LONELINESS

I guess retro-prog's growth has now grown well outside Scandinavia's frontiers (it had spread to the US with Discipline, Maxwell's Demon and Deadwood Forest) and it is now building a nest (chalet?) in the Swiss Jura Mountains with Dawn's debut album. Lead by singing guitarist Decoumois and keyboardist Gerber (the songwriters), the group has an unspecified (that's a change for a retro-prog group) array of vintage instruments to sound like the golden decade, but it doesn't restrict itself to the typical 70's symphonic style as it delves into dissonant improvs once in a while.

Opening on the eponymous track, a synth ostinato hovers over and around a pulsing bass, before Ducoumois' opening verse trigger the mellotron and the melancholic floodgates are widely opened. The almost 8-mins Rain On The Moon is slightly more neo-sounding than its retro-sounding predecessor, but it is nothing scandalous (a little pique to my neo-loving collabs, here) and you should survive it no problems. The 11-mins+ Brook is a melancholic (and bucolic) develops a Crimson-ian atmosphere even if the filtered spoken vocals is a little cheesy, the track meandering wildly between heard-elsewhere moments and original passages. The title track is definitely a melancholic track that fits quite well in the album's mould, with again so Crimson-oid influences, worn a little too loud on their sleeves.

Obviously you're all waiting for the album's foundation stone, the 18-mins Story Of Nobody, a slow-starting monster track with a slightly dissonant piano and tom-drum rolls that could easily be from Floyd, but past that intriguing intro, the track jumps straight into a retro/neo- like verse and chorus, softened by trons of melo, where the organ fills up the space left by an absent guitar. The track then veers spacey/cosmic with a (finally-present) wailing guitar soaring over the near-whispering voice and a great second solo, before going back to the retro/neo-sounding passage previously heard. However goods this Nobody's Story may be, the track doesn't escape a few lengths, especially in the "Mr Nobody"-yelling moments. The closing Dusk is mainly a keyboard (piano and melotron) track where Ducoumois is reminiscent of Harmonium's Fiori timbre and is a great finale to a robust and emotional album.

With a spatial artwork that could've been easily enhanced, Loneliness should occupy you for a few hours/days if you are indeed suffering from that predicament, but in the end, your mileage of this album will probably dwindle as years go by, but in the meantime, you're likely to love it. Dawn's debut is pleasant enough for most prospecting progheads to investigate and maybe invest.