NUMBER SEVEN

In all fairness , it was a daunting task to overcome the genius of "Doomsday Afternoon" and therefore the assorted comments by our veteran prog review crew of "7" are indicative of a certain post-orgasmic letdown (Stop giggling, will you!). Our Tarcisio is correct in stating that as background music (aka first unfocused casual spin) this is no winner at all, in fact, it doesn't even have those monstrous groove moments that define the previous opus ( "Formaldehyde", "Doctrine 1 & 2" etc?). There seems to be a more homogenous construction that eschews the soloing instrumental pulse in favor of a story line that needs to be steered effectively. I am no big fan of silly neo-political/social/religious imagery especially when it involves a crayfish and a dormouse but I can see where the artist places his energies and Phideaux certainly has the equipment and the history to express himself the way he sees fit. So then, what do we have? An album that some will see as an upgrade and others a "sidegrade". (the downgrade is not an option, the music is just to luxuriant). Every note is clinically formatted for maximum effect and thereby perhaps loses that one true essence that made Doomsday such a monument: breath, expanse and actual music. It comes across as a vocal-heavy prog-pop-space opera that has an oblique message and an even more opaque delivery. Those were my first impressions, my pen flowing to the sounds emanating from the plastic. The zebra-shirted, black-capped official sternly trots to midfield, stroking his hip-mike: "Upon further review, the play on the field stands, third down!". It is becoming abundantly clear to this reviewer than Mr. Phideaux is above all 1- a music fan 2- a prog collector 3- as a musician , he is a master-collator, a seasoned cataloguist, weaving various well-proven and effective prog strands into the dense fabric of his compositions. Original only in that the incorporations can include a registry as panoramic as his personal tastes that go from Joy Division, Bowie, Floyd, Moody Blues, Tull, Roxy Music, VdGG, Sparks, Le Orme, etc... Example is one of the highlight acmes on this disc, the lush RPI-tinged "Senti" that has all the passion of an Italian prog opera. In fact, it probably "out-Italians" the Italians! As for the music on "7", the band is super tight, more into teamwork ensemble playing than any flashy attitude in endless soloing, the drumming is propulsive and the various keys lay down some mean sonic carpet. This is "snippet central" with an endless flow of mini-pieces infusing longer tracks always between the 5-7 minute mark in length , that mosaic into one colossal work (I must admit I prefer the more homogenous tracks in general), fitting into each other with nary a pause in the interval . The 6 minute "Waiting for The Axe to Fall" is a highlight stretch-out, with sublime violin, great male and female singing and a ghostly mood that ushers back to past successful achievements. On "Hive Mind", the haunting "femme" choir work and rifling instrumental passages are a sheer delight and the piano-led arrangement is as tight as a Scottish accountant. Acoustic guitar and sultry sax only add to the gratification. "The Claws of the Crayfish" has loads of dramatics (Ariel's violin), some effective bass from ex- Discipline's Matt Kennedy, whistling synths and rousing organs and some dreamy "aaaahs' from the Xavier saviour! The gentle soporific lullaby lilt of "My Sleeping Slave" induces a sense of floating, followed by some mini-frescoes , the astonishing but too brief "Darkness at Noon"(conjuring up images of Shawn Phillips's Second Contribution) , "Prequiem" the lady-choir follow up to Xavier's previous wispy vocal , sliced through by a soaring lead guitar (er... Finally, it's about time!). The longer "Gift of the Flame" infuses some instrumental verve and élan (yeah, more fretwork!), some passionate semi-Celtic flavored lead vocals from his ladies that is quite inspiring, while the e-piano and sax embrace lustily. You want to laugh now, said the madman to the disbelievers? = "Interview" is a short electronic cascade that ushers in the childlike verse "do you have any cheese?" showing that Xavier can also handle sarcasm, irony and a bulbous sense of self-parody ("Thermonuclear Cheese", hahaha!), silly you! "The Search for Terrestrial Life" is just too goofy for my taste, a wandering space dirge that sounds somewhat corny at first and just meanders too comfortably numb, desperately yearning for some musical spark (the guitar break is way too timid), even though the multi-voiced chorus is most pleasant. "A Fistful of (Dollars, oops I mean) Fortitude" has a "Clint Eastwood, early 70s Sergio Leone/Ennio Morricone" feel that again shows composer Xavier Phideaux delicious sense of humor (as well as his astute poaching abilities). "Love Theme" is certainly the solid cornerstone of this album, a 7 minute foray into a sonic expanse that breathes, glows, and vibrates with a certain romantic melancholia, a grand piano delivering a heart rending message (that would make Wakeman blush with envy), a lead feminine voice wailing and hauntingly expressing the theme, a tortuous guitar frill paving the way for some more piano ramblings, a synthesizer solo and some seriously inspired playing that shows the unalterable contrasts with all the too perfect ensemble pieces before hand. This is Phideaux at his best: weird, odd, unpredictable (even tossing in a slight zeuhl feel) and brashly captivating. There is more music on this track than the previous 11 tracks combined and when the previously mentioned Italian "Storia Senti" section kicks in, the pinnacle core section of this album has been let out of the box, finally! A stellar slab of ornate and expressive music that Le Orme, PFM or Banco would proudly acknowledge, full of playful elasticity and inspiring musicianship (the" pa-pa-pa" female scat pipings), huge orchestral adornments and accent less Italian vocals from Signore "Fido". Bravo, ragazzo! Massive applause from the La Scala crowd. I am humbly impressed. "Infinite Supply" has a feel of finality, a post-orgasmic afterglow that doesn't really need to be overtly analyzed; just letting it flow is good enough for me. The story ends on another spacey effect, the Dormouse returning to his idyll hideaway and munching greedily on his aged cheddar, a vehicle for Phideaux' personal thoughts on the human condition (or is it dysfunction?).

This wide compass is precisely why the ratings have been so varied, in that the chamber jazz/ gothic prog/classic rock maelstrom (No, not the sparkling Russell and Ron!) can lend itself ideally to a bit of listening confusion. As a whole, 7 has not grabbed me by the jugular and seduced me from the get-go quite like "Doomsday Afternoon". At least, not yet! Perhaps it will require a few more strategic spins, a more observant ear and a mental eraser, so as not to compare with the previous masterstroke. That being said, Phideaux has made his name in prog circles and beyond, his obvious talent and brash confidence are extremely well founded and highly appreciated by any open-minded music lover. We are all lucky to have you amongst us! 4.5 leaping goatsuckers