by Prog Nick
I
openly admit that I am a Magenta fanatic – I have loved this leading
Welsh Prog band for years. Having made that statement (but no apology
for it), I am tasked with giving an objective analysis of Magenta’s long-awaited new album, “We Are Legend”. (Buy it this Friday on Bandcamp)
Magenta officially
comprises keyboard virtuoso/producer/composer Rob Reed, massively
underrated guitarist Chris Fry, and award-winning vocalist Christina
Booth. On this album, they are joined by regular live bassist Dan
Nelson, and respected new drummer Jon ‘Jiffy’ Griffiths. Rob’s brother
Steve contributes the lyrics.
Something that first attracted me to
Magenta, particularly 2004‘s sophomore release “Seven” (one of my
all-time favourite albums), was their ability to conjure Yes-like
mindscapes, and make me feel the same sense of musical wonder that Yes
created in the early 70’s. This was true Classic Prog, 21st Century
style, with a stunning female vocalist. In Reed’s own words “Current
prog bands are always scared and shy about admitting the influences of
the great bands of the 70’s, and I wanted to…admit and celebrate those
influences, and hopefully create something as worthwhile as those
classic bands”. This he did, and we loved it.
One aspect that
remained constant in Magenta’s earlier work was the extant presence of
melody in every song. Melody emphasized by the unique combination of
Reed’s composition and keyboard chops, Fry’s six-string excellence and
Booth’s magnificent voice.
But after “Seven”, a few of the band’s
releases variously displayed Reed’s penchant for wanting to “try
something different”. This need, which was perfectly understandable for a
musician of Reed’s stature, has, at times, resulted in varied
responses, particularly when tougher or darker sounds were created (for
example on 2008‘s “Metamorphosis”). There were, of course, many
excellent moments on every album the band recorded, but the consistency
of melody to be found on “Seven” was at times elusive. This matter was
clearly and firmly addressed with Magenta’s 2013 release, “The
Twenty-seven Club”. The latter was a clarion call, announcing that the
classic sound of Magenta had returned. Very few people had a
negative word to say about that album.
Which brings us to 2017,
and guess what? When the new release was announced, Magenta’s eager fans
were again informed that Reed was going to “try something different”.
“Why,” I asked myself, “after the brilliance of The Twenty-Seven Club,
would this great band want to change a thing?” I anticipated this
release with a little trepidation, because I did not want the band that
produced “Seven” and “The Twenty-Seven Club” to change. And honestly, I
did not think that 2013’s masterful release could be bettered.
Well,
dear Reader, you will be happy to know that my paranoia was completely
unfounded. Change can indeed be good, and Mr Reed and his cohorts have
just proved it. While this album is neither a repeat of “Seven” or “The
Twenty Seven Club”, and it is in parts, even a departure from the
Magenta of old, it is nonetheless brilliant in a different, yet still
familiar way. While innovative and modern, it somehow remains faithful
to the band’s classic roots, and is immensely fulfilling.
“We Are
Legend” is comprised of one 27-minute epic and two shorter songs. Does
this sound familiar? Well, you will be pleased to know that while
Magenta have referenced their 70’s influences where necessary, they have
also proceeded to innovate without compromise where they felt the need
to do so, and the result is spectacular.
“Trojan” is a dystopian
sci-fi story of war against machines attacking mankind from the ocean. A
27 minute journey, with several distinct parts, it starts with eerie
keyboard sounds and a gentle melody that explodes into a heavy guitar
passage – Magenta mean business. Early on, forceful new recruit
Griffiths makes his presence felt, and while Reed and Fry call the
instrumental shots, Nelson and Griffiths admirably complete an already
formidable attack. We are under way, and Booth’s magnificent voice is
introduced in one of the most powerful, driving verses that Magenta have
created. A superb middle section, presenting the melody in gentler
fashion, gives way to a stylish Fry solo at the sixth minute, after
which Booth and the rest of the band play call-and-answer in a manner
familiar to Magenta fans, but this time with a sci-fi twist.
There
is a clear intention on this piece to give each performer a chance to
shine, and this is in every manner successful. Above all, the song has
every perspective you would desire in a Prog epic. Expect tenderness and
anger, weight and light, dizzying mixed imagery, theatrical delivery,
distinctly different parts stitched together into a common theme, and a
strong pull at every one of your emotions.
The band is in top form
and precision is the order of the day. Griffiths’ fills are perfectly
worked out often to be exactly what Fry and Nelson are playing – it’s a
considered performance, with every stroke carefully prepared, one
believes, under Reed’s guidance. Fry’s guitar work, as always, is
staggering. He performs jazz progressions with deceptive ease, and his
interludes of acoustic picking are particularly tasteful. Of course his
electric solos are, without exception, astounding. One also feels that
Nelson, who despite his regular live appearances, recorded with Magenta
for the first time here, has hit his stride with great precision and an
immense sound. It goes without saying that Booth and Reed are
magnificent performers, and deliver to the highest levels, as they
always have.
With a song this length, the band is given room to
breathe, and the composition goes through many peaks, valleys and
everything in between. The main guitar solo is pure Floyd, and will
unashamedly entice any Gilmour devotee. The gentle middle interlude
gives Booth the scope to sound like an angel, with lyrics like ‘I look
around in disbelief, our history is what brings me back to you.’ Her
versatile voice goes from anguished wail to gentle caress, and reminds
us that she more than deserves her numerous awards and accolades.
Griffiths provides a roto-tom-like solo that is reminiscent of Pink
Floyd’s “Time”, which leads into a section where Reed syncopates new-age
keyboard effects with Griffiths’ double bass drum (possibly intended to
conjure the huge robots marching forward). This in turn leads into a
guitar riff that is pure Magenta and could have been on “Seven”.
Finally, a gargantuan modern rock passage leads to an ending of
consolation and peace. Are you getting the picture? It’s classic Magenta
mixed with “something new”.
“Trojan” stands up with the best that
Reed has delivered. Technical wizardry and copious instrumental
dexterity are there, but they are never allowed to stand without
reference to melody, which always commands the composition.
If
there is a criticism to be made, it might be that sometimes Steve Reed’s
lyrics can be stylistically repetitive. (For example he often to starts
a line with a present participle such as ‘hoping’ or ‘thinking’, or an
infinitive such as “to grow’ or ‘to live’.) This can become noticeable
in its regularity, but a lyricist so prolific can be forgiven this
foible.
Second song “Colours” is about Vincent van Gogh. It starts
with what sounds like the music from a child’s toy or musical box,
before exploding into a veritable layer cake of tortured progressive
sound – as tortured as the man it describes. If the song is about the
palette of a genius, the musical colours painted by the band conjure
just that. Booth almost spits out the lyrics when adopting van Gogh’s
persona, and she perfectly evokes his madness. The middle section once
again features Fry in full Gilmour mode and Reed channeling Rick Wright.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. The toy music returns to
usher in an anguished build-up on organ, guitar and vocals, all
counterpointing magically. Griffiths’ precision and tightness again
display why he is the right choice for the Magenta drum throne. As van
Gogh’s life reaches its tormented end, the band keep pace with the theme
in a slow whirlwind of calculated musical madness, ending in quiet
resignation. “Colours” is a great song that shows Magenta at their
startling best.
“Legend” is a driving behemoth of a song about the
last survivors on Earth, starting in 7/4 timing. Angular and pointed in
its attack, melody is again not forgotten in the verses and choruses
which are a perfect vehicle for Booth’s emotive range. Lots of modern
sci-fi sound effects, created by studio artifice, are woven into the
tapestry of the song (another “something new” for Magenta), but again,
Booth’s melodious voice saves the song from the ordinary or the
artificial. Fry’s solo is immense, and Booth’s refrain of “Its Over”
will move you to tears. The final passage, a pastoral then triumphant
slow-march to bliss, reminds us of the 70’s Yes influence that made us
fall in love with Magenta to begin with. The closing of this passage
ends the album on a massive tympanic climax.
The album’s excellent artwork has a dystopian sci-fi combat look that reflects the central themes in the music.
Despite
challenges posed by Booth’s recent illness and some personnel changes,
Magenta have never gone away. They are here to stay, and while there
might be a new flavour, new members and some new sounds, the bedrock of
tasteful 70’s Prog that is classic Magenta has also not gone away. It
just has a new twist.
I could easily have been disappointed by
this release, because “The Twenty Seven Club” created very high
expectations for me. But that is not even mildly the case. Magenta have
once again extended themselves beyond what any reasonable fan can
expect, and have delivered something classic that will appease diehard
fans, but also something new that might just conjure a new audience.
On the strength of this album, I remain a Magenta fanatic, and once again, make no apology for that.
Released on April 27th, 2017
Tracklisting:
1-Trojan 26:09
2-Colours 10:47
3-Legend 11:33
Ian Boddy continues to democratize the art of the modular with another compilation of even more daring emerging artists. He blows hot and cold with a fabulous split between complexity and ease. As much as there are tricks that require a little more patience, there are other tricks that catch us at the first attempt. This perfect balance supports the curiosity of discovery that can be done at the risk of our ears. But don't worry, what you'll find horrible on the first listen has the potential to be discovered with a new face while you push your experience of discovering the below of No.5 INTEGERS AND QUOTIENTS. (Buy it this Friday on Bandcamp)
Incantation comes from afar! Its distant breath accosts our ears with shimmering effects drawn in keyboard riffs. A ghostly shadow whispers a hooking melody while the riffs are structured in aggressive and repetitive loops. The bass line is monstrous in this title of Hélène Vogelsinger. It extends its hold which receives the texture of looped riffs that is not really far from Clara Mondshine's vocal effects. Iterations is one of the few tracks that seduces from the start. The notes of a nostalgic piano fall, as if abandoned by the pianist, in a universe of noise and static. They dance and twirl in the roundness of a double bass, creating this unexpected slow dance under a sky darkened by these strange noises and the telegraphy code disputes that become more and more nervous. Do I hear synth-guitar tears wailing in this canvas of devastation? Still, the track takes a livelier tangent with a rhythm running continuously towards a road to freedom. A superb track by Raffael Seyfried with good arrangements and an optimistic cinematic vision. Waving and Drowning brings us into the universe without tenderness of Stephan Whitlan. A cosmic wind and its stars are sucked into a huge black hole that struggles to contain its immense waves of woosshh. This black hole has a transparent tubular shape where we witness the mutation of sounds and a first dialogue with an entity as evasive as these filiform lines filled with wiiissshhh. In short, a vague title where the sounds and flattened pulsations converge in an intense finale of its tonal template. This is the kind of track that my friends and neighbors don't understand! I fell in love with Johnny Woods' excellent album Pavilions, released last summer. Cuckoo is in the same genre with an oscillating wave and its harmonious fluctuations where the excessive beat of a clatter is lost. The movement is very Teutonic in its vision, but not in its rhythmic level. Synth pads connect by saying mouan, while other phonic elements focus on creating a web where each new element brings its shadow to dance tirelessly around Cuckoo. I hung on without difficulty to this huge mosaic where a fade-out remains the only option.
I've heard a lot of great things about Polypores, and Clocks, Unravelling only confirms my eagerness to discover this painter from Preston, England. The flow is as hyperactive as Cuckoo but with delicious jerks and slowdowns on the fractured flow of a rhythm built on diodes with desynchronized and arrhythmic current. Lisa Bella Donna is another artist of whom we say only good things. She has the longest track on No.5 INTEGERS AND QUOTIENTS. Electronic Study #26 is a track with prismatic ambiences with ectoplasmic vocals over an atonal structure. An eerie humming insinuates itself with the radiation of a bass without harmonies until reaching a phase of violence, scribbling waves and sound graffiti that annoyed me for a good 90 seconds. Let's just say that it's in the middle of the track that a second listening becomes a reviewer's job and not a music lover's pleasure! At this point in the album, Delusion comes at the right time. Matths manages to recreate the sounds of a train, still a bit psychedelic, in an EDM structure. This first sustained beat here is as catchy as lively and supports a splendid melody pushed from the tip of our lips. The second half, which follows a bridge of ambiences, offers us an electronic rock bend with big and shiny effects of the modular. A beautiful bomb which is followed by a very cheerful track of Chuck van Zyl. The Zanti Misfits is a dance of the sequencer whose curves and variations attract a bass line in rhythmic corridors as ambient one to end by pouring in a final whose arrangements give a surreal tint to the second part of The Zanti Misfits. Philippe Petit joins the pool of artists with more complex sound orientations. Flirting on a razor's edge, Delicate Elementum moves from cosmic reverie to the suffering of the waves with the same ease as saying hat! It's a track that at times is annoying, while at other times what is annoying is charming. So, a title that we will appreciate a little more, especially with the numerous videos that show how this modular EM is made.
There are geniuses in this album who are able to connect our eyes to their music! And that's the best thing about the art of modular; the ability to believe in the incredible. For my part, I found that No.5 INTEGERS AND QUOTIENTS proposes a nice balance in rhythm, in melody and in the unexplainable.
Sylvain Lupari (01/05/21) ****½*
SynthSequences.com
Available at DiN Records
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