This record took me a while to get into. It just isn't the same without Francesco's vocals, and the fact that it isn't even a proper studio album and is instead a soundtrack album made me listen to this album only once or twice when I discovered Banco and their music. I did end up giving it repeated listens over the past weeks, but it goes to show how much they lost with this record. Overall it feels bland and uninspiring, to say the least, just a collection of low-effort instrumental tracks with not a whole lot going on. Also, the songs are way too short, with a large portion of them being around two minutes long. I understand that this wasn't some major effort by the band because, as I mentioned before, it was for a movie soundtrack, but I was still hoping for at least something. Moving on, the personnel remains the same as their last album, Banco. Vittorio and Gianni Nocenzi on keyboards, Pier Luigi Calderoni on drums, Rodolfo Maltese on guitars, Renato D'Angelo on bass, and the face of the group, Francesco Di Giacomo, simply listed on "Documentazione" (documentation in English).

The actual music sounds similar to Profondo Rosso by Goblin, but without the big hits. Some of my favorites include Zobeida, 10 Giugno 1924, Esterno Notte (Casa Di Giovanna), and Suggestioni Di Un Ritorno In Campagna. These songs just have a driving rhythm that stands out from the others while they are accompanied by unique and interesting solos. Apart from that, other songs mainly don't have the normal rock instrumentation. Sometimes they are also, again, too short and don't have a major impact on me. Lack of energy also seems to be another problem, with the band not playing the normal fast, hard-rocking, emotional, or uplifting music of prior albums, and instead they sound lifeless in this album. Other than all of that, there just really isn't that much to say about this record. It could definitely have some work on it, and maybe if they had more time to work on it, they could've come out with something a little better instead of this. It just hurts to see Banco fall so much from the masterpieces they were making in 1972 and 1973.

In conclusion, this is easily the weakest Banco Del Mutuo Soccorso album up until this point. It's supposed to get better with Come In Un 'Ultima Cena and Di Terra, but I listened to those albums only a few times a while ago, so I'm going to have to spend some time with them before writing my reviews for them. Now, this album by me would probably be a mid 3.25/5.

When a band decides to disappear for a long period after releasing two excellent albums, those early works take on an almost mythical status and become references and even a kind of emotional memory, because deep down it seems that no one really believes that something of that caliber can be repeated. But then, when that same band decides to reappear after nearly two decades, it is inevitable, at least for me, that everything will sound like nothing more than an echo of the past.

The thing is that "Viljans 'ga" is not Hybris and does not even try to be. It does not sound similar and it does not provoke that immediate shock of the debut, nor does it catch anyone off guard like it did in 1992. Even so, the quality and beauty that turned 'nglag'rd into a progressive icon of the 1990s are still clearly there. OK, perhaps less naive and less impetuous, after all the musicians have matured, but that matters less than one essential detail, namely the fact that the magic still exists

When 'nglag'rd first emerged, it was pure boldness, the kind of band that embraced every possible risk and dove headfirst before even checking whether there was water in the pool. Here you can feel that they think more carefully about each step and measure their movements better, yet without losing their classic style, where the dissonances clearly inspired by King Crimson still cause that good, almost uncomfortable sense of unease, along with melodies that remain capable of transporting the listener to gray Scandinavian afternoons

When I went to listen to the album for the first time, I did so with some reservations, and I admit that at no point did I think it could live up to the masterful work that was Hybris. That debut always seemed unreachable to me, the kind of thing that appears once and then becomes untouchable. Comparing anything to it feels unfair, but track by track that certainty began to crumble, not abruptly, but slowly and almost stealthily. When I realized it, I was completely wrong in absolutely every respect.

"Viljans 'ga" does not work as a late copy, nor as a well executed exercise in nostalgia, because it simply asserts itself on its own merits. It is a genuine masterpiece that has no need for asterisks or justifications, placing itself naturally among the definitive progressive albums of this more modern phase of the genre. Not because it tries to reinvent everything, but because it deeply understands its own language, and perhaps that is exactly where the omen of what is still to come lies when listening to "Vijans Og'", a real sense that the more you listen, the more it seems to expand and reveal layers that do not give themselves up at first.

"Petali di fuoco" is La Maschera di Cera's fourth studio album and was released in 2009 on the independent Immaginifica label, produced by Franz Di Cioccio. It features a renewed line up featuring Alessandro Corvaglia (vocals), Maurizio Di Tollo (drums, percussion, guitar), Agostino Macor (keyboards), Andrea Monetti (flute), Matteo Nahum (guitars) and Fabio Zuffanti (bass, bass pedals). It is a remarkable work in which compositional skill and visionary poetry give life to musical structures and melodic lines of absolute beauty, using vintage sounds and atmospheres to evoke timeless themes and emotions...

The beautiful and heartfelt opening track, "Fino all'aurora" (Until Dawn), is a song of hope and rebirth dedicated to all those who find the strength to live by resisting life's tragedies. The music and lyrics describe the furious force of the sea battering a coastal town, causing death and devastation. At dawn, the protagonist's world no longer exists, swept away along with the faces and smiles of loved ones swallowed up by the night. Past and future of the protagonist vanished in an instant. But now it's time to rebuild on the rubble and blood to continue living...

"D-Sigma" is the snapshot of an emotional short circuit where the delirious protagonist feels lost in the crowd. His heart is pounding while his world is falling apart. He experiences a timeless nostalgia while visions of burning cathedrals rising into the sky and trains departing for the cosmos appear in his mind...

The calm and dreamy "4.18" is a short instrumental piece for solo acoustic guitar, written and performed by drummer Maurizio Di Tollo. It's a pleasant interlude that precedes the emotional storm of the next track, "Discesa" (Descent), an intense and rhythmically complex piece that describes a transcendental experience. The protagonist approaches the centre of a room and a trapdoor opens before him. He looks into the void where he sees a white vortex and at the bottom of the spiral a forest of arms reaching out to grab him. The protagonist loses his balance and falls down. In the abyss, the protagonist frees himself from his social conditioning and completely loses all sense of time and space. The arms of Time cradle him and free him from fear and pain, giving him an infinite sense of freedom and peace. But suddenly the white light disappears and the protagonist finds himself in the dark, surrounded by mirrors, with a strong sense of anguish growing within him...

"Between Two Petals of Fire" is a beautiful, slow piece, rich in nuances, that opens with the sound of an acoustic guitar arpeggio. The atmosphere is dreamy and tinged with melancholy. The music and lyrics describe the protagonist, a man lost in the fog, tired and blank-eyed, feeling as if time has stopped around him. Suddenly, a still white light appears before him. Confused, the protagonist tries to touch the light, but it eludes him. He chases after it and feels alive again. Seeing itself being chased, the light stops, and in the darkness something comes to life. A dance between two petals of fire. The protagonist follows the light through the flames in an endless embrace. Finally, the light soars toward the sky and vanishes...

"L'inganno" (The deception) opens with a dark bass line. It's a beautiful song where music and lyrics describe the tormented awakening of the protagonist, a man dissatisfied with his reality who seeks refuge in dreams. After a night spent chasing his dreams, his dark room appears to him like an illusion the next morning and he doesn't recognise his own face in the mirror: in the dream, he was a different man. Now his hands move in the void, digging in the mud in search of someone and something that isn't there. Eventually, reality and the present of his imploding world can no longer restrain him as he flies back toward the dream...

"Agli uomini che sanno gi� volare" (To the men who already know how to fly) is a delicate ballad drenched in melancholic sweetness. Here, the music and lyrics evoke a dying father's final message to his son. Now his place is among the stars, invisible but finally free and without regrets. His is a farewell that isn't eternal and at the same time a warning to his son not to give up in the face of life's difficulties...

"Il declino" (The decline) is a visionary and cryptic piece that describes the passage of time and the slow decline of a once-powerful man, now withered and mad, for whom the end of his earthly journey seems almost a liberation. The music, especially the piano parts, can at times recall Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, but the compositional skills are remarkable and never fall into overly predictable stylistic devices. This piece is seamlessly linked to the following track, "Phoenix", where the music seems to convey a breath of optimism and a hope of rebirth...

The final track, "La notte trasparente" (The Transparent Night), is another excellent piece describing a man trapped between the mirrors of his room, waiting for someone or something that can give him back the world that was his and helping him emerge from a deep personal crisis. The music and lyrics intertwine to embroider the emotions of a real dream that can set the protagonist free...

On the whole, a great album and a must-have for every Italianprog lover!

While reading reviews about albums that came out in 2018, I stumbled on this one. Petrichor kicks thngs off with the epic title-track which features most of the time a mesmerizing acoustic theme with some occasional heavier up to blastbeat parts as well. It becomes obvious right from the get-go that the influence of Steven Wilson is present or should I say omnipresent. The Nest of Evil begins with a very interesting riff before things go back to the Steven Wilson setup both as regards songwriting and singing. It truly sounds as a bonus track from The Raven That Refused to Sing. If there was some interest in the first two songs, although hardly original, Snivel by the Pond is a total flop. The parts where the music consists only of an acoustic guitar with the vocals over it sounding flat, and even forced when he tries to hit some higher notes, are horrible. When the other instruments join in (only for a short amount of time) it becomes a bit better, but I scratch my head how the aforementioned parts were deemed acceptable. On Terence, the acoustic guitar is, once again, the most captivating thing I hear. The chorus reminds me of a childish song. On the final track it becomes obvious that Victor Miranda Martin's voice doesn't possess the quality to make a song stand out and he should have at least avoided singing when the music almost stops. Plus the ending where he tremolo picks a single note on the guitar is totally two-a-penny.

I had high hopes about this one, just by looking at the cover, the positive reviews I had read and the very first minutes I listened to it. I really can't hear anything special. Once again, when it comes to a one-man-band things rarely can work well since there is no team effort and the input is one-dimentional and it is even rarer for a single person to be an accomplished performer on multiple instruments (including the vocals), composer and producer. By the way, it can't be considered that the album was written by a man only since Steven Wilson might well claim rights for the songwriting. It is almost a total rip off.

Hmm... tricky one. On the one hand, the band are in top form, which means that solos and ensemble play on spirited tracks like 'Apollo' and 'Oblivion' are carried out with panache. On the other hand, the 'Big Big Train Brass Ensemble' has now disappeared and the band has to make do with just one lead guitarist, which means their sound is much thinner than on their previous live album, A FLARE ON THE LENS (2024).

BBT classics like 'A Mead Hall in Winter' and 'The Transit of Venus Across the Sun' almost sound as thrilling as they used to under David Longdon, but I've got real trouble with current lead singer Alberto Bravin's shoutiness. In quieter passages (the opening lines of 'Rebreather', for example) Bravin sounds fine, but whenever he raises his voice (e.g. in passages such as 'Run, boys, run!') he seems an unhappy mixture of, erm, Bono and Uriah Heep's David Byron. I can't help thinking much of BBT's dignity is now gone. (Bravin also treats us to an Ian Gillan-type scream during Mead Hall's fast instrumental passage, which made me jump the first time I heard it.)

Are Big Big Train gradually turning into an AOR band? Tracks like the 18-minute 'Beneath the Masts' (just as thrilling here as it was on THE LIKES OF US) still give me hope... As a great admirer of albums like FOLKLORE and ENGLISH ELECTRIC, I'm curious what the band will do next.

Review #24

Jonas Lindberg & The Other Side is a progressive rock project from Stockholm, Sweden, founded in 2012 by bassist, songwriter, and producer Jonas Lindberg. The band's history actually dates back to 2008, but I only became aware of Lindberg's music about two years ago when I discovered the studio album "Miles From Nowhere" (a must-listen!), released in 2022. At the time, I was impressed by the symphonic prog style and the extraordinary quality of the compositions. The question now was whether "Times Frames" could generate the same level of enthusiasm... With a running time of 70 minutes spread over seven tracks, the Swedish composer presents us with a wonderful compilation of songs, all of which have a very positive feel to them in terms of their basic structure. "Time Frames" is therefore not a heavy, dark prog album from Scandinavia (as one might expect from other bands), but fortunately makes use of a certain lightness in its compositional style, which I find very pleasant and cheerfully airy.

Lindberg uses many major chords in his songs, which are often complemented by tasteful and excellently composed pop vocal melodies. When the melodies end, the instruments take over and present a very successful mix of progressive sounds, rock edges, and warm acoustic guitar interludes. The music always strikes a balance between warm pop melodies in the vocals, progressive tones in the instruments, and rock edges in the basic orientation of each song. The first song, "End Of The Road," is a twelve-minute journey through the world of symphonic prog, paired with vibrations that remind me of Neal Morse, which should only be taken as a compliment. The ballad "Someone Like Me" captivates with a sensational vocal melody and showcases Lindberg's voice at its best. The instrumental piece 'Gruvan' allows the band to blossom fully before the album ends once again in typical prog fashion with the 17-minute long track "The Wind." Once again, I ask myself why I like Lindberg's music so much. As a composer, he impresses with first-class songs that focus more on the heart and soul of prog music and less on technique, even though we get to hear many wonderful solos on "Time Frames." Lindberg is also absolutely thrilling as a producer?the album comes across as transparent, dense, and powerful. In addition to Jonas Lindberg, the other musicians involved in the project are also impressive.

With "Time Frames," Jonas Lindberg & The Other Side have released a fantastic prog album that seamlessly follows on from the success of its predecessor. I have just one wish for the next album: perhaps the project could venture into one or two small experiments to further expand their style.

After the turbulent years of the Mahavishnu Orchestra, plus the various collaborations with Tony Williams and Miles Davis, and the fact that a decade was ending in many ways...the way of composing, the way of recording, Electric Guitarist was for me like a kind of first recounting, a first nostalgic look and at the same time a provisional farewell to a way of playing that would go into recess.

The cover already evokes childhood and dreams... and the musicians on the album, almost a dream team of the fusion scene of that decade that was drawing to a close... function for me like a photo album... there's Tony Williams from Tony Williams Lifetime, Jack Bruce, with whom he also shared many albums, both his own and others', in the early days, Billy Cobham and Jerry Goodman from Mahavishnu, Carlos Santana from his collaborative projects in the mid-decade, and of course colleagues who, like him, emerged from the ranks of Miles Davis's band, Chick Corea as well as Jack DeJohnette... and many more, including emerging figures like Patrice Rushen. Past, present, and future, many colorful fragments to weave a tapestry that might seem bohemian like Carole King's Tapestry, but in reality, it's about the group of friends with whom he had written his musical history up to that year, 1978.

I think it's good that the tribute isn't nostalgic in the sense of trying to exactly replicate the past...because as much as I love the raw energy of Mahavishnu's first incarnation in the early 70s...1978 was very different, and doing the same thing would have felt out of place. "New York on My Mind" sounds modern and at the same time a classic violin jazz-rock track, which, true to John's style, moves back and forth in shifting rhythms. Besides Billy Cobham and Jerry Goodman, Fernando Saunders played bass, who would later appear on many of Lou Reed's classic albums.

Friendship reminds us of that era brimming with spirituality, of Hinduism set to music, though here in a less savage version of Love, Devotion and Surrender. The late 70s were a sophisticated time, at least in this corner of fusion, without sacrificing the quality and virtuosity that were once considered undesirable. Santana had already made this transition successfully with Amigos, and here he collaborates with Tom Coster on organ and Alyrio Lima and Armando Peraza on percussion. The best part is when we recognize each guitarist's solo; it's meant to be listened to in a relaxed way, not with gritted teeth : a celebration of friendship, as the title suggests. When John plays those typical jazz rock riffs on his guitar (the same ones Chick Corea played on the keyboard), the song takes on an extra dimension.

Every Tear from Every Eye, with David Sanborn on saxophone, Patrice Rushen on piano, and Alphonso Johnson on bass, sounds a bit more playful, more experimental in the sense that they are building the theme while searching for the melody. We hear another version of John, more subtle, doing duets with Sanborn and Rushen, redefining the rules of fusion once again, almost as if it were the soundtrack to an early Scorsese street film.

Do You Hear the Voices that You Left Behind? with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, and Jack DeJohnette starts slowly, subtly, and achieves something rare in jazz: feeling, as if it were a new jazz standard, suitable to be played in a thousand and one ways, because when they speed up the melody is one of the wildest and most virtuosic and then the slow central melody is beautiful and could even be sung!, the title continues to refer to this remembering...but without nostalgia.

Are You the One? Are You the One? featuring Jack Bruce and Tony Williams, the lineup of Turn It Over, and a jam session with that unmistakable bass sound that almost seems to speak...plus Tony's ineffable drumming that weaves the foundation, and the vocals that almost sound like rapping before it was even called that. With a freshness born of improvisation and a demonstration that new things could still be done in that groundbreaking year of 1978.

Phenomenon: Compulsion, a duet of duets with John and Billy Cobham, and those races where they chased each other, and there may be two of them...but they sounded like a quintet. My Foolish Heart, as you might expect, is just guitar, a very calm and reflective melody, but an electric guitar, those seductive notes almost like Tom Waits' Blue Valentines, that invite you to dream and remember looking to the future; who you are is partly because of the past, and only by reconciling with that can you move forward...

After a debut that drew attention in 1992, two years later Anglagard returned with their second album, "Epilog". At first glance, the most evident difference between Hybris and this work lies in maturity. "Epilog" sounds more self-aware, which in theory is usually seen as a natural and even desirable step for any band. But, curiously, for me the feeling here is not quite that simple.

One of the things that always fascinated me about Hybris was precisely its so-called musical innocence. With it came a sense of freedom that felt almost carefree, as if the band did not really care about how many influences they were carrying. Everything appeared mixed together and carefully stitched, but without that anxious need to prove something. It was an organized chaos, full of ideas that fit together with precision, without a single extra chord or anything sounding out of place.

On "Epilog", the band's sound is clearly more developed, and it is easy to notice that they have polished their own language, refined their choices, and adjusted excesses. The influences are still there, and attentive listeners can catch echoes of King Crimson and Genesis hovering around the compositions, but now they feel more distant and less obvious, filtered through a musicality that is firmer and more confident, while also being less dependent on direct references.

That added strength, however, comes with a small loss. Even while maintaining an extremely high level of quality, some of that naive charm from "Hybris" was left behind. It is as if the band traded the freshness of discovery for the safety of experience. Of course, the result remains excellent, with everything very well constructed, dense, and engaging, just different.

Still, setting comparisons with the debut aside for a moment, "Epilog" continues to impress for another reason, through its compositions, which remain almost mathematically complex. Nothing sounds accidental, and every turn, time change, and silence seems carefully calculated, as if the band were constantly playing with structures while dismantling and rebuilding ideas with a cold precision.

The six members show, without much apparent effort, that they are exceptional musicians on their respective instruments. There is no gratuitous showmanship, but there is also no excessive restraint, since whenever someone steps into the spotlight, it is because the music demands it, not because there is a need to prove virtuosity. That makes a significant difference. The album conveys a sense of total command over its own territory, as if everyone knows exactly how far they can go, and just as importantly, when to stop.

Twelfth Night are one of the primary and most important bands of the 80s neo-progressive rock revival, frequent performers at the iconic Marquee venue, and a fairly recognizable act from that period that had unfortunately never been able to achieve that sort of mass popularity even in the progressive scene. 'Smiling at Grief' happens to be their first album-length release of original material, originally released as a cassette in 1982 and later on reissued in various formats under the so-called "definitive" or "expanded" editions, which is why it is also often seen as the band's debut studio effort. As a band accustomed to changing vocalists rather often, 'Smiling at Grief' happens to be Twelfth Night's first outing with then-new lead singer Geoff Mann, perhaps the most charismatic frontman they've had, who is also the symbol of their most artistically significant period.

As for the album itself, it is an interesting compilation of low-budget recordings in various styles, indicating that the band had been exploring their musical interests rather widely at that time, not necessarily looking for one genre to settle for, but rather chasing a dynamic kind of rock music that incorporates elements from various popular movements at the time. In this regard, 'Smiling at Grief' features excellent songs like the iconic neo-prog suite 'Creepshow', perhaps the group's most moving composition, with its sinister undertones and delightful Genesis references in the guitar work, the new wave number 'East of Eden', which is one of the better songs appearing on here, the emotive synth-laden 'This City', and the fast-paced rocker 'The Honeymoon is Over', all of which appear in the first half of the album. What follows is a sequence of less-appealing and somewhat shallow art rock tracks like 'Three Dancers' and 'Kindergarten'. At the same time, funky instrumental 'Fur Helene Pt. II' and the overly dramatic song 'Puppets' seem to be slightly better than the rest of side two. There is a glimmering and anxious post-punk dynamic here that shapes this record as a very timely collection, and while the stylistic variety is commendable, the sound quality and the production on 'Smiling at Grief' are definitely on the primitive side, so much that even subsequent remasters haven't been able to completely rid the record off its amateurish sheen.

"Eternal Days"

I bought this record on a whim after hearing a small sample online. It was something I thought sounded promising but after a year of it sitting on my shelf, I finally decided to give it a spin. Being from 2021, I must admit that I really didn't expect much since modern prog seems to be mainly misses over hits; but I was pleased when this album was coming to a close. So pleased in fact, I made the decision to write a review while the final track was still playing. I played the album once again before writing this review.

The album is never loud, and it never does too much. One of the main problems with modern prog is that it tends to overdo dynamics. It's as if the artists go in with a checklist of what they think a prog album should contain. This work is symphonic in every sense of the word, the "rock" in prog takes a bit of a back seat in the latter half of the album but that might be for the best as I consider tracks four through seven to be the highlights of this album. The biggest strengths here are its consistency of mood, diversity of melodies and very sonically pleasing acoustic instrumentation.

The first three tracks are the weakest but they are by no means throwaways. Track one is definitely the "hardest" as it contains the most use of overdriven guitar. Track two really drives the mood home with some hauntingly pretty vocals and a piano scale that hovers over them in such a way as to really establish a surreal mood. It's like the music wants to take you on journey through some fantasy dreamscape only to then present you with the fear of the inexplicable through its sparse use of guitar phrases in minor keys. Track three almost feels like a sea chanty at first until it opens up into a folky piece that is once again peppered with vocals that sound like a siren is vocalizing from some distant island. This back and forth between hopeful melody and a haunting sense of yearning leaves the album searing with identity. There are no words in these pieces, by the way, only vowels being sung.

Track four opens up with a dark piano melody which drives us into the heart and soul of the album. This is quite a long track, clocking in at twelve minutes. Now, I often scoff when musicians of lesser caliber try to write a piece longer than five minutes, but Jose Ledesma proves he is above them by writing a thoroughly engaging song that is more than twice that length. There is great instrumentation all the way through (this band really knows how to play); the movements do not feel repetitive and they flow into each other very naturally.

The rest of the album retains that same great mood while throwing new and distinct melodies at the listener. The final track clocks in at fourteen minutes and is definitely the best track here. Its instrumentation is some of the best I've heard in modern prog and the subtlety of it all tops it off. The horns at minute four feel so natural, despite them never having featured in any other track. The journey culminates here and without any flashy solos or catchy hooks the album ends on its strongest note.

Don't get me wrong, it is nothing groundbreaking but just incredibly solid music that deserves to be heard. These musicians know that less is more. It is subtle and relaxing and at times a little bit haunting.