This delectable UK band was among the top 25 recordings for 2023’s PROG ROGUE list, a very rare event for a debut release, as “Beyond Tomorrow “just stunned many a prog reviewer into complete agreement. Four veteran and highly gifted musicians who had us pundits scouring the floor for our collective jaws (end leftover ears), let me introduce them now: The mercurial Carola Baer is a fine pearl of a vocalist with a slight Janis Joplin modulation that fits the bluesy prog style to perfection, her keyboard work being equally irresistible. Together with stellar lead guitarist Dave Salsbury, bassist and sound guru Ian Turner, as well as Adam Perry handling the percussive slant, Carola composes some glittering pieces of music with a careful eye on the current state of the human condition, which is often nothing much to smile about. Well, what else is new? Humankind can simply not fit into their skin without this inane propensity for making life a miserable exercise, often resorting to complaining, whining and bitching about a wide variety of issues, which in itself is not necessarily a bad thing, except bogging down into opinion peddling does not often lead to solutions. Thankfully, there is music that can still effectively heal so many ills and pains through opening one’s eyes and at the very least, see clearly. This is a concept album that should be investigated as an entire one-hour tirade on our human weaknesses, individually and collectively.
The band irresistibly attacks the emotional jugular on the sensational “Juliet”, Carola ostensibly blinded by rage, her pained and shrouded voice an immediate highlight, her ongoing ability to continually and effortlessly climb the power ladder as Salsbury, Turner and Perry elevate the arrangement to hitherto unconceivable pinnacles of sound, nothing ‘fancy-shmancy’, just pure glittering, molten and bluesy lava. The rippling axe solo stamps the crimson wax on the deal seal. A surely ideal concert opener, shepherding the audience into the imminent sonic adventure. The anti-war melancholy remains tight to the vest on the hugging “Arms of Love”, a forlorn, misty spoken word intro and shimmering piano from Carola, Dave licking his blue wounds, and the Turner and Perry duo handling the undertow with manifest authority. There is almost a cold gothic mood, carved apart by an earnest vocal full of trembling exasperation, a call for peace and ultimate coexistence.
Slight change of pace, in that the bass takes the leadership role here, guiding what sounds like a perfect segue to the preceding dark sensibility, “Alice Come Home “, the ongoing search for a Wonderland, as if the famed tale is on par with a utopian Shangri-La, sadly still remaining nothing more than a fantasy. Home is where the heart is. The atmosphere wallows further in sombre realms, reflection on the grave times we currently face, “Blood on Water” relates to ‘holding in esteem the golden apple of our time, connect to the light of life’, a keyboard dense arrangement that illustrates the brutal realities of human failure. All these amazing opportunities to progress, wasted on extreme agenda taking over the loudspeakers and urging us to abject negativity. Problems galore, no time at all for solutions, my battery needs to recharge. Plug in and forget. Companion piece “Social Disaster” is a highlight track, a rambling outrage at the icy cold and calculated oppression, where values vanish daily, where confusion, bitterness and even surrender are at the forefront, fuelling division and conflict. ‘Walking on thin ice and the road to shame’, she exhorts frantically. And we have progressed? Really? Maybe in technology but not much else. The guitars rasp, the keyboards grind, the bass carves deep, and the percussion is intransigently concussive. Dave launches into a phosphorescent solo that burns uncontrollably, as Carola wails at all the injustice. No respite on “Easy Feels”, the brooding electronics only adding a futuristic feel that does not bode well for hopeful imagery. When two repeated words like ‘How Long’ are used with such anguish, its not because the Internet is slow! Unhappy voice, depressed piano, forlorn pulse, as the arrangement rises in angst and submission, the blazing fretboard particularly on fire, grey gothic clouds on the horizon, cold Valhalla winds blowing in.
The need to switch it up only slightly is gracefully offered on the lengthier 8 minute + “Chronicles of A Celestial Soul”, maintaining the darker and overbearing gloom on the entire proceedings, with a tortuous arrangement that crushes any resistance to being indifferent to the message. ‘Where is Heart, where is Justice’, well good luck with that quest, resulting mostly in failure throughout the centuries! We remain a primitive life form. Maybe doomed forever more. The instrumental work is extraordinary, especially with Adam Perry athletically scaling all kinds of rhythmic heights to give the others the juice necessary to spew out their inner expressions to the fullest. Breathtaking.
“Maker of Me” is a personal appeal to either a parent or an influential person that did not fulfill the wanted needs. An ode to lack of connection or even miscommunication in a gentler oasis in the middle of the ocean, perhaps influencing the magnificent cover art. Darn, that voice is sooooo special, dripping with pent-up emotion.
Coming across like a glorious reminder of flowery times far in the past, the Janis Joplin feel of “Run Rabbitt” is apparent, a bluesy rock and roll anthem with something to say, easily imaginable in a live setting, the crowd swaying to the lilting melody. Its definitely escapist, urging freedom, liberation and sunshine. A positive message, yet still troubled, panacea not yet delivered. Carola wails like a person possessed, the rust dirty guitar almost Neil Young-esque, a truly fantastic song. Having slowed down to mull things over, breathless, “Nothing Left To Say” is a testimony on how loving someone can leave one speechless, where perhaps silence is now golden. Deeply reflective, sorrowful, and introspective, a hard and often bitter life lesson. Carola bellows with unchecked power, as the guitar twirls like whirling dervish, in another realm altogether. Bluesy prog-rock at its finest, shiver me timbers! I have nothing more to say.
A fitting finale, “This Garden” perhaps epitomizes all the intrinsic qualities of this incredible powerful and disturbing release (not really releasing but rather revealing, lots of inner pain). The ornate piano and hushed voice plaintively reflect on the universe of eternity, the pace ethereal and galactic, the upward spiraling vortex guiding us towards some perpetual light, a revelation of what the spirit demands of thinking artists who aim higher than all the worthless banter that currently engulfs our ‘modern’ age. Enlightenment cannot come without wisdom.
This album is not a playful joyride, laden with pretty pastoral inanities, flaky discourse or false pretenses. It’s a tough listen, one that echoes certain realities, the utter frailty of the human spirit, bruised and beaten into submission by endless algorithmic assaults. This band has most definitely arrived!
5 carmine oceans
