THE ORPHAN EPOCH

Cosmograf is a very consistent project, but I noticed recently that I tend to love an album, then just enjoy the next, then love the following one, and so on. So, starting with the first one I heard, The Man Left in Space, I loved it, then only partially connected with Capacitor, then adored The Unreasonable Silence, and on and on. That trend has stopped, however. I absolutely loved 2022's Heroic Materials, and now Robin is launching The Orphan Epoch on May 23rd, and it is close to tying with Mind Over Depth as my favorite from him.

Robin Armstrong of the UK is the brains behind the project. When I say "brains", I really do mean that since Cosmograf is lyrically heady and precisely composed in a way that only a perfectionist could produce. He brings with him fantastic drummer Kyle Fenton, and Peter Jones guests on saxophone on one track.

This album represents some changes in Cosmograf. I mean, the sound is basically the same: progressive rock with some edge. But I sense something different, not so much an evolution as a full realization of the project's style. Robin doesn't seem shy about flexing his guitarist muscles anymore, and the keys, too, are gorgeous and played with aplomb. With the excellent rhythm section, towering saxophone spot, and continued strong lyrics, this album feels more completely Cosmograf.

The album addresses the divide that society wants to place between groups of people. This choice is most often binary, never nuanced or accounting for other ideas. They want to herd us into one of two labels, which I suppose would make it easier to control. The Orphan Epoch sets this as a foundation but then discusses young people and the disconnection and disinformation that is fed to them as they grow to become the next generation. What future awaits? Can the world handle such toxicity and lies?

The album has seven songs and they are all terrific. The singles "Kings and Lords" and "You Didn't See the Thief" are both outstanding; I love how hard the former rocks, and how the backing vocals add a sense of sobriety and history. Robin's guitar solo near the end is pure fire. The latter is even better, though, with its reserved character, electronic tone, and robust instrumental. What a great song!

But, you know, those aren't even my favorites. I love the opener "Division Warning", a pumping and powerful track with celestial keys and a sense of urgency. "We Are the Young" follows with more of an acoustic sound, but that marches into a whirling organ atmosphere of choices and confusion and melody.

My favorite track on the album is "Seraphim Reels", feeling a bit like a 2000s Porcupine Tree song with an injection of saxophone. I absolutely adore how Peter is featured throughout; Robin's voice is perhaps the most vulnerable and expressive that it's ever been. It's honestly a quieter track for the most part, but Peter lays down a thrilling, gritty sax solo that blows me away every time. I love how Robin's guitar takes its lead, ending the track in a deeply satisfying way.

The last two tracks on the album are both winners, too. "Empty Box" is a softer song that mostly floats in dark spaces with Robin's vocals. I like how it briefly erupts near the end, but the song works very well as an introspective break in the music. The closer "The Road of Endless Miles" doesn't try to impress with fancy tricks; no, this piece is pure and golden rock with fantastic guitar work, a memorable rhythmic hook, and an ambience that makes me want to listen forever. Between the gorgeous piano and melodic guitar work, the song easily becomes a favorite even if just because it sounds so damn attractive.

Cosmograf's albums are always worth the time, and it feels like Robin is only getting better at what he does. This album is quintessential Cosmograf, more so than anything else he's produced. Combine that with some of the feelings of Porcupine Tree's Fear of a Blank Planet, and you have a potent record that prog rock fans absolutely must hear.

The 'galactic earl' is back, Robin Armstrong having carved a rather illustrious career for himself, on the strength of his mastery of two major factors for any kind of success (personal or artistic) : quality and consistency . Owner of pretty much his entire discography, I hold him personally responsible for providing me and my battered soul, countless days of unmitigated sonic joy, with such glorious productions as The Man Left in Space, Capacitor, The Hay-Man Dreams, among many others, and most especially his previous album Heroic Materials which I consider to be an outright prog classic. "The Orphan Epoch" features, as per norm, Robin's multi-instrumental prowess on everything but the drum kit, here held by long-time collaborator Kyle Fenton as well as asking Peter Jones to blow some sexy sax on "Seraphim Reels".

Piano to plunge into the "Division Warning ", a temperamental etude that launches a devastating surge of enraged guitars and even angrier vocals, the venomous solo flung two steps away from madness, the echoed distance in the voice ominous , oh my Robin is really pissed off! Fenton's depth charge concussions are petrifying as well. A merciless onslaught that finally subsides into abject solemnity. I feel already bereaved and it's only the opening track.

Thankfully, "We Are the Young" is easily more nostalgia than Armageddon, laced with a deep melancholia bordering on romantic souvenirs of times gone by in a flash, bullied by the next 'important' event. The piano maintains its haunting recollections of lost melodies, and the tired voice somehow urgently searches for something or someone. Robin doing some loving caresses on his fretboard, a bluesy feel to the flickers of his wrist, until fate hits the fan and the marching drums lead the parade into an expanse perhaps near the Waters Wall, the bass flirting with grumbling disaster, the electric guitar spitting out rancid slivers of aggression and an organ no longer in the confines of a church. A very cohesive sense of confusion, perhaps an eventual epitaph for the elderly.

Wailing voice and weeping saxophone meet in agreement on "Seraphim Reels", and they certainly hold on to each other like two lovers on the bow of the Titanic, the scorching solo guitar carving up all the emotions of the universe, as the dreams always seem different from what it seems. Peter Jones erupts into blistering scream on his saxophone, a brassy voice that compares to none, Robin gliding on his axe's neck, bending strings and dripping sweat, tears and blood.

A grandiose feeling of cavernous disassociation rules on "Kings and Lords", massive choir work in particular expressing the voice of the land. The drawbridge is lowered, and the teaching begins, the muscular riffs establish a foothold on the coat tails of the truth, the bass curtailing any form of objection to the path ahead, with Fenton pummelling like a man possessed. Its an angry, heavy and a tad insane blast of hissing prog. The mood remains gloomy on "You Didn't See the Thief", not surprising in the world of unending lies and distortions, Robin hitting the highest notes on the microphone whilst the atmosphere maintains tenseness as expertly shown by the intimidating bass revolt underneath the scratched surface. This polarity between the extremes is compelling and beguiling , traits that keep the listener on the brink, never quite knowing what comes next , even after multiple listens. It makes his compositions timeless and adventurous, always dancing close to the edge. An oasis of ambient reflection is more than welcome , and "Empty Box" is far from being devoid of any ennui or fluff, it's an incredibly poignant track that works more on a subliminal level, as if deeply ensconced in some soporific trance, touching not flexed muscle but grey matter instead. The guitar pyrotechnics underline the internal torture of solitude, just long enough for the appearance of some blessed panacea. Gorgeous.

Finishing off in raw mode is portrayed on the possessed "The Road of Endless Miles", a no-nonsense expression of pure emotion, no hint of theatrics, no frills, the melodic piano almost honky-tonk and the guitar definitely rock n roll. But it's the heartfelt vocals that really sets this track and album apart, Robin can alter his tone seemingly at will, in order to fit the right mindset. Not surprising for a master musician who is savagely uninterested in compromising his craft. We are therefore blessed once again to listen to his magical music, hallowed be thy name! 5 stray times