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Review:
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German band Sylvan has finally stamped its name on the
prog scene, having defined a particular sound that is instantaneously
recognizable, in a style that finds comfort in an emotional
urgency that is perhaps closer to mid-period Marillion,
though lead vocalist Marco Gluhmann has a resonance and
mostly a delivery that is even more unique than that of
Steve Hoggarth or Queensryche's Geoff Tate. Marco wails
with incredible sustain and energy, hitting all the high
notes in typical German precision, though I am quite sure
he has a few detractors. Sylvan also is the possessor of
a classic album in the person of 2006's 'Posthumous Behavior'
which has installed itself into the pantheon of prog jewels.
Since that colossal release, the band has replaced its guitarist
on two occasions which seems not to have affected the otherwise
stable line-up. The amazing double album 'Sceneries' went
somewhat unnoticed which is a sad state of affairs as it
was another masterpiece in my eyes. The refined style on
'Home' is perhaps a lot mellower than Posthumous, perhaps
encouraged by that controversial 'Presets' recording which
I still consider to represent their ultimate opus (raked
in the mud by some because it followed the big opus). With
newcomer Jonathan Beck wielding his marvelous guitar in
a way that doesn't challenge predecessors Jan Petersen and
Kay Sohl, building endless axe fortifications that give
the already emotionally charged music even more depth and
volume. They have opted for a heady mix of these assets,
sweeping melodies and tight delivery, as well owners of
a seasoned and professional rhythm duo, both Mathias Harder
and Sebastian Harnack provide great musculature to the arrangements.
The spotlight does remain on the exquisite Marco Gluhmann,
surely one of prog's rare quality microphone wielders. Keyboardist
Volker Sohl is more of an orchestral sound sculptor, relying
on walls of synthesized squalls and massive doses of elegant
piano, as best exemplified by the self-titled finale.***
The album starts off with some sweeping strings, almost
outright classical in scope and feel, which perhaps leave
a sour note in the mouths of the heavier prog aficionados
who are pining for another heavy release, even though it's
quite evident that the group has moved on. I prefer this
more cinematic approach anyway, even if it seems to conjure
images of 'plasticene porters and marmalade skies' and a
more psychedelic style. Some have claimed an affiliation
with Coldplay which I do not see, hear or get (lots of piano
now means an infatuation with Coldplay? Really? I would
have opted for Mozart, Liszt or Chopin, or even Juergen
Fritz, but whatever). In fact, the devout lads have never
deviated from the path taken on 'Presets' and that seems
to still chagrin a few out there. It's all good, the artists
are in charge of their own destiny and not the fans, come
hell or high water.***
Sure, mini-epics like the serene 'Shaped out of Clouds',
with its uber-melancholia will grate on the metal maulers
but its undeniably passionate music. Ja, grandiose, magniloquent,
affected music, loaded up with 'sturm und drang' that is
closer to the romantics than to the head bangers altar of
worship. The ending has this odd mix of James Bond-You only
Live Twice and sweeping Mike Oldfield orchestration that
I happen to really enjoy. The epic 10 minute 'In Between'
is straight out of the Presets catalog, closely using modernisms
found on a tune like the whopping 'When the Leaves Fall
Down', combining monotone verse and tiki-taki drum fills
that are perhaps closer to urban rap but sandwiched between
harder edges than veer closely to heavy metal, showing Marco's
incredible lungs and concentration at Mach One speed. The
Ronald Reagan 'Open this gate' sample is followed by some
crazed rifferama which clearly goes against all the marshmallow
criticism levied by the inattentive. Neither plodding nor
facile, this track rocks! Ja, it has its softer moments,
including some brilliant bass underpinnings, slick guitar
curls and delicate piano rivulets but the angst is skin
deep and ardently charged. Beck shuttles along, spitting
out hot little solos that spit fire, swirling synth acrobatics
in tow, escorting that devilish piano. My fascination for
the grand piano has matured to the nth degree, as I really
'feel' the passion exuded by the ornate ivories.***
Clearly influenced by Hoggarth-led Marillion, a series
of sweet and fragile songs like 'With the Eyes of a Child',
'Black & White', 'The Sound of Her World' and 'Sleep Tight'
will again repulse the hard core fans of edgier prog and
I cannot blame them, as it's not exactly steamroller material.
All packaged together as if some kind of mini-suite, the
music is lush, luxuriant and dense, the orchestrations are
undeniably huge, but I like them immensely. This is resonating
music, irrefutably feminine and will enchant the fairer
sexed fans (of which we need desperately more of). The scorching
'Black and White' ballad in particular is gut wrenching,
explosive and I daresay, armed with a rather orgasmic guitar
rant. The following track has some choir crescendos and
a swift pastoral turn that is effortlessly bold and charming,
featuring Marco's divine wail. My new lady friend looked
at me with melancholy eyes that almost made me blush, I
was almost at a loss to admit such overt sentimentality,
instantly erased by a celestial osculation (kiss, for you
simpletons) that made me tremble with inner delight. 'The
Sound of Her World' will please her and then she will please
you. The cavernous and volatile 'Sleep Tight' seeks to ratchet
up the tension to boiling point and get the body tremors
going, Beck's guitar raunchily pushing forward like some
panzer spearhead smashing through paltry defenses. The ending
is pure 'mashed potato schmaltz' as early Bryan Ferry would
state for the record.***
Things get highly romantic with a two-pronged assault
on febrile feelings with first the brief and volcanic 'Off
her Hands' showing a crushing tendency to delicacy, a near
lullaby, something a gentler IQ could come up with to woo
the softer hearts, a delightful little rant that sets the
table for a breathtaking segue. A colossal song like the
melodramatic 'Shine' is quite illustrative of this collision
of emotionally charged bellowing with cracking rock foundations
and it finds itself cherried by an awesome axe solo to instill
a coup de grace of whopping proportions. An easy progressive
rock mega-hit, on par with the immense 'Chains' or even
early urgent U2 when Bono was actually and credibly stunning
, this is a thoroughly enjoyable high point to a rich and
exalting album of really, really good songs.***
This burgeoning heavier side is followed up by two
harder-tinged rants that sort of bleed into each other,
the quixotic and mercilessly tough 'Point of No Return'
is first in line, a nasty undercurrent straight from the
very onset leads to a binary guitar thrash, pummeled by
some bulldozer drumming and howling vocals, all ensconced
in a glorious melody and a thrilling variety of cinematographic
sceneries that add power and punch, recalling the great
epic moments of their huge classic album. 'All These Years'
shows quirky tendencies, profound insanity and aggressive
despondency, as the shrieking chainsaw guitar screeches
in the foreground, Marco wailing like some bunkered madman,
delirious and suicidal. The massed orchestrations are almost
Wagnerian in intensity, as the singer now showcasing a high
pitched lament, violin sweetness/bitterness crawling alongside,
forlorn piano stating a sad 'auf wiedersehen'.***
The title track serves to encompass all the previous
emotions, closing the parenthesis that began with the first
two tracks, infusing a return of the entrancing 'Shine'
chorus and that 'You Only Live Twice' 'like melody that
enhances the entire audition to unreachable heights of enjoyment.***
Sensual, sexy and sensory are traits not necessarily
associated with Teutonic efficiency but let me tell you,
this is HOT music, almost carnal and utterly exhausting.
I may choose to agree that nearly 80 minutes is perhaps
too long but what woman would not want an hour and 20 minutes
of good, dedicated and unselfish love making? Hmm, you may
have a point, Don Juan Romeo Casanova! If you want to enjoy
the manly, macho and angry Sylvan, 'Posthumous Silence'
is always going to be there for you to relish and 'boys
will be boys will be boy-oy-oys'. But when the lovely ladies
enter the playground to see what all the fuss is about,
all stitched up and hungry for love, this will get their
passionate juices flowing (figure of speech of course!).***
5 Love nests***
(Thomas
Szirmay)
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