McDonald & Giles (1971)

Anyone interested in searching out the many nooks and crannies in the annals of King Crimson related music should consider the lone album by original Crim-members Michael Giles and Ian McDonald. This 1971 release came about after the original lineup of King Crimson splintered upon returning to England from its U.S. tour. Michael Giles (along with his brother Peter) would hang around long enough to help record the second Crimson LP, but after that, it was on to other things for most of the original band members. Around the same time that In the Wake of Poseidon was being recorded, so was this little gem, which has been far more obscured by the mists of time than just about anything that ever bore the King Crimson name. 

With this information in mind, many people might hope McDonald & Giles to be In the Court of the Crimson King, part II. Forget about it. Don't expect brooding moods and ominous Mellotrons here. McDonald and Giles had intentionally done something different here and it shows. This album is decidedly more upbeat and pretty, but it does appear that the King Crimson experience left its mark on McDonald & Giles' music to a certain degree. 

What one may notice most quickly about McDonald & Giles is what appears to be an almost regressive trend in the music when compared with what King Crimson and most of its English underground contemporaries of the day were doing at the time this album was released. In many ways it seems McDonald & Giles takes a step back in time by a couple of years and almost totally eschews the trends that were occurring in the rock music of the day. At first listen, this album can seem almost quaint and old fashioned in comparison. Listening to the overtly Beatles-esque vocal harmonies of tracks like "Suite in C" and "Birdman" can almost make one forget that events like Led Zeppelin's fist album, Woodstock, Soft Machine's Third and Jimi Hendrix's entire life and recording career had already happened by the time this album was released in 1971. A more discerning ear, however, can hear how McDonald and Giles took these songs (some of which were written even before King Crimson had formed) and elaborated upon them in a manner that would suggest at least a slight effort to put a progressive spin on things.

The most obvious link to progressive rock would be found on the sidelong "Birdman" suite. This is one of progressive rock's earliest "sidelong epics" and it actually stands up as well as or better than some recorded by later, more famous bands. It's certainly not as elaborate or ambitious as a "Close to the Edge" or a "Supper's Ready", but it is remarkably cohesive and listenable for something that was recorded in the summer of 1970. This is a whimsical, unquestionably English tale adorned by absolutely delightful musical arrangement. Big orchestral crescendos (from a time when a group didn't have to be a million-seller for its record company to shell out for an orchestra) and dreamy vocal harmonies can put almost anyone in a nostalgic mood. Some very snappy rhythms for drum and bass over which McDonald blows some good sax and flute solos help ensure it's not all ariy-fairy nonsense. By the time it's all over, one may find oneself wishing for the days when the youthful optimism implied in this music and the hair and clothing styles pictured on this album's cover were actually in style. 

Other highlights include the long, multi-faceted "Suite in C", where a dense instrumental section complete with jazzy piano and lilting flute solos that briefly, but very closely, echo what King Crimson was doing at the time. Then there is the incredibly beautiful ballad "Flight of the Ibis", which uses the original melody to "Cadence and Cascade" (a very small portion of which will sound familiar because it was retained on that King Crimson track). While this track is a bit simpler than Crimson's tune, it rivals "Cadence and Cascade" in terms of sheer beauty - and the lyrics make more sense. 

There are a couple of truths that are overwhelmingly obvious upon listening to this album. One is how remarkably funky these white English guys could be - particularly the Giles rhythm section. The loose but forceful rhythms are so unusual for this kind of music and they are surprisingly prevalent in the mix. Another is that Ian McDonald and Michael Giles were incredibly talented musicians who were as important to the first incarnation of King Crimson as Robert Fripp and Pete Sinfield were. What a shame that Giles merely "disappeared into copious session work," - according to the liner notes to the Giles, Giles & Fripp CD - and that MacDonald's only real claim to fame after this was his association with the ubiquitous but infinitely bland Foreigner. The final overwhelming truth, - and perhaps sadder - is that they just can't and don't make music like this anymore. Even if a band or artist tried to recreate something like this, there would simply be too many factors that would prevent an accurate reproduction. The instrumentation, equipment and recording techniques alone today are largely considered relics. But even more rare today is the kind of imagination, talent and outlook that made this album utterly and irrevocably of its time. No one in rock music plays drums like this anymore. And who has sung these kinds of melodies in the last 30-plus years? The lyrics, music and even the color of the album cover suggest a "rosy" outlook on life that can seem irrelevant in these cynical, violent times, but it's hard to listen to this album and not wonder if something somewhere hasn't gone wrong in the years in between.

File this album up there with such celebrated proto-prog discs as Cressida's Assylum and the first Gracious. (Okay, Gracious! isn't all that celebrated, but it ought to be.) This is one of those albums that can nearly make one weep at its beauty while also making one nearly vomit at the state of popular music and the way and the reasons why it is made today. - Scott Hamrick [July 2003]

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Mellow Candle - Swaddling Songs (1972)

As a cross section of pyschedelia, folk rock and early progressive rock, the Irish group Mellow Candle released an absolute classic in 1972's Swaddling Songs.  Yeah, I've heard Trees and I've heard Fairport Convention, hell, even Renaissance, and this is better I tell you.  Mellow Candle featured two female vocalists, capable of the most most sublime of harmonies, who guide us through the album, along with exsquisite piano and guitar interplay.  Most importantly, the band displays an immense talent for subtle, enchanting songcraft of the highest order.  The album is made up of twelve tracks, rarely in excess of three minutes apiece, and is carried by impeccable melodic sense, infectious arrangements and unbridled, passionate performance.  Indeed, nary a moment is wasted on the whole album, as each compact, tuneful gem is matched by the following piece until Swaddling Songs comes to an end, far too early of course.

Really, as far as folk rock goes, this album is pretty much perfect.  What makes it refreshing I suppose, at least from a "prog" perspective, is the ability of main songwriter Clodagh Simmonds to write such, dare I say "accessible", melodies, yet without sacrificing compositional color, depth or instrumental interplay.  Indeed, many of the vocal harmonies in particular strike me as fairly sophisticated.  All of this wrapped in that gorgeous, intangible early 70s post-psychedelic atmosphere.  Those of you who scour liner notes might have noticed Simmonds' name on Mike Oldfield's early albums (along with drummer William Murray), so you may already be familiar with her enchanting vocals.  This is perhaps the most successful prog-rock/folk hybrid I've yet heard.  A classic. - Greg Northrup [February 2002]

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Metamorfosi - Inferno (1972)

Inferno is another one of my very favorite albums from Italy, and another gem in the rich crown of Italian prog.  Think ELP mixed with powerful Italian operatic vocals like those of Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, but with a darker atmosphere than either.  The music is heavily keyboard based, lacking guitars, and carried by the varied barrage of classic keys.  Usual suspects like Hammond and Moog are of course present, and exceedingly prominent.  The music is built around flashy and bombastic instrumental sections, which are offset by the vocal portions highlighted by the soaring bellow of Jimmy Spigalteri, who possesses an ominous, and awe-inspiring operatic tone that is quite simply exhilarating.  The album has its ups and downs, and generally the downs are the rare instances wherein the band gets bogged down in overly ELP-ish mechanical bombast, but the ups... wow.  There are moments on this album that simply defy explanation; hellish, beautiful passages that climax in thunderous passion with the overwhelming vocals.  Granted, Franceso DiGiacomo may be the best Italian singer in prog, but Jimmy Spigalteri isn't far off.  The melodies on here are absolutely spellbinding, exhuming blood and fire by way of searing Moog lines and savage Hammond riffs.

The album is a concept piece featuring short tracks all strung together to form a consistent whole, and I've read that the concept is loosely based on Dante's Inferno. Throughout the album, the music goes from dreary, doomy passages into tremendous upbeat, and rocking climaxes.  Highlights include the "Carronte" bit that leads into the majestic "Spacciatore di Droga", which features an infectious vocal and keyboard theme.  Also, the shuddering "Malebolge" passage has to be one of the most spectacular things I've ever heard, making for a moment of sheer prog ecstasy.  The entire album is full of high points, adding up to an essential pickup for anyone beginning to explore the Italian prog scene.  Indeed, novices would do particularly well to start with this album, especially if they like ELP.  Inferno is catchy, energetic and easy to get into, yet has a brilliance of composition and passionate feel that surpasses anything ELP ever did, while retaining the bombast and energy of that group.  Phenomenal. - Greg Northrup [2000]

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Mezquita - Recuerdos De Mi Tierra (1979)

Now this is what it's all about.  After I think I've really heard every essential album, I come across some obscurity that totally tears my head off my shoulders, rattles it around and then places it tactfully in my ass.  This album utterly rules.  Breakneck keyboard playing, blinding guitar and a perfectly executed rhythm section will blow you away from the beginning.  The band incorporates ethnic Spanish influences into the music, and the madness is perfectly wound around tight melodic themes with Arabic and Flamenco textures.  Occasionally a flitting Spanish acoustic guitar will come dancing into the mix, along with the extraordinary vocals that truly remind one of a Spanish street balladeer, but without coming off as cheesy.  The singer sings in an addictive ethnic tone and has some wonderful vocal intonations which add to an extremely emotional performance.  The whizzing Moog and chugging guitar are built around exotic key signatures the build into dramatic finales.  Everything is energetic, powerful, melodic and infectious.  There is absolutely no filler on the album, cutting it to a 35 minute platter of pure, unadulterated prog perfection.  This is indeed one of the very finest albums from Spain, and a perfect place to begin exploring that country's rich array of offerings. - Greg Northrup [February 2001]

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Microphones - Mount Eerie
[CD - K - 2003]

With Mount Eerie, the indie scene has once again given us a massive, ambitious lo-fi epic that shares progressive rock's spirit of expansiveness, experimentation and scope without having even a trace of 70s in its sound. The Microphones are known primarily for quiet, spooky indie-folk, but their most recent album finds Phil Elvrum creating a concept album about the Universe itself. The track titles are accompanied by explanatory descriptions such as: "III. Universe -- in which, coming out of the canyon in the dusk, you realize your ball of fire friend has set and doubt creeps in. A big beautiful dark backdrop asks you intimate questions and sings." Enlisted is a more-or-less all-star cast including Calvin Johnson (Halo Benders, Beat Happening, Dub Narcotic Sound System), Kyle Field (Little Wings) and Khaela Maricich (The Blow, Thunderclouds, Get the Hell out of the Volcano) -- each of whom is assigned a character such as "the Universe's question asker" or "the birds" or "Death," and each of whom sings one or two lines at most.

This may sound extraordinarily pretentious, and in a way it is. But the music is so good that it seems forgivable, not to mention so downright weird that it seems motivated more by insanity than by poor taste. Consider, for example, the 17-minute opener entitled "The Sun." It starts off with long ambient tones held under a thick layer of static and tape hiss. Acoustic guitar strumming is barely audible in the background. By a minute and a half, the cutoffs of the blocks of tape hiss have started to take on a subtle rhythm. By three and a half minutes, this rhythm is accompanied by drums. Shortly after five minutes, the drumbeats have become regular and are growing ever more insistent when suddenly they take on a manic tribal quality which persists, getting louder and more intense until Elvrum's charmingly off-key vocals finally enter nearly eleven minutes into the piece; his detatched recitative is ultimately consumed by a deafening crescendo of white noise.

Elsewhere, there are beautiful slowcore/folk passages, filtered ocean sounds, demonic choruses and drums distorted into industrial blasts. Elvrum does a conjuring act with his lyrics: when he says "trumpets," dissonant brass calls appear out of nowhere, and when he mentions a "close dark voice," Khaela Maricich's sensuous indie-girl vocals play the part to great effect. Occasional passages are just plain goofy, such as the passage in the title track that can only be described as trip-hop on crack: buzzing drumbeats, sing-songy chanting and aggressively rhythmic falsetto background vocals -- all with lyrics about death. But for the most part, the album has a melancholy tone. Whether it's the poignant, beautiful folk of "Solar System" or the hollow climax of "Universe", in which he asks, "How many times have I made up this song before?" -- nearly every time, the naiveté that critics so often remark on makes him sound like a child who's lost in a vast, unpopulated and unfriendly landscape.

If I have any criticism of Mount Eerie, it's a structural one. The album and most of the songs on it are fairly lopsided; for example, the title track has the aforementioned "trip-hop on crack" section towards the beginning, but nothing nearly so striking or aggressive at its other end. I also find the final track (also called "Universe") to be both less musically interesting and less poignant than the rest of the album. Still, these are minor reservations, and Elvrum gets my hearty congratulations simply for the balls it must have taken to make an album like this. And as for the prog-oriented audience who are most likely reading this review, give Mount Eerie a listen; just don't expect high production or a "trained"-sounding vocalist. - Alex Temple [February 2003]

Minus - Darklit (2001)

Hailing from the small Oregon based label New & Improv, Minus is an improvisational "power trio" with something of a dark, menacing style. Those familiar with Bozzio Levin Stevens or Attention Deficit wouldn't be surprised with what they find here. Dark Lit is noisy guitar/bass/drums improv rock, occasionally augmented with some synths, loops, and a little turntable work from label mate DJ Scratch 'n Sniff.

The use of programmed loops and other electronics adds a small extra dimension to Minus' sound, separating them from some of their improv rock colleagues. Don't expect electronica, however, as this is still first and foremost guitar-led rock - just with a sprinkle of dub.

Technically, they might not be as crisp as a Bozzio Levin Stevens, but they display maturity and avoid falling into the "let's turbo-jam!" pit trap of other projects like this. They occasionally get a bit jerky and spastic, and sometimes get locked into one riff for a bit too long. Fortunately, this is the exception rather than the rule. "Acidflesh", easily the highlight of the album, demonstrates the strength of the band: the guitar and drums run circles around a steady looped melody and synth moans.

As is often the case with improv, there are a lot of ups and downs. At their best, Minus are intriguing and entertaining improv rock. At their worst, they're meandering and mediocre. Dark Lit, for the most part, manages to stay away from the latter. There really isn't anything that's completely mind-blowing, but Dark Lit has enough high points to recommend to fans of the style. - *Legion* [January 2001]

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Missus Beastly - Missus Beastly (1970)

The German label Garden of Delights has always done a great job of faithfully reissuing long sought-after collector's items and excellent archival releases.  In the case of these underground German rock legends, a discographical problem that has long gone uncorrected has finally been rectified.  Missus Beastly's first, self-titled album was bootlegged and released by their former manager as Nara Asst Incense, with a different track order and cover.  This is the release that was subsequently bootlegged for the CD generation by Germanofon, and became the most readily available version.  The legitimate first edition of this record has traditionally cost hard core collectors of German rock between $500 and $900 a copy.  The 2002 issue by Garden of Delights represents the first proper CD issue of the legendary album, with original artwork and track listing restored.

It should be noted that this tends not to be their most universally lauded album.  That would go to the 1974 record, which is also self-titled (confused yet?).  In any case, the original Missus Beastly remains important for both musical and historical reasons.  Giving us an early look at the immensely eclectic German rock scene, the album was recorded between jam sessions with band members of Krautrock gods Amon Duul II and future members of Embryo.  In short, it rocks hard, and practically epitomizes the crazed, psychedelic, no-holds-barred intensity that made the movement so special.  Sure, it's a little primitive at times, but that's really much of the charm.  The wild guitar freakouts and grinding, hellish organs of "Uncle Sam" give way to bluesy Bayou vocals and an extended, almost Canterbury-esque, organ solo in "Shame on You".  The blues aspect turns up again heavily on tracks like "Mean Woman", as 12 bar bass dirges underlie mournful verses alternating with emotionally charged guitar solos, all the while coated with playful organ commentary. Often, things end up sounding like a sloppier (in a good way) Soft Machine, or a more atmospheric Out of Focus.  An excellent, jammy album that will surely please connoisseurs of early German psychedelic rock. - Greg Northrup [July 2002]

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Mogwai - My Father My King (2001)

My Father My King harkens back to the earlier, more explosive Mogwai, circa Young Team (or their early singles recordings, as documented on the Ten Rapid CD compilation on JetSet). While those earlier recordings would sometimes lose their coherency among the chaos, the band now does a better job of keeping things on track. This is a refined Mogwai, if ever such a thing could exist - here, as in their other recent releases, the band has found something of a happy medium between the rawer and more aggressive early romps and their polished but uninspiring Come On, Die Young album.

The sticker on this CD's shrink-wrap touts this as "Mogwai at their most extreme and intense", and calls the music "two parts beautiful serenity and one part death metal". In truth, neither of these boasts are particularly accurate. Anyone that has heard the blasting noise-fest that concludes 4 Satin knows that Mogwai has been to further out extremes. In actuality, the noisy climaxes here are not as menacing as even the same sort of parts on Young Team... death metal it ain't. That's not a bad thing, however, as control and restraint (relatively speaking, of course) have served Mogwai well. Save for perhaps the noisy feedback laden denouement, there is a steady sense of precision and craftsmanship running through the music.

At the heart of this piece is a simple Jewish melody, which is beautifully played and then subsequently twisted and put through the wringer. Despite being well done, the piece is somewhat predictable to someone familiar with most of the band's work. The main melody resides in the hands of the guitarists, who alternate their instrument's tone between clean tones and harshly fuzzed-out distorted ones. Eventually, the tension (and volume) build up to a blasting climax, where layers of distortion and feedback obscure the once holy Hebrew theme. Nothing is sacred anymore as the amplifiers near meltdown, and the musicians near breakdown. As exciting as that might sound to the uninitiated, the fact is that it's merely par for the course for the Mogwai follower. However, that doesn't take away from the fact that it is 20 minutes of prime, enjoyable Mogwai. Just avoid reading too much into the cover sticker, and you're set. - *Legion* [January 2002]

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Steve Morse Band - Split Decision (2002)

Best known for his virtuosi work in the seminal Dixie Dregs, Steve Morse has also spent time with bands such as Kansas and Deep Purple, and through it all has managed to foster a fairly prolific solo career.  His latest album, Split Decision, suffers from something of an admitted identity crisis, acknowledged in both the liner notes and album title.  The first half of the album is the kind of instrumental, rollicking guitar work many of us have come to expect from Morse.  Despite his tasteful solos and impeccable melodic instincts, much of this half does little to differentiate itself from the leagues of guitar-led instrumental ensembles I've heard.  Good ideas abound, for sure, but for me this is redundant territory.

Starting with "Moment's Comfort", the album really takes off.  Indeed, the second half of Split Decision is essentially another album entirely, this time focused on a mellower, more melodic approach, rife with pleasing acoustic entrances and a grand symphonic flourish.  The solos here are crisp, biting, and nothing if not emotive.  Although the sappiness factor often makes for an obvious point of criticism, Morse just as often trips across something extraordinary.  Take the aforementioned "Moment's Comfort", or the sublime guitar runs of "Midnight Daydream", and the heartfelt acoustic romp of "Back Porch", all of which reveal a striking emotional palette.  This album does suffer from some degree of discontinuity, and perhaps would have been better served, as a whole, if the "mellow" and "rocking" pieces weren't so self-consciously segregated.  As it stands, this is an album with enough spectacular moments to at least rouse the interest of the uninitiated, while the Steve Morse devotee will likely find the entire effort comfortingly enjoyable. - Greg Northrup [February 2002]

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Morte Macabre - Symphonic Holocaust (1998)

Symphonic Holocaust is an excellent album made up of incredibly doomy dark progressive rock, yet one that took me a very long while to really get into.  Morte Macabre is sort of a concept band, made up from members of Landberk and Anekdoten, two of the more prominent bands from the recent wave of Scandinavian prog.  Here, the band covers themes from a number of 70s horror soundtracks, such as City of the Living Dead, Zombie and, most recognizably, the haunting closing theme from the classic Rosemary's Baby.  These are mixed in with a couple of originals, including the 18-minute title track.  Musically, this is immensely atmospheric and haunting music, with gobs of mellotron and a rumbling heavy undercurrent that reminds both Anekdoten and, of course, Starless-era King Crimson.  Another influence is clearly Goblin, and the band even does a rendition of their "Quiet Drops" from the Italian flick Beyond the Darkness.  

The album is pretty much all instrumental, based around rumbling bass riffs and layers of mellotron.  Reine Fiske's guitar work is exquisite, stabbing through the air in haunting fashion.  Minimal, darkly colored passages are lit with faint snatches of melody, and build into and then back away from moments of sheer torrential fury.  This must be played very loud for full effect. The opener "Apoteosi del Mistero" is incredible, being an exquisitely composed piece of towering 'tron melodies.  Another ear-catching highlight is the aforementioned "Lullaby", which features an eerie female vocal chant that definitely provides a contrast from the general din.  "Quiet Drops" is the Goblin cover, and is highlighted by Fiske's extraordinary playing, building up from simple guitar strands into a monstrous piece.  The highlight of the album however, is the closing epic.  This song apparently had parts improvised in studio, and definitely gives off that kind of vibe at points.  The song builds *very* slowly around repetitive, hypnotic themes, but by the end is a hurricane of fiery bass lines, thundering drums and of course, godly amounts of mellotron.  This song most recalls prime King Crimson, and listening to it as I'm writing reminds me exactly how much it kicks ass.  Incredible.  Overall, Symphonic Holocaust is an extremely solid buy for those into dark and moody instrumental music, especially when so generously inspired by the almighty King Crimson.  The album may take a little while to sink in, but is definitely intense and rewarding upon frequent listening.  An good example of what's currently right with progressive music. - Greg Northrup [April 2001]

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Mr. Bungle - California (1999)

This album is essentially an assault on pop.  Styles of popular music from the 50s on are adopted, imitated, and then twisted into something totally different.  Genre boundaries are blurred, and orchestral pop is infused with electronic noise.  Lyrics are cryptic and elaborate, with truly bizarre prosody that suggests that the music was written first and the lyrics added as an afterthought: "how can I MAS-sage this in-TER-galactic ul-CER?"  Some hardcore Bungle fans say the band has sold out, but to me this album feels more like destroying the enemy from within.

Take, for example, "None Of Them Knew They Were Robots."  It's a pretty straightforward product of the late-90s swing-revival -- except for the string orchestra tone clusters, electronic bleeps, whole-tone passages, sound effects, and occasional lyrics in Latin.  Even the English lyrics are an unholy union between philosophical meanderings and typical swing fare: "lindy-hop around the truth"? Or take "Vanity Fair."  This is a bit of almost polytonal doo-wop, with abrupt key changes and unsettling irregular bass motion, and a middle section that sounds like Univers Zero played by a lounge band.  Again, the lyrics are ridiculously intellectual: "I'm elated / I could cut you / And remove the sheath of your ignorance..."  And yes, that IS pronounced "ig-NOR-ance." Why not?

Other pieces defy even this kind of description:  "Ars Moriendi" combines Arabic tonalities with fragments of polka, metal, and even something reminiscent of the Ghostbusters theme song.  "Goodbye Sober Day" starts out as Latin pop, but over the course of its four and a half minutes manages to include everything from Middle Eastern chants to pounding noise, and even the Balinese kecak or "Monkey Chant."  Perhaps the most amazing thing about these songs is that, despite their incredible silliness, they actually do seem to work as music.

True, not everything on the album works:  Parts of "Retrovertigo" and almost all of "Pink Cigarette" get far too close for comfort to the saccharine quality of genres they mock (although the bleeps that "censor" the end of the latter keep it from being totally intolerable).  For the most part, though, Mr. Bungle pulls off this conceit marvelously -- probably because the best songs on California are, surprisingly, informed by a real talent for pop melodicism.  While some of the album is primarily silly and secondarily good music, the best songs remain enjoyable even once the humor has worn off.  "The Air-Conditioned Nightmare" is a good example, with truly beautiful, slightly dissonant vocal harmonies and a section of Middle Eastern-tinged surf rock, in which the spoken words that bounce back and forth between the speakers are somehow enormously satisfying. The wind-up electro-gospel-disco of "Golem II: The Bionic Vapour Boy" also succeeds on a higher level: under all the absurd genre-bending, the song is just damn funky -- and the voice distortions and video-game synths only make it that much more fun.

I should probably mention that I got this album at a time when I was heavily into indie-pop, from the Essex Green to the Olivia Tremor Control.  There is a certain sweetness to this album -- an edgy sweetness, but a sweetness nonetheless.  If you can't dig that, well... maybe you should try Disco Volante. - Alex Temple [December 2001]

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Museo Rosenbach - Zarathustra (1973)

Museo Rosenbach's only album, Zarathustra, is another one of the clearly essential Italian albums.  Firmly entrenched on the heavier end of the Italian spectrum, this is of the defining 'heavy-prog' albums.  The music is undeniably dark, completely glorious and proceeding with bombastic classical grandeur, dominated by surging guitars, blazing Hammond leads and of course the omnipresent mellotron.  The band competently moves through occasional quiet moments with nice flute and mellotron before ripping into massive metallic bowel shaking riffs with godly mellotron weaving in and out of them.  Earth shattering.  The vocalist has a nice bluesy, throaty voice that lends itself excellently to the proceedings.  Of course, being Italian, the melodies here are phenomenal, and Museo Rosenbach manages to weave a gorgeous melodic web in with their brute force, pulling everything together in moments of shuddering climax.

The first five tracks on here make up the lengthy title suite, which stands as one of the most solidly composed side-long epics in the progressive rock tradition, leaving little, if any breathing room between consecutive mindblowing passages.  The rest of the album is pretty much just as good: addictive, melodic pieces with a dark, aggressive undercurrent. Zarathustra is one of the truly essential Italian classics. - Greg Northrup [2000]

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Muvovum - XOX-Alekwrt (2001)

Hailing from the not-so-hotbed of avant action that is New Orleans, Muvovum are a quartet informed by twentieth century classical composition and the more avant-garde side of the Canterbury family tree. Grinding organ and fuzzed out bass recall Soft Machine circa Third, while the compositional style is reminiscent of early Henry Cow (Legend, Unrest). Even the more somber moments of Matching Mole come to mind, and also the Muffins on <185> or Open City, although Muvovum takes a sparser and more minimalist approach than most of these bands. Muvovum began in 1997 as an improvisational trio, and this shows in their current work; while the songs are complex and composed, there is a free flowing energy that brings to mind an improvisational nature to the short, structured pieces. Many of the shorter pieces segue into each other as well, providing a continuation of a similar thread through out many of the songs. We do get a taste of what the band can really do with a chance to improvise, as the closing track is a complete improv.

The lo-fi production also aids in sculpture of the sound, as there seem to be no overdubs and a minimal amount of variety among the instruments; the textural changes seem to be produced by alternate tunings and minimal effects, various percussive items, and the synth-like sounds produced by modulation of the organ or piano. Astute playing from all makes for tight ensemble interplay, with the tendency for the keyboards to be the dominant force pulling the songs ahead. There is little repetition, as themes are begun and reconstructed on the fly. It's refreshing to hear a band tackle this style again, and there is probably no finer band playing this music today (well, except for the Muffins who are back at it again). - Mike Prete [September 2002]

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