THIS DARK EARTH

This Seattle Washington collective began their story with the 2019 "Until They Feel the Sun" album, an excellent debut that was followed up by the equally interesting "Thank you from the Future" in 2022. The veteran crew has remained solidly stable, composed of vocalist Michael Trew, guitarist Dave Webb, John Allday on keyboards, Mike Murphy and Kelly Mynes on bass and drum kit respectively. I am the proud owner of all three, though this will be the first review. It should not come as a surprise to any music fan, but Seattle certainly has a rather legendary musical heritage from Jimi Hendrix, via Heart to all the obvious grunge groups. There must be something in the air, or in Seattle's case in the rainwater. The psychedelic tendency probably stems from the turbulent weather that stretch of land is famous for. One of the main characteristics of Moon Letters is their insistence on originality, though obviously wearing storied influences on their sleeves. They also possess that wonderful prog ability to transition on a dime into sonic variations that defy the laws of gravity, infuse vocal harmonies at the most opportune moment (generally, smack in the middle of a storm) and sprinkle occasional doses of rawness, technical groove, snippet soloing , Zappa- esque controlled insanity as well as various implements around the kitchen sink. Prepare yourself for the unexpected yet very attractive!

This is expertly described on the eventually tumultuous "Energy of the Heart", an opening piece that navigates the various corridors of experimentation, emitting some lighter tangents and then, others more cavernous and harrowing. The quintet has no qualms of showing their mettle but just like with Uncle Frank, it's all about precise teamwork (like the Mariners, Seahawks, Kraken and Supersonics), no one hogging the spotlight, tight like a lid of marmalade. Trew can scream, Webb tortures his fretboard with splintering riffs, Allday doing his octopus thingy, and the rhythmic duo in a tandem turbocharged frenzy. Halfway through, the shift occurs towards a more Gong-like atmosphere, sweeping towards distant stars, waving to the long gone 'pot head pixies', in restrained admiration. On "Silver Dream", the shade becomes vastly different than on the previous piece, a somewhat pastoral sheen, with a more melodic concentration from Webb's slithering leads , the rolling bass fluttering along, wooing synths ululating and a flower-power vocal that reeks sunshine and beads. The pace gradually picks up steam and then gets catapulted momentarily into profound melancholia, a dejected piano accentuating the sorrow, before returning into the previous maelstrom. Through in a clamoring trumpet blast from Allday and Murphy's shepherding bass furrow, the guitar rasping furiously and tingling when exhausted, choir strings adding a touch of symphonics.

'Full speed ahead' bellowed the captain on "Island of Magic Mirrors", a castaway hymn for the Wilsons of this world, with an endless series of sharp reflections, at times blurred by haste, bullied by ramshackle gusto and then comforted by synthesized panacea. The track raises the urgency to unprecedented levels.

After a brief and much-needed rest period on the delicate and brief "Lonely Moon", the band decides to dive bomb screeching into the deepest abyss of angst and insanity, displaying a technical prowess that will require finding one's jaw on the carpeted floor. "In the Catacombs" is nothing short of a blitzkrieg onslaught on the senses, a raging, fulminating bulldozer that shows no mercy and offers no penitence for its actions.

Capping off this entertaining album, the marathon arrives in the form of a 17 minute+ extravaganza that, like most quality epics, integrates all the intrinsic characteristics that make up the mind set of this collective. "Dawn of the Winterbird" is a tectonic plate shift that will test anyone's balance, so it is recommended to sit comfortably and hopefully numb, and embrace the sounds, like one would visiting the gorgeous state's coastline. To say that the arrangement seeks to take one on a mesmerizing voyage is quite the understatement, as the variations are expertly fused together, introducing from the get-go a drop-dead gorgeous melody, with Trew and the backing vocal bench hitting all the pleasure nodes. Webb adds an intricately woven sizzle just to illuminate the sunrise appearing on the horizon. The unexpected somber retreat into a sorrowful stupor is heartbreaking and majestic, skillfully rebooting the celestial melody espoused previously, 'I would never try to hurt you?' and its warm continuance, the fluid electric guitar embracing the transcendence and in complete harmony with the divine vocal expression. Elegance in the shape of a brief piano etude that serves to ultimately enhance the power and the culminating effect of all the passion displayed! This is a masterful composition that deserves a podium finish on the altar of 2025 prog epics and alone is worth the expense to hunt down and treasure this release.

To paraphrase my great grandmother's idol Barry Manilow: 'Looks like you made it'! LOL . A wonderfully conceived and performed musical adventure, certainly worthy of immediate consideration among the other lunar modules in 2025 orbit, around this dark Earth.

4.5 Tired planets