Horizont
The Portrait of a Boy
Boheme Music
1989, reissued 2000
promotional CD from Boheme Music

Is there any corner of the world that has not felt the influence of progressive rock? Even the former Soviet Union has produced a handful of progressive rock groups. Among them was Horizont, a Russian band that recorded two albums in the second half of the ‘80s: Summer in Town and The Portrait of a Boy. Both recordings are compelling releases, the latter of which being the more ambitious of the two.

The Portrait of a Boy is indicative of the group’s interest in the Rock in Opposition school of progressive rock, specifically as practiced by such “chamber prog” groups as Univers Zero and Present. Horizont’s compositional style is greatly influenced by these two groups, but in instrumentation the band relies much more heavily on synthesizers (specifically digital ones) than Univers Zero or Present ever did. Horizont is also not quite as oppressively dark as these two bands. While The Portrait of a Boy features some very challenging music, there is a subtle element of fun that is missing in the music of the two aforementioned Belgian bands. It’s hard to imagine Horizont taking themselves as “deadly” serious as Univers Zero did. In Horizont’s case, it seems to have been all about the music rather than any kind of manufactured image.

The Portrait of a Boy is comprised of five mostly instrumental pieces, the longest of which is the 20-minute opener “The Portrait of a Boy, Suite in 3 Movements.” The first movement is characterized by a repetitive, ominous bass line which supports a duet for guitar and synth. This is briefly punctuated occasionally by a celebratory melody played on piano, thus creating an off-kilter atmosphere. This unpredictability is reinforced with shifts in meter and stop/start rhythms. The second movement is where things start to get really weird. Grotesque, buzzing synth sounds play an incongruous melody that sounds like something an organ grinder would play in the streets of some ancient European village. The melody is nice, but the synth sounds are hard to swallow. Fortunately, this movement is only a couple of minutes long and the third movement comes to the rescue. Here the drummer gets a chance to let loose a bit as he propels this quick, rhythmic section through a variety of unusual melodies, eventually leading up to a rather grand closing section.

The second piece “Prelude Fis Moll” is a welcome respite from the schizophrenia of the first piece. This is a short, very somber piece played only on piano and synths masquerading as an accordion. It conjures up bleak images of life in some decrepit eastern European city where the scenery includes crumbling cathedrals, worn cobblestone streets and gray skies. It’s actually one of the best pieces on the album as the instrumentation sounds more organic and the composition less hectic than most of the other pieces.

Horizont may have started out trying to sound like Univers Zero, but they ended up coming up with something pretty original. The dark, neo-classical feel is there, but the extensive use of digital synthesizers, a penchant for juxtaposing almost comical melodies with somber ones, and a general quirkiness causes them to sound more like recent American RIO bands. There is even a striking similarity to some of the music of Hal Darling (see review and interview elsewhere on Reels of Dreams Unrolled) thanks to the complicated melodies, unpredictable, almost hyper drumming, and the heavy reliance on digital synths. Horizont was very ahead of their time, which is pretty amazing considering their relative isolation in Soviet-era Russia.

Enthusiasts of RIO and other fringe elements of progressive rock will enjoy discovering the music of Horizont. — SH

Visit the Boheme Music website. At the time of this writing, this album is available from Wayside Music.

Horslips
The Táin
Edsel Records
1973, reissued 2000
Manifest Discs & Tapes, Charleston, S.C.

One of the most important and fascinating attributes commonly found in progressive rock is the amalgamation or “fusion” of rock music with other styles. The number of variations is nearly limitless. Jazz, classical, electronic and numerous folk idioms from around the world have all made their way into the progressive rock melting pot. The inclusion of Celtic music is surprisingly rare, but at least one progressive band did bridge the gap between rock and traditional Irish music. In the case of Horslips’ The Táin the resulting mixture was a potent brew.

Released in 1973, The Táin was the second album for Horslips, a band whose style ranged over the course of its career from traditional acoustic Celtic music to prog rock to more commercial rock. The Táin is considered one of the band’s more progressive releases. Using a wide array of traditional acoustic instruments (flute, uileann pipes, mandolin, violin, concertina, banjo, etc.) and typical rock instruments, Horslips embraced a sound similar to the medieval-styled prog rock of Gentle Giant and Jethro Tull. Horslips may have been more authentic than either one of them, however, as they utilized traditional jigs and reels as the melodic foundations for much of their music. What’s more, The Táin is based on an ancient Irish saga called Táin Bo Cuailgne, the events of which are estimated to have taken place about 500 B.C. Such an established pedigree didn’t keep Horslips from infusing the whole affair with a good dose of rock energy though.

The Táin begins with a very short, strange instrumental which quickly dispels any notions one may have about this being either a typical rock or Celtic album. This fades into a second, all acoustic instrumental which goes in the opposite direction. Flute and concertina play a traditional melody that fades into the third song, where the styles of the first two tracks merge. Voila! Prog rock! Electric guitar and flute mimic each other melodically and some unobtrusive Hammond organ and catchy vocals appear. “Dearg Doom,” a couple tracks later, is a rock ’n’ roll stomper based on a traditional melody. This was apparently Horslips’ big show stopper that sent Irish fans into a frenzy whenever the band played live. Prog fans will probably derive the most enjoyment from the last track on the album, “Time to Kill!”. With its tricky rhythms and quick, serpentine melodies played by organ, guitar and violin, this piece sounds like it could have come straight off of a Gentle Giant album. It’s the best song on the album and a great finale.

Throughout the album the band veers back and forth between Celtic and rock music. Sometimes the two traditions mingle within a particular track while other pieces favor one style over the other. What is fairly consistent, however, is that the band never settles on one style for too long.

The only low point on The Táin is near the middle. “Cu Chulain’s Lament” and “Faster than the Hound” are back-to-back sleepers that destroy the momentum of the first half of the album. Two weak tracks out of 14 should not dissuade one from investigating this worthwhile album, however.

Long-time Horslips fans as well as neophytes will find much reason to rejoice in the fact that this and several other Horslips albums are now available on CD for the first time ever. — SH

Kaseke
Poletus/Sonum
Boheme Music
1983/1981, reissued 2000
promotional CD from Boheme Music

Hailing from 1980s Estonia comes what has been billed by some as "progressive fusion masters," Kaseke. This band, which spent its entire short-lived life behind the Iron Curtain, was sort of a supergroup. If the name Kaseke means nothing to you, then you probably won't recognize some of the other Estonian groups that contributed members to Kaseke — groups like In Spe, Ruja, Mess, and the punk band Propellor. If that last one scares you, don't worry — there is not one punkish quality to the whole CD.

This CD actually contains Kaseke's entire discography, which consists of one four-track EP titled "Sonum" (The News), and one full-length CD called "Poletus" (Burning). Kaseke had what could be considered a fairly normal line-up of drums, bass, two guitars, and flute, but also seemed to have a revolving-door policy on keyboards and synthesizers, with no less than five people tickling the electronic ivories on "Poletus" (and also contributing to the compositions themselves).

It probably should be mentioned that although I am a lover of jazz, what is commonly described as "fusion" can sometimes get lost on me. All too often it seems to remind me of music I would expect to hear on elevators or the Weather Channel, and yes, there are times on this album when I can imagine myself watching satellite images or a five-day forecast. Don't get me wrong: the musicianship on these recordings is solid, and there are definite moments of spark and flash that are worth listening to, but all too often the music seems to be just a little too watered down, a little too tame. If you've ever listened to this kind fusion you'll know exactly what to expect from 75 percent of this CD.

That being said, there are some stand-out moments and melodies on these albums, the most notable being "Näotused" or "Unsightliness", a relatively aggressive tune with some excellent playing on the part of everyone involved.

The bottom line? Although nothing to stand me on my head, Kaseke does have good musicians who create some excellent moments. It's a pity there aren’t more of them. — CH

Visit the Boheme Music website. At the time of this writing, this album is available from Wayside Music.

Kultivator
Barndomens Stigar
Ad Perpetuam Memoriam
1981
Wayside Music

Among the ranks of the great one-album bands in prog rock is Kultivator, a Swedish band, whose Barndomens Stigar is one of the best prog albums ever to come from that country. Besides being such a great album for a one-off band, what’s most amazing about Barndomens Stigar is that it was recorded in 1980, when prog rock was at its nadir of popularity and creativity.

Long before the current boom in interest in Scandinavian folk/rock mergers (fueled in part in the United States by the Northside label), Kultivator was fusing Swedish folk traditions with such unlikely elements as the Canterbury and Zeuhl branches of progressive rock. Picture Magma, Soft Machine and Hedningarna rolled into one band. It may be too hard to imagine, but it’s not too good to be true!

The dominant force on Barndomens Stigar is the lively Fender Rhodes piano and organ by Johan Hedrén. His keyboard work is very melodic and energetic. Never is it relegated to merely providing a soupy backdrop, as is typical with most symphonic prog bands. Fuzzy bass and vaguely Fripp-like guitar provide some power against which the band juxtaposes the lighthearted keyboard and innocent sounding, almost child-like female vocal melodies.

One of the best tracks on the album is the seven-minute “Kära Jord,” which is also the longest track. This piece begins with a driving Rhodes riff and female vocals. The rest of the band kicks in after a minute and proceeds through the riff toward a mid-section with a darker feel characterized by some ominous droning male vocals and a militaristic march rhythm — obviously inspired by Magma. Then the band returns to the original, sunnier sounding theme, adding scat-like vocals. Aside from this brief episode, Barndomens Stigar is a relatively happy sounding album, especially when compared with the music of other well known swedish prog acts.

Another great piece is the somewhat pastoral title track, which hints more at the influence of Scandinavian folk tradition thanks to the inclusion of acoustic guitar and recorder. Right in the middle of this track, however, is a Dave Stewart-inspired organ solo.

Throughout Barndomens Stigar the compositions are harmonically rich and the musicianship is tight but never flashy or self-indulgent. Kultivator’s strong point was finding a good melody and running with it. Building tension in the traditions of the best of Magma and King Crimson was apparently a priority as well, though Kultivator never let it go quite that far. In fact, prog fans may find themselves wishing for more thematic development when listening to Barndomens Stigar, as most of the songs are a bit short by prog standards. Even with two good bonus tracks, the album itself seems to end too soon as well.

Leaving the listener wanting more is apparently the legacy to which Kultivator is destined. Barndomens Stigar was the first release on the Ad Perpetuam Memoriam label and has been out of print for a while. At the time of this writing it has just been rereleased. Buy this excellent, unique album now before it disappears again. — SH

Magma
“Floë Ëssi/Ëktah”
Seventh Records
1998
Wayside Music

The fate of Magma seems up in the air these days. The band came out of retirement and recruited new, talented young members in 1997. This resulted in various tours, including the first U.S. dates for the band in decades, and announcements that a brand new album was in the works. Then there were rumors that the band would break up after returning to play in the U.S. So far that return has not happened and the only recording that has surfaced is this CD single.

“Floë Ëssi/Ëktah” is a tantalizing but brief glimpse into what a 21st century Magma might sound like. The first track, (subtitled “La fille de la mer”) is less than three minutes long and sounds as if it could be an excerpt from a longer work. It is dominated by clear, lovely female vocals provided by Stella Vander and newcomer Isabelle Feuillebois in Magma’s trademark Kobaian language. A tricky melody played in unison by bass and guitar snakes its way through much of the piece while a Fender Rhodes electric piano (another old Magma trademark) comps some jazzy chords in the background. Throughout it all Christian Vander’s super-tight drumming continues to be some of the best on the planet.

The second track is called “Ëktah” (subtitled “Le Héros”) and is even better than the first piece. Here Vander dazzles the listener not only on drums but vocals as well. This track proves that many of the great male vocal parts on past Magma recordings, which were widely assumed to be those of erstwhile Magma vocalist Klaus Blasquiz, were actually Vander’s. This piece has a swinging, jazzy feel that’s far removed from Magma’s often dark, militant sounding music of the past. About three-quarters of the way through the song, however, the group throws in a couple of new themes that give the piece a more urgent, forward-moving feel while illuminating Magma’s continuing proclivity for tight, quick changes in direction.

Both of these pieces reflect the influence of Christian Vander’s post-Magma jazz excursions within his group Offering and on various other projects. While the music is significantly less heavy and strident than that of Magma’s classic albums, it shows growth and a willingness to expand upon the framework and vocabulary of those albums without sinking to the somewhat commercial (relatively speaking) levels of portions of Magma’s last couple of studio albums. Will “Floe Essi/Ektah“ be “The Last Nine Minutes”? One can only hope not. But if it is, at least Magma will have ended on a positive note. — SH

Klaus Schulze
Irrlicht
Thunderbolt/Magnum Music
1972
Wax & Facts, Atlanta, GA

As a drummer, Klaus Schulze was an original member of two of Germany’s most influential progressive bands. He played on the debut albums of Tangerine Dream and Ash Ra Tempel before leaving to begin a prolific solo career that continues to this day. Schulze’s own debut Irrlicht contains three installments of vast, soporific, even frightening sounds of the cosmos, undoubtedly influenced by (and also influential upon) his former bands.

By the time he recorded Irrlicht, Schulze had given up drumming for the role of keyboardist and cosmic conductor. This album is formulated using a mixture of Schulze’s organ, electronics and an orchestra. True to German kraut rock form, Schulze uses the capabilities of the recording studio extensively. The results are that the orchestra is so extensively processed and buried in the mix that it is difficult to tell when it is playing. In fact, the second and third tracks of Irrlicht are so amorphous and whispery that almost nothing in terms of specific instruments is identifiable. Rhythm, melody and any other sort of structure are only barely hinted at in these two tracks. Only gentle sustained chords that seem to emanate from the deepest, darkest reaches of space are to be found. The last piece, “Satz Exil Sils Maria,” is almost guaranteed to put the relaxed listener to sleep at some point within its 21-minute duration. This music is a good alternative to addictive sleeping pills on nights when insomnia rears its ugly head.

”Satz Ebene,” the first piece on the album, is another long one at 23 minutes. This piece, however, is less relaxing. In fact, it’s a bit scary. The orchestra’s in there somewhere, sounding more like a Mellotron, which many prog artists have used in order to synthesize an actual orchestra. (Ironic, isn’t it?) After a few minutes of swelling chords from the orchestra, Schulze’s organ takes over. He sounds like he’s performing some sort of extra-terrestrial, slow-motion rendition of Bach’s “Toccata and Fuge in D Minor.” When the editor played this piece once recently, his wife found it funny to provide an interpretive mime performance, complete with heavy-handed, stiff-armed air organ, her head and eyes mockingly rolled back in portentous prog ecstasy. Possibly it’s a little much for the average person, but experienced proggers should dig it after a couple of listens.

Schulze’s style changed by his third album to become more rhythmic and electronic, relying heavily on Moog sequencers and even drumming on occasion. That side of Schulze is quite rewarding, but Irrlicht’s uniqueness in his extensive back catalog makes it a jewel no fan of progressive space/electronic music should be without. — SH

Systems Theory
Demos 1999-2000
independent release
2000
Promotional CD from the artist

Ugh! A homemade demo CD! Surely another mediocre, watered-down neo-prog band trying to live the dream of climbing the ranks of the current prog scene until they one day reach the pinnacle of their career — playing in front of 217 people at an outdoor prog festival! Perhaps it’s a concept album based on a jester and his pet unicorn. Maybe their live show involves face paint!

Wrong!

Shame on the editor for letting this CD collect dust for so long before listening to it. Systems Theory’s music couldn’t be further from the atrocity described above. On this demo CD, the musicians of Systems Theory completely avoid the pitfalls and clichés so prominent among current fledgling prog bands. Rather than trying to rehash something that was recorded in the ‘70s, this band takes a more original approach to progressive rock. Okay, they do use a Mellotron extensively, but that’s about it. This is densely atmospheric, sometimes chaotic instrumental music which sounds like a mixture of recent King Crimson and very early Tangerine Dream. Think THRaKaTTaK meets Atem. Sheets of brittle Mellotron form the basis of much of this music while flute, Frippian guitar, fat, pseudo-analog synths and drum loops dart in and out of earshot. Many of the pieces feel at least partially improvised, which prompts a somewhat disorienting feel. One never really knows what’s coming next.

Unfortunately this CD suffers from pretty weak sound quality. The overall feel is small, flat and noisy. Things that should be louder, like the Mellotron, are often buried deep in the mix, while nothing really stands out. Bad sound is usually a hallmark of independent demo recordings, however, so this is to be expected. Here’s hoping the final cut sounds more professional. The only other major weak spot to this CD is the lack of a real drummer, but the sampled loops actually sound pretty decent, just not as spontaneous as would be preferable to most prog fans.

If you want to know what good cutting edge prog sounds like in the 21st century, keep your eyes open for Systems Theory's official album, which is due out imminently. — SH

Visit the Systems Theory website.