BOX MAN

There are those rare moments when words are hard to come by for someone who feels so much at ease in expressing emotions, thoughts and impressions . Over the course of a quarter of a century writing reviews, I have on occasion published posthumous reviews of bands that have broken up or retired , a reverential look back at a past accomplishment worthy of praise or at the very least, analysis of what made them special. It's altogether a different kettle of fish when a band's final release is announced well ahead of time and the dread of your review becoming an obituary column is unbearably difficult. The only way to soothe that sadness is to contemplate the final opus as a legacy move by an artist well-deserving of putting a punctuation mark to a storied career. "Above All Else" in 2018 was the first instalment of Nova Cascade's prog path, where I instantly fell in love at first hearing that amazing voice and the lush musicianship that elevated it to such grandiose heights. Then came 2019's "A Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows" (now that is a prog title!) , a masterful sophomore release. Raising the bar even further on "Back from the Brink" that came out in 2021, it sealed my loyalty in crimson wax. When the stunning "the Navigator" emerged from the post-Covid fiasco, the key word became outright veneration. Leader Dave Hilborne has a voice of crushing poignancy that cannot leave anyone indifferent, his keyboard skills are equally magnificent, yet the spirit behind the man remains his greatest heritage! His final work is fully dedicated to former universally beloved bandmate Eric Bouillette, who sadly passed way in the summer of 2023, and the personal proceeds from "Boxman' are entirely passed on to the Pancreatic Cancer UK. That is what I call legacy! With long-time companions bassist Dave Fick, Colin Powell shining on both keyboards and guitars ( A Multitude of Two) , and finally newcomer Niko Chikviladze on the violin. Dave takes the Nova Cascade navigation to a mythical Norse ritual sending off! "Boxman" becomes a musical longship (Drakkar) laden with grave goods and tributes and sent adrift where seven blazing arrows are aimed at the huge sails and the pyre illuminates the stars.

Spanning a colossal 28 minutes+ instrumental , "The Choice" is the spark that will engulf the listener into a spectral voyage of profound emotional release, ambient keyboard colorations orchestrate a canvas of vivid sonic imaginary, pierced by the magical serenity of the violin , pools of piano providing occasional stability but the ethereal qualities exhibited are soothing comfort that sets the mood from the outset. When Fick settles into the appropriate deferential pace, time seems to vanish from the focus, unneeded and unwanted, as the anesthesia takes gently effect. The evolution of the piece swerves into symphonic bliss, Niko exuding a strong classical presence, as the transition arrives to a universe of absolute gorgeous melodies. With a shift in the drumbeat, the tingling transition to an elevated electronic atmosphere gives Colin Powell the opportunity to make his electric guitar glitter like molten strands of gold, helped along by choir mellotrons in the distance. The rhythmic pulse deliberately expands in vigor, as if wispy clouds ahead announce a change of weather, rivulets of restrained piano announcing the upcoming gale and ultimately unleashing a furtive guitar barrage. Bubbling synthesizers keeps the arrangement on unending periphery, always proposing a slight hint of expectation, various voice effects entering the fray, and the tempestuous guitar raging, thoroughly engaged, as the epic reaches a level of paroxysm that does not overstay its welcome, always offering new choices. This roller-coaster ride mimics the bouncy waves, a river of constant change. The final section is loveliness incarnate, a melody so exquisite, words are difficult to come by. The heavily stringed and choired outro is grandiose and wholehearted. If this is not the epic of the year, I surrender.

When Dave reaches for the microphone on "Smoking Gun", that incredibly hushed and frail voice hits your soul, causing profound tinges of legendary Strawbs frontman Dave Cousins, a voice anchored in romantic expression of the highest order, and though perceived as sensitive, it exudes immense authority. Tick-tock drumming, a looping and elastic bass and an echoing piano unite in a conspiracy to never surrender (like I did on "the Choice") on "If You Don't Succeed", a brooding patchwork of endless beginnings, searching for the proper outcome, resolute in their craft and succeeding one final time. Footsteps that lead to another realm.

The scourge of inhumanity is to be found on "Sentry", as any discourse on the futility of war finds a scholarly home in my realm, as an eternal student of conflict and the reasons behind it, proprietor of a colossal library right next to my enormous prog collection. As a hopeless romantic fool, I find nothing glorious in bloodshed, a wasteful exercise that became evident in visiting various military cemeteries as well as interviewing a long list of veterans over the decades. A song of mourning that affected me greatly.

The instrumental anguish on "As It Was & Is" serves as a perfect post-scriptum to the above carnage, the sorrowful violin from Chikviladze and the desolate piano expressing wordless agony. Another drop dead (excuse the bad pun) melody that gets just retribution with a whiplash guitar salvo from Colin, and some synthesized confusion from Dave, the orchestral backdrop raising the curtain on the proceedings.

The title track is where reverence seeks to impose its dominion and what better instrument that the mighty pipe organ, a personal favorite ever since "the Six Wives of Henry VII" was purchased so long ago. This is where that old tradition of looking at the LP artwork helps in defining the music within becomes apparent. The inspirational artwork is not only visually beautiful but also very a propos, as it contains all the clever hints needed to comprehend the story (oh so, 70s prog!) of how each life is a colliding enigma of potential opposites , depending on which cards are dealt, as well as which one you choose to play. The extremes go from a wooden box to a spectral palace beyond the suspended bridge on the horizon. The human condition is an endless maze of comfort and agony.

The French (RIP Eric) say "terminer en beauté" (finish in style but the Gauls are so much more expressive) and how appropriate to finalize the album and a career with "The End of the Line", a stirring and positive exit ramp instrumental that shines ever so brightly, a brisk percussive pace, glitter riffs, swooning bass support and an applauding piano, with Colin polishing off a masterful 'merci beaucoup'.

Nothing to look forward to more in the future than to regularly revisit all the Nova Cascade albums, as these works offer not only aural satisfaction but a much-needed artistic form of panacea for a constantly troubled world. 5 Deck of cards

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