SILENCE

Sometimes waiting patiently can elicit some fine human tendencies as long as expectations are kept on a even keel, just like a blossoming love affair on a magical first date that longs for a reprise. This album I have waited for, unsure whether I would ever enjoy more of the same brilliant melodic guitar-led prog that permeated Odyssice's 2 previous offerings. Bastiaan Peeters is an accomplished fretman on par with the Gilmours, Hacketts and Latimers, yet he is unknown to most and many. The addition of premier bass player Bert Kosterman (previous dude was good though!) only liquefies more the sonic expanse with some glittering fretless playing, washing within massive mellotron washes, silky piano runs and clever synth forays. But the star of the show is definitely the 6 string monster, a colossal sense of grandeur and inherent search for maximum passion colors each of his instrumental caresses. The opener "21" is a scintillating anthem of utter beauty that defies description. Except on this baby, they like to mix it up with punchier material as on the sophomore "Memento", a spicy ramble that rocks, weaves, glitters and fizzes seductively, like some hot lady on a trendy dance floor, high-heels clicking with lust and suave hair tossing around manically. (Keep that thought, boys! hmmmmm) This is amazing stuff and we are only 2 tracks in! Gasp! Peeters' axe moans, groans and shrieks when prompted, cattily undressing the sensual images already rooted in our minds. Showing a more experimental side, they push the previously successful Oriental motifs on the "Impression" disc even further with a slow-building Sino effect on "Chinese Waters" which aptly convey a modern rock feel to very traditional music. This is reinforced with some clever percussion (Mr Boomsma is no slouch!) and some whimsical fretless bass noodling that makes this arrangement breathe , gathering lungs for another slithering guitar solo that would make many cry in sheer exasperation. Simple but devastating. "Colours of Silence" possesses a main melody that is beyond haunting, a trait of intense melancholia which Peeters and crew clearly understand and cavort in. Yet there is a definite positive tinge to all the drama as if heaven would be near. This essence is what attracted me to this group in the first place and they never disappoint. The maturity of their craft has concocted a moodier, yet more accomplished catalogue of sounds, unafraid of searing the grandiose and boldly facing the bluesy inner pain. The hope and courage theme overtakes the proceedings by offering up some passion and flinging Bastiaan's axe into stellar activities on the board. His various pedals add such a huge dimension, always done discreetly and well within the temperamental mandate. The acoustic guitar and piano dance a majestic waltz on the sad "Flags Without A Heart" , a reference to the former East Bloc countries banners that had a red star in their mid section, petulantly cut out by the oppressed with scant hesitation or argument. Gently somber at first, the piece flutters suddenly forward with a cool groove that gives all musicians a platform to roll with the punches. Very sexy, lovemaking prog this is. That undeniable smile of defiance is audible and delicious. Bastiaan unleashes his finest controlled solo, elegantly passionate and determined nevertheless, the perfect lover. Music lover, I mean! Carlos, Dave, Andy and the Steves would be applauding lustily, a solo for the ages. "Continental Motion" is the big 10 minute epic here and arguably their shiniest moment as a complete band, a clear indication of the commitment level of all to the romantic style, putting in a nice 'mise en place' before going to the ovens and cooking up a storm of savory sounds. This is where art and music coalesce, establishing a memorable adventure that cries out for an audience. A mid?section introduces wispy voices, atmospheric horizons and a grandiose choir, beckoning the saturated guitar back from the warm beach and onto dry land. The bass propulses and the urgent axe solo shrills like some raging crow , with a very obvious but utterly delightful Santana feel adding even more class to it all, the mellotron pushing for attention. This is prog heaven , kids, the synthesizer and the 6 stringer enveloped in a crushing caress, bodies perfectly intertwined in a loving embrace, reaching orgasmic proportions. Wow! Enough said, I have to clean myself off. LOL . "Swank" ends this jewel on a sprightly note, a stable deck from which to launch screaming jets of sounds, rapid fire slinging, missiles set to shoot and terrorist targets scurrying for cover. Insistent, devastating and merciless, Odyssice show they are no wimps and bold enough to dare forging ahead. I almost dread waiting so long for another salvo of scintillating instrumental prog, even this caliber would do nicely, thank you.

Easily in my top 20 all time and that says a lot. Dead perfect album from start to finish. I have heard an awful lot of music in 54 years but this is killer old school prog.

5 whispers