The thrill of something absolutely one knows nothing about remains an exhilarating experience for a prog reviewer. A titillating cover certainly sets the mood, like the proverbial a candle in the dim bedroom, the title emanates a distant and most pleasant memory of a classic piece on a legendary album, Phil Manzanera’s glorious “801 Live”, and most of all, a gut twitch/palm scratch that may indicate massive eventual joy. This is a debut album by a dynamic Norwegian duo from Bergen , composed of drummer/vocalist Helge Nyheim and producer/arranger Daniel Hauge, both veterans of the local scene , aided by a long list of guests on a variety of additional instruments. I must admit, I enjoyed this from the very first audition, smiling often and wide at the pleasures, especially the clever hints at past classic musicians.
“Virtual Avenue” sets the sonic drakkar on its way with a thrilling opener, that has a bold attractiveness, very remindful of Ultravox in the unmistakable keyboard colorations and a drummer that has surely Warren Cann in particular as an idol. Solid, relentless, beefy and devastating, with a hint of divine stardust and streaking meteor tails. Its as catchy as one can hope for, a prefect setup for the next two-part short tracks that form as one, “Rays of Cosmic Embers”, divulging an out of this world Tangerine/Floyd concoction, a planetary excursion where swirling synthesizers twirl, a rustling organ undertow masquerading as booster rockets, and that rock solid rhythmic pulse that propels like a Warp factor 5. The overall dynamics are enhanced by fabulous melodic content, Nyheim and Hauge overtly in search of distant space without the needless noodling, encapsulated by the terrific riffs from guitarist Bjarte Aasmul that embrace the various cinematic keyboard interventions, as well as the convincingly adventurous vocals. Delightful bliss.
This band certainly espouses prologues and two-part tracks, as “Crack our Codes” slithers first in a galactic atmosphere of luxuriance, before indulging in the darker side of the moon with some angry vocals that may recall some Waters fellow, the saxophone suitably choppy and surly like the ‘astronut’ (wordplay) that Roger can be more often that not. Its appropriately oblique and gritty, similar to passing through an asteroid belt.
The three-part “The Nasty Man” (and its introductory prologue and final epic-logue) covers nearly 10 minutes of sublime space rock, laying down a straightforward four note repetitive synth cord, percussive mechanical time keeping beat, whistling electronic frequencies bouncing off various satellites, until the overall atmosphere comes to an explosive shift. Here one can admire the definite Pink mood, Asmul’s axe solo particularly careful (just like Eugene), the siren-like synths blaring into the deepest golden void and enough dynamic transitions to keep the rocket fuel burning bright. My kind of nasty…
Before anyone gets uptight with emulating Clare Torry’s epic (and still unsurpassed) classic vocal on Wright’s classic piece, “Ones and Zeroes” is not an homage or a version of “the Great Gig in the Sky” but a wholly exciting piece of forceful melodicism, where a saxophone raises the temperature booming, the male vocals passionately stating the story, and where a delicate piano releases a monumental (actually, just plain mental) scat vocal that is on the verge of delirium, somewhere between Torry and that Roche sister (Terry?) who loses it on Fripp’s classic “Exposure”. Impressive, Sharon Gaynor, you really nailed it, to say the least.
The final duo is the title track, an eight-minute travelogue that encompasses perfectly all the previous tracks, at first proposing theatrical vocals bathing in dense orchestrations and the second part that blasts into immediate sonic hyperdrive with a nearly Hawkwind-esque guitar riff à la Dave Brock, reigniting the combination of Ultravox keyboards, pummeling drum patterns and the occasionally vocoded vocals. Attention to detail is really evident on the soft outro.
Thoroughly entertaining and modern approach to a gifted stylistic, where impeccable sound and enough variation keeps the cosmonaut safely tethered to the command module, with no hint of HAL losing his algorithmic mind. Looking forward to where we go next. Now, is there any chance at all that we can ever go back to the moon…soon?
4.5 galactic voyagers