Dream Theater – A Dramatic Turn of Events (2011)

There are a few albums that share the not to be underrated ability to awaken me from my months-long writing sleep and spark that sudden urge to write about them – or shall I say “review” them.

Such is definitely the case with Mike Portnoy-less Dream Theater‘s very recent output A Dramatic Turn of Events. Let us immediately be clear: as the band themselves stated, the title has nothing to do with the much grieved departure of Portnoy‘s; and although DT die hard fans and musical purists won’t hesitate to tell you his absence is indeed to be felt, A Dramatic Turn of Events is in every respect and in full right a 100% Dream Theater release. And a very good one at that.

Prior to actually listening to the album, I read a couple of pre-release reviews all praising it in a lot of ways (and trust me, there is actually lots to be praised). Almost all of them seemed to agree on one thing though: Dream Theater was finally back to their “original” sound, the one that made them great and is to be heard on Images and Words and Scenes from a Memory. Now, may I humbly say I don’t see a very tight bond between those two – but that might be just me. So, without getting any close to the age old debate on DT‘s “old” versus “new” ways, let’s go state the obvious: this is a very good album, and it will likely please both “categories” of fans.

What’s so special about it? It has a solid mixture of a bit of everything, and when I say solid I mean all parts fall in place in a splendid way, intertwining perfectly and leaving you wanting for nothing more. During its 77 minutes, a few different sounds and moods hit your ears, from caressing them gently to stroking them a bit. Already at my first spin, I had the feeling a perfect balance between hard and soft had been reached – which wasn’t to be taken for granted. Further listenings strenghtened this first impression, and I can’t but confirm it. Why, they even had me love the somewhat cheesy closing ballad, Beneath the Surface! That must account for quite some persuading power.

As usual, my personal favourites fall among the longer, “heavier” ones (I’m thinking Bridges in the Sky and Outcry above all); which is not to say I didn’t enjoy the quieter moments, as in This is the Life. What I used not to find very convincing about Dream Theater in the past, though loving most of their songs, was their trying a shift towards heavy. It mostly sounded artificial to me, as if they were sometimes trying too (allow me a little pun here) hard. Some choruses off the previous record and a couple of the preceding ones come to mind.

But this is not the case. Not anymore. It now feels like they’ve reached a long sought balance, and it might be silly but it could actually have to do with Portnoy‘s absence. After all it can’t be a coincidence Rudess said Petrucci and himself felt a lot more free now Portnoy wasn’t supervising the writing process. My two cents on this is: the writing sounds a bit more polished (if that was even possible), less frantic, and with a tad more attention to melody than before. Of course, echoes of albums past are still to be heard here and there (or it wouldn’t be our beloved DT); but it is somehow to hear the writers finally got free reins – and made the most of the opportunity.

As to the always difficult question (but aren’t they all, when you’re seeking for answers, not just opinions?): for whom is this album?, it can be easily dodged: it’s for everyone. Old fans, new fans, fans of the old, fans of the new, and fans of the old and new. I know it sounds a bit redundant. But that’s it: there’s enough on A Dramatic Turn of Events to please each and every “front” of DT fans (and there seem to be a lot). Some might find the ballads (three in total, and amounting to some 16 minutes altogether) are a bit too many, or at any rate a far cry from the unequalled Whither and The Answer Lies Within – but just like the rest, they’re very convincing and you’ll eventually buy into them. Longer songs and “suites” on the other hand, have a bit of all you can ask for: solid melody, alluring rhythm, almost oniric slow sections and sudden accelerations and tempo swings. From the heavy sounds of Bridges in the Sky, to the old scented prog of Breaking All Illusions, with an (again) perfectly balanced mix of these two sides on the opening On the Backs of Angels, the whole album is a great rollercoaster up and down all that make Dream Theater the band we love. There’s even room for a revolutionary anthem (Outcry), which I sure didn’t see coming! And unlike some of its predecessors, A Dramatic Turn of Events leaves no room for wishing a track was over and the album would move on to the next; everything is tantalising in its own way, and that’s a huge plus on a long record. Portnoy fans (and I’m one) will hate me for it, but this is Dream Theater at its best.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: If Black Clouds and Silver Linings earned a full eight from me, A Dramatic Turn of Events deserves atleast half a point more. There’s almost nothing standing in its way to becoming a classic, and certainly a stepping stone in your DT collection. If you enjoyed the previous, you’re gonna love this one, sort of a grown up and more ambitious, and yet (or just because of that) a lot more balanced version of it. A Dramatic Turn of Events is in all respects a brave but well-pondered big step ahead of Black Clouds and Silver Linings (and all the preceding). Everything clicked this time; you’ll hear for yourself if you decide to get the album and give it some (well deserved) 80 minutes of your time. Rest assured, not a second of it will be wasted. 8,5/10

MaYan – Quarterpast (2011)

I’m listening to MaYan‘s Quarterpast for the second time right now, desperately trying to find some reasons why I shouldn’t just follow the instinctive need I felt when I first heard it, to blurt out my utter disappointment and humbly try and bash it as harshly as possible. And no, none found so far.

I apparently can’t help expecting more from the main guy behind my own 2009 album of the year, Epica‘s Design Your Universe. Guitarist Mark Jansen is a vulcanic music prodigy and composer whose creativity can be easily tamed. And that’s just wonderful. In my mind, that equates him to those few musicians that general underground music community’s consensus usually regards as musical geniusses: Arjen Lucassen, Tuomas Holopainen, Dan Swanö, Devin Townsend.

So it’s all the more disappointing to hear what he came up with on his solo/supergroup (yes, it’s both) project MaYan. Mark‘s penchant for death metal is well known, and it was atleast fair to assume his solo writing would go in that direction, especially after Epica replaced two of their former members with death/extreme metal musicians (drummer Ariën van Weesenbeek and guitarist Isaac Delahaye, who not by chance were recruited by Mark for MaYan). Nor should it surprise anyone that MaYan also attempt to reconcile said death metal spurts with Epica‘s symphonic heart.

What does surprise, and in a negative way, is what such an attempt led to. Quarterpast is, at best, an easier-listening version of Sons of Seasons‘ recently released Magnisphyricon: a clot of black-scented furious drumming and nonsensical “lyrical” snipets coming out of nowhere. It may be no coincidence the two projects, comprising members of bands related to one another by means of an on-and-off the stage friendship, actually ended up with similar efforts. I would want to call them “dead ends”, but that’s just wishful thinking: who knows they’ve actually set some stepping stone for future bands to come? Or even, God forbid, for what they’re going to do from now on?

Magnisphyricon is Sons of Seasons‘ sophomore release, and as I tried to phrase here, it takes a none too good debut even further down. MaYan‘s Quarterpast is just a beginning, and it may as well have no lasting consequence on the band’s (possible) future work. Nor, and that’s an old Epica fan’s hope, on the “main” band.

The album’s structure pretty much sums up what I wrote about MaYan‘s style: a frenzying drums-driven death metal song is followed by an ethereal wanna-be lyrical piece, again followed by crazy hyperfast drumming and guitar walls coming out of, and leading to, nothing. One might think a well pondered mixture of these two sides on the same song could give better results, but songs like Bite the Bullet, though not extremely weak, completely shatter such hopes. The final Sinner’s Last Retreat actually comes close to being a sufficient song, but that’s about all the good Quarterpast can offer.

The annoying fillers would perhaps deserve a mention, also being an effective sum of the album’s inconsistency; but suffice it here to say there’s three of them, all of course equally useless.

That said, the album still remains appealing (sad as this may be) to: casual fans of “alternative” kinds of death metal, uncritical supporters of side projects, Epica (or Dutch symphonic metal in general) fangirls and fanboys, and lovers of “new and fresh” sounds at all costs. No doubt this kind of vaguely symphonic, poorly syncretic death metal is something new on “the scene”, and it won’t fail at attracting followers and enthusiasts. Question is: is this a direction worth exploring? Haven’t we been disappointed enough already? Time, and selling figures, will tell.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: The Cennsor‘s own view (’cause I can’t really provide much more than that) is that it takes more than a couple randomly inserted Italian-sung opera lines and rhythmic brutality all clogged up together to make an album worth listening (and writing, for that matter). Quarterpast was obviously born of Mark Jansen‘s own creativity, in a way the ideas that ultimately led to it probably just needed to see the light. Otherwise they’d be still lingering among his musical thoughts, and that could’ve led to much worse results for, and under the name of, Epica. If there’s something I’d save about Quarterpast, and this whole MaYan project, is that it will probably prevent Epica from going down the same road. And to me, that’s relieving. 5/10

Lost in Thought – Opus Arise (2011)

Let’s be honest: I do like this album, and I do think British Lost in Thought have a lot of potential they’re already exploiting to some measure of success. Furthermore, there’s no band without influences, and sometimes it’s just hard to conceal them – provided the band’s out to prove they have their own style and so on, and emerging acts like Lost in Thought usually do.

What kind of annoys me is when the influences are there for anyone to hear, and there’s still people trying so hard to deny it.

Lost In Thought may not be “just another Dream Theater clone” in the ever-expanding galaxy that contains them all, but that they play in the very same vein as the much acclaimed American band is a pure fact. Not only; some echoes are blatant (just check out the opening track, Beyond the Flames, or Lost In Thoughts‘ final section) as if cut straight off from a Dream Theater pre-Black Clouds record.

If truth be told, the power metal cloaking Lost in Thought veil their songs with can sometimes be deceiving. The resulting sound is heavier than Dream Theater‘s, and somewhat (feel free to read “far” instead) less complex. The choir on Assimulate, Destroy comes immediately to mind as an instance of that. Then again, a very much (DT‘s) Home-like section slams the evident truth in your face again: the band’s main influence hangs all over the place, from not-so-carefully hidden to simply manifest.

On the other side, an undoubtedly skilled musicianship, the good sound quality, and bits of well-channelled imagination do play in Lost In Thought‘s favour. True creativity is lacking, but some could argue that’s a much more general issue going much further than this album/band. Here, the revisitation of the American prog heroes’ work gets cleverly combined with a personal touch, or different influcences atleast. Blood Red Diamond comes very close to some of Dutch “symphonic” power metallers Delain‘s stuff, as also Delusional Abyss does to some extent (I couldn’t bother checking which songs exactly, but you can trust me on that).

What can be said in Lost in Thought‘s “defence” (by the way, no-one’s accusing anyone, this just being a worn out listener and music explorer’s two cents), and helps this review’s rating go a bit higher, is this: the guys are young, this is just their debut (besides an EP no-one heard of before anyway) and they come from the United Kingdom. Not to deny that land’s just as good as any when it comes to musical talent, but it’s no Scandinavia after all, and it’s also not like prog metal (with a stress on “metal”) has a long, lasting tradition over there. So, that they managed to put such a debut album together is already worth some praise, or encouragement atleast. Plus: it won’t hurt anybody’s ears to give this stuff a listen; just set aside your desdain for Dream Theater heavily influenced acts and you’ll actually enjoy Opus Arise.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: All in all, Opus Arise is well written and executed, if perhaps a bit ill-conceived (if, and I’m taking it that was the case, the band’s intent was to dissimulate the aforementioned influences). The end result is a pleasant listen to all fans of prog-power, especially for those who don’t mind a rest in a progster’s everlasting quest for “original” and non-recycled music, to settle for a semi-clone that can still provide some 50 minutes of none too complex prog. 6/10

Riverside – Memories In My Head EP (2011)

If this blog had readers, they would know the Cennsor usually don’t deals with EPs. So if I am, it must mean one or more of the following: I especially like the band; it’s really good stuff; it’s a nice way to get introduced to the band’s grander-of-scope works. Memories In My Head is actually all of them.

A few words about Riverside: it’s a very talented band hailing from Poland, a country, or so it seems to me, abounding (especially in recent years) with rock talent in general, and a penchant for both the most extreme styles of metal and, on the other side, the most challenging meanders of prog. Riverside belongs to the latter, and let me clear some ground here, if a bit hastily: in spite of what you’ll hear about them, they actually don’t have much to do with Opeth. Or so they sound to me (subjectivity in musical taste is never too much stressed on).

To be honest, I didn’t give many chances to Opeth after a few brutal disappointments, nor I’ve listened to any of their most recent work which, so I hear, marked a shift in the band’s style, not sure in which direction. But from my (tiny) knowledge of earlier Opeth and (deeper) acquaintance with Riverside, I can safely state they don’t have much in common. Or let’s put it this way: what Opeth do in a disorderly (some would say: “experimental”) way, Riverside do with grace and much more taste in melody. Relaxed to “depressed” to aggressive vocals punctuate a soft yet absorbing keyboard+(generally) soft guitar layer, woven into a solid (but never too thick) thread of “oniric” sound, if I may call it so. What Riverside are masters at, is to gently force you to a musical walk along the most impervious of all grounds, i.e. the human mind.

Again, they do it with grace: their music is nowhere near a crazy mess you might expect from such a concept. Instead, they kind of take you step by step, and even the extremes you find yourself taken to sound natural, just like the right evolution of the sounds you’re surrounded by. So it’s with a good pair of earphones and a relaxed context (read: lying on a bed, thinking of nothing) that you’ll get the most out of what Riverside can offer.

That’s also the case with Memories In My Head, and that’s why I deemed it “good stuff”. Personally, I also like the heavier direction they took on their previous full-lenght Anno Domini High Definition, a characteristic their sound has always had, also masterfully combined with their general softness and care for melody. But Memories In My Head, except for a good half of Living In The Past, has no massive presence of that. On this EP, the softer tones definitely prevail, and that’s partly also why it does a nice introduction to the band.

Affectionate listeners will likely point out the biggest differences with any previous Riverside work are to be found, like I said, on Anno Domini High Definition. For when you compare Memories In My Head to the older stuff, a safe sense of relief finds its way into you: the band’s not taken any “experimental” awkward new directions. Riverside‘s music is still the same old, never tiresome (I’m obviously appealing to like-minded fellow listeners here) journey into our conscious-with-whatever-prefix. Sometimes placid, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes angry, sometimes psychedelic in the good old way.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: The nice triplet Riverside has offered us (amounting to more than half an hour of music, which alone deserves high praise) on this Memories In My Head doesn’t go very far from what they’ve accustomed us to, which to me (and many of you, I’m guessing) is nothing but good news. When you’re feeling like you need to relax (or already are and don’t wanna let the feeling fade), and don’t mind exploring some well hidden recesses of your mind through music, Riverside is still the best choice possible. Memories In My Head will as much please the old fans as hopefully acquaint many new ones with them. 7/10

Symphony X – Iconoclast (2011)

I’ve been toying around a while with the thought whether or not I should write a review of Symphony X‘ long awaited Iconoclast. Pro: it’s a fantastic album, full of mind-blowing material that’ll leave most of you in an enchanted, long-lasting gaping awe. Contra: when I say this is good, I mean it’s so damn great you can’t expect the tiniest shade of objectivity for the following few paragraphs.

But as the most perspicacious of you have already grasped, I eventually decided to do it. Although it is true I love the band to the point I can righteously call them my favourite (and I listen to a lot of stuff), threatening to seriously affect the natural bias anyone has just about anything, I can’t pass on the opportunity to give this stellar band their due, small as my contribution may be.

Moreover, (almost) unconditional love for a band accounts for higher expectations, and those in turn for a sharper critical sense. After a fair amount of spins, I can positively say I’m way past the adoring, kind of shocked “how did they come up with this AMAZING stuff?!” phase, and (closer to being) ready to write down something not all that biased. Iconoclast is truly an awesome piece of work, and once again the long wait (as for the previous Paradise Lost) has definitely paid off, but there are minor flaws I’ll also mention. So let’s get to it.

For starters: this review is about the double CD edition, as that’s what the band themselves consider the “true” album to be. As guitar hero/main composer Romeo had stated several times before, Iconoclast owes its birth to some material which was eventually left out of Paradise Lost. Far from being sort of a recyle bin for things past, it’s undeniable those echoes are present and very easy to trace for the band’s fans. The sound resulting from a very similar kind of mixing and producing process to that of Paradise Lost also enhances this impression (suffice it to mention Light Up the Night, perhaps the most blatant instance). That aside, the album still sounds fresh, as though what was “left out” of Paradise Lost has been worked on a lot, pondered carefully, and finally brought far enough not to make Iconoclast just sort of a lame follow-up to the previous album. Absence of haste in the process definitely helps explaining how that was achieved.

Iconoclast starts off this whole futuristic man-versus-machine concept with a very epic, solemn kind of incipit, with choirs à la first songs off Paradise Lost. The strong linear structure of the song, strenghtened by what can be argued to be the best solo lot of the album, already makes a case for it to be the best of the bunch. It’s also, in my opinion, the most fitting candidate to the title of (semi-)epic of the album, although When All is Lost and Reign in Madness, respectively at the end of each CD, do rival with it in lenght and “depth”.

Segue the two singles so far, The End of Innocence with its liquid riffage and the less catchy, though still strong, Dehumanized. As soon as they came out (before the rest of the album), fans were divided, their preference alternatively going to the former or latter. I’m calling myself out of the dispute and pretending I don’t also have a preference, by stating they’re both good and diverse enough to potentially please everyone. Bastards of the Machine, Heretic and Children of a Faceless God also confirm the impression one has already got at this point that Symphony X consciously decided to capitalise on Paradise Lost‘s greater catchiness than their previous work. The shredding and soloing of Romeo‘s is astonishing as ever, and though the days of masterful blending of classical music into heavy metal couldn’t seem farther off after a decidedly (and again: conscious) heavy shift, Symphony X‘ sound does still retain much of the glory days. The prog anima hasn’t been neglected either: tasty staccato shredding, square stop&go’s and perfectly timed tempo changes are all still there, right where they should be. Even echoes of Rainbow are to be heard (listen carefully to Children of a Faceless God and The Lord of Chaos‘ bridge). Symphony X have built on the “drift to the heavier side” which I personally loved about Paradise Lost (and some die-hard fan still can’t forgive them) but the sweet classical flavour hasn’t died away entirely, as the epic choirs stand to testify.

What has been left wanting, in my opinion, is the lyrics. I had grown accustomed to bigger efforts from Symphony X to put some kind of poetry into their lyrics; the last truly notable ones being those of The Odyssey. In that respect, Iconoclast is much lamer than anything they’ve ever written (lirically). This probably adds up to the augmented catchiness of it all, and was just as probably thoroughly thought of; still I can’t force myself to liking them. They convey kind of a sense of hastiness nowehere else present on the album. Still we’re far from the vast depths of the “sea of cheese”, so that’s minor issue really.

The first CD is beautifully closed up by a nine minute long ballad (with flashes of heaviness Romeo couldn’t help filling in), but there’s still a lot to feast your ears on on the second. Electric Messiah gives it a solid and sound start, followed up by Prometheus (I am Alive), a cool progression from slow to faster tempos on Romeo‘s familiar staccato guitar work. Light Up the Night and The Lord of Chaos stay true to the intended “simplification” of the overall sound, but on the other hand also serve as an example that it is possible to achieve it without going all four-fourths and braindead drumming. The songs’ structure is deep and articulated, whilst the sound is polished yet crunchy enough to justify Sir Allen‘s most aggressive vocals to date. A good example of different instances coexisting in harmony is the closing Reign in Madness, where an almost-80′s keyboard paves the way for much more modern riffing and (yet again) a catchy chours, right before it all slows down and then picks up the pace again towards the end.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: Simply put, a couple of minor issues aside, Iconoclast is pretty much an album for the ages. Or to keep our feet on the ground, for the next couple of years (I’m starting to hope it’ll take this long again before we get another Symphony X studio album… the equation time=care=good stuff has again worked very well). It’s still so very early, but count it atleast among my picks for album of the year. The same higher accessibility that seems to irritate the fanatics of their more baroque sound of old will actually do a perfect introduction to those (hopefully fewer and fewer) who don’t know the X yet. But be advised: it’s like entering a maelstrom. Symphony X still marks the spot for utterly enjoyable prog-scented, heavy shredding, epic folly. 9/10

Týr – The Lay of Thrym (2011)

So here they are again, our beloved islanders from the cold cold North (ok, I’m probably exaggerating, it’s no Svalbard after all). The Faroese Týr are back, and it’s a pleasant return.

Just a couple (literaly) years after By the Light of the Northern Star, the talented quartet is out with a new release, still under the auspices of the trusted Napalm Records. Once again, almost nothing has changed, and once again, that’s just very good news for their listeners and lovers.

The album, aptly titled The Lay of Thrym, is the same old bunch of viking-inspired songs, a collection of solid heavy metal songs with a lot of folky undertones, plus a very nice ballad and two superb bonus tracks (more on that later). Does that make for a boring listening? Again, not at all. Týr have already shown their ability not to get too repetitive although dwelving in the same genre and stylemes for what feels like a long time now (and it actually is, as they’ve been around since 1998). The Lay of Thrym is just another good example of that.

The album kicks off with the powerful, typically Týr-ian Flames of the Free, setting the tone for all that’s to come. Shadow of the Swastika, though bearing a somewhat ambiguous title, is a funny number whose lyrics might have you reflect – or, you might just fall for the general catchiness and the nice solo; either would be good.

On the same vein is Take Your Tyrant, something of a “libertarian” anthem, if that makes any sense. Same goes for Hall of Freedom, but to avoid repetitiveness, Týr placed the balladesque Evening Star right in the middle of the two like-themed songs. Evening Star is a little pretty gem, and personally I think it outscores any slower-tempo “soft” stuff these guys have ever done. To kind of vary the general lyrical output, this number is Lord of the Rings-themed (something we can’t seem to get any rest from, especially when we think of “epic” power metal bands, from Blind Guardian down down to their legion of clones; but midway through a viking metal album, that makes for a nce variation).

Fields of the Fallen could be described as a synthesis between Týr‘s characteristic folky background and sort of a “return to the metal origins”; and a very good one at that. I don’t honestly remember so many and such good guitar solos from Týr in the past, which sure accounts for a bit of variation more within the songs and to the general feel of the album.

But it’s time for the folkiest of the lot: unlike on their previous works, this time Týr have confined the Faroese-sung songs in the second half of the album. Konning Hans, an actual Danish/Faroese traditional chant, opens this second half, with a well-known beginning to listeners of Týr and connoisseurs of the genre. Ellindur Bóndi á Jaðri and Nine Worlds of Lore also stem from Faroese traditionals, but had their lyrics re-written by guitarist/vocalist Heri Joensen, respectively in Faroese and English. The Lay of Thrym serves as a closer, with its epic echoes making it a nice metal counterpart to the eddic poem that inspired it.

And just when you thought that was it, here come the bonus tracks. Let me just say they blew me away! Bringing credit to those who would describe the album as a fusion of folky and heavy metal roots, here’s two astonishing renditions of Black Sabbath‘s I and Rainbow‘s Stargazer. The late Ronnie James Dio couldn’t have asked for a better viking metal tribute. Personally, I find the latter especially well rendered, nicely balanced between being a faithful cover and instilled with a typical Týr flavour. If you somehow found the rest boring (unlikely, if you’re a Týr fan), these two covers will more than make up for it.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: Týr are still out there doing what they do best: being Týr. That should suffice to convince any die-hard and even not-so-die-hard fans that The Lay of Thrym is worth adding to your viking metal collection. Especially if you’re into the “softer” (but I would just say “more listenable”) side, the powerish-epic one, of it. Personal note: I found this album much better than the two altogether that they put out between 2006 and 2008. But actually, no comparison is needed to just enjoy The Lay of Thrym quite a lot. 7,5/10

Alestorm – Back Through Time (2011)

Aye, the fearsome Scots are back. With the third album in four years, and lots of ideas less than in the past. It may well be such a “haste” accounts for the lack thereof, but be it as it may, that’s a fact.

What’s funny, they actually unashamedly and blatantly admit it, making a whole song out of it (not by chance titled Scraping the Barrel), where they go so far as to advice that “if you don’t like it [the fact they've run out of creative gas], go start your own band”. What’s funnier, the song itself is a pretty nice piece, catchy as can be, and the album just gets better and better in the second half (the song is placed more or less in the middle).

But let’s try and go with order. Back Through Time is named after the first song, the idea behind which is pirates going back through time (you would’ve never guessed it, would you?..) to fight none less than those who used to wreck havoc on the seas centuries before them: the vikings. Yes, you can already tell by now they’re out of ideas. The song actually runs smoothly enough, as do the following; it’s nothing but the same old piratey folk-heavy metal – with a brief hint at blackish tones by the end of Death Throes of the Terrorsquid, the longest track of the lot which somehow reminds me of Finnish viking metallers Turisas.

Folk undertones (though it’s not like they really are confined to the background… but anyway) are massively to be heard on The Sunk’n Norwegian and on the drinking song (another obvious non-surprise) Rum, arguably the catchiest of all.

Rum raises the whole tone and tempo of the album, coming straight after the aforementioned Scraping the Barrel, on which a few words more ought to be spent. Other than displaying a rascal attitude which no doubt fits the pirate monicker perfectly, Alestorm admit they’re, well, quite literaly scraping the barrel. In doing so though, they also take the time to pay due to their legitimate and, so to say, most prestigious predecessors: “you may think you’ve heard all this music before / that Running Wild did it back in ’84″. To me, such a tribute amends the fault (but is it so in this genre, really?) of lacking fresh ideas and earns the album a positive review. There might be nothing “genial” about it, but it’s nonetheless clever and funny – and what else is this kind of music about? As a side note, it made me think of what they did on the promo copies of their previous album, where a piraty voiceover warned you in a not-so-piraty fashion that “argh, piracy is a crime”.

Midget Saw and Buckfast Powermash, closing the first half of the album, are perhaps the most blatant example of Alestorm reaching their creative boundaries. But there’s still some good energy left, and like I said that shows on Rum and the following. Swashbuckled also has a nice folky scent to it, and the melody does flow pretty well. Then comes the utterly useless (and pretty idiotic, if you like) six seconds of Rumpelkombo, which must have been intended as a homage (?) of some sorts. Not only didn’t I get it, but I find it an annoying (or just plain stupid) break right in the middle of the music flow. Of course you can just leave it out of your mp3 playlists, but on a CD that’s just an extra annoyance.

Anyway, the following Barrett’s Privateers kind of compensates for that questionable idea. It’s arguably the best track on the album, with a traditional folky melody and a bit of a pirate narrative which at least doesn’t meddle with minimum-quality fantasy or revels in overused concepts and repetitive rhyming. Death Throes of the Terrorsquid cuts quite a figure as the album’s finale, with a slower epic-scented tempo, before taking off towards the end to venture into black metal territory (not too long though, and in my humble opinion that’s just good); all in all a very good piece, with which Alestorm prove they can actually take that one step further, in spite of being stuck at the same old… same old, on the rest of the album.

The limited edition features two bonus tracks, both covers, the first being George Baker Selection‘s Paloma Blanca (renamed I Am a Cider Drinker on the ablum), and the second the infamous “pirate” hit You Are a Pirate. Not that they were much needed, but they grant an already short album some extra lenght, and they add to the fun all in all.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: Back Through Time does indeed take you back, though not much further than to Alestorm‘s previous chapter of their own pirate saga; even those claimed echoes of Running Wild‘s are but to be heard in the lyrics and not much else. Which is actually good; as Alestorm themselves sing, “the times are a’changing” and it would make no sense to try and copy the German pioneers of the genre nowadays. Pitifully though, there’s not much of a change to Alestorm‘s inspiration, and that might hurt them in the long run. But as for now, Back Through Time is a nice addition to your collection if you like what these Scots did so far, and the lack of freshness isn’t necessarily that much of a downside within this genre. 7/10

Roswell Six – A Line in the Sand (2010)

Some of you may remember (if I actually had any readers at all, that is!) I reviewed Roswell Six‘ first album, Beyond the Horizon, a while ago. For those who don’t, and/or can’t bother going look up for it again, I’ll summarise it all here: Roswell Six is a project conceived and put together by Kevin Anderson, American fantasy and sci-fi writer, with the help of famed keyboard player/composer Erik Norlander. In 2009, he gave his countryman the task of essentially write a soundtrack to the first book of his first planned fantasy trilogy, or so the book’s reviews read at that time.

Back then, I saluted the effort with much curiosity and interest, and I wasn’t disappointed at all: Norlander did quite an impressive job, especially if you consider it couldn’t be more of a side project for him than it was. With the help of a stellar cast of musicians, he managed to provide a very good prog metal soundtrack to a sort of book many would rather associate with epic, power metal. The album turned out to be very good in its own right, even as a stand-alone, and you didn’t need to know the book to appreciate it.

But then came the disappointments. First, the book itself turned out not to be all that good; maybe it was true, after all, that Anderson was trying his hand at that genre for the first time. But that has of course nothing to do with the music: the album still stands as a good proof to what multiple creative efforts can do together, and I still play it once in a while. What concernes me more here is that the second album (also paired to a book, of course) doesn’t quite follow in those same footsteps.

I have more than a strong suspect that is due to the shift in the command-chain. The project’s new helmsman is Henning Pauly of Frameshift fame and, though I can’t say a word on his talents (which are somewhat beyond questioning at that stage), I am nonetheless entitled to say I do not like what he did for Roswell Six, or atleast: the album is far less an enjoyable experience than its predecessor. Unless (and that’s a big unless) you prefer AOR and melodic rock to the more progressive side to it.

The shift’s gone right in that direction, carrying Roswell Six‘ sound from heavy though still melodic to a much more rocky, sometimes Rush-esque, sometimes pompous kind of sound that pretty much belies all of the official descriptions which depict it as “heavier” and whatnot. You might then expect the softer moments of the album to be handled better than previously, but that’s also a wrong guess. The ballad Loyalty doesn’t even come close to Beyond the Horizon‘s Letters in a Bottle. The strcuture is much looser this time, with no recognisable recurring theme (or at any rate, nothing that stands out enough to qualify) to bind the whole recording together, and a lot of dubiously fitting digressions in pomp rock territory. A prog rock/metal (call it as you may) backgroung to a fantasy book soundtack was still acceptable, but haven’t they gone a bit too far now?

It’s also hard to find anything that stands out in term of melody or ambience, and the best piece of the lot would probably have to be the heavier My Father’s Son. The 9 minute long Victory doesn’t manage to make up for the overall banality of the preceding hour-or-so, being a poor attempt at a short epic. The intrumental Battleground immediately preceding it, though more bearable than many other tracks, also doesn’t convince. I don’t know yet  whether this all was intended to fit the second book’s mood (which I doubt anyway, as said descriptions label it as a grimier follow-up to the first, or something of the sorts), but A Line in the Sand has nothing epic, nothing fantastic (literally and not), in short nothing that makes it worth more than perhaps one single chance.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: Roswell Six‘ Beyond the Horizon made hopes soar high of a succesful cooperation between a fantasy writer and prog rock musicians (first try of that kind to date, to my knowing), but A Line in the Sand pretty much dampens them. This is not to totally rule out a resurgence of the project when the time is ripe for the third and final act of the trilogy; meanwhile though, we’re left to long for Nordlander‘s savvy touch and the other musicians’ contribution to Beyond the Horizon. I’d only recommend A Line in the Sand to the real aficionados of the whole Terra Incognita trilogy thing; to the lovers of the concept album/soundtrack kind of thing, I can just honestly say: move on, there’s much better stuff for your needs out there. 5/10

Vainglory – 2050 (2001)

Let’s see if I can finally manage to do something creative. Being supposed to be studying as I am, I figured it was time for another review. So let’s give these guys some credit, both for keeping me away from my books and for deserving a mention here on my blog although they’re no household name (not that would’ve risen their chances, anyway).

So who are Vainglory and what are they about? The question is a tricky one, and here’s why: they’re no more what they used to be. And while that holds true pretty much for anyone anywhere, it does represent sort of a caveat when you’re sitting to reason and write about their music. Not that they’ve changed that much since the release of their first full-lenght to this day, but a major change did take place and it’s worth a mention – or rather, it will be when it’s time to review their second release.

As for now, let’s spend a few words about their debut, 2050. If the futuristic title made you guess their favoured lyrical themes are humanity and its future, you’ve just made an easy one. And if I add they’re also about society and its issues, with a touch of generic politics in a “protesting” flavour, then it also becomes easy to guess what Vainglory are up to musically. That’s right, it’s pure, (in)sane old thrash metal.

I find it hard to describe their sound without referring to a few “related” bands, but don’t get me wrong: that’s really no sign of a lack of personality or anything alike. Actually, Vainglory possess sort of a trademark sound (be it the sound proper, or their songwriting touch) you’ll much likely stuck on, making you want more and just keep listening. Provided you’re into their sort of thrash metal, of course, which is to say: true to the origins of the genre, without too many recollections of the 80′s (the album is not that old actually), and straight to the point, without any trace of the over-abundant techicality and complexity of the so-called tech- or math-metalmaticians of the genre. Simply put: this is pure thrash to the core, with a much more modern sound to it than the legendary beginnings (so no, no Metallica or Megadeth nostalgia), and far from the “progressive” turn of bands like, just to name one randomly, Mekong Delta.

If a comparison be drawn, two names would come to mind: Testament and Agent Steel. Again with a big flashing “beware” sign all across it: Vainglory are reminiscent of Testament, but their riffage is less complex and much more staccato-oriented; Bernie Versailles‘ band actually goes much further in the direction of tech thrash than Vainglory do. But the songs are “in your face” and catchy enough to make 2050 a great debut that, just as the best do, leaves you wanting and hoping for more – which was apparently bound to come, but in an unexpected way (more on this some other time).

Vainglory is no mainstream band, even by the already narrow standards of the genre, so it’s no easy task to actually find some information about them. Not that you really need it in order to enjoy some good music, but it’s fair to know whom to thank for it, I think. So a quick search reveals the mind and arm behind it is guitarist Corbin King, who certainly knows what he does: riffing’s catchy, soloing is very good, never too complex and still ever interesting. I couldn’t find out if it’s also him behind the mic (or I couldn’t bother to look up further than I did), but whoever took the duty also did a great job. You gotta love the raw, rough singing style which perfectly fits the genre, even in the remotely balladesque Directive – I’d swear I could hear some Jack Black-like styleme here and there, but take that as a layman’s comparison. Also intriguing is the multi-layered short chorus by the end of Take Me Home, something that reminded me of Savatage‘s Chance (also a long shot, but it’s just to give an idea).

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: On the whole, 2050 is a pretty good record, capable of keeping you attentive and even bewildered here and there (a thought might cross your mind, why didn’t they get the attention of many and more famed colleagues?), the perfect fit if you’re in the mood for some good old (though, and I stress it for the third time, somewhat polished and “modernised”) thrash metal played with what some would call “balls” and a proper dictionary “attitude”. You won’t need many spins (but you’ll want them, that’s my guess) to like the opening Fight Till the Death We Must, The Executioner and The Lost and Found, as well as CCF later on the record. And that’s just to mention the most memorable ones. In a word: the whole album is worth a solid many listenings, especially if you’re up for some good tasty thrash. 7/10

Charlemagne – By the Sword and the Cross (2010)

I struggled a bit whether to put this project mastermind’s name into the title, as it is customary sometimes. Nor will I deny that is just how I got interested in it in the first place. In the end I decided not to because the album title was already too long. But I might as well stop dawdling and just speak the name: Christopher Lee.

Yes, that Christopher Lee. The world-famous actor (the younger will atleast remember him for his portrayal of Saruman in The Lord of the Rings movie rendition) is the mind behind this project. Not entirely new to the metal music scene, Mr Lee already lent his voice for some snipets of narration in three of Rhapsody of Fire‘s albums and also did some actual singing on their Symphony of Enchanted Lands II. He also worked with power metal pioneers Manowar on their album Battle Hymns MMXI, a reissue of their debut album which featured, in Lee‘s current role, none less than Orson Welles.

Lee‘s deep characteristic voice has earned him through the years a well-deserved recongition as a very good narrator and voice actor, but it’s impossible not to think of him first and foremost as a movie actor. Not quite coincidentally, he also holds the Guinness world record for most film acting roles ever (by appearing in 266 movies). So what does he have to do with metal music, and what with Charlemagne anyway?

While the first may be answered by the aforementioned collaboration with a few power metal greats, the second requires a little bit of explanation. Lee is in fact a descendant to the famed first Holy Roman Emperor, and his family has even gained permission to bear and use his coat of arms, making the claim all in all pretty serious. My fair guess would be he’s always been interested in his own family history, to the point he decided to dedicate it some creative effort… as unexpected as the “field” he chose can be.

But in all honesty, and to finally get straight to the point: By the Sword and the Cross is not strictly what you’d call a metal album. It does have some heavy metal elements here and there, but they’re so scattered and overwhelmed by totally different components that it wouldn’t be fair to label it “metal”. It comes much closer to sort of a metal opera, with an asterisk next to that “metal” then. Actually, it’s more of a stage musical intended for a theatrical rendition, or atleast that’s the sort of thing it would fit best. If you’re familiar with it, and I’m afraid not for this kind of stuff never seem to get enough attention, I’d put it next to Alan Parsons‘ Excalibur trilogy. An orchestral opera with a lot of narration and a slight scent of metal in the corners, thanks to some shy but nonetheless fitting guitar work – that’s what By the Sword and the Cross is. Another somewhat close relative could be the much more famed Trans-Siberian Orchestra, though “the metal” plays a much bigger role there.

By the Sword and the Cross is an hour-long, well produced and played, operatic concept album about Charlemagne, dealing with some of his military campaigns and his legacy as emperor. Needless to say, Lee plays his royal ancestor, and the voice acting (I still can’t force myself to really call it “singing”) is superb, conveying the character’s strenght, wisdom and, in one word, majesty. The music, composed by Italian composer/producer Marco Sabiu, provides a very fitting background to the narration, coming to the fore in various places, like (quite expectedly) the instrumental Overture and final rendition of The Bloody Verdict of Verden, which (in the normal version) also happens to be the closest to something metal. A couple of tracks aside (Finale and Iberia, both at the end of the album), the record’s structured right as a sort of drama: five “acts” follow one another in a well-ordered narration, each of them being divided into a spoken intro (read aloud by a female voice actor – Mr Lee isn’t all over the place!) and a song in its own right. These are King of the Franks, The Iron Crown of Lombardy, the already touched on The Bloody Verdict of Verden and The Age of Oneness out of Diversity. Each of them features Lee in what we may call the head role, and a couple of other characters in minor roles. Like I said, the music is very fitting and makes up for the narrative parts some may find too long. Some epicness is there to find, but it’s nothing that will blow your mind; if you were thinking of Blind Guardian, Edguy and so when you saw title and cover and read a bit about this album, you’re definitely off track.

THUS SPAKE THE CENNSOR: Still, By the Sword and the Cross is a nice album that stands as a testimony to the admirable creativity of somebody who might as well being resting on his laurels, after all he’s accomplished (and still is), in fields that are much more likely to draw him attention and fame than an underground music genre like metal. At the not so ripe (and he’ll excuse me) age of 88, Mr Lee has showed where creativity, an imaginative mind and a will as sharp and strong as his voice can lead. Not only; ’cause he won’t stop here. The Charlemagne project is in fact scheduled to release a follow-up to By the Sword and the Cross, titled The Omens of Death, later this year. Definitely something to keep an eye on if you enjoyed the very professional and convincing first try. Which you will, if symphonic music with an epic theme and flavour appeals to you. 7/10