Phideaux is baaaack…A consummate American songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and vocalist, he has launched a long list of staggering albums commencing in 2003 with ‘Fiendish’ (that should be a clue) , getting critical recognition with 2006 release ‘The Great Leap’ (go figure with a title like that) and sealing the deal with 2007’s ‘Doomsday Afternoon’ which really hit the mark. Three more tasteful albums (Number Seven, Snowtorch, and Infernal, the latter appearing in 2018) and then, …there was silence…Back well-rested and surely inspired, the prog community would surely be highly expectant of what may be in store. More of same, or a slight diversion? Well let me help the process. Lots of guest musicians appear to back the man on his ,at times intricate and original compositions, some returning to the fold as well as new additions, the most recognizable is Fernando Perdomo on guitars and Rich Mouser (guitars, keyboards and percussion).The style is very vocal centric (with six different voices to supply the lung power). Eight tracks, the final an epic, for a total of42 minutes of enjoyment. Introduction done!
“Do What you Will” divvies up a modern electro-pop opener that could have been a Stranglers tune revisited, the instrumentation coherent and eclectic (the piano motif is intoxicating), the dejected lyrics on the other hand are dark and grim, a slight apocalyptic feel that fits the current times of interminable negativity, solved with a deliberate shrug of hopeless argument. Phideaux vocals not only shine in lead mode but also with the backing vocal department, giving this piece an organic vigor that goes very much noticed. Keeping in line with further analysis of the human condition, “Hey Humanity” reminds us that alleged evolution is just a marketing term, as outside of technology, we have really not evolved much at all. Two steps forward and three steps back. The overt chorus is a flamboyant plea that pulls at the heartstrings, crisscrossing voices blending in with the strident guitars and pushing the pain along for evermore. The sounds are tidy and efficient on “Driving to Destruction”, the massed vocals remindful of some manifestation of the distraught, the jangly keys and twisted frets combine to highlight the unescapable shambles. This could have ben a proggy Sparks track, its that serious! This town isn’t big enough for all of us.
A semi-romantic reprieve on “Stay with Me”, a reasonable ballad that has a melodic anchor that weighs heavily on the frayed nerves of depression, angst, and fear for the future. The pleading lyrics hit hard, the chorus intensely attractive, regardless of the outcome. “Don’t go away, leave it all behind”. Chaplin, Hebdo, Kirk ? Does it really matter who? Well, “Charlie Knew”, a bouncy, deeply evocative affair, laden with lavish orchestrations and massive choir states the message of knowledge. It maintains, even elevates the momentum of the album; while leaving the meaning to one’s own discretion.
The stunning wailing vocal crowns the “Siren in the Storm”, as if sitting comfortably on a basalt crag, surrounded by aquatic turbulence and gale-force winds, beckoning Phideaux into looking for deliverance, rescue and finality, smiling so beautifully. Violent violins slide along mercilessly on “Enigmatic Terminus”, acting as a segue to the earlier “Driving to Destruction”, whirling swirls of madness and confusion, all within theatrical confines, as if a soundtrack from a scene in some movie. Two excellent tracks that ideally set up the grand finale.
The 14 minute + “Legend of Mary Jo” delivers a wider palette for exuberant storytelling (I do hope I get the tale right), the instrumental stage is set for the spotlight to shine on the lyrical content, when in 2062, a prophet called Amy will come for you, riding on a white stallion, but Mary Jo will defy the odds and save us all. Phideaux is no Pavarotti (very few are) but here, he hits all the crucial high notes with a languorous dedication, giving even more depth to the titanic struggle, trumpets sounding in the background. For a moment, this musically recalls the epic Gordon Lightfoot classic “the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, as it has a slight folky structure, the honky-tonk piano not withstanding. The saxophone blurts in wonderfully , at the most opportune time, adding some brassy shine to the proceedings. Then, out of the blue, the assault on the senses begins, initiated by a basalt bass undertow, slashing guitars, dense mellotronic cascades, and tectonic drumming entering the fray, as if the Wake of Poseidon was an inspiration. The final chapter is repeated from the onset, this time slower and more deliberate, as if fatigue would have kicked in. You never walk alone, as they say in Liverpool.
Excellent return to the fold, now no more lengthy sabbaticals Mr Xavier, please.
4 android hostilities