Posts Tagged ‘robert fripp’


 Powered by Max Banner Ads 

BLLD – Materia Prima

BLLD BLLD   Materia Prima

Fans of German touch guitarist/composer/producer Markus Reuter will be happy to know that he has yet another project available for consumption.  This time he’s collaborating with multi-instrumentalist Ric Byer (who also calls himself 05ric) under the name Blld.  Their first EP, Materia Prima, is out on the tiny Squatter Madras label, distributed through Reuter’s company Iapetus Media.  At less than 21 minutes in length, Materia Prima is packed with layer upon layer of sound and reveals more levels of genius with each listen.  Anyone into Robert Fripp’s atmospheric work, the sonic transportation of Robert Rich or the more recent works of No-Man needs to take heed.  Percussion aficionados will also enjoy 05ric’s Bruford-esque maneuvers and the appearance of Porcupine Tree’s Gavin Harrison via his sampled drum loops.

Materia Prima feels like one continuous composition that’s subdivided into tracks.  Without the artificial insertion of track division, the CD flows directly through all seven named pieces.  The constant presence of Reuter’s ghostly Warr guitar and 05ric’s busy use of his entire drum kit bind the tracks together.  Other fascinating devices employed are 05ric’s voice and his phenomenal workouts on an extended-range bass guitar.  The voice-less “Identify” has him alternately slapping and growling through the bottom end while Reuter is creating spooky mysticism behind, above and all around him.  When the vocals join in on the remaining tracks (excepting Reuter’s 37-second solo piece, “Transition,” and his lengthier “Reverence”), it’s as if 05ric is contributing a human counterpart to Reuter’s otherworldliness.  Though sung in English, the voices are never quite distinctive and are instead intertwined with the instrumental performances, never lifting to exist above the music.

Blld isn’t a rock band by any stretch.  They have much more in common with Chicago post-rock outfit Tortoise than they do with King Crimson.  Yet for those of us who feel that every song’s been done before and new artists merely deliver reinterpretations of previous experiments, Blld provides an evolutionary performance.  When you’re in the mood to take the next step to music’s future, stand your ground on Materia Prima.

- Mark Polzin

  • Share/Bookmark

King Crimson Mark III – 1972-1974, The Return of the King

King Crimson Larks Tongues In Aspic King Crimson Mark III   1972 1974, The Return of the King

“The King Crimson in 1973-74 was not a balanced group, or perhaps it was balanced in disarray. It was sometimes frightening and not a comfortable place to be. Increasingly it needed improvisation to stay alive. But that didn’t show much in studio albums. In concerts, it stepped sideways and jumped. This team looked into the darker spaces of the psyche and reported back on what it found. The 1969 Crimscapes were bleak and written, the 1973-74 Crimscapes were darker, and mainly improvised.”Robert Fripp, The Great Deceiver Box Set.

It was 1972 and King Crimson were again in transition. The band had finished touring on the legs of its recently released live album, Earthbound. The current lineup – guitarist Robert Fripp, bassist/vocalist Boz Burrell, saxophonist Mel Collins and drummer Ian Wallace – was in its final stages, even though it had produced just one studio album, Islands. All the members, save for Fripp, would soon leave to form the band Snape with British bluesman Alexis Korner.

Fripp would be the only remaining member from King Crimson’s original 1969, a group that produced the incalculably influential In The Court Of The Crimson King. Since then, however, Crimson had been wrought with personnel changes and struggled to find a new identity in sound and personality.

But even as the latest incarnation of Crimson melted away, Fripp was intent on forming a new King, one that could harness the band’s indefinable essence. A new identity would soon emerge, and it would dramatically transform King Crimson into one of the most innovative groups of the 1970s and beyond.

The Players

First, several changes were in order. This Crimson would have two percussionists: Jamie Muir, an imaginative improviser who took to biting blood capsules on stage and hitting every bell, block and drum in his sight; and drummer Bill Bruford, who chose to leave the-then commercially successful Yes – a band that had released three magnum opuses in a row, The Yes Album, Fragile and CloseTo The Edge – for the relatively unstable and certainly unpredictable King Crimson.

“Yes had hit big and kind of robbed the bank,” said Bruford. “Once that had been done, somehow the thrill of the chase disappears quickly – getting there is much better than arriving. I think I was really looking for a change to something that had a more minor-key feel to it. Yes was essentially a pop group with some very attractive, sunny vocal harmonies, kind of like The Beach Boys. I was looking to be in a more mysterious, more improvising kind of outfit. From where I sat, Crimson was exactly that.”

The rhythm section would be completed by a musician whom Fripp (in The Great Deceiver liners) called an “increasingly loud bass-player of staggering strength and imagination, arguably the finest young English player in his field at the time. That bassist was John Wetton.

“He was in a long tradition of singing bass players,” said Bruford of Wetton. “It was an English idea that bass players sang. He had a lovely, gutsy kind of smoky sound to his voice at that time. And also, he was the hippest bass player in town.”

After the breakup of the Islands-era Crimson, Fripp chose not to replace Collins with another horn player; instead he recruited classically trained violinist and violist David Cross, whose musical talents also extended to keyboards.

Unlike the Islands-era lineup, this new Crimson was a group of musical equals (Burrell hadn’t even played bass when he joined the band; Fripp taught him his parts note by note) who were open to any direction the music might take them. The potential was mind-boggling.

“I don’t think there were any expectations, really, because it was so experimental,” said Wetton. “We knew that we wanted to be called King Crimson. We talked about it long and hard; it could have been something different. Robert had a very convincing line about it being a continuation of a way of doing things.”

“The expectations were realistic; at the same time our ambitions were enormous. They were limitless,” Wetton continued. “We realized that with this combination of people that anything was possible, really.”

The band also enlisted Wetton’s boyhood friend Richard Palmer-James, who replaced Peter Sinfield as Crimson’s lyricist.

“We were at school together and have known each other since we were 12 or 13 years old,” Wetton said of Palmer-James. “We played in a band in Bournemouth together. He used to play guitar, still does. He always had a good way with words… We always kept in contact. There wasn’t really a strong point within the band, the lyrics. I suggested Richard, and everyone said let’s see what he can do. So we gave him three songs from Larks’ Tongues [In Aspic] – ‘Easy Money,’ ‘Book Of Saturday’ and ‘Exiles.’ When they came back, everyone said, “Wow! Let’s go with that.”

“As we progressed and his participation in the band became kind of more cemented and accepted, we got to interact a bit more with more him on the lyric side. There’s a point in ‘Starless’ where it’s half mine and half his. I was kind of emerging at that point,” Wetton said. “I have the utmost respect for Richard. He’s a good man, and some of his lyrics are stunning. The more you get to look into them the more you find [and think]: “You clever bastard. [laughs] I didn’t realize that the first time around.”

- Tomorrow: Writing and Rehearsals for Larks’ Tongues In Aspic, the sound and the Muir factor

  • Share/Bookmark

Between The Buried And Me – The Great Misdirect

Between The Buried And Me The Great Misdirect Between The Buried And Me   The Great Misdirect

So many bands these days are challenged to present a sound that encompasses their diverse influences yet sets them far apart from all that has gone before.  Raleigh, North Carolina’s, Between The Buried And Me are a band that has been able to move forward by discarding labels and paying absolute attention to their muses.  Their 2009 release The Great Misdirect demonstrates their love for not only progressive metal, but also death metal (a genre long avoided by many European pro- metal bands).  They’ve gained wider exposure through touring as the opening act for Dream Theater, but it’s their technical proficiency and urge to push boundaries that’s brought them the most recognition.  The Great Misdirect is easily one of my favorite releases of 2009, and I’d like to share with you some of the elements that set this record far above so many other products in the marketplace at present.

It first must be stated that if the listener can’t get past harshly screamed vocals, they need not investigate the nuances of The Great Misdirect any further.  Death and thrash metal groups have often relied on a different vocal delivery to set their music apart from metal sounds that gain wider acceptance.  In truth, I’ve not always appreciated this sort of “singing” and have only learned to love it more through the decades.  While BTBAM’s vocalist Tommy Rogers is an excellent singer by traditional standards, and does deliver in a more melodic style quite often, he has no reservations about breaking into full scream as the song warrants.  Further, his use of keyboards to set mood and tone contribute greatly to the band’s distinctive sound.  The primitive Korg machines brought to bear are never meant to be the focal sonic texture, but more an addition to round out the performances of the other outstanding musicians in the band.  The CD’s opener, “Mirrors,” is no indication of the heaviness waiting to be unfurled by BTBAM.  At less than 4 minutes in length, it is rather a precursor to the sprawling, 9-minute-plus “Obfuscation.”  “Mirrors” is pure melody and lurking musical discipline.  Guitarists Paul Waggoner and Dusty Waring never move into shred mode, but instead serve to convey the importance of proficiency when working to deliver a message through music.  Bassist Dan Briggs and drummer Blake Richardson fall back on a pseudo jazz rhythm beneath the melody lines and are also well practiced at the art of restraint.  There’s more than an hour of music coming in only six songs.  Paving a path for the listener to follow is crucial and easily mastered by the group.

“Obfuscation” then explodes as Richardson’s drum fills blast loose and the rhythm guitar distortion is unleashed.  Rogers is now screaming the lyrics as if his life depends on it.  The lyrics tell of the need to obscure the greater mysteries of the universe in order for us to survive day to day existence.  Although there are things far greater than us and our trivial concerns in the omnireality, those cosmic complexities cannot be influenced by we tiny humans and they themselves seem small versus matters of hand to mouth existence.  Is it starting to sound like a prog-metal theme to you yet?  If not, the Classical feel as the music divides into movements across the piece will definitely tip you off.  Waggoner’s solos are especially impressive as they siphon their energy from some Middle Eastern/Zappa-fied/Iron Maiden dimension.

The 11-minute “Disease, Injury, Madness” begins as pure death metal; its lyrics presenting death as an embodiment of an encompassing force wiping clean the blot of humanity from all existence.  The music drifts back and forth between brutal thrash and Steve Howe-influenced art rock, never allowing the listener to remain complacent.  The unexpected mid-song breakdown into an inexplicable groove complete with fretless bass soloing and twin guitar harmonies is worth the price of admission alone.  Richardson’s blast beats defy both physics and logic.  Before we can sit comfortably with any of this, “Fossil Genera: A Feed From Cloud Mountain” begins its 12-minute excursion with an old-time piano more akin to something by The Dresden Dolls than a metal outfit.  The walking bassline, guitar power chords and skulking, raspy vocals tell us that uncharted territory is being explored here.  The lyrics this time sing of a conglomerate of heavenly beings that monitor the failures of mankind as they wait to usurp our misused power.  These “night owls” have intervened each time we were about to destroy ourselves and they have then cast spells of pacifism that lull us back into unquestioning comfort.  About nine minutes in, acoustic guitars, pizzicato strings, chiming percussion, plaintive piano, and lovely, distant vocals emerge to help describe the watchers.

The only thing even close to a radio single on the CD is “Desert Of Song.”  The pace is slower, guitars quieter, and vocals sweeter than elsewhere.  Rogers sings of a time when music has vanished from the Earth.  Unlike the disastrous results of trying to reinstate the art in Rush’s “2112”, music is positively restored by BTBAM and the overprotective overlords are overthrown on a song that’s actually rather (gasp!) pretty.

The Great Misdirect closes with the magnum opus “Swim To The Moon.”  At just shy of 18 minutes, BTBAM pull out all the stops and show us everything they’re capable of.  Bell percussion, Robert Fripp-style repetitive guitar lines, guitar effects simulating violins, ridiculous time signatures, complex melody lines duplicating those of Kansas, lightning drum riffs, crushing bass and some of the harshest vocals on the record are all here and popping up only to disappear from measure to measure.  The lyrics are as thought-provoking as those elsewhere, this time dealing with an escape from self-imposed shackles, whether through altering one’s life patterns or slipping into death, symbolized as a “swim to the moon.”

To say that I was blown away by this record is a gross understatement.  I even went so far as to purchase the Deluxe Edition containing a DVD of the making of the record and an on-stage “gear guide” introducing all of the equipment used by the band in their live show.  You may not go nuts like I did, but if any of my descriptions whet your appetite at all; you have to give The Great Misdirect a listen.  The record will be unfairly categorized as a metal release, but that pigeonhole only draws attention to a corner of the masterpiece this band’s created.  Best of 2009?  Perhaps.  Off the top of my head, I can’t think of one that’s better.

- Mark Polzin

  • Share/Bookmark

Parallel Or Ninety Degrees – “A Can Of Worms”

Parallel Or Ninety Degrees \

With recent news that Yorkshire, England’s, unintentionally incognito prog-rock ensemble, Parallel Or Ninety Degrees have reformed for live gigs and studio skullduggery, it’s appropriate that we examine their 2008 collection, A Can Of Worms.  Released on the conveniently named Progrock Records, this double-CD serves as a compilation of highlights from PO90’s five studio albums with previously unreleased material from an aborted experiment named A Kick In The Teeth For Civic Pride.  Although not sequenced chronologically, Worms shows a band blending the best of Dark Side-era Pink Floyd, the least commercial elements of Supertramp, modern drum and bass techno, Radiohead’s dips into electronically enhanced rock, and straight up thrash metal.  It’s as tasty a meal as it reads and warrants not only opening this Can Of Worms but going back for repeated tastes.

Ever a fluid consortium of players, PO90 consistently maintained a unique direction as led by keyboardist/vocalist, Andy Tillison Diskdrive.  His only other bandmate featured on all tracks is fellow keyboardist Sam Baine.  One would think that with two keyboardists at the helm, the music would be a bit airy.  That assumption would be dead wrong; PO90 pushes a sound based around the talents of the various guitarists that have floated in and out of the group.  The complex rhythms and dynamic time changes are not to be discounted either.  PO90 crunches or grooves as necessary behind Diskdrive’s Hammond organ and socially charged lyrics.

Navigating through the two discs (which each max out at around 80 minutes in length), we find the tracks to be mostly longer pieces that never stumble into the regular pitfalls of bad prog — noodling, unnecessary repetition and fantastic lyrical themes.  The good bits are plentiful and come at a pace fast enough to hold attention throughout.  Some that come to mind for this review are found on the title track to their 1999 release, Unbranded.  Guitarist Gareth Harwood deploys in a variety of styles, power-chording atop Diskdrive’s choruses of societal decay, and dropping back in the mix during the verses’ electro-percussion and urgent keyboards.  On 1996’s “The Media Pirates,” from the band’s debut The Corner Of My Room, Diskdrive plays guitar (and likely programs part of the drum track) as he discusses the ongoing battle for control of our information outlets and thought waves.  The recurring vocal theme, “They are watching” fades in and out across the cut’s 10 ½ minutes.  Current guitarist Dan Watts brings the metal down on the set-up to “Petroleum Addicts” from 2001’s More Exotic Ways To Die.  Behind the choruses of discussion regarding the West’s involvement in oil wars, the music is more of a hazy backdrop for Diskdrive.  Watts then transforms unexpectedly into a demonic K.K. Downing/Glenn Tipton hybrid with Pope Iommi II leading us in prayer.  In a puff of smoke, he’s vanished beneath Baine’s electric piano and drummer Alex King’s complications.

Ways To Die was a diverse album as evidenced by the track “Embalmed In Acid”.  More traditional and popular art rock (read: Asia or Genesis) is referenced on this slower, shorter piece.  Diskdrive’s voice is at its peak of emotional delivery.  However, the best may have been saved for last with Disc 2’s closer, “Unforgiving Skies.”  Harwood’s difficult acoustic lines pull from Fragile-era Steve Howe and Robert Fripp’s League Of Crafty Guitarists before revealing a series of stinging electric sections that switch gears like something from a lost Love And Rockets recording.

Just when we think we have mastered our encyclopedic geek knowledge of every dented container on the popular music shelves, we’re surprised to find a brand that’s been lurking way in the back.  I’m not certain how PO90 missed getting its own end cap display, but we’ll be getting a second chance to sample the enigmatic Mr. Diskdrive’s wares with A Can Of Worms and other forthcoming projects.  Have your openers sharpened while you wait.

- Mark Polzin

  • Share/Bookmark

Tuner – “Muut: Live In Estonia 2007″

Tuner \

Pat Mastelotto. Perhaps you aren’t familiar with his name, but trust me you’ve heard him play drums at least 100 times so far in your life.  Even if you weren’t aware that he was the other percussionist alongside Bill Bruford in the “double trio” lineup of King Crimson and onward, you’ve still heard him.  Maybe you’ve somehow dodged his spectacular studio work with XTC, Matthew Sweet, Scandal or The Sugarcubes, but you’ve still heard him.  Now ‘fess up!  You were listening to a lot of radio back in the ’80s and were tapping your toes to “Kyrie” or feigning pained emotion along with “Broken Wings,” both by Mr. Mister.  That was Pat Mastelotto laying down the beats.  Pat now hangs his hat in Austin, Texas, and is still crazy busy like he’s always been.  Amid the numerous studio commitments, live gigs and King Crimson projects, Mastelotto jams with a former student of Robert Fripp in a duo named Tuner.  The other half of Tuner is a German fellow named Markus Reuter.  His story is also interesting.

Reuter is a prolific composer and record producer whose instrument of choice is the Warr, or touch, guitar.  The Warr guitar looks somewhat like a guitar until you notice the width of the neck.  You can play the device with anywhere between seven and 15 strings, and it’s designed to be used in a two-handed tapping technique (much like fellow King Crimson player Tony Levin’s Chapman Stick), but it can also be picked and strummed like a standard electric guitar.  You can also load a Warr guitar with MIDI electronics to trigger synthesizer sounds while also playing the guitar.  Imagine Geddy Lee stomping on his Taurus pedals and throwing in some keyboard licks on his Oberheim while playing his bass and singing and you get the idea.  Only Reuter’s doing all of this at the same time with only one instrument. The Warr guitar is not a device for the weak and Reuter is a master. Put him together with a percussionist as talented as Mastelotto and you have the potential for some serious composition.

Tuner already had two studio albums behind them when they decided to take their show on the road in 2007.  In October, during three dates in Estonia (of all places), they recorded tracks that would evolve into Muut after some additional post-production treatments and digital editing.  All nine pieces on Muut are new compositions, either written for the live performances or created spontaneously.  The longest of these pieces is “Tied Into A Phrase,” which tops 13 minutes.  “Phrase” is dark and rich with varying textures.  Mastelotto’s scattershot fills shake up the persistent boom-boom-bap while Reuter is making the Warr snarl, summon bass sounds, produce a noodly yet clean melody line, whir like a helicopter and punctuate the mix with airy synth-guitar blasts. There are laws against two humans making this many sounds at once, but not in Estonia.  “Rocky Looks Like A Flower” sounds like there’s someone playing a video game just down the hall and around the corner from you. Then Mastelotto gets away from the sampled sounds of Bill Rieflin and Jerry Marotta to take command of the tune.  Reuter takes a back seat to him, or maybe more of a complimentary role, with use of his own percussive noises and the release of sampled voices.  The title cut, at over 11 minutes, is much more of a collaborative effort.  Mastelotto’s rhythm is primal and tribal, and Reuter pulls some new rabbits out of his hat.  He’s running a flute solo and burying an odd-timed metal riff underneath finger-popping upper and lower register notes.  It’s the soundtrack to a Spanish expedition to unconquered South America as they discover sacrificial altars atop a pyramid — just as the natives swarm in for the kill. At least that’s where my head went. I also lost my mind when trying to count the rhythm on “Viljandi Presidential Suite.” High school band class does not prepare us for this sort of mayhem.  Mastelotto and Reuter both finish us off as the drums become even more complex and Reuter bashes us across the forehead with a grinding, metallic eruption.

Tuner continues to produce instrumental music that is extremely visual in its impact. The best music, whether sung or voiceless seeks to accomplish what the duo achieve on Muut. This is a record for which the audience must set aside some time to devote to active listening.  The payoff comes through the pure virtuosity of the musicians.  Bravo for Tuner — the little side-project that could. Austin, Texas, and Germany can’t come together often enough for me.  Hopefully, I don’t have to buy a ticket to Estonia next time around.

- Mark Polzin

  • Share/Bookmark

Richard Barbieri – “Stranger Inside” review

Richard Barbieri \

Former Japan/Rain Tree Crow and current Porcupine Tree keyboardist Richard Barbieri steps out with his second proper solo album Stranger Inside on K Scope Records.  Although this is primarily Barbieri’s show, he is joined by Japan cohort, percussionist Steve Jansen with additional programming and arrangements as well as mixing duties.  Porcupine Tree front man Steven Wilson mastered the recording, lending his unique sonic sensibilities to the project.  Barbieri also employs vocal samples courtesy of his wife Suzanne and no-man leader Tim Bowness.

Those familiar with Barbieri’s work will instantly recognize the textures of his synthesizer mastery.  There is a darkness prevalent throughout that lures the listener rather than repels.  At first listen, you’ll believe you’re spinning a lost collection of ambient incidental theme music from some recent yet overlooked sci-fi film.  Barbieri’s control of rhythm and tone, however, produce a record that’s far too engaging for simple background music.  The musician is the secret weapon deployed by fellow artists ranging from Robert Fripp to David Sylvian to the aforementioned Porcupine Tree.  Stranger Inside lets the cat out of the bag and whets our appetite for future collaborations.

- Mark Polzin

  • Share/Bookmark

Supersister – Present From Nancy review

supersister present from nancy Supersister   Present From Nancy review

If you looked at the passports of the members of Supersister in 1970, it would declare them citizens of the Netherlands. The glorious music they made on Present From Nancy and subsequent recordings, however, was seemingly from another planet. This four piece outfit – Robert Jan Stips (keyboards), Sacha van Geest (flute), Ron van Eck (bass) and Marco Vrolijk (drums) – made a near perfect album by incorporating camp, humor and the bizarre into a structural framework where nearly everything goes, but it all made sense. Present From Nancy is Supersister’s debut, and it stands as one of the most realized and individualistic efforts of the progressive rock genre. It’s not hyperbole to say these guys covered all the bases, from Canterbury to Stockhausen. The recent reissue by my friends at Esoteric Recordings brings it all around again while upping the ante with four bonus tracks.

The jazzy “Introduction” sounds like the meeting of Dave Brubeck and early Jethro Tull, while the following title track continues with more of the Brubeck vibe, although with a heavy dose of electric keyboards. “Memories Are Now” finds the band flying through the cosmos experimenting with sound as if they can’t wait to discover the next effect. “11/8” is a delirious vamp across a time-warp rhythm with some particularly nasty sounding guitar. Imagine if the Moody Blues had Robert Fripp in the band, and you’ll get some idea of the beautiful chaos here. Just as things seem to be skidding out of control, the ’Sisters pull back with the introspective, organ-driven instrumental “Dreaming Wheelwhile.” So you think you have it all figured out now? Just wait, as “Corporation Combo Boys” pays homage to The Mothers of Invention, with a curious a capella opening that slides into a Halloween-ish band groove and vocal. “Mexico” brings the mellotron front and center in high drama, sounding like some lost soundtrack for a science fiction thriller. Jan Stip’s keyboards never fail to entertain, and the bass work by van Eck is superb. “Metamorphosis” follows with a, frankly, unsettling and pounding drum beat that repeats until it achieves a locomotive-like effect. “Dona Nobis Pacem” is a solemn and beautiful keyboard piece, with an almost religious overtone, displaying again Jan Stips’ remarkable breadth and imagination. But it’s not all serious, as the boys break loose with a circus-like dance-around just as you thought you were settling in for vespers.

The four bonus tracks that follow are an absolute delight. “Spiral Staircase” is a surreal narrative, equal parts Syd Barrett and Alice In Wonderland, with my favorite Supersister line of all time, “The tea tasted delicious, and I drank several cups of it.” You have to hear to appreciate. “She Was Naked” sounds like a lost Caravan track, with some lovely flute work and bizarre lyrics, opening with “She looked like instant pudding, It was the cream of the commercial increase.” Curious, but it works! It then takes off into something of a Focus-esque vocal and a wild instrumental ride, with some amazing sounds coming from Jan Stips’ keys. You’ll swear there’s an electric guitar being played. “Fancy Nancy” is an equally bizarre takeoff on “Don’t Be Cruel.” Imagine a Dutch Elvis impersonator crooning to whatever! And it caps with “Gonna Take Easy,” a light-hearted psychedelic rocker.

Present From Nancy
is great fun, funny, warm and infectious. Listen once and you’ll be hooked.

  • Share/Bookmark

Danny Brill – Better Late Than Never

Danny Brill

Keyboardist Danny Brill’s story parallels so many other musicians’: He began playing piano as a child but would find his musical inspiration during his college days, catching the top bands of the day. Seeing one act particularly – Emerson, Lake & Palmer – greatly influenced the direction of Brill’s music then…and now.

After playing in several progressive rock bands in the 1970s, but without making any real noise, Brill eventually gave up performing, turning his efforts to a keyboard rental business in New York City. Ah, but the call of music never quite goes away, and a few years ago, Brill started writing and playing again – more of a side hobby than anything. Upon hearing Brill’s recent material, friend and drummer Michael Sciotto encouraged him to go the distance and record an album. The spark was struck, and the two were off, sharing the producing role. They brought in a few heavyweights – bassist Tony Levin, vocalist Ian Lloyd and guitarist Nick Moroch – to add some additional punch, and over the course of three years, laid down the ten songs that comprise this album.

The resulting disc, Better Late Than Never, is a romp through Brill’s progressive-rock influences – with nods to early masters such as ELP, King Crimson and Yes – but it also demonstrates firmly his compositional skills and slightly twisted lyrical sense. I’m sure Brill has chops galore, but he seems most interested in creating melody and weaving textures of sound together to create songs rather than showing off. His backing musicians get a chance to shine, whether it’s the aforementioned Sciotto laying down a groove or Brill letting his children Jessie and Keith in on the fun (playing cello, narrating and screaming!).

The opening track, “Baker’s Dozen,” is a case in point. It features a myriad of old-school, analog keyboard sounds along with some terrific guitar from Moroch, who deftly weaves between the stylings of Robert Fripp and Allan Holdsworth. As well, Levin (seen below) adds his always-amazing touches via the bass and Chapman Stick.

Tony Levin

“Double Feature” is a two-part tune, contrasting beauty and the beast – in this case Cyclops and David – musically and lyrically. The keyboards on “Part 1 – Cyclops,” trumpet and thunder in vintage ELP style, while “Part II – David,” is a breezy ride with some lovely flute colorings by Laura Dreyer. Brill again tips his synth cap to Keith Emerson (to whom the CD is dedicated) on the appropriately grand themed “Fanfare And Processional,” a modern-day “Fanfare For The Common Man,” if you will. “Yes It Is, No It’s Not,” sounds like a lost Yes track, while “Prelude/Demented” is a jazzy/proggy reworking of a Maurice Ravel piano prelude. Moroch, again, shines here with an imaginative and gritty solo. My favorite track is “Images In The Rain,” a foggy, atmospheric instrumental featuring Brill’s daughter Jessie on cello. The closer, “Son Of Bunsen Burner,” is a scary tale of science-gone-wrong, a government-funded virus that escapes from the lab and rains down ills upon mankind. The ever-adaptable Moroch unleashes another wicked solo, a la Steve Vai, on the outro.

A fine first, if not long-belated, effort from Brill. I look forward to hearing more.

(photos courtesy of Lori Hehr Public Relations).

  • Share/Bookmark

 Powered by Max Banner Ads 
Buy VerizonCell Phones and Save. | Thanks to Bank Rates & Reviews, CD Rates and UK Loan