QUANTUM SILENCE

As the title clearly implies, "Overture" sets the banquet table, with a swooning instrumental that revolves around a magnificent melody, as if a soundtrack for an imaginary movie in one's mind (my personal depiction of prog for both the uninitiated and the veterans).

The haunting exquisiteness of "Cradle to Grave/Finale" got me immediately on my knees in reverence, as the ornate piano leads us on a harmonious journey of veneration, a colossal premise for Tim to express himself in that immediately recognizable voice, the paragon of soft expression as far as my ears are concerned. Glittering in the background, rivulets of suave guitar phrasings from guest Clive Ellis enhances the increasing magnificence of the arrangement. Choir mellotrons increase the mid-section's elevation into a higher level of urgency, as a bass serpent slides between a ruffled church organ, creating an apotheosis of sound and meaning. This is devastatingly sublime.

The instrumental title track keeps the choir keyboards on full alert, until the beastly percussive apparatus pummels mercilessly forward, pounding pillars of concussion into the electronic phase, mechanical yet melodious, not too distant from the legendary John Foxx in the synthetic use of synthesizers. Swirling, twirling and pirouetting, one can lose themselves in the sequenced magic as the brooding pulse exacts energy to the point of muscularity, a tour de force.

The electronic procession shows no relenting qualities on the shimmering "Project 4", as Tim's shrouded vocals resonate with trembling audacity, another modern study in sonic movement and emotional content, that injects a slithering guitar foray, penetrating in between the vocoded vocal pleas from the Pepper man.

As if one needed more proof of where the duo gets their inspiration, "Do Androids Dream?" can only be answered by AI, but chances are porkies will be told. The Kling-Klang syncopation is straight out of the Kraftwerk/Telex/Moev school, what with the bellicose bass undercurrent, shaking the tectonic foundations to the core. When a contrasting playful insert is added, the synthetic reverie becomes an echoing wave of digital madness, complete with marimba patches and vocoder exhortations just to further titillate. Perhaps the automatons have only nightmares! I would not be surprised at all that some hacker programmer decided to corrupt humanity.

And here we ultimately arrive at the genius part, a 19 minute + extravaganza "The Rift (Zelensky Mix)", a musical epic journey into a distant sonic battlefield, where human instinct for destruction remains a prime motivator for power and control. Definitely the most overtly progressive track presented here, its mere size dictating the elaborate build-up, the marshalling pace, the sorrowful melancholia emanating from Tim's microphone, sounding more like a plea for sensibility, a potential humane trait that history has not yet managed to elucidate, let alone incorporate into the advancement of our planet. Moments of placid tranquility suddenly appear, pangs of expressed hope perhaps, the pan-flute patch in particular used to full effect. Tim's vocal is always reflective and deferential, rarely angry but often anguished. The sombre bass synth echoes are poignant to the core, the piano remains ornate and hopeful, courage under fire. When war is purposefully dragged in endless blood for years on end, to satisfy the leadership of the belligerents, it's even more shameful and tragic. The reverberating pipe organ infuses gravitas and a yearning for eventual peace. A tremendously effective epic arrangement that is loaded to the gills with orchestrated walls of vocal treatment agony, provided by Lisa Lake and Barbara Neill.

A superb debut album. Stamp this with well-deserved 4.5 windy echoes