Okay, technically Christmas isn't over for a few more days but I'd like to return to something of normality here, though we still have to get through New Year's Eve tomorrow. Hope you all enjoyed your Christmas, and congratulations to those of you who were nominated for and who won awards in last night's first ever Journeys ceremony.
Sorry for the lack of updates over the last few days but as you could see from the Weekly Update Thread I was very busy compiling the Year in Review and organising the awards.
To tie in with the opening of my new thread, "Trollheart's Fortress of Prog", I'd like to kick the last two days of 2013 off with one of my favourite prog bands, and one of their best albums.
Contagion --- Arena --- 2003 (Verglas)
"Contagion" is an interesting album, not just because it's so good but because it comes more or less as part of a three-record set, the other two of which are EPs released around the same time as the main album. Some of the material on the companion volumes is just remixed from the tracks on the main album, but there are some tracks on each that don't appear on "Contagion". In particular, "Contagium" is important, as this has three tracks that the main album does not, and two of them are magnificent, while there's one remix also thrown on. The third volume, as it were, has
four new tracks and one remix, while the album itself is no slouch, with sixteen. Now, if you leave out the remixes but add up all the tracks on the three recordings you come out with a massive twenty-three songs. Not bad eh? It's a concept album of sorts, dealing I think with the end of the world though I've never been completely sure as it doesn't follow a set plot or storyline, but even on its own "Contagion" is an amazing slice of progressive rock.
I've never quite understood the, if not hatred at least apathy towards this band. Sure, they don't reinvent any wheels and they're not out there on the bleeding edge, but they're a whole lot better than some lesser prog rock bands I could mention. Let me put it this way: on hearing Arena I was lovestruck right away, whereas with the more established Spock's Beard I really had to work at the relationship, to the point now where we're certainly talking if not actually sleeping together --- well, the odd dirty weekend, but nothing serious, you understand. In the same way as I slipped gratefully into the embrace of Genesis and Marillion, Mostly Autumn and Shadow Gallery, I resisted the advances of Yes, IQ and Pallas, but Arena as I say, love at first sight.
This is the second album with new vocalist Rob Sowden, who would stay with them for two more years and sing on the incredible "Pepper's ghost", before leaving for other pastures and leaving the mike to a new guy. It sees Arena continue in the kind of vein that characterised previous albums such as "Immortal?" and "The visitor", and really begin to up their game. I mean, I liked those albums, a lot, and the ones before them too, but this is the point where Arena really began to spread their wings and show the world of progressive rock what they could do.
It opens with the sounds of voices sounding confused and mixed, an effect they would use later on the opening to "Bedlam Fayre" on the "Pepper's ghost" album, then John Mitchell blasts in with a hard and heavy guitar and the redoubtable Mick Pointer pounds away on the skins as "Witch hunt" gets going. Very shortly we hear Rob Sowden and his vocal is a little gruff and raspy, just perfectly fitting the song. Arena would never be described as progressive metal, but this song is one of their hardest and edges close to that subgenre. Great solo from the excellent and talented Mitchell, who's been with them five years at this stage, and still is. The song ends a little abruptly though and slides into the piano ballad "An angel falls", on which Sowden shows the versatility of his vocals, this time soft and gentle but with a hard edge of determination in his singing. Clive Nolan takes centre stage behind the piano for this short little song, before it's back to hard and heavy with the driving "Painted man", Nolan this time on synths and creating a dramatic backdrop for the song, complete with choral vocals and stirring organ.
Pointer does a great job on the drums here, matching Mitchell almost note for note while Nolan paints the atmosphere with low muted synthwork, Mitchell racking off another fine solo halfway through. Sowden is again urgent and dramatic as he sings
"Why? With poison so strong in our hearts/ And the world torn apart/ Why? When our actions bring nothing but pain/ Can't you see that we're painted the same?" and on a descending riff from Mitchell we're into the instrumental "This way madness lies", where he and Nolan combine with Ian Salmon on bass and Pointer on drums to form a fast and powerful little piece whose second section owes much to Genesis circa "Trick of the tail" before one of the standouts comes in the form of "Spectre at the feast".
Built on an almost glockenspiel-like keyboard, ticking like a clock as Sowden sings
"There's a spectre at the feast/ Feeding on my soul/ And drinking my hopes away" the song resembles Peter Gabriel's "San Jacinto" in the main melody, Nolan's piano and deep synth leading the song for much of its run. It's the longest track, just over five and a half minutes, which is admittedly not much for a prog rock song, btu then none of these songs are that long, leading to the amount of tracks on teh album. Mitchell's guitar almost slides in unnoticed, then Pointer hits the skins and the song begins to build to a new level as Sowden cries
"This brave new world/ Has fallen and decayed/ Are there no heroes/ Just men with feet of clay?" An almost U2-like rhythm possesses the song as it gets heavier, Mitchell's guitar taking a more leading role as it nears its end.
The theme of "An angel falls" then returns in "Never ending night", but whereas the former was a solo piano effort, and this begins in that same vein, it soon kicks into something totally different as Mitchell, Pointer and Jowitt explode into the song, turning it into something totally different to "An angel falls", and yet inextricably linked to that song. A real progression in the truest sense of the word, it's a joy to hear, and then in the second minute of the three-plus that it runs for it returns to the original theme before fading out. "Skin game" kicks everything back up to ten, with howling synth and screaming guitars and an anthemic chorus, a great vocal performance from Sowden and a vaguely eastern sense to the melody. Great acapella ending, and the rocking continues in "Salamander", as indeed does the eastern tinge, with an almost "Kashmir"-like tune, marching along like an army crossing the desert under the blazing sun. Some great keyboard work by Clive Nolan on this one.
The voices that jabbered across the opening of "Witch hunt" are back for the instrumental "On the box", a showcase for Nolan really, and it's no surprise that of the three instrumentals on the album (yes, there's one more to come) he wrote two and co-wrote the third with Mick Pointer. John Mitchell does throw his penn'orth in though, with another almost effortless solo, as the song runs directly into the dark, brooding "Tsunami", which though it has a sort of walking blues rhythm is a sharp bitter song chronicling the mastery of nature over man as Rob Sowden advises
"Ooh there's nowhere to hide now/ Ooh there's nowhere to run!" Nolan's ominous organ work adds a sense of panic to the song, and choral vocals complete the feel, while "Bitter harvest" seems to follow on from this, in a sad little piano ballad with a passionate vocal from Sowden. Mitchell's guitar soon cuts through though and the song becomes a harder, punchier one than it began, and perhaps a testament to one man's refusal to die as Sowden yells
"You can take away my crown/ But you'll never bring my spirit down/ I won't give in!" as he wanders through a world devastated by it would seem a natural catastrophe.
A soft, whistling keyboard accompanies Sowden as he sings almost Jim Kerr-like on "Belfast child" as "The city of lanterns" runs its short course of just over one minute, devoid of percussion and into the final instrumental, very Genesisesque with squealing, jumping, trumpeting keyboard. At almost four and a half minutes, "Riding the tide" is the longest of the instrumentals here, and it leads into another standout, the ballad "Mea culpa" (I am to blame/ it's my fault) as Sowden sits on a hill and contemplates what has happened to the world he knew, destroyed now by its own hubris. With the sound of an old vinyl record crackling, a solitary organ and Sowden's voice sounding like it's in mono it soon slips into proper stereo as Nolan on piano and keys comes in to accompany him. "Cutting the cards" then has a certain sense of Alan Parsons about it, and a Spanish or Mexican tinge to it also, with a rapid-fire vocal from Sowden as Mitchell this time backs him on what could be classical or Spanish guitar --- Spanish I think --- before percussion joins in and he switches to his electric as the song picks up speed and intensity, Nolan coming in too on the keys.
The closer is a song of hope, as "Ascension" speaks of rising from the ashes, though whether this is what actually happens or just a wish I don't know. It's a powerful and uplifting ending though, and certainly gives you a sense that things may work out in the long run. It's a slow song, though I wouldn't class it as a ballad, with its passion and defiance and the thread of determination that runs through it. Built on a truly massive choral vocal from Nolan on the synth and thunderous drums from Pointer, Mitchell's guitar is almost Steve Rotheryesque in parts, Sowden's vocal hopeful and optimistic, a man reaching for the prize he believes is his, or maybe a drowning man reaching for a reed in an effort to save himself as he asks
"Are your ready to part the veil/ And write a new beginning to this tale?"
Surely a question we might all ask each other, before it's too late?
TRACKLISTING
1. Witch hunt
2. An angel falls
3. Painted man
4. This way madness lies
5. Spectre at the feast
6. Never ending night
7. Skin game
8. Salamander
9. On the box
10. Tsunami
11. Bitter harvest
12. The city of lanterns
13. Riding the tide
14. Mea culpa
15. Cutting the cards
16. Ascension
Like Ten, Mostly Autumn and a lot of other bands, I owe my interest in, and then love of Arena to the dear departed and sadly missed Allofmp3.com, which was the first website I know of that offered albums at reasonable prices, and allowed me not only to expand my knowledge of bands I was unaware even existed, but helped me to build my digital collection at a fraction of the cost of buying CDs or bowing to Apple. I will always be grateful to them for allowing me sample, and then get into, such artistes. I really don't know of a bad Arena album, and even their most recent, 2011's "The seventh degree of separation", which I wasn't totally blown away with, is likely to be a grower anyway.
This album I loved from the start, and there are no, read no, bad tracks on it. The whole thing flows very well and if it's not a concept album --- I'm not sure on that point --- then it's as close to one as they've come since "The Visitor". The musicianship displayed on this album is nothing short of stunning and it's rather surprising to me that Arena are not better known and appreciated than they are, but then I'm getting used to that. In a somewhat crowded space it's becoming increasingly clear that two things mark out the successful bands: longevity and some sort of trademark, neither of which Arena really have, having been only --- only! --- together since the late nineties, which in prog rock terms makes them if not babes in arms, then certainly toddlers. Seems in the world of proggers you have to have been around since the eighties, or preferably the seventies, to be taken seriously.
But none of that bothers me. They may never be famous or popular enough to play here, and I'll never get a chance to travel to see them, but they have a new live album out and somewhere I have a DVD of them in performance, which I must root out now that I've relistened to this album. But if you haven't heard Arena yet and you're a fan of class progressive rock with a hard edge, take my advice: this is one contagion you need to contract.