Review:
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Italian prog stalwarts Moongarden are back with another
album, consistently producing new material at a regular
pace. Their past discography as revealed a few gems ('Songs
from the Lighthouse' was a real cracker) as well as few
average ones without any duds, as they have always sought
to move beyond the classic RPI mode and vie for a more contemporary
style that reflects the 21st century. Keyboardist/stick
maestro Cristiano Roversi has reassembled a new crew in
Mattia Scalfaro on drums (replacing the supremely talented
Maurizio di Tollo) as well as second guitarist Dimitri Sardini,
to complement the long-time crew of axeman Davide Cremoni,
bassist Mirko Tagliasacchi and singer/violinist Simone Baldini
Tosi. The concept here involves the contemplative evocations
from a peeping tom voyeur who enjoys observing, through
the use of modern technology, on how people live in a typical
modern chicken-coop high-rise apartment building. What makes
this such a fascinating listen is the stellar musicianship
displayed, as all are exemplary performers, albeit not the
most technical material ever, it nevertheless possesses
a unchallengeable seduction, the guitars brash and courageous,
the keyboard work definitely modern symphonic with occasional
electronic winks that define the times. The rhythmic foundation
is the most overtly hi-tech, both icy and insistent, at
times robotic in a good sense, as drummer Scalfaro blends
the past with some slick programming touches. Though broken
down into 11 tracks, the entire menu just flows into another
chapter somewhat seamlessly, providing an almost cinematographic
feel, segueing perfectly into a determined whole. Each piece
has a variety of innovative sounds and tones that keep things
on the boiling point.***
Run into the lobby and up the staircase, Vickey the
voyeur seeks out new visual pleasures within the tight confines
of communal existence, finding victims of analysis and formatting
those covert impressions into musical form. 'Voyeur part
1' sets the elevator route perfectly with some delicious
sounds, segueing into the ultra-urban cool electronica of
'Vickey Mouse', a swooshing piece that rekindles a smattering
of influences, from No-Man, the Underground to RPWL, with
Simone's urgent vocals leading the smooth crew forever forward.***
The glossy delivery continues on 'Barbiturates Gentleman',
owner of a lovely Genesis-like chorus and a great hoarse
vocal that enthusiastically becomes appealing, especially
when shouldered by some vocoder echoes. The violin enters
the fray in timely fashion amid the gargantuan mellotron
swirls, combining again the past with the future, followed
up a sublime and extended guitar solo, part Hackett and
part Holdsworth. Gorgeous stuff. The highpoint arrives with
heavier 'Mr. Moore', a crafty piece of pugnacious prog with
fashionable sounds, rhythmic pulse that spans the gamut
between slick and solid, winking at recent Porcupine Tree,
blending cannonading drums and chop-chop riffs that give
the meat some muscularity. Roversi adorns this artillery
with a fine synthesizer salvo that is all about restraint
and experimentation. The axe solo on the other head, is
twirling and sensitive to the nth degree.***
Next up,'The Usurper' combines classic prog with explorative
electronica to a new haunting level, using a multitude of
effects and sounds that add anguish, pain and disbelief
to the arrangement. Everything is alluring here, the anxious
vocals and the delirious guitar solo, all snugly framed
by the rhythm section. The shorter 'Shiny Eyes' is perhaps
the most immediate song here, though the subject matter
is not exactly happy, it is nevertheless pumped by a rather
powerful theme that keeps things simple, a bit like current
Pineapple Thief or earlier U2, jangling guitars notwithstanding.***
'TV Queen' is the polar opposite, as heavy dual guitars
carve a sinuous furrow, booming bass rumbles in the foreground
while Simone growls the innuendo-laden subject matter. The
dense mellotron torrents add confusion and camouflage to
the reality of it all, the drums pummeling with unfettered
desperation. The flow keeps growing as the band includes
a lovely instrumental section as a separate track but without
the slightest pause, a neat way the finish off a bruising
piece of work.***
To complete the deal, 'Message from the Last Floor'
has a rather ominous tone, echoing piano and mechanical
percussion in the forefront, Simone doing a fine job on
the microphone once again. Bassist Tagliasacchi lets his
fingers run over his fret board, but the guitars really
steal the show, tossing off some delicate licks with little
pretense. The mood here becomes slightly more bombastic
and grandiose, sweeping upward and spiraling in total control.
A terrific piece once again that will confound the skeptical
fans.***
The churning 'Voyeur Part 2' turns off the lights on
this seasoned affair, a delightful addition to any ongoing
Moongarden collection and most definitely an icon for those
fans looking for newer sounds, while still remaining firmly
in the progressive rock camp. This hard-working and consistently
likable band certainly deserves a little more adulation
from the progressive community.***
4.5 Peeping Toms***
(Thomas
Szirmay)
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