In a classic Prog pincer movement and with exquisite timing, I received a request to review from Bad Dog Promotions, where I immediately recognized the keyboardist as being a former member of Inquire and a few days later, an album analysis appeared from Lazland (we are the Glimmer Twins of reviewing LOL), pertaining to this new German band Castle Mountain Moon (Schloss Berg Mond). After a few spins to validate the greenlight for consideration, I placed it on my to-do list. Yes, Robert Kohler was a member of German prog band Inquire which I had enjoyed in the past, so this was not going to be virgin territory. Guitarist and vocalist Dirk Krause is the other main composer, while drums are supplied by Gary Wassong, with featured guests Frank Piontkowski on cello, as well as Johanna Kohler on the trombone.
Six tales in the title, seven tracks listed, and we already have acquired the definition of “Perception”, proving that even silence has an existence, and any omission is a permitted trait. Well-played, meinen Herren! The opening instrumental serving to raise the velvet curtain and set the spotlight on the stage and the musical adventure to follow. The permeating electronic keyboards take over from the nascent piano motif, suggesting an eventual discernment on the horizon, at first indistinct and hazy, gradually swirling into the beyond, a robotic voice announcing a mystery to behold. “Blue Sky Machine” has a built-in futuristic sheen opening, a despondent voice pleading mechanically in a synthesized imbroglio, before transitioning into a more classic prog vein with a sublime yet subdued electric guitar melody, aided and abetted by a Kohler flurry on his lustrous keyboards. The drums complete the atmospheric expanse, before reverting to a bopping synth-driven apotheosis, lush with Kraftwerkian circuitry.
The ambience gets noticeably sturdier on the prominent “Elephant”, a mammoth (sorry, could not help myself) pace that sheds light on the oppressive reality of modern-day society, Dirk Krause’s vocals a heady mix of Icehouse’s Iva Davies and Bauhaus’ Peter Murphy. Not much room left to breathe when the ribald leadership pachyderm takes up so much of our space, with manifest lies, manipulation and deceit. The instrumental package is excellently evocative, gloomy and gutsy, with impressive percussives leading the way into the chaotic grey.
A pipe organ is the only acoustic instrument that can produce a sound that spans the entire spectrum of human hearing (yes I know, computers can do anything better and AI even more, cough) , and that is what opens up “Fly” has an uncanny Pink Floyd pace, especially in the vocal department, tormented by a relentless bass line and somersaulting synth, organ and guitar flights, putting a personal stamp that characterizes their style. The piece is finished off with a brassy ovation, orchestral mellotrons holding the cage door wide open. Fly away. But where to, asked the tinman, the scarecrow and the lion?
“To The Moon”, answered the wizard. And what an incredible flight this is! Brooding, melancholic, and despondent, ‘the path in the sky, leading to the moon” is fraught with a caustic groove, a tempestuous electric guitar propelling the broiling organ thrusters into overdrive. The lissome singing fearlessly climbs above the cascading mellotron waves, the solemn drums beating like a stout heart, as the cosmic spirit vanishes into deep space. A fantastic track to say the least.
Return to a more percolating groove, once again steered by a scavenging bass flurry, and a ruthless organ companion. “Who” maintains the scalding atmosphere, abundantly displaying all the right moves until the very end, where reality eventually turns into memory only the sad and forlorn vocals providing any kind of solace. Anonymity is a vindictive attribute, that cannot ever be overcome. How soon we forget.
A fitting homage to mortality, buoyed by Piontkowski’s plaintive cello, “Suddenly”, the ornate piano expressive as only this instrument can, and a willowy vocal delivery with crushingly fatalistic lyrics. The final section takes this massively gorgeous melody, reprised by a glittering electric guitar vortex, insistent and persuasive, as finality always must be. One day, it will take me to the moon and beyond. Absolutely brilliant track.
Multiple auditions have only served to increase my admiration for this expertly constructed slice of heartfelt prog. It has this added attraction of increasing the pleasure as one delves deeper and deeper into the set-list, thus creating a continuity of temperament and enjoyment. Excellent debut album, I will soon inquire (oops) about any future releases in the new year.
4.5 Lunar hill fortresses
