Nine years after their underwhelming 2025 “Beast, Machine & Man”, this Finnish combo returns with “Monologue of Chronos” with the home of reigniting the rave reviews for their 2006 debut “Armed Forces of Simantipak” as well as the follow-up “Disconcerto Grosso” , both most enjoyable recordings . Essentially now a trio of Atte Kurri, Ilkka Piispala and Ilkka Saarikivi, all pretty much multi-instrumentalists, as well as participating in the vocal department, this is quite the tight package containing seven mid-sized tracks.
A wide variety of keyboards usurp the stage, the main motor in composing and creating the appropriate sonic groundwork, while the rhythm section remains lively within the process. The end result is perhaps closer to more progressive versions of 10cc or even Supertramp, pretty overt in the vocal harmonies that made the two bands in questions such powerhouses. Thrown in burly bass guitar settings, and pumping piano, organ and synthesizer motifs with impunity and you get the picture. One immediate observation is that the harmonies clearly outshine the lead vocals, which can be a tad reedy and thin at times, it’s an oddity that does not condemn the arrangements in any manner. As befits a monologue I guess, there are no uneven tracks here, as all seven form a setlist with enough diversity and instrumental technique that have both Neo and Symphonic characteristics. On occasion, the screeching guitar leaps out and bites, on others it’s the obdurate bass lines that provide the thrills, a modern approach that eschews any need for senselessly flashing solos, preferring amore cohesive overall experience.
After the first two tracks set the standard and the pace, the album really starts hitting its groove on the relentless “The Dystopian Spirit of Club Energy”, the instrumental core attracting quite a few raised contented eyebrows. This impression blooms even further on the impressive “Song of Days”, a pummelling onslaught that delivers the goods, a poignant drum beat in particular doing a fair amount of damage, as if urging the symphonics to take over, while shifting the urgency at will, keeping the drama intense. The cute Yes-isms are both adorable and reverential, the slippery axe solo a total blast and the percussion throughout subtle and a propos. These two tracks easily outduel the aging affirmative crew as well as those Asia guys. Me like this.
“DID Memoir” introduces a gorgeous piano within a melody to die for, bold and adventurous, as the development takes the tempo into a comfort zone, a prog power ballad! The keyboards have an echoing tone that is most modern and utterly appealing. On a dime, the switch is momentarily flipped and a jazzier mood hits one right between the ears! Another button is pressed and the rush returns like a long-withheld memory. A semi-rap section had me fall off my chair, a clever little insert that clicked on all cylinders.
The intertwined vocal harmonics come back for an encore on “The Keepers of Philosopher’s Stone”, the piano and bass playing together, as if building sandcastles on the beach, the assorted keyboardists doing a few Gentle Giant stylistics to confuse the audience. There is an ongoing battle between complex arrangements, loaded with experimentation, such as the harpsichord patch, veering into an organ splurge that would make Kerry Minnear smile and a sense of accessibility that dares not to give way to familiarity.
Well appointed theatrics appear on the finale “Mundus Meus (This World of Mine)”, so as it leave a positive last impression. It’s also the longest track by a few seconds, with a stunning chorus and a series of wicked guitar abrades, a fitting example of nailing the deal. The neo-Gregorian choir bit really hit the spot.
An entertaining modern prog album that deserves a commitment to listen with an open mind and enjoy all of its constructive attributes. A few spins will get it done.
4 Armenian speeches