The Solaris keyboardist is back with a colossal 2 CD package, a most welcome surprise as this effort includes the terrific guitarist from East, János Varga showing off his considerable mettle throughout. Also on board are a few members of the Solaris crew, namely Attila Kollár on flute and László Gömör on the drums. Robert has been there since the beginning, so in many ways, this should be viewed and heard as another Solaris release.
CD 1: After a brief English language narration and introduction, “Waves of Rage“ stretches out into the internal universe with a nearly 13-minute opus, an expertly chiseled monument of creative progressive rock, unhurried and texturally sound. Issuing a wide panorama of colliding breaks, bickering contrasts and mettlesome interplay really sets the controls to the heart of the cortex, with more swerves than the Monte Carlo Formula One Grand Prix. Flutes abound, together with chatty guitars, argumentative keyboards, a viscous bass and quarrelsome drums, as well as scattering vocal gales from Zsuzsa Ullmann that confound any expectations, within densely occipital material supported by temporal melodies. The final section certainly does the irritated title justice! Welcome to his frazzled brain.
A tad shorter comes “Absurd Dance“, another opportunity to insert playful humour into the mix, a world where a boogie-woogie piano, tyrannical flute expulsions, and a 1920s cabaret score suggest some kind of irrational behaviour. Varga’s parietal electric guitar hogs the spotlight with a series of phosphorescent interventions, within an arrangement of pouncing scales, insane vocalizations, and rhythmic hurdling. You cannot even dance to this, as it’s a dissonant and distorted display of oblique movements, and calculated mental missteps. The senses are questioned with austere efficiency, as if careening between past memories, current frustrations and future prospects. The pace settles into a trio of objecting solos between keys, axes and flutes, each taking turn at expressing conflicting emotions.
No hint of cranial relaxation on “Symphony of Disquietude”, just a different slant on creating an intoxicating solid groove, responsible for the distinct functions essential to daily life. Enjoyment, pleasure, movement and art all combined into one efficient musical cerebrum. Robert bludgeons his organ with unbridled abandon, the guitars magnifying the physical reactions, and the battering ram drums pounding like a bad migraine. Sonic salvation on the 4 minute “Words Are All We Have”, a well-deserved vocal oriented rest period, sounding like a soulfully modern tune and surely therapeutic in nature.
CD 2: Three extended and world class epics are presented here, “Hope Whisper” launching back into the cauldron of fire with a softer assault on the senses, clearly less experimental and more symphonic that the turbulent opening disc. That does not mean that the pace is not energetic, quite to the contrary, the inventive bombast comes across with gigantic guitar slashes amid colossal keyboard orchestrations, closer to classic Solaris, especially when Kollar’s flute does its magical appearance, trilling like a locomotive breath. The Edina Szirtes violin comes as a welcome addition to the atmosphere. The main melodic line stays away from the previous helter-skelter exuberance, the accent now on the sweeping melodic line, perhaps one of their finest ever recorded, and repeated for good measure. Janos Varga first offers a bluesy solo that defies description, all class and unblushing mood and then later, burns up the track with smoldering tires ablaze. Definitely, a hallmark monument on this production!
Another 13-minute affair, “Echoes of Anger” rekindles the album opener “Waves of Rage“ in an altogether different packaging, flavoured with an intoxicating percussive onslaught from both drummers (Gàspàr and Gömör), adding some ethnic chanting that may recall the Hun invasion of Europe, with dazzling piano runs that evoke images of racing horses. The seething guitar only connecting fury and pace to the whole and a series of welcome bass flurries from Balàzs Szendófi comes just in the nick of time. The sharpening of the main melody becomes apparent now, a truly memorable piece of music, morphing into a variation on the Genesis track the Knife that is quite apparent, only for a second as Varga unexpectedly heads into a Santana-inspired electric guitar rampage that will force one to their knees. (Nagyon finom! Very tasty in Hungarian)
As one of the most invaded countries on the planet, Hungarians know very well the meaning of “War Devours its Own”, even the national anthem mentions their tragic plight. Hence, being stubborn is not an act of immaturity but rather a method of resistance to being crushed by outside giants. Having amazing food, wine, history, a language that cannot be understood except by Martians, is also aided by a tradition of story-telling as old as the steppes of Central Asia. The bolero-like feel on this impeccable track defines the above commentary to a T, with the entire band unleashing a hurricane of passion all over this arrangement, even inserting a blistering saxophone solo from Ferenc Muck to counterbalance the endless explicit guitar and synth gymnastics.
CD 1 is more mind-blowingly experimental, while CD 2 suggest jaws being picked off the floor in utter astonishment. A thoroughly enjoyable journey via the spinal cord into the deepest recesses of the most powerful computer ever.
4.5 skull benders.