The advantages of having a hardcore attitude towards finding hidden prog gems, especially the more recent ones, is that it requires research on a wide variety of platforms, which can include the obvious internet (or the “Internment net “ as I like to call it) but also radio programs and magazines. One can have the best radar in the world but if something flies 10 feet off the ground, you will not see the blip on any screen. Kopilott is from Spain, I have no info on the musicians, even though I did find it on Bandcamp, so for now, we have to live with the artistic anonymity (you won the WC, you can open up now, hombre!). First of all, a stunning cover always help us older fans, as we lived in a time when the artwork was highly indicative of the musical trip within (hello Roger Dean and Hipgnosis, among many others). It pretty much clarifies the sounds provided, a synthesizer-rich aural ocean that seduces , cosmic guitar tributaries that owe to both Steve Hillage or Manuel Gottsching , vivid bass promenades, and a propellant percussive drive which may or may not be organic, all fitting into well-structured either mid-sized or marathon jam sessions.
Within seconds of tumbling into “Void”, my weary mind had left the sordid negativity of our current miasmic world, immediately strapped into some hurtling space shuttle, taking me and my pointed ears to boldly go where a few may have travelled before (the Federation notwithstanding) and luxuriate in the fulminating journey ahead. I knew right away that I will love this.
If one was satisfied visiting the black hole, well hungering for the epic “Lust “ may become an obsession, a relentless drum assault bass guitar battery that would make cosmic sex an addiction. A 10 minute + dive-bombing excursion into the vast unknown, where primal functions rule, animal urges deciding which course to take, and orgasmic flow seems the goal of the entire seduction. The use of various effect pedals only adds to the hunger, the pace never abating the slightest bit, just pounding along like a stud. The titillating synths provide all the aural caresses one could ever hope for, only to get rebooted by that lewd bass line. Incredible.
The shortest track , a bit over 4 minutes, “Nebula” clouds the issue, coming across as something the venerable Bill Nelson would have composed in the early 2000, and oblique, concrete and staunch romp, the melodious guitar heavily effect-laden, the swarming keys and a bass synth showing little remorse. The buzzing electronics take it in another thunderous direction altogether.
“Mirrors” expands on the exuberance, reflecting an almost hypnotic, slowly building JM Jarre feel, before the electric guitar decides to streak into almost forbidden zones, a simply astounding showcase of technical talent, moody atmosphere and compositional excellence. When warp speed seven is attained, hold on to your phasers and strap yourself in… A beeline into delirium, an unforgiving and ruthless onslaught that crosses through a galactic belt, arriving on the other side with only floating intentions of serenity.
“Gorgona” opts for a neo-funky tradition, a stringent groove on which the serpentine electric guitar coils rapturously, its gruff texture a hugely attractive appeal. A vocal effect adds all the additional drama one would require, the shimmering keyboard underlay doing its share of theatrics. The stop and start sequence reboots the piece into a darker vein, as if a scene from some lurid sci-fi movie required it as a soundtrack.
A beautiful melody can be considered as a “Cursed Delight”, and the artist wisely selected a different tack to express himself, in a neo-classical arrangement where tempered stylistics so that the main melody can really stand out. Even the guitar tone is closer to Hackett or Mike Holmes, not exactly paupers. The flute effects and leisurely pastoral feel comes totally unexpected, a most welcome moment on the recording.
To finish off with a tremendous rendition of one of the all-time classics (and rarely done successfully with the exception of a few Carlos Santana versions with guest guitarists) “Maggot Brain “ is that famous 1970 Funkadelic track where George Clinton told axeman Eddie Hazel to play like if his mother had died. Arguably one of the greatest audio experiences even Jimi (RIP) could ever hope for. The version here is respectfully not a clone but a sensible variation that pays reverence to the original. Cleaner perhaps (lesser use of wah-wah) but just as intense. The addition of keyboards is simply genius, and the final flurry is celestial jubilation incarnate.
A wonderfully attractive, fresh, crisp and exciting selection of pieces that bodes very well for having a much larger audience. I enjoyed this immediately and will many more times, I am sure. I also purchased their preceding and following albums.
5 Navigators