THE LONG GOODBYE

Receiving a new Galahad album is like being a parent to a newborn child, each one a joy to behold and lately, the band has been as timely as any pregnancy, birthing successfully every 9 months, or so it seems. My fascination for this band is kind of unique as I bought both the incredible 'Sleepers' and the bucolic 'Not All There' at the same time in 1995, and have not missed a single studio, live or DVD release ever since! Faithful fan I am! I am starting to wonder what more great vintages may come from the Avalon vineyards, as the recent Galahad output has been off the charts. In fact, it's not just the amazing music but the chosen themes have become extremely personal as well, as the preceding The Last Great Adventurer could also have been an homage to my father who had passed away in 2013 and whom I miss intensely each day. In 2001, my beloved mother went to the heavens, shepherded by the worst guide ever, some evil villain called Alzheimer! So, when my much-adored stepmom passed due to Covid last year, I sort of got my crimson-waxed diploma attesting to my expertise in grieving over the past 20 years. When 'the Long Goodbye' appeared so rapidly behind last year's masterpiece, I was quite emotional, as my farewells have certainly been prolonged, its as if I had some subliminal connection with this band, perhaps even accessing my mind. Throw in some thoughts on duplicity, misunderstanding, paranoia, and megalomania. Both albums contain five tracks and two bonus tracks, so, it is clearly strategically throughout.

Before diving into this opus, a quick word about Stuart Nicholson, a wonderful vocalist whose dedication to both this band and its fan base is to be commended. Owner of a terrific voice, and well schooled in the drama of theater and stage, he surely must be anointed among the truly master vocalists of the prog era, along such luminaries as Gabriel, Nichols, Fish, and company. He can hush, bellow, groove, and wail with noticeable facility, and does so convincingly. The remaining crew has been around quite awhile now, so we have a well-oiled, turbo-charged band whose sound has become even crisper, as well as infusing those trademark keyboards that span not only the prog universe but also the electronic spectrum, thus offering a freshly futuristic sheen to the material they comfortably dish out.

This phenomenal style is put to the test once again on the blazing 'Behind a Veil of A Smile', an anthemic surge of Dean Baker's synthesized frenzy, ringing guitar shavings from Lee Abraham, Mark Spencer's bruising bass bottom and solid (and I mean real solid) percussive propulsion courtesy of Spencer Luckman's drum kit. The lyrical theme may be interpreted as an essay on hypocrisy, which is a vehicle for that new modern fad of lying without any hint of remorse. Swerving synths seem to dance with the rampaging bass on 'Everything's Changed', emphasizing a twist on that eminent French adage 'Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose', where 'actions mean consequences' (well that's a novel thought today!) and how dreams can easily be shattered. Dedicated to those who constantly desire even faster internet service. Confusion will be my epitaph, as the orchestral finale clearly suggests. Why are you following me? 'Shadow in the Corner' deals with paranoid reactions, as Stu hushes 'coincidences, circumstances, random or pre-ordained, who really knows'? The burping bass guitar knows! And Lee's spiralling out of balance lead guitar solo recognizes it as well, over his shoulder, he still cannot see, only sense. A dark, brooding number that certainly evokes gloom and perhaps even doom.

A complete diversion into a handclapping by the campfire, gypsy/folk intro that winks back at 'Empires Never Last', before dive bombing into a furious rant that would make Derek Dick blush with envy, as Stu brings out his Shakespearean theatrics to the front of the stage 'Why so many lies?' as the athletic band stops on endless shifting dimes, only to pirouette into absurdum and dizziness, a rant fuelled by bickering guitars, blaming bass, shouting synths and flaming drum gymnastics that will make all those self-righteous jaws drop to the floor. Angry older lads are a hearing to behold!

The title track is the epic and the core of the album, and perhaps one of the finest tracks ever forged by the band, on par with the previous album's title track, thus completing the parental duo theme. Peter Gabriel's finest lyric was one of his simplest 'I don't remember, I don't recall, I got no memory of anything at all' and it is the quintessential thought going into this jewel of song, one that courageously deals with old age dementia, and the ugly Alzheimer scourge previously evoked. Reading the painful lyrics while embracing Stuart's passionate delivery brought me to tears, something normal for those who have lived and seen the destruction it causes. The music is respectfully grandiose, full of skin-deep emotion, the theme elevated to surreal heights with that incredible guitar, violin patch, piano, an orchestral and rhythmic mid-section evoking raw splendour, eternally rising to the skies with massive goodbye choirs that should make anyone gulp with admiration. Stunning piece of art.

Incredibly ominous and perhaps even forecasting the current chaos, 'Darker Days' is not a pretty ride by any stretch, as the world has halved into an either/or universe with no more third options seemingly. On one side, we are led to believe that we are a blessed society, loaded up with endless shopping and online gambling, while the other side is perhaps even bleaker and more evil than ever before, offering merciless fanaticism that shows little mercy, even flashing it online as if some video game. The arrangement is urgent, an endless canyon of resolute surrender as we all lie on the brink and the playing is suitably chaotic, portraying a sense of self- inflicted isolation to perfection. Buzzing guitars shred, droning synths cry, a sad piano prays, and yet Stuart tries to destroy this killing negativity, surely a hopeless fight., Stuart commends a final hurrah: 'Out in the distance, I see a little light, its just a pale pin spot but it's burning so bright'. Forever the optimist. Time to whip out Roy Buchanan's 'The Messiah Will Come Again' and what for the ETs to show up and put some order into this miasma. A candle in the wind, may it flicker forever.

Piano and voice linger on 'Open Water', as gentle orchestra and acoustic guitar float gently towards dry land, is it 'the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning'? as Winston once claimed. The track's overt simplicity is immensely impactful, a serenely gorgeous song, nothing more, nothing less. And a prefect goodbye.

5 eternal au revoirs

The British stalwart's 15th full-length studio release since their 1991 debut and fourth of the 2020s.

1. "Behind the Veil of a Smile" (6:19) Maybe it's in the lyrics, but I hear nothing new or exciting here. Nice sound and musicianship. (8.5/10)

2. "Everything's Changed" (7:39) interesting 1990s synth sounds in the intro. Stu's vocal opens sounding like Michael Stadler. Quite the hokey chorus--both musically and lyrically--but its melody remains after the song is over. The "Turn Me Loose" bass lines are a bit distractting. Nothing new or exciting here. Nice sound and musicianship.(12.75/15)

3. "Shadow in the Corner" (5:28) interesting percussion-led intro morphs in the second minute into something that sounds like a blending of THE WHO ("Eminence Front") and THE PET SHOP BOYS. The chorus reminds me even more of the style and affect of the lead singer of The Pet Shop boys. Nice lead guitar work in the fifth minute. (8.7/10)

4. "The Righteous and the Damned" (8:37) the a cappella isolation of Stu's voice really exposes one to hear the age of his voice: he's still got great control and style but the strength and clarity of his pitch selection seems to have weakened. The European folk ethnic instruments that the band chooses to accompany Stu for the 1:20 to 2:30 section is interesting. After this, the music turns all "compressed heavy" (with a two-chord kind of foundation) while Stu continues to present the music in an ethnic (Klezmer? MYRATH?) style. Nice drumming from Spencer Luckman. With just voice, drums, and distant power chords (mirrored exactly by the keyboards) the music just seems too thin--like it's missing something. Interesting and unusual song. (17.25/20)

5. "The Long Goodbye" (12:58) The chorus sounds like something straight off of NEW ORDER's 1993 album, Chemical. This is definitely the most interesting and dynamically creative song on the album (despite its New Order familiarity). Aside from the borrowed New Order melodies (especially in the choruses), I hear a rather blatant PETER NICHOLLS delivery of the vocals in the verses. The song crescendoes way too early with a soulless guitar solo followed by group choral singing of the song's title and some orchestra strings to take us out at the very end. I mean, it checks all the boxes, but without much authentic-sounding vim or vigor. (22/25)

- CD bonus tracks: 6. "Darker Days" (7:45) an effectively kinetic foundation kicks off from the opening gate containing the perfect amount of space in the midrange for the vocal presentation of a story. Reminds me very much of BLUE ÖYSTER CULT (now and then)--especially the guitar solo near the end--as well as a Peter Nicholls IQ performance. (13.125/15)

7. "Open Water" (4:08) Stu singing in a STEVE HOGARTH voice on one of Marillion's subdued songscapes. He's a little pitchy here and there, and there's not much else to this song besides the acoustic guitar work and vocal. (8.5/10)

Total Time 52:54

There are a lot of ballad-like deliveries of Stu Nicholson's vocals on this album: simplified progscapes that serve more to convey his stories/lyrics--which means there is not a lot of fluff, flourish, and nuance within the music below Stu's voice; this means that this is a very lyrics-oriented and message driven album, which is never my strong suit. Aside from a couple guitar solos (on "The Long Goodbye" and "Darker Days") and some klezmer-like instrument choices (on "The Righeous and the Damned"), there's a sad lack of much going on in the music/instrument department here--downright woeful in the keys department.

B-/3.5 stars; a disappointing and rather lackluster product from one of Britain's long-standing stalwarts of "second wave" Prog (what we've come to call "NeoProg"). Good, but nowhere near essential.

With a relationship stretching back more than 30 years, my prog writing journey will always be inextricably linked to Galahad as theirs was the first album I bought from the underground scene, while they in turn put me in touch with another band and it all went downhill from then. I have written words for a few of their booklets, and while I have not seen them play since moving to New Zealand I am still often in contact with singer Stu Nicholson. I know this closeness means I am never nearly as objective as others when it comes to reviewing Galahad, but when a band keeps putting out wonderful albums then I feel justified in continually singing their praises. This is their twelfth studio album, and features the same line-up as with the last release, 'The Last Great Adventurer', namely Stu Nicholson (vocals), Dean Baker (keyboards), Spencer Luckman (drums), Lee Abraham (guitars) and Mark Spencer (bass guitar). Recorded in multiple places it was then edited, mixed and mastered by engineer/producer Karl Groom (Threshold/Dragonforce/Pendragon/Arena/Yes etc.) who has now been working with them for some time.

This is possibly the most polished release to date from the Dorset boys, with a somewhat heavier emphasis on Stu's vocals as the band continue to evolve. When I first knew them they were solid 90's neo prog, then moved into prog metal with the change in approach heralded by the arrival of Dean Baker and now happily straddle multiple sub- genres so while they are firmly "prog" it would be wrong to try and shoehorn them into any particular bucket. I have known Karl nearly as long as Stu, and while I always think of him first and foremost as a guitarist, he has built a richly deserved reputation on the other side of the desk, and has done wonders in bringing Spencer's playing to the fore. When I listen back to early recordings one cannot hear all the work being put behind the kit, but when those tracks have been remastered by Karl it has been like hearing a new band, and here Spencer can be heard driving the band ever onwards. Mark is a multi-instrumentalist (and a fine singer in his own right), so his approach to the bass is quite different in that he is looking to see what he can add to the melody as well as underpinning the arrangement, while Lee is another renowned performer and his second stint in the band (he was originally bassist) as guitarist has allowed him to spread his musical wings. All this adds to the way the band keeps shifting and melding, while Dean is a musical magpie who didn't even know what prog was until he joined the band a quarter of a century ago, and his relationship with Stu has meant they keep shifting and changing.

I mean, listen to "The Righteous and the Damned", which commences with some acapella vocals overlaid on background noise of people walking around, but what some may not realise is that Stu is singing the words from the title cut of 2007's 'Empires Never Last' before somehow the music segues into something Eastern European and folky. One of the joys of Galahad is they no longer feel shackled by any expectations so instead do whatever they want, and when this song turns into a System of a Down-style belter I was not too surprised, but was very pleased. The title cut of this album is about dealing with dementia and is very personal indeed. Stu has always had a way with words and here he paints a picture while Dean is there by his side on piano as we build into the piece. The layers gradually build as we are taken into the world of someone who is "filling up this thing which makes the water go hot, to make some drinks for people in another room whose names escape me". Those two lines are incredibly powerful, and the arrangements allow for us to understand the emotions being displayed and the sense of loss and helplessness. As the song ends Stu takes two lines from Gabriel's "I Don't Remember", which itself was about being trapped in a situation it is impossible to get out of, and delivers them in an incredibly poignant manner.

Musically this album is all over the place, from Eighties-style electronic dance through to prog metal and everything in between, yet the vocals and arrangements bring the album together so one looks forward to the next unexpected fork in the road and the detour where we move back on ourselves or in a totally different direction. Galahad consistently refuse to rest on their laurels and show no sign at all of losing inspiration or slowing down, and long may that continue.