekstra does, and the attention paid to the key elements shines all throughout the album.

The first four songs are presented to us as a pillowy soft heap of melodies, inter-spliced with fiery guitar solos. Maybe that's not what the intention was, but the guitar tone is indeed soft in the way it distorts, with almost no chunk or bite to interrupt the ringing chords. It fits these songs, because they don't need to be heavier. I actually quite appreciate everyone being comfortable playing something on the lighter side. Toward the middle of the album, they try to get heavier and bluesier, as on "Heart Attack", but the production doesn't have the grit needed for those songs. The heavier attack doesn't sound heavy, which leaves those songs stuck in the middle ground. It's the traditionally melodic/AOR fare that works best.

Unfortunately, the album is divided between the two approaches, and its the latter that gets more time. Those songs are still good, don't get me wrong, but they are hampered by the production from being the kind of modern and heavier melodic rock that could have also made for a very interesting album. But with a guitar tone that just isn't that heavy, trying to be heavy isn't as appealing a sound as the ultra-melodic approach. When they take that path, the results are just as good as the W.E.T. album released last month, who just so happen to be one of the most acclaimed bands of the style. Let that sink in.

So what we sind up with in "Running Games" is an album that gets held back by not committing to what it wants to be. Both the lighter and heavier sides are good, but they don't entirely fit together on the same record, and they can't be played with the exact same band setup and production. With some tweaks to the track listing, and a more cutting guitar tone, there's a ton of potential for this to be a great record. As it stands, it's a flawed record with some great songs.

That's not such a bad thing.

Album Review: Transatlantic - The Absolute Universe

One of the things I pride myself on is my integrity. In the years I ave been writing about music, I have never said something I didn't believe (at least at the time). Even when I'm dealing with my favorite artists, while I might try to look for every positive I can find, I don't hesitate to criticize when I find it necessary. Part of that is due to the fact I'm not actually getting anything tangible out of this gig, so kissing ass isn't worth the effort, but I'm also not wired to be a liar. Even if I was the only one who knew, that would be enough to drive me crazy.

Transatlantic is my favorite prog band, hands down. "Kaleidoscope", their previous outing, won Album Of The Year from me, and "Bridge Across Forever" is without doubt my favorite prog album.

Before I even get to the music on this new record, I feel like I have to address the elephant in the room; the format. This album comes in two forms; a 60 minute abridged version and a 90 minute expanded edition. If that was extent of it, I could go along, since I get why people wouldn't want to spend an hour-and-a-half listening to a single album. Heck, I don't really want to do that. But that's not that all there is to this. Not only are there two different lengths of the album, the actual music contained therein is different between the two. The tracks feature different singers, different instruments, and different lyrics, depending on which of the two you're listening to.

What that means is to get the full picture of what Transatlantic is offering us, we have to listen to both versions, and then reconcile in our heads that the best moments will be scattered among both versions, and neither will be our own 'definitive' version of the album. And to make your own version of the album that will most please you, both CD packages will have to be bought, so the band is asking you to spend twice as much to get the album you really want (which you'll have to compile and burn for your own use).

Making an album is a decision making process, and on that front, Transatlantic has failed miserably. What is clear to me from this project is the band couldn't decide what direction to go with these songs, and rather than make a choice, or have someone make it for them, they instead opted to try to please everyone, which pleases no one. I'll be honest with you; I am incredibly disappointed they took this route, both because of the unseemly business side of things, but also because when we talk of this album there is no shared reality.

If I praise "The Absolute Universe", what am I talking about? Is it the short version, the long version, or the version I put together for myself? In a world where we saw 'alternative facts' become a real sentiment, we now have Transatlantic giving us alternative albums, and rendering discussion of their music either difficult or worthless.

The two versions of the album make for a disconcerting listen when "Heart Like A Whirlwind" is indeed completely different than the version we've been listening to for a month as "Reaching For The Sky", or when "The World We Used To Know" isn't on the abridged version at all. There's a feeling of being in the 'uncanny valley', where the album is something we know we have heard before, and it's remarkably similar, but clearly not the same. By presenting us before the release with songs from both versions, I feel like anyone who doesn't buy both is going to wind up disappointed.

As for the shared musical identity, Roine's being more assertive certainly shows up, as the band's sound on this record is lighter and more in line with The Flower Kings than on my favorite Transatlantic album. Those moments when the band cranks things up and introduces a heavy (for them) riff are few and far between, while the softer stretches of instrumental noodling grow longer. Taking a different tone isn't a problem, except that the long version of the album is 90 minutes long, and like the recent Flower Kings albums, that's far too long to play softly without adding in something more energetic and exciting.

I'm also not sure what to make of the ties to the past. The lyrics often refer back to "The Whirlwind", and there are a couple musical passages that feel like reprisals of previous work. I can't decide if they are intentional 'easter eggs' for the prog nerds, or if they are running out of ways to put notes together in new and different ways after being at this for decades. I could be convinced either way, and I'm not fond of either answer. When they essentially replay the second half of "Heart Like A Whirlwind" as the second half of "Solitude", it becomes a bit much.

What the album is lacking are the big, epic moments and songs that have defined Transatlantic as a band. There is no "Black As The Sky" or "Rose Colored Glasses" here, none of those stirring moments from their epics that blend prog and pop in the way that makes their music so interesting. They sound too comfortable, too relaxed through most of this record. "Owl Howl" is either five or seven minutes of mostly instrumental bits, including a lengthy passage where there is barely more than the drum beat and a synthesized woodwind piping out a couple of notes. I dare say it's flat-out boring.

And I have to also say this; while I get the band has an affinity for groups of the past where everyone took turns singing, Mike Portnoy and Pete Trewavas are not good enough singers to sing lead when you have Neal Morse and Roine Stolt on hand. I'm sorry, but they aren't.

So after digesting two-and-a-half hours of "The Absolute Universe", I have a few conclusions I can share. 1)Neither version of the record is 'the way to go'. 2)I now appreciate the limited amount of time they usually give themselves to put these records together, because the extra time they took allowed indecision to paint itself all over this record. 3)Other than their debut spending seventeen minutes on a cover I never want to hear, this is probably the weakest Transatlantic album yet, as presented. 

However, I did go through the process of putting together my own blend of the album, and that made a huge difference. Listening to that collated playlist, the album opens up and becomes something I find far more enjoyable. There are tracks on the extended version I feel need to be included in the listening experience, but I also find ninety minutes intolerable, and a few of the production choices better on the short version. So, by combining the best of both, we wind up with an album I really love. I would definitely say it's better than the debut, and possibly even "The Whirlwind".

Now comes the hard part. How do I render judgment on this album now, and when the end of the year comes? I have found myself loving "The Absolute Universe", but not either version the band has offered us. I would be lying not to say it will likely end up one of my favorite albums of the year, but I would also be lying to say it is. I'm not sure how to reconcile these thoughts, nor how much credit I can give to the band when I had to do some of the production work on my own to create the album experience as I enjoy it.

I suppose the only summary I can give it this; "The Absolute Universe" is more a jigsaw puzzle than an album. If you're looking for a collection of musical ideas you can put together in your own form, then Transatlantic has given us plenty to work with. If you're looking for an album you can buy or stream and listen to with no regrets, this will not be it. Both versions of the album are missing elements vital to the experience, and it's a huge missed opportunity.

Meanwhile, I'll be listening to my version and trying to convince myself I can legitimately call it an Album Of The Year contender when it only exists in my own mind.