GREAT WIDE NOTHING

Fourth album by the American band formed by Daniel Graham (b/g/vo), Dylan Porper (key/vo), and Jeff Matthews (drs/vo).

They created an interesting debut with "The View From Olympus," which has been described as a legitimate evolution of '90s neo-prog, combining band arrangements based on vintage organs and synthesizers influenced by '70s art/prog rock with clear vocals and melodies characteristic of Neal Morse-style American progressive hard rock, creating an impressive depth and scale that's hard to believe comes from a trio arrangement.

Following the two-disc conceptual masterpiece of their debut album, "Hymns For Hungry Spirits," which was a more modern and technical take on their debut style, this fourth album, their first label release, marks a turning point where they've shed the blockbuster-oriented tendencies of their previous albums and instead packed each song tightly while retaining their strengths, such as catchy melodies and brilliant keyboard work. As exemplified by tracks like the somewhat growling "Utopia" and "The Parting of Ways," which combines a pop sensibility and sense of speed that seems to have been influenced by punk and melodic hard rock with progressive rock, this album is recommended for fans of I Am the Manic Whale or Moon Safari. A modern and stylish work, a 2025 essential album.

The 4th album from this keyboard-centric Prog Trio from the U.S. I was a big fan of their last album (Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol.II, 2023), and this new album is even better. Delightful prog elements masterfully presented in an energetic hard-driving modern rock context, yet still maintains a strong melodic sensibility, with catchy melodies and hooks throughout. A concept album of sorts with a theme dealing with social commentary on our place in the world of today. Sensational keys/synth-work (Dylan Porter), from the backing aura to dazzling solos, always with just the right sounds and voices. Powerful bass and vocals from primary songwriter Daniel Graham, and dynamic drumming backing from Jeff Matthews. Impressive out of the gate with the hard-rocking openers Utopia and Rules of Engagement. The instrumental One Thousand Eyes displays the full-on Prog credentials of the band with a fantastic dizzying piece. The album concludes with the beautiful, powerful, and majestic title track, bringing together the theme of the album. A unique, powerful and excitingly enjoyable album that stands among the year's best. Best Tracks: One Thousand Eyes, Chain of Command, Brain on Fire, Rules of Engagement, A Shout Into the Void. Rating: 4.5

Ending an album with a song like "A Shout Into the Void"... BEAUTIFUL.

Although I like them, there was something about Great Wide Nothing's previous albums that didn't convince me (I like Volume II, "Hymns...", a little more). Maybe it was the production, or maybe I just lacked more consistency in the band's approach. I also didn't quite understand the prog-punk label they use to refer to themselves. On this brand-new album, everything makes sense. The band from Atlanta (USA) has found their sound. There's a rage behind Daniel Graham's voice (with that distinctive tone) that I understand could be reminiscent of the rebellious nature of punk. The songs here are also more concrete, although the musical level remains very high (an instrumental track like "One Thousand Eyes" clearly demonstrates this). There's a dark undertone throughout the entire album, but with moments of light and, most importantly, memorable melodies and choruses ("Utopia," the single "Rules of Engagement," "Brain on Fire," "Parting of Ways"? all of them!).

An album that solidifies Great Wide Nothing. The eight songs are excellent, with magnificent melodic hooks and great instrumental skill. And most importantly (and most difficult to find today in the prog scene): Good Songs.

The fourth album by the Atlanta-based trio consisting of Daniel Graham, Dylan Porper, and Jeff Matthew, "A Shout Into the Void" features several new features compared to their previous double release, "Hymns for Hungry Spirits," released between 2020 and 2023.

The progressive-symphonic influences remain, but the songs become more concrete and have a more concise sound, absorbing those influences in a much more personal way. They also achieve the best sound/production of their career. And most importantly, the melodies (magnificent!) are still here, and they are present in each and every track. That's the key to "A Shout Into the Void": It's memorable, and every song has some element (or several) that hooks you (on first and subsequent listens): the aggressive vocals and beautiful piano interlude of "Utopia," the glorious chorus of "Rules of Engagement," the anthemic melody of "Brain on Fire" (perhaps my favorite), the aggressiveness and dynamism of the instrumental "One Thousand Eyes" (7 minutes that fly by in a flash), the organ and darkness of "You're Not In," or the epic finale that gives the album its name (beautiful, to cry and believe).

And let's not get confused. The technical quality is spectacular, but everything is in the service of creating the best songs possible, without inane moments of instrumental masturbation (sorry for the term). And here, Great Wide Nothing achieves it. And they finally manage to sound absolutely personal in every way. A wonderful album.

Very interesting proggy rock from this talented Atlanta-based trio.

1. "Blind Eye to a Burning House" (6:55) dynamic and forceful, this song moves along as if this band has a mission on its mind. These musicians can play! Unfortunately, the music and singing are rather milk-toasty: presenting nothing new or exciting (other than their energetic performances). There's a lot here that reminds me of Jem Godfrey's more recent FROST* songs or John MItchell's ARENA. (12.75/15)

2. "The Portal and the Precipice" (3:40) more excellent musicianship presenting some pop-prog that sounds quite similar to Rush-like ART IN AMERICA (singer Daniel Graham's voice styling sounds identical to that of AIA's Chris Flynn). (8.75/10)

3. "Viper" (5:45) now here's something a little different--something that might stick with me longer than the listening of this album. Dynamic music that reminds me of both FROST* and Kevin Moore's CHROMA KEY project. (8.875/10)

4. "Inheritor" (5:23) opens like a song John Hughes would've used in one of his 1980s movie soundtracks. When Daniel Graham's voice enters it suddenly sounds totally like an ICEHOUSE song. It's very melodic and engaging--perhaps the most so of the album. A catchy CURE-like guitar solo in the third minute seals the vibe. A great 1980s pop song that will probably ring nostalgic, and, therefore, popular with a lot of folks due to all the retro-1980s stuff going on in our world right now. Unfortunately, there is no memorable lyrical hook to latch onto--just the guitar solos. (8.875/10)

5. "To Find the Light, Part Two" (19:58) after a three minute intro and another minute of extended development, the song finally finds a form and base for the vocal. The vocalist sings quite clearly and forcefully sounding very much like ICEHOUSE front man Iva Davies. The music is quite pleasant, sticking to nice melody lines, but it is constructed in a rather straightforward manner (using a single key signature, standard time signature, and 1980s ABC or LOVE AND ROCKETS sound palette). The music definitely gets heavier and more proggy if continually very simple and straightforward. The winning effect is its clear vision and consistent drive. (35.75/40)

Total Time 41:41

Drummer Jeff Matthews and keyboard player Dylan Porper have all the chops of greatness and the band is really tight, well synchronized; there just needs to be something new/different in the compositions to help them get outside the "prog-by-numbers" or "prog lite" formulae that I hear (or out of the 1980s). Still, the album has great musicianship and great engineering and production, so I hope the band will continue working, growing, and developing. I, for one, will be one of those following their evolution.

B/four stars; an excellent addition to any prog lover's music collection--especially if you are a lover of the sounds of some of those 1980s Glam Rockers.

GWN forced to listen to it after many solicitations! 1. Blind Eye to a Burning House for boggie heavy rock, quite used, RUSH in the background; there's sound from current bands that haven't stopped digging into yesterday's prog, the distinctive voice makes it impossible to think of FROST* or others; it's almost AOR, it's a fusion of yesterday and today 2. The Portal and the Precipice reminds me of the sound of JETHRO TULL for the voice, old-fashioned in fact and this influences my rendering; it starts with vocal ELP, I hear a few CARS notes in it, so very new-wave from the time, quite complex as it sounds; the organ and the bass are omnipresent 3. Viper with its long piano intro is slow to take off; it's good but it's not innovative enough; ah the vocal and it starts with a shrill sound of KING CRIMSON, hilarious and disconcerting, we don't know what to hang on to; the break is well in place and raises the question of the resemblance, if there was this solo in the last JETHRO TULL it would be divine, for those who follow. Otherwise a hint of RUSH too. 4. Inheritor for the last QUEEN-CARS-CURE yes you didn't know they had composed together? A title stamped es 80 with the fat synth behind; the confusing Robert-style solo; good the RIVERSIDE scratched well affectionately in the divine repertoire of this time which one criticized (not me huh!!) that GWN can do the same; the final solo is worth its weight, half post, half hovering; singular and innovative there. 5. To Find the Light, Part Two ..for effective slap of the year; a long but full title, long but enjoyable with an intro as it should be, ie prog-symphonic-enjoyed, a cheerful yes very pleasant chorus part, imposing solos in the middle with bass and imposing percussion pads as if to start, a break orchestral which never ends, which dares to make prog like the MMEBs did by proposing instrumental drifts, and a final which rises, which rises; the symphonic end which soothes and reminds that there is progression in there. In short, a major piece.

An album divided between 70s atmosphere, then 80s for titles that denote each other and a superb long title, enough to disconcert. For lovers of good music who want something other than the consensual. GWN forced... to admit that it's not bad at all.

Progressive rock must be the musical genre with the most twists and turns since the arrival of the F-35 stealth fighter in aviation! You really never quite know which way things may go, from one album to another, there may be a massive leap forward or backward, only the artist knows for sure. It keeps things certainly interesting. I latched onto US band Great Wide Nothing's sophomore album "Hymns for Hungry Spirits Vol.1 ", which somehow did not manage to seduce me at all, even after a couple of spins. I have no idea why. But after reading a few glowing accounts of the Vol 2 released in 2023, I risked all my marbles that maybe, perhaps and somehow, I will find a resolution , either sheer bliss or same-old same-old . "The envelope please" resonated loudly , after which I blurted out "It's amazing!". 42 minutes of energetic, highly melodic, and pulsating thrills are to be found here. Led by Daniel Graham (gts,b, vocals) and Dylan Proper (keys, gts, vocals) and Jeff Matthews on the human beat machine, this opus may just be a perennial favourite for many years to come as its that impressive. First audition caught my attention, the second had my admiration and finally the third one made me kneel in honour.

The romping opener "Blind Eye to a Burning House" shoves this release into the musical stratosphere with a blinding display of virtuosity from all the players, a vertiginous bass rumble allied to a thumping drum assault, adding sparkling piano flourishes and a lively lead vocal. The sound is somewhat akin to German 70s band Lake and the wicked tune "Key to the Rhyme", but in a more proggy design. That was then and "The time is now", indeed. The brief "The Portal and the Precipice" keeps the foot on the pedal, buoyed by a throbbing Hammond carpet ride, underpinned by a tectonic bass line, and slayed by a tortured, scouring, and lethal synth flurry. Relentless, pounding, and insistent, this is strong stuff. Bam? The bombastic "Viper" opts for a grandiose melody with a resolute piano base, like Supertramp on steroids, until the ingenious and shrouded Greg Lake vocals circa "21st Century Schizoid Man" or ELP's "Knife Edge" kicks you in the mouth, like a coiled snake with the venom at the ready. The piano then takes a more elegant slant to finish off the piece. A glorious trip back into the sunny 80s with the compelling "Inheritor", a clever tune that has a colossal New Order/The Cure guitar shuffle and a sultry vocal that will rekindle images of a heady pubescent youth of years gone by, where breezy tunes were actually quite solid and memorable. The final electric guitar barrage sound like recent Anathema, a really pleasant surprise.

And finally, we get to the masterpiece, the 20 minute mega epic "To Find the Light pt2 " , perhaps one of the finest extended pieces in recent memory, that deserves the price of admission on its own merits. Oddly, Part 1 on the previous album didn't hook me at all, maybe I need to revisit it. It begins innocuously enough with a vaporous Middle Eastern piano motif that gets invigorated by some bruising bass amid choir synths, an ultrasonic drum beat that just propels this monster forward and a slippery synth melody that scours the heavens. The potent mood is then constantly elevated to a higher plane where the slightly nasal vocals tells the tale, the unrelenting chorus sitting divine and confident. This is instantly addictive and pleasing, with enough variations to keep the juices flowing and the ear attentive. That flamboyant Anathema-like bombast guitar shuffle is remarkably effective in overwhelming the senses. Midway through, the atmosphere veers into the dramatic with some excellent stick work from Matthews, as the sensually reptilian bass curls around the volcanic synthesizer slivers with apparent ease. The vivacious piano takes over with a jazzy outlook that is spellbinding especially when we get to then hear a sudden but yanking organ flurry straight out of the classic Brian Auger/Booker T school of Hammond grooving. The sublime vocal returns, now into a delirious anthem that can evoke lighters burning at a concert , singing "we rest a while as we rejoin the human race". A serene outro puts these starving ghosts to bed. As the vampires say: "Bloody amazing!". Yup, 5 famished souls

The variable geometry corresponds to needs and desires depending on the circumstances? But what is the columnist telling us here? Let me explain, I really enjoyed GREAT WIDE NOTHING's first album in the spring of 2019 and not at all the second in November 2020....So what about the third, especially since it is presented as the second half of the album? previous opus? (Just look at the dust jacket). I had in 2019 said that GREAT WIDE NOTHING was a cross between RUSH and EMERSON LAKE and PALMER with strong heepian intonations in the guitar/keyboard duels.

The opening title here "Blind Eye To A Burning House" looks very much like a STATUS QUO boogie woogie, you dance, you tap your feet, more rock than progressive but as drinkable as possible, once in your head, it doesn't comes out more (8/10). The shortest title of the album "The Portal and the Precipice" is also the least pleasant in my opinion, despite the omnipresent and rounded organ of Dylan PORPER who triturates it to the extreme (6/10).

The very rock "Viper" which follows and it is an understatement to say it, is not too much to my taste either, too basic to stand out from the common musical mass, too bad (7/10), it is saved by a chorus and welcome piano notes in its second half, a piece that can nevertheless be listened to. The penultimate track "Inheritor" is much more exciting, more in the spirit of the first album, with Daniel GRAHAM's lively but silky vocals and a six-string gimmick that reminds me of THE CLASH in its first part and THE CURE in its second, easy to memorize like the inaugural title, I like it a lot (9/10), who said that the eighties had left us no legacy?

The best for last with part two of "To Find The Light" (part one being on the previous disc) a pearl worthy of "The View from Olympus" which appeared on the ATLANTA band's 2019 debut album , almost twenty minutes of intense happiness that we do not see pass, the first four minutes are instrumental, Daniel's vocals at their best, he does not force his timbre (which we can reproach him for in the titles 2 and 3 of this disc), the guitars are absolutely lyrical, the rhythmic ad hoc, thanks to Jeff MATTHEWS, and the following instrumental part which begins at 7:50 and extends until 15:25 ( almost eight minutes therefore) is a pure moment of musical bliss (10/10) which ends with a Dantesque finale magnified by the keyboards and choirs of Dylan PORPER, we will have to rethink this track if we have to designate the top pieces of the 'year.

With songs that explore various aspects of loss, heartbreak, isolation, hope, and redemption, Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. I was an impressive effort, albeit with a few reservations. The lyrics, musicianship, arrangements, and empathic sincerity of the project really shined, but the album's tonal homogeneity and boxy production limited its scope. That 'sameness' kept a very good record from being a damn good or even great one.

Suffice to say I'm thrilled to report that Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. II took all the best elements from Vol. I and accelerated them to exponential levels, while deepening the tonal bench with a more diverse stylistic palette. This album breathes with a rich sonic soundscape and commanding musical energy , ultimately resulting in an engaging prog rock release. Here the fears and uncertainties of the human condition erupt on a near-cosmic scale, whereas the connective tissue of hope and empathy soothe with melodic dignity.

'Blind Eye To A Burning House' kicks off the album, picking up where Vol I left off without dropping a wink. It's a barnstormer of an opener, uptempo to an almost fist-pumping degree. Even the singalong chorus lends the track a warm pop veneer. But this urgency is conveyed with iron-knuckled control instead of unrelenting frenzy, even with all the pounding double kick drums, thundering bass lines, and crisp staccato keys.

Whereas 'Blind Eye' questions how you can steer a loved one away from the path of self destruction, the followup track 'The Portal and The Precipice' relays the all too familiar edge-of-separation anxiety every doomed relationship engenders. Opening with modulated, AM transistor radio drums and transitioning into verses shining with Hammond keys and a verse structure reminiscent of 80s Rush, the band conjures up another winning rocker.

It behooves me to note that both opening songs, while similar in tone and emotional drive, flow well together without feeling repetitive or another trip back to the well. This is underscored by 'Viper', slowing the pace down with more of a thundering march than a rocking drive. 'Viper' controls the dialog between rage and understanding, where assertive anger is tempered by acceptance (if not forgiveness). This is exemplified by the early Crimson distortion on the verses and the dissipation into melody over the chorus. 'Viper' is a standout track.

'Inheritor' proudly wears its '80s synth-pop aesthetic in high and happy relief. We're talking nods to Alphaville, Depeche Mode, The Cure, OMD, to the point of full-on homage. Themes of recovery, finding the new normal, and discovering a healing path take center stage here.

Accordingly, one can make an easy connection to The Pandemic and the ensuing unease of social distancing and isolation, especially with imagery of empty streets, cities under sedation, and worlds driven to silence. But any direct associations like those would be reductive in light of the song's more universal themes. In any event, 'Inheritor' is a quality tune, although it's the most 'derivative' track on the album. I use 'derivative' in quotes because I don't necessarily think homages are innately negative. Here, however, the nods are blatant enough to merit discussion.

All of this of course delivers us to the album closer. Since the previous album opened with 'To Find The Light, Part One', the followup record ends with 'To Find The Light, Part Two', and this does not go unnoticed:

And so we circle right back to this question Uncertain now as we were at the start Where do we go to find our shelter? How to repair this broken heart? What do we make of all our failings To drive our flag into the Earth? How do we bear the weight of being The sum of every death and birth?

There's quite a bit of subject matter to unpack, as 'Part Two' endeavors to encapsulate every concept and question asked throughout both albums. And, at 20 minutes in length, we finally arrive at the big epic closer towards which those with stronger prog affinities easily gravitate.

'Part Two' opens with a pulsing dance beat driven by percussive drums and swirling atmospheric keys. Even a strong acoustic strum adds a compelling folk layer to the affair. This leads into the central motivic debate between icy determinism and hopeful fatalism, or perhaps mechanical dehumanization and melodic acceptance. The former is characterized by Wish You Were Here-era Floyd nods, countered quickly by deeply musical and engaging piano harmonies which provide the humanist response to the coldness of the digital void.

The song takes an odd yet entirely engaging detour into a mechanical, nigh robotic theme at midpoint. I really can't say enough about this central instrumental interlude that is a highlight of the album. Graham's unforgettable bass lines, Porper's emotive keyboard diversity, and Matthews powerfully connecting drum work all connect and converge in lushly layered and intricately delivered manner, yet all in service of the song. A magnificent closer.

We rest awhile and then we take our place We rest awhile and rejoin the human race

Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. II finds warmth, and acceptance in an icy, entropic universe. While one might argue that explicitly spelling out the message robs the listener of their agency and freedom of interpretation, I disagree with such assertions. Great Wide Nothing isn't lecturing here; they are lighting a watchtower signal, one of an infinite number, an endless array of tinder, kindling, and fuel overlooking the boundaries of the human experience, simply waiting to be lit. Illumination, not explanation.

What makes the album impressive is how much the musical delivery perfectly conveys the emotional content while remaining both intricate and harmonious. Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. II succeeds as a confident, assured, and sonically diverse collection of tracks that derives genuine hope and meaning in an increasingly unfeeling universe.

Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. I is the second album from Atlanta-based Great Wide Nothing, released in late 2020 as the first of a two album cycle (the follow-up, Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. II, dropped in January 2023). The self-described "progressive indie punk trio" presented both releases as thematic concept albums, a deep-dive into issues such as loss, heartbreak, devastation, isolation, and eventual peace and acceptance.

And why not? The world we shared from 2020-2022 delivered emotional content like the aforementioned directly to center stage. The band, consisting of lyricist Daniel Graham (bass, guitar, vocals), Dylan Porper (keyboards, supporting vocals), and Jeff Matthews (drums, percussion), avoided any easy or direct allegories to individual events or moments in time, instead focusing on general themes of longing, coping with loss, and flirting with despair.

As well as overcoming the darkness, lest you think this album is some kind of general bummer. Thankfully we can eschew any portents of general bummerania, as Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. I is a thoughtful examination of the human condition through a set of songs bristling with layered musicality and an evocative poetic command.

Graham's lyrics are especially heartfelt and effective (sometimes devastatingly so) at conveying emotional verisimilitude. The trio are talented musicians, and the thick production weaves textures that are ripe with progressive staples: symphonic walls of keyboards, punchy bass lines, driving percussive drums, atmospheric guitars, and so on.

And that sum totality works mostly to the album's benefit, but occasionally to its detriment as well.

The opening trio of songs establishes the overall tone: "To Find The Light, Part One" opens with a swirling cosmic void, building into a powerful symphonic prog movement that erupts into keyboards and drums in full attack. Graham's vocals eviscerate those who promise salvation and delivery and provide nothing. The song immerses us in medieval and mythological imagery, pointing a finger at the silver-tongued who capitalize on human frailty to "seize predatory vacancies in the marrow of your bones". It's a strong musical statement of driving immediacy, setting the thematic character for the record.

And as that tone ensnares and succeeds almost immediately, it continues unabated in both of the next songs. I bristle at any utilization of the line "I'm not a ______ but I play one on TV". It's almost too reminiscent of every hacky watercooler-comedian at the office; a line rooted in cliché from a 1989 headache commercial. "Superhero" gets a pass, albeit a hesitant one, for opening with that line. It is a caustic condemnation of how emotional con-artists exploit mass-media for their own benefit, all the while claiming to be the selfless source of our salvation. "Superhero" is a punchy tune, conceptually and musically solid, continuing the feel of the album opener and delivering it directly into the next one.

"Promised Land" opens with shimmering piano lines that erupt into a tasty bass and keyboard attack, coalescing into a catchy central riff. The song is urgent, almost overwhelming in its immediacy, underscored by the "red-alert"-esque keyboards running under the chorus. The song itself is something of an alt-perspective to "Superhero". The aforementioned protagonist knows he's a fraud; here he is someone desperately trying to deliver loved ones out of their broken world of madness and degradation, into that promised land of salvation where everything works, where life finally makes sense. Here he honestly buys every last bit of his own genuine sincerity.

It's a fascinating dip into duality, but the pace of the song, its uptempo warning and driving immediacy, feels a bit overwhelming here. Especially after the opening salvo of "To Find The Light" and "Superhero". "Promised Land" is an engaging but frenzied piece, one that perhaps needed a little more space to breathe. It raises a concern that the album feels overly homogeneous.

Thankfully this is not the case as we move right into "Hymn For A Hungry Spirit", a standout track that slows the pace down with an acoustic guitar intro amid lush synth orchestrations. Graham's vocals shine here in this tale of emotional reduction. Water is our basest form, where absolute apathy, indifference, insignificance, and self-loathing dwell at its lowest depths. The percussion fills between verses is highly evocative, an almost primitive rhythm that reinforces the primal qualities of human despair. And all the while reminding us that the search for self-discovery is the most central of life's endlessly branching journeys.

"Here I am, goddamn" indeed.

The softer pace continues with "Stars Apart", the longest and yet surprisingly the most conventional-sounding track on the album (at least at first). There's a familiarity to this song that you can't place; it feels like a late 80s alternative single that you think you should know. Which of course is impossible, but I think that works to the song's benefit. An ode to self-delusion in a relationship and the inevitable heartbreak that ensues, "Stars Apart" has some of Graham's most pinpoint lyrics, exemplifying the sensation of knowingly walking into a situation you know will never work:

We sold our insecurities And took a chance to dance on borrowed time Embracing the absurdity Convinced that we'd pull off the perfect crime

This is a winning tune that zigs about halfway through. A commanding guitar strum leads into an aggressive, almost oppressive keyboard solo from Porper. His skillfully adept synth eruption seems almost at odds with the wistful, melodic musical content of the more traditional verse-chorus structure from before. And yet it's not entirely incongruous either, bolding and underlining the song's melancholic subtext. The "misplaced miracle" in its most distilled form.

"Vigil" is another piano-driven ballad, one which would have been better served had it not been sequenced directly after "Stars Apart". Whereas the latter tune highlighted exaggeration, delusion, and loss ? buying into false idealizations as we forever lose what we thought we desired ? "Vigil" delivers us to the castle gate, hoping to get inside the walls to reach a self-isolated loved one, lost in their own pain and nightmare. We see the tower in which they've locked themselves, and that's all we see ever of them. "Vigil" is the album's shortest track and somewhat of a lesser one; after the epic number that came before, it feels a bit like an afterthought.

The album ends with "The Best We Can Do Is Laugh", a hopeful bit of pragmatism about finding comfort and shelter within chaos and uncertainty. The band perhaps feels more aligned here on this eight and a half minute track; amid the shimmering piano riffs, the commanding walking bassline, the precision and drive of Matthews's drumwork, and all the callbacks to 70s organs and 80s synths, this is a compelling musical presentation. The lyrics, however, falter in the chorus, perhaps too straightforward and obvious, but they are a minor stumble in what is otherwise an impressive album closer.

Great Wide Nothing's Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. I preaches a prog-rock gospel of empathy and nuance, framing multiple perspectives of human longing in a wall of alluring melodic intricacies. The album does at times slip into pockets of homogeneity that, while far from monotonous, threaten to derail its momentum. And while the album would have been further served by a wider stylistic delivery, Hymns for Hungry Spirits, Vol. I succeeds as an engaging listen via its strong lyrics and impressive musicianship.