Eric Bouillette of Nine Skies, Solace Supplice, This Winter Machine, Drifting Sun, Imaginaerium, and the Room was, by all accounts, a universally respected as well as deeply loved musician, who passed away, way too young from pancreatic cancer, almost a year ago this month. May he rest in eternal peace. The prog community of artists, journalists, promoters, and fans is a unique, profoundly intertwined circle that spans the globe. Showing its respect, it also has the ability to add gesture to mere notes, digital or otherwise and unite when facing tragedy. A Tribute to Eric Bouillette – Songs for an Angel Part One has already been made available. This new release by Nova Cascade is as just a cause as one might hope to encounter, as all proceeds collected through sales go to the Pancreatic Cancer research. Which is why I pre-ordered and paid for the download as well as the CD, so that I can contribute my humble little part, even though I did receive a review package at no cost. Prog is certainly not about fame and fortune, but rather more inclined to everlasting musical enjoyment between artist and fan. It’s not about dazzling technique, lavish rock’ n roll lifestyle or crowning the charts. It is inherently a serious genre of musical expression that does not require arenas, choosing to impact the profound impression their work may have on a universe of an unknown or unseen audience who care enough to listen, patiently at home in solitude with earphones as sole companions. A truly remarkable community.
I found myself deeply taken by Nova Cascade’s previous two albums, their more serene ambient take on progressive rock nestled comfortably into my soul. Eric was working on “the Navigator”, as he was fighting bravely the ravages of his disease, whilst participating in the creative process with his usual passion and determination. He is featured here on electric and acoustic guitars and his blessed violin. Vocalist, composer, programmer, and keyboard player Dave Hilborne leads the seasoned and loyal crew, featuring bassist David Fick, Lorenzo Poliandri on drums, Charlie Bramald on flute as well as relying on the relief cavalry of guitarist Colin Powell and violinist Nino Chikviladze. Thirteen tracks of shimmering beauty, real human choirs (as opposed to the synthesized ones), gargantuan melodies, a plethora of detailed instrumental touches and a crushingly fragile vocal delivery that will squeeze your emotions into powder. As with all previous Nova Cascade albums, earphones will enhance the experience to celestial heights.
Dim the lights, settle in comfortably numb to the outside mayhem and all other distractions, and become “The Navigator” and see where the good ship will take you to, as it will choose to anchor in 13 different legs along the route. The first of which is where you just might find “Sleeping Dogs”, a majestic female choir greeting one like a siren on the quay, a sensual violin scouring the deck, as Dave whispers most eloquently. Now, those not familiar with his vocal style will require a little adjustment as its is way beyond David Cousins of Strawbs, recent Bryan Ferry, the legendary Leonard Cohen or Dieter Meier from Yello fame. Suffice to state that it’s extremely heartfelt, sincere, and poignant. Once you get the drift (excuse the pun), it will wash away your hesitancy, as it is quite a unique take on the microphone. As predicated by the obvious title, “Safe Haven” is a nautical harbour of security that only the valiant and veteran sea farers could possibly cherish, the keyboard arrangement calm and reflective with some soothing flute to cast off the moorings. Like a painting by Constable or Turner, “A Walk Along the Canal” is a pastoral reflection on tranquility and respite from the unpredictable seas, a leisurely stroll led by some suave guitar lines, meandering violin (Nino) amid the ornate piano motifs.
The epic 10 minute + title track has all the hallmarks of a classic soundtrack (think You Only Live Twice -James Bond), a deliberate build-up with those previously mentioned human choirs, gradually going tornado as an electric guitar with the wind in its sails sets the compass, the sextant close by for exactitude. Lorenzo’s turbine drums channel the power into the massive propellers, while the acoustic guitar announcing calmer waters ahead. The main nautical theme is stunning, a titanic melody that will never sink (think You Only Live Twice -James Bond), buoyed by shimmering piano, glimmering synths, and a horizon of endless stars. The ballast bass undertow fluidly steers the vessel inexorably to its next port of call. The passengers can relax in their cabins, the captain is at the helm, as proven by the momentary “The Night Crossing”, a moonlit ferry that offers no waves to worry about, firmly steaming towards the next anchorage, surrounded by only the indigo blue nocturnal darkness. The guitar sheard is brimming with confidence, yet the violin peaceful and so the infinite mood is set for the next mooring.
The charming “The Fever Dream” has a slight Oriental theme, as if a sloop was heading purposefully due East, towards the South China Sea perhaps. After an initial flute driven serenity, a feverish guitar enters for an instant as if torn between reality and imagination, certainly not due to any seasickness. More redolent flute and violin adornments conjure spice-laden images of first, dhows and then junks, a marine medley of colour and urgency.
Narration on “Any Minute Now”, sounding like a gently glistening lake speared by a canoe, as Dave at times reminds me of The Roxy frontman on his solo album Mamouna, the caring, crooning voice emotes with palpable sensitivity. The words are sorrowful, deeply personal, and earnest. I was gulping for air, as if caught in a deep-sea scuba outfit, the leaden boots forcing me deeper into the abyss.
Like a majestic galleon heading towards Plymouth “The Noble Lion”, with its white sails, evokes images of Sir Francis Drake returning from an encounter with the Gran Armada, disrupting the pernicious trade demanded by Spain of its conquering sailors. The arrangement is calm, eloquent, prim, and proper and suitably to the point, very British, I say!
On the other hand, the aquatic “Submerged” could be a modern soundtrack for a U-Boat hunt, as it menaces another convoy protected by vigilant destroyers, the churning waters are expertly depicted with a swirling electric guitar rant that splashes uncontrollably. The quarrelsome bass is like a great white shark plying the waves in search of prey.
As a pure contrast, “Weightless” is a trembling affair, like a catamaran suspended on one of its two hulls, gliding along with secure audacity, unafraid to battle the whitecaps. The delicate voice is truly mesmerizing, making this a superb track, aided by a sensitive ambient choir background.
Like a clipper sailing for home, “Return to Haven” is a perfect illustration of the exhilaration of an oceanic journey’s end, replete with sizzling excitement and memories firmly inscribed in the log. The instruments conjure up these sensibilities with remarkable ease. The heavenly violin (Nino again), the atmospheric synths, the athletic e-guitar, the nimble percussion, and the roaming bass are all stupendous as they express a gorgeous final theme that is to drown for and unite with Poseidon in Atlantis. Excruciatingly attractive.
The final two tracks serve as a glorious musical eulogy to Eric. More poetry on “Somewhere”, steered by a scintillating rolling bass motif, on which all others sparkle. “Where did it all the years pass, were taken before our time, the ties that bind move on”. The acoustic guitar on “Au Revoir” strums the title track theme, reiterated as a violin inspired message, placed in the proverbial wine bottle (Bourgogne, of course), and cast off into the purest of sunsets. Safe travels, bon voyage, mon ami.
This review is dedicated to Bad Dog Promotions’ Anne Claire Rallo, Eric’s partner, who keeps his eternal flame alive in music, in thought and in remembrance. As well, profound thanks to all those who will choose to participate in this most noble cause.
5 Explorateurs
