Guitarist Steve Hackett may be best known for his work with early Genesis in the 1970s and participation in the 80s rock super group GTR, in which he played alongside Yes guitarist Steve Howe. But for over thirty years, he has had a distinguished solo career, releasing a number of exquisitely wrought recordings with a variety of collaborators. Those who are “in” on the existence of this impressive catalog might wish that it had less of a cult status, as that’s what would befit much of Hackett’s output from a qualitative standpoint. However, remaining slightly below the mainstream’s radar has had had a fortunate byproduct. Hackett has been able to avoid the pressures of mainstreaming and homogenizing his records’s content, a fate that has befallen far too many prog legends once the A&R people got their way. Instead, Hackett has happily explored eclectic music-making; work that encompasses prog rock epics, synth-haloed alt pop songwriting, blues-inflected electric guitar shredding, pastoral neo-folk ballads, and crossover classical compositions played on nylon string guitar. Sometimes all of these approaches appear on the same album.
Beyond the Shrouded Horizon, Hackett’s most recent studio release, epitomizes this eclecticism. Yet, amid all this variety, it is a musically cohesive and engaging recording. The principle reason: Hackett’s singular creative vision remains crystal clear and his chops and voice are both in sterling shape. Fans of the guitarist’s progressive rock catalog will warm to “Loch Lomond” and the twelve minute epic “Turn This Island Earth;” the latter features guest bassist Chris Squire (of Yes). Squire also provides a contrapuntal bass part on symphonic prog song “Looking for Fantasy,” and lays down a sepulchral groove on “Catwalk,” a roiling blues-rock number that showcases Hackett’s soloing at its most hot-blooded. Amanda Lehman lends nimble vocals to three songs, while John Hackett duets with Steve on the pastoral psych pop piece “Between the Sunset and the Coconut Palms.” Longtime collaborator Roger King provides beautiful synth textures and keyboard playing throughout.
Hackett’s two brief acoustic guitar solo compositions, “Wanderlust” and “Summer’s Breath,” are tantalizing palette cleansers: one would love to hear them in expanded incarnations. For those wanting a concise “single-worthy” pop song, complete with Beatles-esque harmonic shifts and supple string arrangements, Hackett supplies “Til These Eyes.” Yes, Beyond the Shrouded Horizon is a stylistically omnivorous collection; but one that maintains high musical standards throughout.
For their latest studio album and recent tours, Yes opted to recruit vocalist Benoit David instead of continuing with signature singer Jon Anderson, who at the time of their decision to change personnel was sidelined with health issues. While one won’t wade into the the long, storied, and myriad interpersonal dynamics of Yes personnel, it’s nice to know that Anderson has recovered and rejoined music-making, releasing Survival, a stirring solo album. He’s also reunited with keyboardist and fellow Yes alum Rick Wakeman for another studio effort, The Living Tree.
A live outing, The Living Tree in Concert Part One, shows both in fine fettle. If some of the songs are now transposed down in deference to Anderson’s sexagenarian status, and if Wakeman’s playing now focuses on lyrical lines and stalwart harmonic support in favor of pyrotechnical displays, both display consummate musicality and a dynamic rapport that only comes with decades of association. Their delicate handling of the material, both new songs and works from their back catalog such as “And You and I” and “Long Distance Runaround,” emphasizes the melodic strengths and rich imagery of the lyrics, lending the set considerable poignancy. And, there are occasional surprises, such as bouncy, reggae-tinged version of “Time and a Word.” It is a recasting that might chaff the principles of Yes purists, but it’s jaunty fun all the same.
Thus, while one wishes Yes’s main contingent well, it’s not bad to have two groups out there inhabiting this body of work. As a bonus, Anderson and Wakeman present convincing new music – and a “wondrous story” of the rekindling of a longstanding musical friendship.
This is a serious super group that delivers on its potential. Besides being session musicians to the stars and leaders on their own projects, bassist Tony Levin, guitarist David Torn, and drummer Alan White have played in countless groups associated with progressive rock, jazz fusion, and improvised music – King Crimson,Yes, and Liquid Tension Experiment chief among them. But this is their first recording together as a trio. And while it is indeed a powerful sound that they make, the music on Levin Torn White is intricately constructed and adventurous in a way that few modern day power trios can hope to emulate.
There’s more than a dash of the spirit of King Crimson – particularly its later lineups – alive in the music created here. Levin, of course, was the Crimson bassist for much of this time period, but Torn and White channel some signatures of Fripp and Mastelotto too. The guitarist’s own atmospheric improvisations are of course distinctive in their own right. But on the ethereal track “Convergence” they can also reasonably be likened to Fripp’s soundscaping. Meanwhile, Torn’s shredding on “Ultra Mullett” emulates the tart dissonances and skronkish squalls one heard from Thrak era Crim.
White propels the action with his characteristically forceful and energetic playing. But he’s able to turn on a nickel with each time change and unorthodox mathy metric configuration on the menu. I’ve long been an admirer of Tony Levin’s work, but he outdoes himself here, laying down thrumming low end and staccato Chapman stick filigrees that crackle with vivacity.
If you’re someone who thinks that fusion and prog – particularly of the instrumental variety – is rife with noodly indulgences and bathetic compositions, this release is strongly recommended as a corrective of your misapprehensions. Those already among the converted will find much in which to delight here. One hopes it isn’t a one-off collaboration: these three seem to be just getting started!
After lengthy legal wrangling, Chris Squire holds the rights to the name of prog-rock band Yes (he’s the only one who hasn’t, at some point or another during its four decade history, quit the band!). Still, from an outsider’s perspective, it can’t help but seem churlish that the other members of Yes have ousted Jon Anderson, the band’s vocalist on all but one of its albums (Drama), in favor of a singer from a Yes cover band.
It’s more than a bit satisfying to find Anderson in such fine voice on a solo effort, Survival and Other Stories. Anderson’s solution to being “between bands” was to engage a host of collaborators via the internet. Despite trading mp3s back and forth and engaging in most of the interactions remotely, the results are surprisingly cohesive.
Survival brings together various strands of Anderson’s musical interests – Celtic, folk, New Age, prog rock – resulting in a collection that’s likely to please fans from various stages of his storied career. And, to answer the inevitable question, the 67 year-old can still hit all his high notes – with aplomb!
After appearing on their previous LP, Mirrored,Tyondai Braxton has left Battles to pursue solo projects (including several indie classical commissions). And while Braxton’s contributions were a significant component of Mirrored, the band does just fine without him on Gloss Drop.
They’ve retained their signature mathy rhythms and frenetically whimsical jump cut forms. In addition, Battles aren’t shy about delving into two styles whose heyday was in the 1970s: prog and fusion. But both of these (in my opinion, unjustly) maligned signatures are given a post-millennial reboot by the band; infused with aspects of glitch and house electronica.
What’s more, Gloss Drop includes several stirring guest vocal contributions. Matias Aguayo adds a vibrant presence to the up tempo, kaleidoscopically scored, and Latin pop tinged single “Ice Cream.” In a break from her regular gig with Blonde Redhead, Kazu Makino’s powerful pipes are pressed into service on the mid-tempo syncopated techno pop cut “Sweetie and Shag.” Yamantaka Eye (from the Boredoms) is heard amidst fervid ostinatos of pitched percussion and neo-prog guitar solos in layers of reverberant, incantatory singing.
On Gloss Drop, Battles have made a diversely attired yet adeptly constructed album that’s as fascinating as it is singular.
To celebrate their tenth anniversary, Japanese post-rock collective Mono recorded their first collaboration with symphony orchestra: Hymn to the Immortal Wind. Given the band’s penchant for evincing classical signatures, this addition of acoustic instruments seems a natural step in their musical development.
What’s more, the band does a fine job of incorporating the orchestra without de-fanging their music’s rock-imbued heft. Thus, “Ashes in the Snow,” the album’s opener, builds from a gentle introduction, which sets up a repeated harmonic progression on which the whole dozen-minute piece will be based, to a thrilling wall of soaring guitars and strings with propulsive bass drums underneath. While limiting such a large canvass to a four measure chaconne could easily get tiresome, the constantly shifting instrumentation and frequent dynamic gradations keep “Ashes” a fascinating, slowly evolving tableau.
“Burial at Sea” spotlights an affecting neo-baroque classical nylon-string guitar-bass duo which gives away to a sweeping full-band prog-rock anthem. “Follow the Map” combines piano, acoustic guitars, and the occasional bluesy slide against chamber strings in a fetching extended passage; this is followed by a climactic orchestral tutti. Both compositions go much further than many prog/orch collaborations to effectively use the orchestra’s strengths with a keen awareness of balance and timbre.
“Silent Fight, Sleeping Dawn” features a beautifully mournful tune in the lower strings, set against delicate minor-key piano arpeggiations; the piece is somewhat reminiscent of Michael Nyman or Gavin Bryars in its minimalist aesthetic. “Pure as Snow” is similarly conceived, juxtaposing lush high strings against percussion in a portentous funeral march. Once again, the band organizes things around a phrase-long harmonic ground; and while the presentation is haunting, one occasionally wishes for more rhythmic variety. This concern is somewhat ameliorated on “The Battle to Heaven,” which incorporates drum kit more prominently.
“Everlasting Light” closes the recording with a stirring celestial vision; sustained guitar melodies are haloed by violins; then buoyed to a thrilling finale by a wall of glorious E-major. Hymn to the Immortal Wind is resoundingly successful.
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