Showing posts with label Marillion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marillion. Show all posts

CD Review: Marillion – A Sunday Night Above the Rain

CD Review: Marillion – A Sunday Night Above the Rain
earMusic/Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: A-

Marillion - A Sunday Night
Above the Rain 2014
An invasion of sorts took place on March 10, 2013, although it wasn't exactly an advancing horde of barbarians.

It was Marillion Weekend in Port Zelande, the Netherlands, and fans of the long-running progressive-rock collective from all over the world converged on Center Parcs to celebrate a group that's made thought-provoking and challenging, yet thoroughly accessible and soulful, music for the last 35 years.

2012's Sounds That Can't Be Made, Marillion's last record, was all of that and then some, managing to sound stylish and exotic, but also dissonant and angry in places. On this particular occasion, recorded for the exhilarating and emotionally resonant new two-disc live album A Sunday Night Above the Rain, Marillion threw every song from that album into the set for the first time, and simply stunning renditions of "Invisible Ink," "Montreal," "The Sky Above the Rain" and the title track are treated with a heightened sense of drama that is palpable, taking the band's flair for dramatic instrumentation – especially those wonderfully expressive keyboards, Steve Hogarth's heartfelt vocals and soaring guitars, courtesy of Steve Rothery – to a whole new level.

Perhaps somewhat dangerously, Marillion opens with "Gaza," a nearly 20-minute, and presciently topical considering the news of the day, epic full of passages of aching beauty that run smack into disorienting explosions of noise, growing and expanding into something even more grandiose and profound than the original. And yet the pristine, well-rounded sound of A Sunday Night Above the Rains does more to enhance and complement the sublime melodic complexities and diverse arrangements of fan favorites "Waiting to Happen," "Neverland," a synth-powered "Garden Party" and "This Strange Engine" than anything else, the crowd happily clapping and singing along in perfect unison. If Sunday is, indeed, supposed to be a day of worship, consider this concert recording a wondrous cathedral with services conducted whenever the listener chooses and sermons guaranteed to touch hearts, minds and souls. http://www.ear-music.net/en/label/ http://www.eagle-rock.com/
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Marillion – Sounds That Can't Be Made Special Edition

CD Review: Marillion – Sounds That Can't Be Made Special Edition
Eagle Rock Entertainment/earMusic
All Access Rating: A

Marillion - Sounds That Can't Be Made
Special Edition 2014
Marillion did its homework for "Gaza," the 17-minute epic opener to 2012's Sounds That Can't Be Made. Unafraid to tackle an issue as thorny as that of the Israeli occupation of the Gaza Strip, these old neo-progressives with their heads in the clouds got their hands dirty with this one.

Attempting to separate truth from fiction, they talked to everyone involved, from aid workers and actual refugees who live there to Israelis who are sick of the fighting, before penning their heartrending and nuanced musical tale of a boy growing up amid violence and poverty.

Alternating between moments of quiet beauty and scenes of unbearable tension and fear, "Gaza," introduced by the ominous sound of a helicopter in the distance, is quite possibly the crowning achievement of Marillion's post-Fish era. Exotic, sublime melodies and passages of calm are abruptly interrupted by exploding bombs of angry discord and noise, as Marillion illustrates the bleak hardships of life in the war-torn region. After such a cinematic tour de force, the rest of Sounds That Can't Be Made seems somewhat less ambitious in comparison, but how could it not?

Given that it couldn't possibly match the high drama and emotional weight of "Gaza," the rest of Sounds That Can't Be Made strives for more soulful and resonant expression on songs such as the stylish "Pour My Love," a watery "Power" that turns radiant, and, awash in strings, the soaring "The Sky Above the Rain," not to mention the gorgeously rendered title track, with its blissful pop sentiments and airy synthesizers. Richly appointed, with lush piano, mature lyrics, earnest vocals and clever guitar parts, this is Marillion leaving bombast and inscrutable artiness behind to moonlight in a dimly lit jazz club, winning over prog-rock purists with their well-crafted melodies, lush tones and understated dynamics. It's a stunning about-face for Marillion, and one that's deeply affecting.

Those comparisons to Genesis that have always followed Marillion make less sense these days, especially when taking account of the six bonus tracks padding this Special Edition of Sounds That Can't Be Made – mostly different versions of songs off the original record. Radio sessions for "Wrapped Up in Time," "Power" and "Pour My Love" are stark and intimate readings, comprised almost entirely of just piano and vocals – with just a touch of electric guitar occasionally emerging – and even more gripping than the originals.

The demo arrangement of "Lucky Man" is quiet and gentle, betraying a gospel influence but barely registering a pulse and taking far too long to gain momentum, while a life-affirming concert version of "Sounds That Can't Be Made" grows more expansive and hits all the right emotional notes, as does Marillion blindingly radiant live take on "Invisible Ink." Coldplay should be taking notes.

Although Marillion has always been able to conjure up a vast array of sounds that can be made, rarely have those pieces coalesced into such lustrous, and wholly accessible, shapes, evolving ever so slightly and building into more magnificent structures. This edition is truly special. http://www.eagle-rock.com/http://www.ear-music.net/en/news/
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Marillion - Sounds That Can't Be Made


CD Review: Marillion - Sounds That Can’t Be Made
Eagle Rock Entertainment/earMusic (Edel)
All Access Review: A-
Marillion - Sounds That Can't Be Made 2012
Trapped in a war-torn land with little reason to expect a lasting peace anytime soon, the people of Gaza have endured unimaginable tragedy and hardship, and a song – no matter how idealistic – isn’t likely to change their horrible circumstances. Having seen up close what they’ve been through in visits to refugee camps in the region and talking to those hardest hit by the violence on both sides, Steve Hogarth has responded by writing a provocative and moving testimonial of their plight in “Gaza,” the widescreen, richly textured opener to Marillion’s lushly melodic and deeply soulful 17th album, Sounds That Can’t Be Made. He figures to get an earful from Israeli sympathizers, no matter how noble his intentions.
Attempting to head off a vitriolic sand storm of criticism that’s sure to come his way, Hogarth writes a disclaimer in the liner notes to the LP, stating, “It was not my/our intention to smear the Jewish faith or people,” and adding “ … nothing here is intended to show sympathy for acts of violence, whatever the motivation.” Motivated purely by a desire for a resolution that will halt the senseless cycles of destruction and devastation in the region, Hogarth doesn’t assign blame in “Gaza,” even if militaristic elements may find the “Gaza” lyric “ … peace won’t come from standing on our necks” a direct attack on their policies of aggression. Ultimately, though, “Gaza” is really a distress call, ending with the jarring plea, “someday someone must surely help us …” Nobody is sending the cavalry just yet.
Overshadowing all that comes after it, the 17:30 “Gaza” perfectly captures – in exquisitely descriptive language – the mystery, the desperate mood and the bruised spirit of a place Westerners know so little about. In an attempt to demystify this part of the world and its conflicts, “Gaza” speaks in relatable and personal terms of lost innocence and quiet resignation, while also talking of death and destruction on both a massive and intimate level. Reminiscent of Genesis, though more global in its thinking, “Gaza” is art rock spread across a massive canvas and painted in sumptuous colors. This labyrinthine citadel of angry dissonance and menacing danger, of exotic Middle Eastern sounds and luxurious production, and undying optimism is not only ambitious in scope, but it’s also purposeful and full of humanity, its myriad perspectives and tense scenes expressed in movements as different from one another as the fighting factions themselves.
Where outbursts of noisy, scratching guitar shatter any sense of calm, passages of breathtaking beauty are sure to follow, as marching, indignant declarations of crimes against humanity are transformed by sweeping strings and piano as lonely as a lost Bedouin tribe, as beautiful supplications are carried on hopeful synthesizers and flights of Steve Rothary’s finessed guitar soar into the cool desert night amid somber reflections. And it’s all interconnected in a puzzle-like arrangement that defies logic. Maybe it won’t affect policy, but “Gaza” does give voice – and an eloquent one at that – to the fearful and the scarred, who often suffer in silence as bombs drown out their pleas for an end to war. At the very least, Hogarth is sincerely affected by the situation and doing his part to rectify it.
If the stylish Sounds That Can’t Be Made, one of the warmest and most inviting records of their career, ended then and there, Marillion could walk away satisfied, but the band that spearheaded the neo-progressive movement in the U.K. in the early 1980s is only just beginning its journey. Next stop, the realm of British dream pop, inhabited by the likes of Elbow and Doves, who have clearly influenced the direction of the incandescent, life-affirming title track, the touching closer “The Sky Above the Rain” and the majestic “Power.” Intoxicatingly soulful and jazzy, “Pour My Love” is a sophisticated snifter of sonic brandy that should be savored, while the travelogue “Montreal,” a meditation on distance, and all its clever little melodic twists is 13:58 of nostalgic longing, exhaustion and ennui. All of it, however, pales in comparison to the truly affecting and uplifting “Invisible Ink,” with its radiant flash pot of a chorus and its twinkling melody – it’s as lovely a song as Marillion have ever constructed, even if it does fly a bit too closely to the sun of Doves' "Pounding."
So, as Fish does his thing, his former band slips ever so gently into a phase of life diagnosed as “adult contemporary,” and Sounds That Can’t Be Made is a remarkably quiet, subdued affair, with the exception of “Gaza” and its brief eruptions of King Crimson heaviness and harsh thrashing. Don’t make the mistake, though, of thinking that Marillion has lost the ability to keep things interesting. With their hearts in the right place and their collective intellect as curious and impassioned as ever, Marillion will keep hunting for those sounds that allegedly cannot be made, and someday they may just find them.

-            Peter Lindblad

* For more on how to help Palestinian children, visit www.hopingfoundation.org.