djchameleon

Yeah are you a new fan of soul? I didn't take you for one.

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Fame, fortune, power, titties. People say these are the most crucial things in life, but you can have a pocket full o' gold and it doesn't mean sh*t if you don't have someone to share that gold with. Seems simple. Yet it's an important lesson to learn. Even lone wolves run in packs sometimes.

Trollheart

Don't you read my closing statement? I said soul is never going to be for me, but I can appreciate it for what it is and am trying to branch out a little in what I post and review here. Anything wrong with that?

Your post may not be snarky, or intended to be, but that's how I read it. if I'm wrong then sorry, I've been up 16 hours now without sleep having spent 12 of those at the hospital so I'm tired and tetchy. However if I'm right, then please do me a favour and don't post snarky comments in my journal: it really isn't necessary or polite. If they are snarky. Which I may be reading wrong. I need sleep.

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Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018

djchameleon

Yeah you need to get off of your computer and get some rest. I definitely didn't mean that to come off as snarky. I piggybacked off of US' comment also. He mentioned the same thing but only my comment is snarky?

I hope your sister is doing better unless you were in the hospital for yourself which in that case you definitely should get some rest and log off your computer.

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Fame, fortune, power, titties. People say these are the most crucial things in life, but you can have a pocket full o' gold and it doesn't mean sh*t if you don't have someone to share that gold with. Seems simple. Yet it's an important lesson to learn. Even lone wolves run in packs sometimes.

Trollheart

OK my bad: didn't see US's comment --- it was on the previous page. Sorry about that. Very tired as I said.

Yes she's doing a lot better now thanks. Just such a pity we had to wait so long to get a simple procedure done, then another 5 hours to get an ambulance to take us home! Waiting, waiting and more waiting, that's the Irish health service for you!

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Unknown Soldier

I don't think anybody was making snarky comments here, I posted a comment after I scan read your entry, hell you don't expect me to read stuff word for word

Regards to your sister and unfortunately the UK health system is just as bad and 5 hour waits are not uncommon here either for so-called simple procedures.

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Metal Wars

Power Metal

Pounding Decibels- A Hard and Heavy History

Trollheart

Chasing locusts --- Strawfoot --- 2007 (Self-released)

The first time I heard this album I just loved it. It completely takes you by surprise, from the weird album cover to the even weirder music practiced by this seven-piece. “Gothic Country” they call it, and I’d have to agree. This is the kind of music Waits or Cave would compose while mucking out stables down on some ramshackle farm in the arsehole of nowhere, as the Devil plays fiddle outside while strange dark winged shapes fly overhead. Country music for the Apocalypse? You’d dang well better believe it, boy! We don’t like strangers round these here parts!

But who are Strawfoot? Well that’s a hard question to answer, as they all seem to come with made-up names or personas, each member of the band appending “Brother” to his name, while the leader and frontman, and also vocalist and composer, Marcus Elder, goes by The Reverend Marcus or The Dapper King Libertine. He’s reputedly related some way down the line to that old Southern firebrand Samuel Clemens, known to the world as Mark Twain.

This is their debut album, and it just leaves me wanting more. Starting with a cool banjo and nothing else, the vocal comes in in a sort of mono sound as “Wayfarin’ stranger” opens the album with a very western type feel, and you can hear how strong Elder’s voice is, that it needs nothing else to accompany it other than the banjo. It’s a short song, really more a taster which leads us into “Achilles heel” as the full band kicks in with banjo, accordion, fiddle and percussion. Some nice electric guitar gets in on the act too, and it’s a real rip-roaring fun fest that just has your feet a-tappin’ from the start. Great harmonica solo --- yeah, that’s what I said! --- by the brilliantly-named Brother Mississippi, while Brother Eric keeps the bass upright and tight, as we slow things down with the dark tale of “Cursed neck”, a real Cavesque ballad that just smoulders with bitterness and resentment.

Great guitar in this, Brother Steve just goes crazy, while Sister Jenn’s violin moans and wails through the song, then my old favourite, the mandolin, takes charge for the Waits-inspired-it-would-seem “Strawfoot waltz”, which bounces along nicely with an almost Diablo Swing Orchestra feel, Elder at the top of his game. The only song then not written by Elder is “My dog”, a real hoe-down frenzy penned by Brother Eric, the bass player. It just oozes fun and frivolity, and you can hear someone shouting in your head “take your partner by the hand…” Yeah, it’s just fun all the way and played at top speed. When I heard this first I thought Elder was singing “My doll”. Puts a whole new complexion on the song.

Great fiddle work there too, and as it’s his song Brother Eric makes sure his basswork is all over this. There’s some superb slide guitar to open the storming “The Lord’s wrath”, almost a blues country folk tune, just excellent. Heavy thumping percussion adds to it and some fine harmonica as well. Elder even throws in some yodelling! “Damnation way” is a mid-paced song driven mostly on violin and maybe jews harp, with a real driving beat and a sense of desperation in the lyric: ”You made me what I am/ You filled me with hate” then things kick right up into high gear for the hot-rockin’ “Cloth” with more squealing violin and some tough percussion, plus great clangy guitar from Brother Steve.

“Fiddle and jug” is a great troubador’s ballad --- not an actual ballad now --- and thumps along at a slow but deliberate pace with, not surprisingly, fiddle in the lead of the melody, which switches to acoustic guitar with mandolin, but violin adding its voice for the lovely ballad “The sky is falling”, probably one of the standouts on an album almost of standouts. Gorgeous little violin passage there near the end and a very impassioned vocal from the Dapper Libertine King. It’s almost “Classical gas” then to start “Effigy”, a low-key opening to a drinking song that quickly kicks up and becomes a reel or jig or something but man does it rock along!

As we began, so we close, as “Wayfarin’ stranger (reprise)” bookends the album with a much longer version of the song that opened it, harmonica and mandolin led. It’s really more a case of the opener being the intro and this the full song, and it’s great to hear it again before we bid au revoir to Strawfoot. I don’t say goodbye, because I know for certain I will be back here again, when my weary path crosses this dusty ghost town and I need to rest, kick back and raise some hell with these guys. I’ve made some friends for life, I feel.

TRACKLISTING

1. Wayfarin’ stranger
2. Achilles heel
3. Cursed neck
4. Strawfoot waltz
5. My dog
6. The Lord’s wrath
7. Damnation Way
8. Cloth
9. Fiddle and jug
10. The sky is falling
11. Effigy
12. Wayfarin’ stranger (reprise)

I must thank Goofle11 for putting me on to this band, as this is nowhere close to anything I would have thought to have checked out before. I knew gothic country existed, but not what it was like. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of this album, and I hope to be able to check out their other releases as soon as time permits. It’s nice to get into a new genre, especially when I wasn’t trying or expecting to. Sometimes these things just sneak up on you, ya know?

Hallelujah, brothers!

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Trollheart

Songs get written about all sorts of weird things. And normal things of course. Love, peace, rockin’, beer, being the best, dancing … some of the old favourites. But then you have really strange subjects for lyrics, subjects that make you wonder how someone ever came up with the idea, or thought it would work in a song? And sometimes, despite that, it does. Sometimes of course it doesn’t.

This section ain’t about how successful or otherwise a song is, but simply about how out-there the subject matter is. There’s no shortage of strange song titles and strange lyrics, but this one has always intrigued me. Even though I loved the song as a kid, and still do, it seems the most offbeat sort of thng to write about. Of course it isn’t: I’m sure there are far weirder songs out there. But it’s as good a place as any to start, and it’s the one that made me think of writing this section.


Love me love my dog --- Peter Shelley --- 1975 (Magnet)

This guy may have been a one, or two-hit wonder, but let’s just give him credit for what he did for music. Not the above song: that I’ll come to. But as a talent scout for Magnet Records in the seventies he not only discovered the basic elements of King Crimson, but signed Chris Rea and also created the whole persona of Alvin Stardust. The man worked, I tell you!

But to the abovementioned. It’s not really a choice you give any woman --- or man --- now is it? It’s not so much a case of “Me or the dog”, more “Me AND the dog or no me”. I’m not certain I’d see any woman being emotionally blackmailed like that and giving in. Some people just hate dogs (bastards) or are afraid of them. Many women don’t like them because they mess up their tidy home (fifties reference ahoy!) and then of course there’s the noise of the barking. Not to mention the vet bills, though we assume Shelley would have stumped up for those himself. He’s hardly likely to have said “Look honey I want to keep my dog. Oh, and I want you to help with the vet bills!” A little too much I would think for any woman.

The song is of course at its heart the tale of a man who can’t bear to part with his best friend. It’s made clear in the lyric that he laid this out when he and the unnamed girlfriend got together, but now she’s having second thoughts and he’s saying, look, me and Rover here come as a package. Dump one of us, you dump both. Seems at the end he may regret that, as she doesn’t back down and he leaves, doggie in tow. Ahhh!

You can look at it two ways I suppose. Firstly it’s a man who loves his pet so much that he can’t bear to be parted from him, and is prepared to lose the girl he (supposedly) loves if she can’t accept him. The other angle is that it’s a selfish guy who doesn’t care that his woman hates/fears dogs and does not intend to give him up despite her protestations and her ultimatum. Or is it his? His I think. The whole attitude prevalent in the song is “accept this or I’m outta here”. So it doesn’t really look like she’s telling him to go, though there could very well have been a sit-down in which she said “We need to talk about Rover. Or Bonzo. Or whatever he’s called.”

Happy ending? Maybe. Shelley does not back down and he leaves with his dog. Doggy wins, master remains with him. But he loses the girl in the process. So is it a satisfactory conclusion? Well you could I suppose always say the girl was being stubborn. As an animal lover and pet owner I know there is nobody --- nobody --- I would be prepared to give up my cats for, and if they didn’t understand then they could just hop on the bus Gus. Mind you, if they were actually allergic … well that would just be too bad. I can understand Shelley’s devotion to his dog here; I’d be the same about my cats.

But it is a weird thing to write about. What woman would accept such a situation? I love you but I love my dog more? Interestingly, Shelley’s other hit was “Gee baby”, which makes me wonder if the lyric contained the line “Gee baby, why don’t you like my dog?” It doesn’t but still it would be interesting, wouldn’t it?

Freedom is a dusty road heading to a highway:
Californian skyways will lead us where we wanna stay.
Suddenly a summer breeze breaks a misty mornin':
There's a new day dawning we'd better be on our way.

So love me love my dog;
We've lived the road too long to break up.
Love me live my life and travel through this land.
I can't leave a friend I promised that before we started;
So love me love my dog;
If you can't understand then we'll head up land.

When I leave this town today Lord you know I'll miss you.
Baby I won't kiss you. you'll only make me wanna stay.
Though it's hard to say goodbye can't you see it's over?
Guess I'm just a loner heading on his way.

I tell you now

So love me love my dog;
We've lived the road too long to break up.
Love me live my life and travel through this land.
I can't leave a friend I promised that before we started;
So love me love my dog;
If you can't understand then we'll head up land.

So love me love my dog;
If you can't understand
Then I guess we'll have to move on out up land.

C'mon boy!

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Trollheart

(As mentioned in my "Trollheart's Fortress of Prog" , er, ex-thread, the idea I had there to listen to and review every album in Progarchives' Top 100 prog albums of 2013 is still alive, but as I can't spare the time to run that in a separate thread, it's being moved here to my journal, where it probably should have been started originally...)

And so, without further ado or delay ....



Finally time to begin my trawl through ProgArchives’ Top 100 Prog Albums of 2013. As I mentioned, for some reason the list seems fluid, and changes from day to day, perhaps even hour to hour, I don’t know. But I can’t be doing with all that and so I’ve captured a “moment in time” and will be working off the list as it stood on that day. With that in mind, here’s number 100.

The man left in space --- Cosmograf --- 2013 (Self-released)

The first thing that surprised me about this was that the band were not German. Maybe it was the -graf in their name, but I just assumed they were from there. Turns out not only are they not German, they’re not even a they. Not really. Cosmograf is the brainchild and project of one Robin Armstrong, who hails from Portsmouth in the UK. Like his contemporaries, Willowglass and The Minstrel’s Ghost, both featured in my journals, he’s a multi-instrumentalist, composer and even producer. He does however haul in some stellar talent to help him out on this, his fourth album under the Cosmograf name, including half of Spock’s Beard and half of Big Big Train, as well as members of Also Eden and The Tangent, so he’s obviously well respected in prog circles: that’s virtually a who’s-who of current prog musicians.

The album is a concept and seems to be built loosely around the idea of a mission to space, possibly colonisation, certainly mentions saving Mankind, but which goes terribly awry, hence the album title. Themes such as (unsurprisingly) loneliness, isolation, despair, the future, sacrifice and loss are all explored through the nine tracks on this opus, and while space travel/getting lost or stuck in space is nothing new --- Bowie was doing that in 1969 with “Space oddity” --- in the end the concept of the album does not matter so much because it’s so beautifully played and constructed musically.

Starting off with a man asking “How did I get here?” against spacey sound effects, the opening track of the same name is a short one, atmospherically dark and grindy, and seems to be a record of a man who went into space to “help millions” in the year 2053, but the mission went badly wrong. Against an unanswered request from ground control for a “com check”, we head into “Aspire, achieve”, the longest track on the album at just over ten minutes, the astronaut in question, who seems to go by the name of Sam, relating his tale against generally acoustic style guitar in a fairly mid-to-uptempo beat. Suddenly some pretty heavy guitar and organ cuts in, taking the thing in a more boogie/metal direction, with some fine drumming from Nick D’Virgilio, who has of course played with both Spock’s Beard and Big Big Train. Nice cutback about halfway through to single strummed guitar notes and tiny handclap drumbeats. Some great progressive rock guitar and keys then take the song, and above all rides the clear, commanding voice of Robin Armstrong himself, who in addition to being a talented composer and excellent musician is also a fine and worthy singer.

Rather oddly, two instrumentals follow then on the heels of each other. The first, “The good Earth behind me”, runs under some poetry I feel I should know, but don’t, with Gilmouresque guitar work and lush keyboards, which in about the third minute kick into a real Tony Banks style as the thing really “progs-up”, the tempo quite slow as it heads towards its end with unmistakable undertones of seventies Genesis. “The vacuum that I fly through” then is more introspective, with almost John Williams style guitar driving it in a slow path that certainly gives you the impression of drifting through space, soft synth underlying the melody until D’Virgilio’s percussion stamps its identity on the track and it becomes a little heavier, though still slow with now definite touches of twenty-first century Marillion in there.

Although at first I thought it a bad idea to have two instrumentals one after the other, I kind of see the idea now. It’s an attempt, perhaps, at conveying the loneliness and the vastness of space, and the impression of being just carried along unable to do very much as you head out of the solar system comes through quite strongly: the sense of isolation and lack of control over one’s destiny, the idea of being a tiny speck against the overwhelming expanse of space is demonstrated very well through these two tracks.

“This naked endeavour”, then, is carried on soft rippling yet lonely and almost melancholic piano while behind it plays recordings of Nixon’s phone call to the Apollo 11 mission on the Moon, as well as Kennedy’s speech at his inauguration. Guitars and drums crash in strongly then as Armstrong comes back in with the vocal, and there’s a strong sense of Floyd circa “The Wall” here, with powerful keyboards and dark guitar. We then hear the voice of the AI aboard Sam’s ship as he seems to be slipping away, lost, if you’ll pardon the term, in space, as “We disconnect” begins. He reminisces about his wife left behind, about taking on the mission and what he hoped to achieve, though it’s not really made clear what that mission is. Armstrong does his best Roger Waters here, angry bitter and a little manic. Great guitar solo joins a fine one on the keys, and the only reason I’m not giving credit to individual players is that, apart from D’Virgilio, I don’t know who is playing what part. There are several guitarists guesting, and then Armstrong plays most of the instruments himself too, so it makes it hard to keep up with who’s doing what.

This is a dark piece as Armstrong sings “The light behind me getting smaller all the time; my memories of you are too.” He realises he’s probably going to die out here in space, and while not quite resigned to that fate, he knows there’s nothing he can do to prevent it. Some super guitar here and then we’re into what is probably my least favourite track on the album, “My beautiful treadmill”. Something about it just doesn’t do anything for me. Armstrong uses the old Waters device where his vocal is metallised, sort of as if it’s recorded in mono, and the music is heavy and powerful with some really striking melodies, almost heavy metal (progressive metal I guess you’d have to say) at times. Interesting vocal harmonies, and it’s a good track but definitely for me the weakest on the album. At times the fretwork here reminds me of the very best of John Mitchell with Arena, and there’s a lot of power and energy in the track, but I just can’t make myself like it.

The final two tracks are just shy of ten minutes each, and the title cut is the penultimate one, wherein some Knopfleresque electric guitar complements soft acoustic as Sam reflects on the decisions and circumstances that conspired to bring him to this place. He does however point out that his problems are bigger than those of most, as he remarks “Spare a thought for the man they left in space: he lost the human race.” I'm not quite certain if that's meant to mean he lost the company of all his fellow human beings, or if it's making the human race a metaphor for a race that is run, you know? Nevertheless, it still puts in all in perspective. He does however reflect that if you don’t take risks you miss the big opportunities in your life, and even though he’s out here floating in space, waiting to die, he doesn’t seem too despondent. At least he has tried, he has made the effort even if he failed. There aren’t any ballads on the album, but this is probably the closest Cosmograf come here to one.

There will be no happy ending though, no last-minute rescue, and this will not prove to be a dream, as closing track “When the air runs out” amply shows. With a sense of descending further into despair, panic and then acceptance, Sam begins to contemplate his imminent death and the failure of the mission as his craft falls towards the sun. A stark piano line very reminiscent of Steven Wilson’s work with No-Man and Memories of Machines takes us in, then the Floydian comparisons come back as Armstrong channels Waters on “Empty spaces” and also Bowie rather obviously on “Space oddity”. There’s a sort of guitar or keyboard motif running through this, a phrase that sounds like “WOOP!WOOP!WOOP!” and may be meant to signify a warning, an alert as the ship’s orbit begins to decay.

Powerful and desperate the song allows us to look into Sam’s last moments before death, as he asks “What should we do when the air runs out? When this ship spins out? When this life runs out?” More voiceovers of names of people who died before their time, or were brought low by addictions, then a superbly proggy keyboard runaway solo that would make Mark Kelly green with envy as the song powers towards its conclusion. In the fifth minute it slides into a slow, Russian-folk-style melody as Sam begins to accept death is inevitable. Again the old Floyd trick of using a phased vocal that’s put through some sort of mono effect is used, then a rolling piano melody brings in more of those names, spoken off a list and then melancholy guitar joins in as the AI says “Please respond, Sam.” A final crashing bass piano note ends the song, then there is a further minute and a half as a radio announcer talks about a book written by Doctor Sam Harrison, a “self-confessed overachiever, alcoholic and manic depressive”, and says they will be talking to the doctor, presumably before his flight into space and his subsequent death there, then the sound of a needle getting stuck in the groove of a record (yay for us oldies! We recognise that sound!) and the last words “Be a curse” repeat until the sound of a stylus scratching indicates the needle was lifted, and the album comes to a final conclusion.

TRACKLISTING

1. How did I get here?
2. Aspire, achieve
3. The good Earth behind me
4. The vacuum that I fly through
5. This naked encounter
6. We disconnect
7. Beautiful treadmill
8. The man left in space
9. When the air runs out

I know I said at the beginning that the concept was not too important, and yet it is this which links all the tracks together into one cohesive whole, so I’ve tried to understand it. It seems to me that this is about a man, selected as the only one from his race, to go into space and do … something, I don’t know what … to save humanity. It’s set forty years in the future, so it could be colonisation, except we’re talking about one man. It could be to stop an asteroid hitting the earth, but again, a crew of one? I really don’t know, but whatever he’s supposed to do something goes terribly wrong and he’s left hanging in space, waiting for his orbit to decay and his ship to plunge into the sun. So maybe it was something to do with the sun?

Anyway he failed and now he’s left waiting to die. As he does, he thinks about the decisions that led him to this place and whether or not he would have done anything differently had he known? It’s a very dark album, with a somewhat bitter message and yet although the title character is not saved at the end, we’re left with some sort of vague impression of hope. Maybe he did save Earth, but just was unable to return home? Perhaps he made the ultimate sacrifice, ensuring the continuation of his species in the process? Again, I don’t know, and the end bit spoken on the final track confuses me even more. Here’s what it says, in the style of a radio announcement:

(Sound of the pips telling us the hour has struck, as used to happen on radio) “It’s ten o’clock. Good afternoon. This is “For the Arts”. In his controversial book, “The man left in space”, Doctor Samuel Harrison examines the psychology of achievement. Harrison presents a compelling theory that overachievement is a “quick-fix” for wounded self-esteem, and that chronically overachieving people don’t realise that unrecognised needs are driving them from the healing conditions necessary for fulfilled lives. Does achievement beyond expectation in any field lead to obsession, dysfunction and, ultimately, an inability to perform? The reward for success, it seems, is sometimes to be destroyed by failure. In the first of two programmes, we will be talking to Dr. Harrison, a self-confessed overachiever, alcoholic and manic depressive and asking him if success can really be a curse?”

I think -- and I’m just guessing here now --- that this interview was made before Harrison went into space, rather obviously, unless the whole idea is a mere allegory and never actually happened, except perhaps in his mind. It shows Harrison as the type of man he was then. Perhaps after that he got the chance to sign up for the mission, was accepted and finally achieved the ultimate overachievement, saving the Earth, albeit at the cost of his own life? Or, or, OR.... perhaps the Dr. Sam Harrison is his son, writing about his father's heroic but failed mission?

I guess you could argue the meaning behind the lyrics forever, but as I said they’re not as important as the album taken as a whole. I find once again that every multi-instrumentalist I have encountered --- particularly in the field of progressive rock, where they seem to really thrive and towards which they appear to gravitate --- has impressed me almost beyond words. Steve Thorne. The Minstrel’s Ghost. Steven Wilson. Willowglass. And now I need to add Cosmograf to that shortlist. If this could only get to number 100 on the list then I am excited to see what made the higher echelons! Of course, I don’t know how that list is or was compiled: was it from album ratings, reviews, personal likes? Was it arbitrary? From sales? I guess it doesn’t matter, but the point is that if an album such as “The man left in space” can only scrape in at the bottom there must be some amazing stuff further on.

I don’t usually rate albums, but for this list I will, if only to see if my choices more or less tally with those of the folks at ProgArchives, or if we have wildly differing ideas as to what makes a really great prog album. As far as this album is concerned, I would already have it occupying a much higher place on the list, though to be fair I don't know what we'll encounter as we go further on up towards the summit. But rating-wise, I have to award it a very solid 8/10.

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Trollheart

Back when I was still going to school there was no Sky TV, no satellite and no cable. There was no internet. Few of us even had computers, and if we did they were non-networked, massive slabs of metal that would take two men to lift, ran at about 10 MHz (NOT Giga, Mega!) and had the princely amount of possibly --- if you were lucky --- 20 megs of RAM. Again, I say megs not gigs. So the television we had was basically about four channels or so, with the odd extra one here and there. The best of these was probably ITV, who brought various English networks under one umbrella, so that one show might be made by Anglia Television while another could be Tyne-Tees, or Thames.


But the channel (or station, as we had it back then) that usually caused the most controversy was one called HTV. It stood for Harlech TV, which was I think Welsh, but most of the time we dubbed it Horror TV. Not that the shows it presented were horror shows --- although they might have been, but back then we were too young to watch such things --- but even the children’s programmes it carried were generally of a more unsettling and darker nature. They famously broadcast “Robin of Sherwood”, probably the darkest retelling of the Robin Hood legend ever seen --- and soon to be featured in my companion journal, “The Couch Potato” --- as well as shows like … like … well, I can’t remember the names, it was a long time ago. But I know that nine times out of ten, when you saw the HTV logo come up, chances were it was going to be something dark and quite possibly scary.

"Children of the stones" --- HTV West Studios, 1977

But if there was one programme that epitomised what HTV was all about it was “Children of the stones”. Quite rightly still called “the scariest programme ever made for children”, it told the story of a father (Gareth Thomas, later to find cult sci-fi fame as hero and eponymous leader of Terry Nation’s similarly dark “Blake’s 7”) and his son, who come to a weird village which is built in the middle of an ancient stone circle. Right away something seems amiss and strange things begin to happen. I won’t give away the plot for anyone who wants to watch it (also see disclaimer at the end of this article) but suffice to say it was a layered, complex storyline that must have baffled most children --- certainly confused me at that time --- and helped it stand head and shoulders above the other kid’s fare being toted around the TV screens then.

But the thing that made it so scary, in my opinion, and still does, was the music. Not so much the incidental music --- that was disquieting enough --- but the juxtapositioning of eerie, discordant wailing and moaning that tied in with sudden closeup shots of the standing stones in the circle, so that, certainly to a kid of my tender years --- about fourteen/fifteen --- it looked like the stones were moaning and coming for you! Weeping angels? You wanna see this mate if you want real scares!

The show has gone down as the favourite of many adults, and quite a few will testify to being scared out of their wits by it. It regularly crops up in shows like “The 100 best children’s dramas”, “Scary shows from your childhood” and so on, and rather surprisingly in this age of digital rebirth and reimagining has never been repeated nor updated so far. Perhaps it would be considered too strange for today’s audiences? Seriously, if you took the best elements of a good Hardy Boys and spliced in a large helping of Quatermass, let some really old and scary Doctor Who leak in and topped it all off with the scariest moments from “Space: 1999” and “Armchair Thriller” combined, you’d still not have a show as unsettling and frightening as this.

And it showed during the early evening! Imagine how much more scary it would have been at night! If it’s possible to imagine this show more scary than it already was.

Disclaimer: I lied above. It’s not that I can’t remember, but I am literally still too terrified to watch the damn thing! I tried a while back, having found the above clip, but didn’t get past the HTV ident before the old fear kicked in and cold sweat stood out on my palms, and I had to hit stop. Wimp you say? Well then, you try looking at it!

Brrr! Still gives me shivers!

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Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018

Trollheart

Heathen machine --- Balance of Power --- 2003 (Massacre)


Over a career spanning nineteen years, though only ten of those active, and no less than four different vocalists over the course of five albums, Balance of Power take the phrase "fluid lineup" to new levels. Mind you, the thing is, whichever singer they've had has sounded great on the album he worked on. Tony Ritchie was powerful on their debut, Lance King impressed me on "Perfect balance", and here we have their latest, other than a compilation, on which Biomechanical's John K makes his one and only appearance before returning to his parent band. From the length of the hiatus between this album, the compilation "Heathenology", which was released in 2005, and any chance of any future project it would seem that Balance of Power are dead as a band: eight years is a lot to expect from any band. But they still appear to be active, still gigging as of 2007, though when you check their official website, that dreaded DNS error comes up.

So, are they dead? Perhaps they are. They were initially due to release a new album in 2006, but though they engaged yet another vocalist for this album, Corey Brown has yet to sing on any Balance of Power album, though he has played with them live. You'd have to say that as a going concern they are unlikely to come back now, though I guess there is always hope. But if this stands as their last collection of original material, is it the swansong the band deserve, and that the fans can remember them by?

There's a soft keyboard intro to "The rising", and the voice of new boy John K makes its mark right away, rippling piano and synth from Leon Lawson painting the backdrop to the opener before the title track kicks in, and it's clear that "The rising" is just a short intro really to the main event. Drums and powerful keyboards mesh with hard guitar as the whole thing picks up and gets decidedly metal. Pete Southern's guitars really add bite to the song while Lionel Hicks drives the thing along on the rails of his steamhammer drumming. I've always found it a little odd that the founder and original vocalist has dropped to mere (!) bass player now, but Tony Ritchie is still an important part of the songwriting process for Balance of Power, writing every track either in collaboration or solo, other than the opener, which oddly enough given that it has no percussion, is penned by Hicks. I guess a band must be quite comfortable in their collective skin to allow such a change take place and not seem to have any feelings of animosity about it.

The title track is a long affair, six and a half minutes, but not close to the longest on the album, and it certainly showcases John K's phenomenal vocal abilities, which help continue the great tradition of powerful, accomplished vocalists that have passed through this band. The title track ends almost with a reprise of the opener, and slips into "I wish you were here", another hard rocker that starts off with curiously new wave synth before Southern's guitars pound through, hammering at the song along with Hicks and it's a full minute before John K comes in on the vocal, with a more relaxed, gentler style than he has hitherto shown. This doesn't last of course, and as the guitars ramp up and synth fills fly left right and centre so too does John K's vocal rise and become more intense. It gets a little AOR at times, mostly in the keyboard runs, but not so much that the heaviness of the song is lost.

There's a low, sort of understated start to "Chemical imbalance", but don't let that fool you, as it quickly comes to life on the back of a powerful keyboard line and thundering percussion, and John K takes centre stage as everything drops away to just bass backing then the guitars and drums power back in, and the song has one of those great hooks that those who know this band will recognise. It's a powerful, rocking stomper and a good hard progressive metal track, the grinding guitars of Pete Southern cutting a swathe through the wall of keyboards provided by Leon Lawson, and he lets rip with a fine solo as the song reaches its climax, taking us into a gentle piano run that opens "No place like home" accompanied by strings-like synth. Some choral vocals carry the song into its first minute before once again Southern nods to Hicks and the two of them kick the track up the arse, ramping it up into another hard rock cruncher. Again it has a really cool little hook, something of a trademark of Balance of Power and makes you wonder why they're not better known. Perhaps it's that they're too heavy to be properly commercial, and too commercial, at times, to be considered a proper heavy metal band? Who knows, but there are some great tracks on this, as all their albums.

The tempo doesn't really slow down here at all, and though "The eyes of the world" again has its AOR moments it's another song any heavy metal fan would be proud to hear, and maybe, just maybe, make them wonder where this band has been all their life? Very dramatic, insistent keyboard backs this track but it's mostly driven on Southern's aggressive guitar work. But at some point we have to have a ballad, and though it's a power one it comes in the form of "Just before you leave", led by Lawson's smooth piano melodies and punchy guitar from Southern, with John K giving it all he's got and putting every ounce of passion and emotion into his voice that's possible. This is the one and only song he's involved in the writing of, collaborating with Ritchie and Southern, and it leads into the longest track on the album, the almost eight and a half minute "Wake up call", opening on a dark, doomy synth passage before exploding into a thundering rocker that tests John K's vocal prowess to the limit. Great galloping percussion from Hicks, and very impressive vocal harmonies which again sort of tread in a far heavier form of AOR territory. Very dramatic guitar from Southern which gets quite introspective about halfway through then fires back up full tilt taking him into a superb little solo while Leon Lawson's keyboards trumpet and blare all over the place.

The song though peters out and sort of dies away on a lonely guitar line and John K's pained vocal as we head into the closer, "Necessary evil", with a lilting, lively piano opening, Southern's barking guitars snarling their way all over the music before a few seconds has passed and after that it goes pell-mell, head-down for broke as Lawson's eastern-tinged keyboards add into the mix. There's a real marching, swaggering Dio feel about this track, with John K almost emulating the late legend himself at times. It's probably the most intense vocal from the singer on the album, and given that it will be his last contribution to Balance of Power he seems to give it his all. The lyric I find a little unimaginative and quite repetitive, but the level of musicianship on show pushes that to one side really, and it's as strong a closer as you're likely to get from this band. Best song to possibly end their catalogue? No, I could think of better, but it doesn't leave a bad taste in the mouth, just could have been better I feel.

TRACKLISTING

1. The rising
2. Heathen machine
3. I wish you were here
4. Chemical imbalance
5. No place like home
6. The eyes of the world
7. Just before you leave
8. Wake up call
9. Necessary evil

After singing on this album, John K returned to his band Biochemical, concerned that he was spreading himself too thin. In 2005 a compilation called "Heathenology" was released, a combination of a greatest hits and live material; a three-disc set, one of which was a DVD of the band live in 2004. You can't really fault them for their efforts in endeavouring to encapsulate their career to date, with this album containing remastered tracks from each of their previous four albums as well as the concert footage. But perhaps there was also a subtle message hidden in such a package: this is us, enjoy it cos we're done. This may not have been the intention of course, but to date no new material has been forthcoming, and the hoped-for sixth album "Whispers in the hurricane" has never seen the light of day. All members of Balance of Power are now doing their own thing.

It's a sad loss to the world of progressive metal if we hear no more from this talented bunch, but with the best will in the world and with even almost unshakable faith it's hard to see how there could be any new material on the horizon. Why this is so I have no idea; not too much is known about the band and as I said at the beginning, their own website is down, defunct or gone. Maybe these albums are all we have to remember them by. Still, at least we have that.

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Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018