Issue 2025-074

Duo Review

Big Big Train — Woodcut

Greg Cummins

Big Big Train have always caused me quite a bit of grief over the years but not in the manner you might have expected. My issue with the band's music is that I often have a hard time deciding which of their albums to pull off the shelf. With over two dozen studio, live and EP releases in the collection, this often sees me fighting with myself to make a decision before I give up and head off to bed. As you'd expect, this is a band that I really like so naturally it was a no-brainer for me to volunteer to take this title from our pipeline and give it some serious headphone time. As the music on this album is not overwhelmed with any really aggressive sections or pieces that require the skip button, you can rest assured it delivers a captivating sonic journey that is well worth the effort, particularly with a decent beverage or three of choice.

The strongest moments on the album are the ones that let the songs breathe. The longer, story-driven tracks unfold slowly, revealing subtle shifts in harmony and mood. These pieces recall the pastoral side of Genesis (circa Wind & Wuthering), with occasional flashes of early Marillion's emotional directness—though without the eyeliner or existential panic. Some of the shorter songs lean into a more reflective, almost folk-rock sensibility, hinting at Fairport Convention by way of a prog band that owns more tweed jackets than capes.

With a plaintiff opening piece featuring violins and trumpet, there is little to this short track that gives any indication as to what is about to follow. But what follows is one of the best attempts at clever song smithing I have heard all year. This album will definitely feature in my top 10 even though it's ultimate release isn't slated until 2026.

Featuring 16 very diverse songs that total almost 70 minutes in duration, the listener will be well treated to a smorgasbord of intricacy, emotion and melodicism that is often in short supply these days with other band's music. Whether you can hook into the alluring slap bass that permeates right throughout The Artist or the melodic lyricism that follows, this is a great song to really get things into overdrive.

The Sharpest Blade is where the band introduce some whimsical, almost folkish elements and which features Claire Lindley singing in her best style, This has a great melody and will have you singing along in no time.

Albion Press rocks out a bit harder than the previous song and is escorted throughout with some acerbic guitar licks here and there while Arcadia introduces some flute embellishments to add some contrast. Warp & Weft marries some Yes-styled guitar flourishes, courtesy of Steve Howe's telltale style) along with some quirky Gentle Giant arrangements in the vocal department and surprise, surprise, it works really well.

Chimaera is a slightly softer piece and as with some of the earlier songs, features some captivating vocal harmonies that really lift this song to the top of the pile. Talk about emotive power and pull!

The remaining tracks are all beautifully constructed and feature a smorgasbord of vocal adornment I often find missing on other albums. The vocals on this release are definitely one of the album's high points so if you are familiar with Big Big Train's earlier work, you'll be in fine company here.

There's a particular pleasure in hearing a band that understands space. On Woodcut, Big Big Train don't rush their ideas or pile them up in a prog-rock traffic jam. Instead, they let phrases linger, chords resolve slowly and melodies stretch their legs like they've got nowhere else to be. The result is an album that doesn't just play — it inhales and exhales. From the outset, the music announces its intent with a confidence that's more chamber-prog than stadium bombast. Chords bloom rather than crash and the arrangements feel hand-stitched rather than mass-produced. You'll hear extended harmonies, gentle key changes and a rhythmic elasticity that keeps the songs alive without ever turning them into maths exercises. It's also an album that features some captivating synth work all back-stopped by a myriad of accessible melodically structured gems that other bands would feel proud to deliver..

Big Big Train have always been melodists at heart, and Woodcut doubles down on that strength. The hooks here aren't shouted choruses but long, unfolding melodic excursions — the kind that lodge themselves in your head only after the second or third listen, although I must confess to needing a few more spins to let everything really sink in.

There's a maturity here that comes from decades of songwriting: an understanding that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is not play. When the band finally opens the throttle — with stacked vocals, rising modulations and a full ensemble swell — the payoff feels enormous because it's been so patiently prepared. Woodcut is tailor-made for listeners who enjoy progressive music as storytelling, where harmony and arrangement carry as much narrative weight as lyrics. It's also a fine listen for anyone who appreciates musicianship that serves emotion, not ego. This is prog rock with its sleeves rolled up, sawdust on the floor and a warm glow coming from the workshop.

In the end, Woodcut doesn't try to dazzle you with fireworks. Instead, it draws you in with craft, colour and compositional confidence. It's an album that reveals its finest details gradually — a passing chord, a rhythmic pivot, a melody that quietly reshapes itself. Like a well-made instrument, it sounds better the longer you play it. Needless to say, you need this album as a stocking stuffer irrespective of whether you've been good or bad this year. I won't judge!

Go fetch.

Coarbegh — A Sense Of Place

Jan Buddenberg

Next to their involvement in Poor Genetic Material, with whom they recently released Pastoral, Philipp Jaehne (keyboards, programming) and Pia Darmstaedter (flute, percussion, voice) issue their joint efforts under the Coarbegh banner.

Over the past six years, this collaboration has resulted in two lovely releases that smoothly plunge listeners into a relaxing pool of refreshing ambient soundscapes sculpted with enchanting flute and vast oceans of electronics that frequently recall the sophisticated finesse of Tangerine Dream, Vangelis, Eternity and Klangwelt. Featuring PGM members Stefan Glomb (guitar on Fragments Of Light) and Dominik Steinbacher, providing percussion on Only You Can Write The Next Page, their fourth album A Sense Of Place adds a beautiful experience of cinematic displacement.

Coarbegh's music is often inspired by places that evoke a deep sense of connection. This is especially evident in Where It All Began, a track that transports listeners to a serene countryside—much like the album's cover art—through delicate flute melodies. The combination of futuristic electronic sequences, calming piano, and the majestic monolith depicted in the artwork evokes the timeless grandeur of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, a film that, for sci-fi fans, marks the beginning of it all.

The conveyed experience doesn't fully concur with the individual image that accompanies this specific composition in the downloadable booklet. But apart from the blank canvas that escorts Only You Can Write The Next Page (gliding with lovely synth sequences and elegant flute), every evocative picture depicted is perfectly corresponding and complementary to the nature of the respective composition.

The Secret Nature Of Now gives way to droning sounds enlivened by flute. Together with a timeless rotation of harmonious sequences and ambient melodies soothingly, this visualises the partnered city skyline as if viewed from a helicopter perspective. Fleeting Light, Fleeting Time yields befitting transitory impressions of a passing morning thanks to intricate piano melodies and grounding bass and flute. And Memory Garden brings a beautifully serene symbiotic field of multi-layered EM and enchanting flute that starts to blossom with the cleansing calmness of nature.

I could go on for the other tracks included. But essentially every composition included on A Sense Of Place offers and / or creates a delightful dreamy, often cinematic sentiment. In the process, it successfully alleviates and opens the mind for an alluring time of contemplative reflection and unhurried relief. In conclusion: attractively flowing from the beginning to the end, this fourth album by Coarbegh speaks firmly to the imagination again. And comes well recommended for anyone who enjoys the transporting power of modern electronic music that glistens with a calming ambient heart.

The Cry — The Lost Tapes

Martin Burns

In 2022 the Snowdrops duo of Christine Ott and Mathieu Gabry joined with percussionist Pierre-Loïc Le Bliguet to form The Cry and released their self-titled debut album. Now this follow up-EP The Lost Tapes has been released.

The Cry are a keyboard-centred trio with Ott and Gabry switching between Ondes Martenot, effects, piano, Roland Juno-6, Korg MS2000, Clavia Nord Stage with Le Bliguet's elusive drums and percussion ever present. Crossing One is a variation on Crossing from the Snowdrops' album Singing Stones at less that half the length of that magnificent original track. The new version takes the melodies and restructures them into a new whole, working on its own terms. Introduced by a slowly rising organ sound bringing in the sliding, ethereal Ondes, percussion taps and piano exploring tender melodies that rise and fall as Le Bliguet rolls across the drums. A great opener.

The trio then tackle another cover Golden Valley from Ott's 2023 solo album Éclats (Piano Works). On new this version the sweeping piano melody is joined by evocative synth with drums coming to the fore as the melody becomes more forceful. The music ebbs and flows in a graceful arc.

This is followed by two improvised pieces. Oslo is led by Gabry's jazzy piano motif and delicate brushed cymbal and snare work as the Ondes weaves its magic above. This short work is followed by Epiphanie a narcotic, mesmerizing trip through a mood-altering landscape of Ondes swirls, synth, synth bass, fx as it develops an unforced motorik beat. Both of these tracks show how improvised music should and can work.

For a four track EP, The Cry's The Lost Tapes is a terrific work. I'm so glad they are no longer lost.

Përl — Architecture Du Vertige

Calum Gibson

Back in 2008, a group of friends got together and pooled their talents and love of post-metal together to form Përl. Together, they drew on a shared appreciation for the style of art known as chiaroscuro – the contrast between light and dark. Now on album 4, the group have plenty of experience behind them.

From the opening notes of Au royaume des songes, we are treated to a mastery of style. Dark textures set a foundation of apprehension, while the gentle vocal work is both enticing and foreboding. This contrast is explored further when the music turns into a violent passage of screamed anguish, before falling back to the softer melancholic sounds.

The third number on the album is an unexpected delight. Titled Fjara, it is a cover of Sólstafir's biggest hit, but translated from their native Icelandic into Përl's mother tongue of French. This translation adds a subtle new layer to the track, which, coupled with the darker tone exhibited by Përl, and the addition of a saxophone solo as well as an extra verse, creates a superb cover – exhibiting both tribute to the original, and their own unique touch.

Momentum is lost a bit with the arrival of Archipelago which takes some time to get going and feels slightly disjointed at parts, but still presents an interesting and thought-provoking structure. And while the closing numbers don't quite back the same contrast of dark and light as the initial ones, they still showcase a talent for musical craftmanship, with passion and emotion tightly woven together in explosions of rage and aggression, but melded with ethereal melodies and somber bridges.

The album is a find craft of high energy and high emotional post-metal that takes you from brooding lows to soaring highs and everywhere in between.

A must for fans of Sólstafir, Enslaved, Deafheaven and Svalbard.

Sindar — Tower of the Sun

Calum Gibson

If, like me, you are a fan of J.R.R Tolkien, you may well recognise the name Sindar. Taken from name of the elves who inhabited Beleriand in the early days of Middle Earth (and if you're unsure exactly which elves they are – Legolas is one of them), the duo makes music partially inspired by Tolkien's great works. This latest album, Tower of the Sun (taking its name from Minas Anor — later known as Minas Tirith — with Anor being the Sindarin word for Sun), is their second album, and was mixed by the legendary Dan Swanö. So, I have high hopes for this.

This inspiration is clear throughout. Images of vast rolling hills, ancient sites of long forgotten battles, mountainous regions with snow covered peaks and bands of adventurers traversing the land are formed. Hints of black metal are raised up between sections of atmospheric folk, all backed by melodic soundscapes to stir the imagination.

The album takes ideas from a lot of areas and channels it into some outstanding songwriting. Guitar riffs heavy enough to give an Olog Hai pause are deftly built along side more folky passages that would be right at home in the Green Dragon or Prancing Pony. Harsh growls, fit be sung by Melkor themself rumble across the Opeth style fretwork in contrast to the Elven cleans that help soften the blows from this crushing sonic attack.

Chuggy, post/gaze type passages feature prominently along with the more eerie melodies from the synths, as do blackened progressions and full-bodied rhythms. But it isn't all crushing metal - The Ranger for example combines this aggression with 70s prog sensibilities and soundscapes. It recalls the earlier days of Opeth, such as the Still Life era, as well as similar bands like Summoning - But more in tune with good production values and prog structures, rather than straight-up atmospheric black metal.

For me, this album works and works well. Any fan of Opeth, Summoning, or a love of both the early days of prog, and black/death metal, should find some comfort with Sindar and their blend of fantastical story telling and extreme prog.

Singlelito — Non-Consciousness

Owen Davies

What more could you want than heartfelt lyrics and a Canterbury vibe?

On the face of it that seems an attractive proposition and there are many things to commend this release by Singlelito. However, the angst ridden, grief affected lyrics and quirky vocal delivery are arguably an uncomfortable experience. On many occasions, they detract from the impressive instrumental sections of the album.

Singlelito (Juan Pinto) is a multi-instrumentalist from Colombia. He wrote the album when he was just eighteen years old in 2024. In his sleeve notes he indicates that his primary interest is in creating instrumental music. However, he was moved by a series of emotionally devasting events to write music with lyrics. He describes Non-Consciousness as a personal musical journey through grief, because of several traumatic events.

Notwithstanding some reservations about the Singlelito's vocal style and delivery of the emotive lyrics, the music is for the most part very impressive. The compositions and their intricate arrangements overflow with nods to artists such as Egg and National Health.

The opening piece with its Egg like 'growing my hair' vocal delivery is a fine way to start the album and sets the tone and scene for what is to follow. The fuzz bass part and interesting changes of pace and direction, only help to serve to emphasise the tunes qualities and authentically sounding, Canterbury styled credentials.

I particularly enjoyed Oral Auto-Expression. It's easy on the ear nature was an interesting contrast to And Sometimes... You're So Awful which was a tad too chaotic for my taste. Although its instrumental break which limb splashes in all directions in the first half of the tune was quite enthralling.

My favourite piece on the album is Cacophony In Zé Major. It is characterised by some interesting rhythms and the way in which the tune begins channels National Health. Later, stop start sections create an air of tension. These are skillfully resolved.

The best instrumental sections of the album are to be found during, A Lullaby For You, But You Didn't Sleep. Its long duration allows many different ideas to develop. There is a wonderfully enchanting passage that comes to the fore after four minutes. It was one of the few occasions when i felt the music came into its own, rather than being a means to deliver the sometimes overly busy lyrics.

The organ work throughout the release is fantastic and will appeal to admirers of Mike Ratledge and Dave Stewart. Similarly, the distorted guitar tones that feature in several tunes, will appeal to Phil Miller fans.

The album has an enviable rawness and presents an emotive package. It is Sometimes gentle, sometimes aggressive, sometimes confessional, but is always earnest and sincere.

Did I enjoy it? Yes and no.
Would I recommend it? Yes!

Non-Consciousness marks the beginning of Singlelito' s artistic journey. In that context, it is an important work.

What more could you want?