The “progressive rock” label isn’t an albatross that too many bands are quick to hang around their necks these days, which makes the press materials accompanying SMPT:e – a clever acronym representing Roine Stolt, Neal Morse, Mike Portnoy and Pete Trewavas – all the more confusing. Transatlantic has proudly taken up the prog-rock mantle and they don’t care who knows. A literal alt-rock supergroup, composed of various members of Dream Theater, Marillion, and Spock’s Beard, these guys have obviously done their homework, polishing off those old Yes, King Crimson, and ELP records and taking heavy notes. The five songs on SMPT:e may have their roots in 1970s-styled, classically-influenced progressive rock but Transatlantic has brought the genre into the new millennium with some fresh new ideas and more than a few original hooks. Even the cover artwork for SMPT:e resembles one of Roger Dean’s hallucinogenic paintings that used to grace so many prog-rock album covers.
SMPT:e opens with an obviously Yes-inspired thirty-minute track titled “All of the Above” which manages to imprint each of its six suites with a different sound and feel. Mixing elements of classic rock and improvisational jazz with prog-rock roots, “All of the Above” never drags or annoys in spite of its considerable length. Other cuts also manage to breathe new life into the prog-rock corpse: “We All Need Some Light” is a dark-hued, melancholy work while “Mystery Train” is a syncopated, more upbeat number that utilizes the various band member’s voices in creating some nice harmonies. The lone cover on SMPT:e is the appropriately chosen Procol Harum’s “In Held (Twas) In I,” offered here as an extended aural painting, a textured composition complete with zen-like spoken word into. A complex, multi-layered, and ambitious work, Transatlantic’s SMPT:e is a hard album to get a handle on, but one well worth the effort. (Radiant / Metal Blade Records) Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine, 2000
For long-suffering progressive rock fans, the arrival of
Spock’s Beard
was a revelation. The mid-70s glory days of bona fide prog-rock were long over,
the genre’s early bands providing mere blueprints for a future that had yet to
show up for dinner. The 1995 release of The Light, the debut album from
California band Spock’s Beard, punctured the dark cloud of somber Seattle bands
like a laser beam. The band self-financed and originally self-released the
album, because, in the mid-90s, what record label in its right mind would sign a
prog-rock band, for Pete’s sake, when the Pacific Northwest was such a fertile
rock ‘n’ roll breeding ground?
Little did the major label A&R
people know at the time that they were overlooking one of the first major steps
towards a prog-rock revival. History has proven that Spock’s Beard’s
The Light rivals only the parallel release of Roine Stolt’s
The Flower King in importance and influence on the burgeoning prog-rock
scene. Picking up the torch that had been discarded by obvious touchstones Yes
and the Peter Gabriel-era Genesis, Spock’s Beard in America and the Flower Kings
in Europe went about creating memorable music, jump-starting a long-dormant
musical tradition.
Spock’s Beard’s The Light
The importance of The Light on the growth of prog-rock is obvious only in
retrospect. However, I can’t imagine the subsequent popularity of bands like
Arena, IQ, and Threshold, as well as prog-oriented record labels like Magna
Carta and Inside Out without Spock’s Beard. How does this groundbreaking album
hold up a decade after its release? For that matter, what about the band’s
following releases, 1996’s Beware of Darkness and 1997’s
Kindness of Strangers, both important albums in their own light? Metal Blade Records recently
reissued all three of these pioneering prog-rock albums in deluxe, digitally
remastered editions with liner notes by founder
Neal Morse, lyrics and rare photos and let me tell you, they all still sound as
remarkably fresh and startlingly original as they did a decade
ago.
Many consider
The Light to be Spock’s Beard’s finest recorded moment, and I would not
argue the point save to throw in a few caveats. Considering the album’s
pedigree, the era in which it was released, and the circumstances surrounding
its recording and the formation of the band, I would gladly concede the album’s
influence. However, after careful consideration of the band’s entire catalog, I
would consider The Light’s place in the Spock’s Beard canon to be that of
a secondary effort. It is an important release, the first album for the band
and, given the musical climate of the time, a bold departure from mainstream
culture. However, I personally feel that later Spock’s Beard releases better
define or further refine the band’s trademark sound.
Which is not to
say that The Light should be dismissed as inadequate – it is merely a
lesser work in relation to the band’s growing catalog of excellence.
The Light remains a highly entertaining album and an amazing showcase for
the young talents of the band’s founders, brothers Neal and Al Morse. The
technical proficiency and mastery of their instruments shown by the Morse
brothers, bassist Dave Meros, and drummer Nick D’Virgilio is quite stunning and
nothing short of amazing. Absorbing the classic influence of Yes and that band’s
penchant for extended song suites, The Light stands alone as a solid work
of composition and lyricism.
The album kicks off with the
fifteen-minute title track, broken down into eight disparate musical sections
that evoke the music of Yes and King Crimson, vintage ‘60s psychedelic rock,
even Spanish Flamenco, and would offer Spock’s Beard’s first overt Beatles
references. Although Neal Morse’s raw vocals would later grow smoother and more
mature, here they evince a certain energy and eagerness that stands in contrast
to the popular music of the day. Al Morse quickly becomes a guitarist to be
reckoned with, a talented fretboard artist whose ability to both compliment and
dominate a song’s arrangement would become a major factor in the Spock’s sound.
“The Light” is a suitable kick-off for the album of the same name, the band
running through several musical styles from its bag of tricks, setting the stage
for the listener and revealing the possibilities of that which would follow.
Neal Morse’s lyrics range from insightful to oblique, often within the course of
the same verse.
“Go the Way You Go” is slightly shorter than the
opening title track, but no less grand. With extended instrumental passages that
often descend into chaos, Neal Morse’s best pop star vocals, some fine band
harmonies and the positive outlook of its lyrics, the song was a signpost of the
band’s later musical direction. The song also shows off some of Neal’s best
keyboard wizardry, with jazzy flourishes inspired by Billy Cobham and Herbie
Hancock. A second song suite, “The Water,” clocks in at a taxing twenty-two
minutes and contains both some of the band’s most exhilarating musical moments
and, possibly, its most embarrassing.
“The Water” begins with some
classically informed piano, evolving into a Rick Wakeman styled keyboard romp
before leaping headfirst into a clash of vocals, guitar, keyboards, and
percussion. Through the song’s seven or eight distinctive sections, the band
quotes Pink Floyd and ELP and even throws in some soulful, Motownish backing
vocals. Al Morse’s guitar crackles and snaps like a bullwhip, punctuating his
brother’s vocals with stabbing riffs and reckless fretboard runs. Neal’s lyrics
here are dark and angry, resulting in the aforementioned embarrassing moment on
the “FU” section of the song when the pissed-off singer screams “fuck you” in
his most punkish voice.
The emotion seems forced, however, not wry
as with Nilsson’s “you broke my heart, you tore it apart, so fuck you” or
genuinely frustrated/confused/angry as on a million punk rock songs. It’s a
minor glitch in an otherwise ambitious song, and the resulting section, the
pastoral “I’m Sorry,” only partially redeems the lapse in judgement. The second
half of the song veers back into classic prog-rock territory, featuring maestro
performances from the band’s instrumentalists while musically and lyrically the
last two segments of “The Water” serve to connect the earlier segments,
completing the song’s story and themes.
By comparison with the rest
of the album, the brief and lively six-minute “On the Edge” sounds like an edit
made for radio. Al’s atmospheric six-string work is razor sharp and quite
engaging, complimenting Neal’s dancing keyboard passages while Meros and
D’Virgilio provide a strong, and often quite funky, rhythmic undercurrent. The
song is about as close to commercial as the band would come on The Light;
unfortunately it was the right song in the wrong era. If it had been released
two decades earlier, it would have been embraced by fans of Yes, ELP and
possibly Zappa’s Mothers of Invention as the innovative pairing of intelligent
lyricism and instrumental virtuosity that it is. The Metal Blade reissue of
The Light includes the band’s original homebrew demo for the title track,
interesting mostly in comparison, hearing the foundation on which the final
rendition was built.
Part of the charm of Spock’s Beard has
always been the band’s innate ability to quote several decades of musical
predecessors without sounding trite, revisionist, or derivative. Whether miming
the Beatles, David Bowie, Yes, or whomever they might consciously or
subconsciously choose, Spock’s Beard has always made its musical references
personal, its interpretations unique and entirely original. At no time was this
more apparent than on The Light. Spock’s Beard’s debut album would do an
excellent job in establishing the band’s credibility and announcing its arrival
to the world outside of the insular Southern California rock scene. It is
rightfully considered a classic of modern-day prog-rock, and rightfully so. But
for Spock’s Beard, it was only the beginning.
Spock’s Beard’s Beware of Darkness
In my mind, Beware of Darkness stands as one of the band’s most vital
works. The growth in skill and vision from the band’s first album is enormous,
Spock’s Beard showcasing an increased maturity and chemistry in the conceptual
song cycle. Part of the reason for the band’s improvement was the addition of
keyboardist Ryo Okumoto, who fleshed out the band’s sound with a perspective
entirely his own. This would remain the Spock’s line-up for quite some time, the
band creating a lasting legacy on the strength of a handful of recordings.
Using
Leon Russell’s somewhat suspect arrangement of George Harrison’s wonderful
“Beware of Darkness,” Neal Morse goes on to “prog up” the song with keyboard
improvisations, syncopated vocals and brother Al’s wicked guitar riffing. The
song also features Okumoto’s introductory keyboard solo, the new member showing
off his chops for the first time. The SB arrangement of the song retains the
spirit of the original while also taking it into an entirely different stylistic
direction. Although some of Russell’s original vocals resulted in Morse’s
misinterpretation of the lyrics, it all works out fine. “Beware Of Darkness”
opens the door for an album consisting of shorter songs that would feature more
concise and focused instrumental interludes. Spock’s Beard’s later albums would
vacillate back and forth between this approach and that of the lengthier song
suites.
“Thoughts” was inspired by Neal’s discovery of
Gentle Giant, an obscure British prog-rock band similar to Genesis but with more classical
music influences. The instrumental passage that opens the song sounds somewhat
Baroque to these ears, with syncopated rhythms leading to an enviable bit of
harmonic vocal interplay that would have the members of Yes in awe. The song’s
lyrics are a reflective look inward, an introspective treatment of doubt and
hesitation. With its unusual arrangement and interesting vocal gymnastics, the
song would stand out on any prog-rock album.
A gentle classical piano
intro opens “The Doorway,” the second longest song on Beware of Darkness.
The keyboards eventually kick in, the percussion begins pounding and Al Morse’s
multi-layered and textured guitarwork runs the gamut from subtle acoustic
craftsmanship to sharp circular rhythms. The song features some of Neal’s
finest, most passionate vocals and, perhaps, the sparsest arrangement of any
Spock’s Beard song at that point. Midway through the song, however, everybody
takes a turn showcasing their instrumental prowess and the song finishes as a
grand fusion of classical influence and rock ‘n’ roll showmanship, Al’s fluid
guitar lines and a wicked keyboard riff carrying the song out.
The
instrumental “Chatauqua” features some wonderfully crafted Spanish-styled guitar
by Al Morse, providing an excellent showcase for the guitarist’s range and
versatility. The full-blown prog-rock rave-up “Walk On the Wind” would follow,
the song’s oblique lyrical poetry among Morse’s best, his vocals rising and
falling in range with the instrumentation. Al is once again allowed to stretch
out, delivering an electric lead solo that sparks with life and energy. The
playful clashing of Morse’s piano and Okumoto’s keyboards is subtle and almost
lost in the mix.
“Waste Away” is a fine song about self-delusion and
lost opportunities, Morse’s stylized lyrics supported by folkish acoustic
guitar, chiming keyboards and a big beat. By the time that Al’s electric guitar
kicks in, Neal’s vocals rise in volume and intensity, driving his lyrical point
home with some force. At a mere five minutes in length, “Waste Away” would have
made for some great-sounding radio.
The album ends with the epic
“Time Had Come,” a sixteen-minute revisiting of prog-rock’s finer moments that
has plenty of what the band’s early fans came to hear – lengthy instrumental
jams, a spacey arrangement, altered vocals, and hard-to-decipher lyrics. The
band channels elements of early Pink Floyd, Wakeman-era Yes, vintage ‘60s
psychedelica, and ‘70s-styled space-rock and even a little German-influenced
electronic rock. The reissued Beware of Darkness includes the original
home demos of the title track and “The Doorway,” perhaps the album’s two
strongest and most entertaining songs.
Spock’s Beard’s The Kindness of Strangers
A year after the release of Beware of Darkness, Spock’s Beard would
return with The Kindness of Strangers. Needless to say, releasing three
lengthy and complex albums like the band’s first three in a relatively short
period of time is quite a feat to accomplish. These weren’t mindless pop albums
churned out by faceless musicians using pre-fab songs but rather intricate and
carefully crafted musical collaborations created with a precise blend of
songwriting, vocals and instrumental performances captured using
state-of-the-art recording techniques. Regardless of what Spock’s Beard would go
on to accomplish in the latter part of the decade – which was quite a lot, by
the way, the band’s first three albums ensured them of a lasting prog-rock
legacy and immense influence.
With The Kindness of Strangers, the
band takes a “best of all worlds approach,” bookending the album with two
lengthy song suites, similar to its debut disc, and filling in the middle with
shorter AOR-friendly songs, refining the tact from their second album. The album
features Neal Morse’s most fully-realized lyrics to date, the musician finding
his voice as a songwriter, moving away from the oblique poetry of the first two
Spock’s Beard albums towards a more direct, traditional style of writing.
The Kindness of Strangers also shows the first signs of the band’s underlying
pop tendencies, the songs including more Beatlesque hooks between the amazing
flights of instrumental virtuosity.
The album also includes Neal
Morse’s first overt attempts at social commentary in his lyrics. “The Good Don’t
Last,” a song suite in three parts, displays Morse’s disgust with assembly-line
produced pop culture and foreshadows his eventual embrace of Christianity with
the spiritual segment “The Radiant Is.” The ten-minute opus includes a nice
orchestral string section that augments Okumoto’s dazzling keyboard runs and
brother Al’s magnificent guitarwork. “In the Mouth of Madness” is grand in
scope; a fine example of what would become Spock’s Beard’s trademark sound.
Plenty of handsome string-bending by Al Morse, a fireworks display of keyboards
and synths and drummer D’Virgilio’s most outrageous workout yet. If you had to
play one song for a friend to explain prog-rock to the uninitiated, “In the
Mouth of Madness” would be that song.
“Cakewalk On Easy Street”
offers some positive lyrics, a reaffirmation of being and a reminder that things
could always be worse. Neal’s lyrics are supported by some tasteful piano fills,
D’Virgilio’s dynamic rhythms and knotty six-string manipulation by Al. According
to Neal Morse’s liner notes, “June” almost didn’t make the cut to be included on
The Kindness of Strangers, which would have been a mistake. “June” features
some wonderful three-part harmonies and an overall acoustic-pop sound that made
it a popular song with live audiences. “Strange World” displays Neal’s wry sense
of humor, the song’s commentary outlining society’s unbalanced sense of
priorities and the often times unrecognized surrealism of life. Morse’s vocals
are altered at times, with spacey, effects-laden guitarwork skewed towards a
psychedelic sound.
The lengthy “Harm’s Way” is the album’s
instrumental showcase. The song is held down by a steady, rock-solid Dave Meros
bassline upon which the rest of the band embroiders its various solos and
musical embellishments. The song’s lyrical message seems to be “live your life,”
a sort of “carpe diem” philosophy. With varying passages and time changes as
well as evolving atmospherics, “Harm’s Way” is another fine example of prog-rock
classicism. The second song suite “Flow” closes the original album, its three
disparate segments running hot and cold with changing musical moods and various
emotional palettes. The song offers a meditative reflection on the nature of
life and points towards Neal Morse’s future lyrical inclinations, the
metaphorical lyrics more closely akin to those on the band’s first two
albums.
The reissued The Kindness of Strangers includes several
bonus tracks, including radio edits of “The Good Don’t Last,” “Cakewalk On Easy
Street” and “In the Mouth of Madness” that reign in the band’s instrumental
tendencies and tighten the focus of the lyrics and instrumentation. Although all
three songs would make for refreshing radio programming, “Cakewalk On Easy
Street” would have been my choice to serve as an introductory taste of Spock’s
Beard, the song’s positive message and amazing soundtrack providing a strong
initial impression of the band. The original home demos for “June” and “Strange
World” round out this version of the album, offering insight into the evolution
of both songs.
With TheKindness of Strangers, the band’s musical
vision and personal chemistry hit another peak. The band would subsequently tour
Europe, earning a loyal following that appreciates the prog-rock aesthetic and
eagerly supports both Spock’s Beard and Neal Morse’s individual and
collaborative musical efforts. The first three Spock’s Beard albums built a
solid foundation for the band’s live performances and raised expectations for
future recordings. After releasing three exhausting albums in three years, the
band would not venture into the recording studio for over a year, releasing its
next album, Day For Night in 1999.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
Neal Morse left the band he founded in 2003 after almost a decade of
acting as the Spock’s Beard ringleader. As the primary songwriter for the band
as well as a charismatic lead vocalist and multi-talented instrumentalist,
Morse’s controversial defection left the future of Spock’s Beard up in the
air. While Morse, a born-again Christian, went through a period of
self-reflection and soul-searching after he left the band, he started a solo
career without missing a beat. Two excellent solo albums, along with his
collaborations with Roine Stolt of the Flower Kings and Mike Portnoy of Dream
Theater under the Transatlantic name has kept Morse’s work in the public eye.
Spock’s Beard has also soldiered on, drummer Nick D’Virgilio
taking over the vocal duties and the band sharing the songwriting on its two
post-Neal albums, Feel Euphoria and the new Octane. The band’s
sound has undergone a gradual evolution, featuring a harder rock ‘n’ roll edge
and more AOR-radio friendly sound. The band remains one of the most popular in
progressive rock, however, even as it continues to break new ground with
innovations in sound and performance. The first three Spock’s Beard albums,
however, resurrected by Metal Blade, remain fan favorites, defining the band’s
signature sound and widening the audience for prog-rock during the ‘90s.
(Metal Blade Records, released 2004) Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine, 2004
The remaining members of Spock's Beard had a lot to live up to when founding member and songwriter Neal Morse left the band a couple of years back. The major architect of the trademark Spock's sound, Morse's departure forced the other band members to step up and take the reins of the popular prog-rock trailblazers.
With drummer Nick D'Virgilio assuming lead vocal duties and underrated guitarist Al Morse stepping into the spotlight more often, the band took on a harder, rock-oriented edge with its two post-Neal albums, Feeling Euphoria and Octane. The band developed a collective approach to songwriting that took advantage of their individual strength's, bringing in friends John Boeghold and Stan Ausmus for lyrical assistance where needed.
Spock's Beard's Gluttons For Punishment
All that was missing was for the "new" band to establish its identity as a top-notch performance outfit, a questionable goal they seem to have rapidly achieved. After all, this is basically the same batch of guys that recorded such classic modern prog albums as The Light and Beware of Darkness. Morse's abdication changed the band's sound and, perhaps, its focus but the talent and instrumental creativity remained in place. As documented by Gluttons For Punishment, the first live set from Spock's Beard, version II, any questions about the band's performance skills were absurd from the beginning.
Recorded during Spock's Beard's Spring 2005 European tour, Gluttons For Punishment, Live In '05 effectively recreates the recent Octane album almost in its entirety and in virtually the same running order as the studio original. Although it's unusual for a band to release a live disc in such close proximity to a studio album, the clamoring of fans evidently tipped the band's hand. There is some embroidery provided the studio versions of the Octane songs, albeit very little, and although the performances are dynamic and multi-layered, one can't help but wonder what a little more time might have added to these songs in the way of instrumental interpretation.
At the End of the Day
The band all but ignores its recent Feeling Euphoria album, covering only two of that disc's songs in "The Bottom Line" and "Ghosts of Autumn," alongside a sparse selection of songs from earlier Spock's releases. "Harm's Way," from 1998's The Kindness of Strangers, provides an ample dose of keyboard wizard Ryo Okumoto's mad riffing while also offering an excellent showcase for Al Morse's understated and elegant fretwork. V's "At the End of the Day" kicks off the second disc, D'Virgilio's vocals taking the song in different directions than Morse's original reading, the tune benefiting from some improvisational jazz-rock fusion styled passages.
Since taking over as the band's frontman, D'Virgilio vocals have steadily improved, the talented drummer also forging a distinctive vocal identity around the band's evolving sound. Nowhere is D'Virgilio's confidence more evident than on the album-closing, nearly twenty-minute revisiting of "The Light" from the very first Spock's Beard album. The vocalist stretches his talents to their limits in recreating the roller-coaster highs and lows and dangerous curves of the song's lengthy and varied performance. Given new muscle by the various players' more aggressive direction, "The Light" is both a reminder of the past and a bridge to the band's musical future.
The Reverend's Bottom Line
Spock's Beard remains one of the most intriguing and innovative bands on the modern progressive rock landscape, a wonderful match of talents and musical chemistry that has continuously moved forward for over 20 years. Gluttons For Punishment, Live In '05 is a fair snapshot of this moment in time for Spock's Beard, an entertaining and exhilarating performance from one of the guiding lights of the current prog-rock movement. (Inside Out Music, released May 3, 2005)
Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™, 2005
Guitarist Alan Morse is almost exclusively known for his day job as a founding member, along with his brother Neal, of neo-prog legends Spock’s Beard. Over the past 15 years, Spock’s Beard has risen to the top of the modern prog world, the band’s ever-evolving sound splashed across nine studio albums and half-a-dozen live sets. Nothing if not prolific, Spock’s Beard has helped define prog-rock for a generation of fans, and Alan Morse’s nimble fretwork and creative talents are a major element of the band’s trademark sound.
Through the years, however, Morse had never found the time or inclination to record a solo album. Our loss, really, because as a player Morse is perhaps one of the most underrated axemen in the world of rock music, no doubt overlooked by the critical intelligentsia because of his “progressive” background. No matter, really, because Morse’s first solo album – Four O’ Clock and Hysteria – has arrived, and guitar fans everywhere are going to have to sit up and take notice. If you’re impressed by the likes of Jeff Beck, Steve Vai, Paul Gilbert, or Joe Satriani, then you’re going to kick your own ass ‘til it turns blue when that snot-nosed little punk from down the street – the one with the black-dyed hair and nose-ring – THROWS Alan Morse’s solo debut in your face!
Alan Morse’s Four O' Clock and Hysteria
Freed of the constraints of the band dynamic, Morse was able to go nuts and CUT LOOSE on Four O’ Clock and Hysteria, unleashing his inner improviser and exploring the depths of his considerable talents. Um, I’d say that it worked; admirably, actually, with Morse merging disparate styles and instrumental genres into one giant mofo six-string workout. With brother Neal at the boards to capture every passing nuance, Morse tosses bits ‘n’ pieces of rock, prog, jazz, and blues into the blender, turns the button over to “shred” and hits that sucker with a mallet. The resulting instrumental gumbo evokes memories of notes, riffs, and magical moments from a dozen legendary six-string wizards, ranging from the Yardbirds troika of Clapton, Beck, and Page to Duane Allman; from Al DiMeola, Shuggie Otis and Ernie Isley to Rory Gallagher, as well as modern-day guitar heroes like Vai and Satriani. Morse takes ‘em all, adds his own indelible stamp, and makes it all new again.
Morse is joined here by his mates from Spock’s Beard – bassist Dave Meros, drummer Nick D’Virgilio, and keyboardist Ryo Okumoto, impressive talents all – as well as by some friends from the CCM community, in-demand session players like bassist Gary Lunn and drummer Scott Williamson and, of course, his multi-instrumental brother Neal Morse. With his first album, Morse delivers a dozen complex, energetic and creative instrumental songs that illustrate his amazing skills and diverse creative chops. “Cold Fusion,” for instance, is a trippy little slice o’ space funk, with a constantly-shifting electronic buzz laid down behind Morse’s fluid leads, Okumoto’s keyboard riffing providing an excellent counterpoint to Alan’s squiggly lines.
The atmospheric “R Bluz” has an underlying Brit blooze-rock feel to it, Morse tearing off some Claptonesque tones while either Neal or Ryo kicks the keyboards until all sort of icy-cool psychedelic-jazz notes come tumbling out. The deceptively soulful “First Funk” is actually a mellow, but powerful instrumental jam, the kind of ethereal, R&B-tinged tune that we used to enjoy back in the late ‘70s. “Dschungel Cruz” includes some funky syncopated rhythms behind Morse’s screaming leads while “Spanish Steppes” is an intricate, delicate composition, its rich tones and subdued instrumentation matched by D’Virgilio’s tasteful drumming and Morse’s Mediterranean-styled playing. The album-ending “Home” has a melancholy, almost wistful feel, with Alan’s layered guitar tracks creating a rustic vibe over the top of gentle percussion and Neal’s sparse mandolin work. In the end, the notes come tumbling down like rain, every lick shimmering through the speakers with a painfully beautiful sound. “Home” would be a great song to end a movie with, its instrumental grandeur shining as the credits roll. In this aspect, it reminds me a lot of Mark Knopfler’s soundtrack work for The Princess Bride.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
Alan Morse’s Four O’ Clock And Hysteria will naturally be embraced by the Spock’s faithful, as well as by prog-rock fans in general, but the album’s innovative instrumentals and Morse’s undeniable six-string talents would also hold strong appeal to any music lover that appreciates fine guitar playing. If you have yet to discover Alan Morse, Four O’ Clock and Hysteria is your entry drug of choice…be forewarned, though, because once you hear this stuff, you’ll be forced to jump into the Spock’s Beard discography. After that, who knows? (Inside Out Music, released 2007)
