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Faint Signal

Crossover Prog

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Faint Signal Faint Signal album cover
3.97 | 12 ratings | 1 reviews | 17% 5 stars

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Studio Album, released in 2013

Songs / Tracks Listing

1. The Sun Closed Its Eyes (4:17)
2. Fall and Swallow (7:10)
3. Images (3:59)
4. By the Look in Your Eyes (4:27)
5. The Reveal (5:10)
6. R.F.I.D. (The Final Mark) (4:34)
7. Seems to Me (4:52)
8. Concrete Soldier (5:18)
9. There's Enough Dirt Here (4:20)
10. Faint Signal (3:51)
11. Reality Show (4:12)
12. I.G.K.Y.A ! (3:05)

Total Time 55:15

Line-up / Musicians

- Henri Eisenbaum / guitars, keys, vocals, percussion
- Randy Campell / vocals, basses, pedals, keys


- Paul Roberts / keys
- Kevin Coil / percussion

Thanks to kev rowland for the addition
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Faint Signal by Faint Signal (2014-05-04)Faint Signal by Faint Signal (2014-05-04)
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FAINT SIGNAL Faint Signal ratings distribution

(12 ratings)
Essential: a masterpiece of progressive rock music(17%)
Excellent addition to any prog rock music collection(58%)
Good, but non-essential (25%)
Collectors/fans only (0%)
Poor. Only for completionists (0%)

FAINT SIGNAL Faint Signal reviews

Showing all collaborators reviews and last reviews preview | Show all reviews/ratings

Collaborators/Experts Reviews

Review by tszirmay
SPECIAL COLLABORATOR Honorary Collaborator
4 stars Cincinnati, Ohio! Prog! Not exactly what you would expect, I guess. Which explains the faint signal emanating from this town, a thoroughly modern approach to drama-laced heavy prog, as practiced by Porcupine Tree, Rush, Haken, Queensryche, Nemo, Anathema as well as hints of the legendary Blue Oyster Cult etc'.Curiously though, it's a duo that tackles all the instrumentation and vocals, namely the gifted Henri Eisenbaum on guitars, keys, vocals and percussion as well as Randy Campell on vocals, bass, pedals and keys, aided by some guests. The somber cover art conveys the style of the music perfectly, sonically black and white with shimmering bolts of silver judiciously inserted for maximum effect. Guitars are bold and upfront, no sissy stuff, the unbashful bass scouring the path ahead, reconnoitering the terrain for the thundering drums.

'The Sun Closed Its Eyes' uncorks the genie from the bottle, a whispering synthesized wind announces the shifting guitar riffs, the churning organ overlays and the dam-busting bass, all propelled by the mechanical drums. Like a guided missile, the track speeds into the ether, searching out some ideal kill zone, urgency dictated by strangled vocals and the bludgeoning rhythm divine. A tremendous opener that will set the record straight and narrow. There is little time for rest as the killer 'Fall and Swallow' menacingly takes control of any sunny disposition one may have and like some sonic spider, gets their resolute web ready for some imminent capture. Spooky, crude, oily and lethal, the brooding arrangement has the darker Floydian tendencies more associated with dysfunction, paranoia and fear. Like a soundtrack to some horror flick, the steamrolling angst is inescapable, showcasing clanging guitars, rainbow rifferama, depth-charge bass rumbles and tectonic drumming. Its companion-segue piece 'Images' just keeps the palpitations alive, a sensational dirge of 'memories of what used to be', the BOC imagery obvious in Randy's vocalising as well as the Buck Dharma 'like guitar slinging. The twirling synth solo really gets the blood boiling amid the drenching thunder and lightning, 'nocturnal' prog at its finest.

'By the Look in your Eyes' keeps the mood charted, kling-klang rhythms taken up by all instruments, a binary onslaught on the senses, lyrically in a desolate state of uncomfortable numbness. Henri unleashes a shimmering display on his fret board, rashly going beyond the pleasure dome, the gargoyle bass devastating and the dreamy vocals invoking some not too distant pain.

Can they keep the sonic sex going, you ask? 'The Reveal' offers a somewhat sunnier disposition, obviously reaching cruising altitude and flexing even denser musical muscles, this being a more typical prog piece, full of contrasting light and hard elements. The piano is the lead instrument here, herding the bright vocals and towing the brash arrangement with inevitable confidence. This is seriously tasty music, ornamented with detailed serenity and undeniable power.

'R.F.I.D' starts out with your typical court-room effect, with a guilty party ready for sentencing, as the lyrics deal with the emotions of a fate decided by some higher elevation of humanity. The panicked growl of injustice co-inhabits with a contrasting sense of despair, very cool messaging indeed. Another shot ends the affair rather sordidly. Hmmmm! The hefty riffs continue unabated, no rest for these lads, smashingly bright on 'Seems to Me', another edifying melange of sweet and sour, the BOC tinges clearly showing again, much to our pleasure. Toss in some symphonic swaths of dizzying synth blades, stop and start mechanics and that satanic bass that knows no respite.

'Concrete Soldier', well that's a title that needs little explanation of autopsy. The vocals emphasize a distinct sense of disgust at the game of world-policing, a labyrinth of senseless pain that has no positive outcome other than broken limbs and destroyed dreams. The stun -guitar, the raging ennui-laced Eric Bloom-like voice and the metronome beat shows off some 'secret treaty' reference about 'dominance and submission'. Blending into the extra-terrestrial, middle-eastern riffed bulldozer 'There's Enough Dirt Here' only highlights further the talent shown here, an angry rant that explodes through the speakers, weighty and filthy as only a profoundly disturbed society can express.

The perennial and uncontrolled fall from graces of the US education system is the subject matter for the title track and band moniker, the morality of a super power that cannot think any more FREELY, constantly manipulated by higher authorities, glorifying the sheriff of Nottingham and jailing the merry men of Sherwood. The various effects are added only to insult and further injure. Of course, 'Reality Show' is the companion piece, featuring a Robert Calvert meets Frank Zappa -like scornful vocal , punky attitudes and a gratuitous stab at 'That's right folks, don't touch that dial!' mentality that promotes primitive concepts at the expense of thought and intellect. There is no reality in a reality show, you stupid idiots! It's all a screenplay, duly written out for one to obey. 'IGKYA' ends this tantalizing disc on a torrential note, all fury, rage and bravado. The middle finger firmly pointing towards the heavens, the band marches on, pulsating, recklessly confident, rocking hard and well. A precision guided drone homing in inexorably on its hapless target, surrender now or else, BOOM!

What a ride! Wooowoooo!

As far as progressive rock debut's go, this is a Bengal tiger, roaring its mightiness with impunity. There is an obvious USA based renaissance underway, for which we can only be thankful. The sleepy giant awakens, inspired!

4.5 dim gestures

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