Issue 2026-007

ENorm — It's Time

Edwin Roosjen

ENorm originates from the band Marathon who in 1994 released The First Run, a wonderful progressive rock album. After Marathon disband brothers Erik (vocals) and Ronald ten Bos (guitar/bass) started ENorm. They did that with the help of Martin Platenkamp (keyboard) and Ferry Bult (drums).

In 2016 I saw ENorm live and they blew me away. I was surprised I completely missed this band from home country. They played the Marathon album The First Run back to front and also songs from the albums they recorded as ENorm. The album Finding My way was released in 2012 and after the concert I went home with this album playing on my car radio. Their 2005 album Enonymous was out of print but it is now available via streaming services. These ENorm albums have a lot of influences from Rush. With an album title like Finding My Way the link to Rush is very clear. Ronald and Martin are also members of The Rushians, a Rush tribute band.

Now thirteen years later, ENorm still have some Rush influences in their music but not as much as before. The start of the album brings a new sound that surprised me a lot. The first five songs feature a lot of eighties' pop music. Halo and Life Hurts have some proggy influences and The Game reminds me a bof of the Hold Your Fire album from Rush. I was a bit surprised, as this was not what I expected.

For me the album really starts with The Picture. Erik ten Bos is a great vocalist and he surely shows that on The Picture. A mellow song he can be proud of, I like it. Then we have two songs named Alcatraz and we strangely start with the second and then number one. On Alcatraz II it is again back to the uptempo poppy song and this one reminds me of the band Kensington. Alcatraz I is almost a copy from the song A Forest from The Cure but with different lyrics. This choice emphasises my feelings that ENorm has taken a turn towards eighties music.

If you look at this album from a progressive rock point of view and expect to hear a Rush-like album then you might not have made it past the first five songs. You could miss something with the more interesting songs being in second half. The songs Don't Leave Me and Living A Long Live appeal to me more.

The uptempo song Don't Stop reminds me again of the Hold Your Fire album from Rush. Two Kids At Sunrise has a tune that sounds a lot like Clocks by Coldplay.

ENorm still has the Rush influences but on this album I hear more familiar tunes from popular bands. Also the choice for compact compositions could suggest ENorm is trying to be more mainstream. Just barely over four minutes in length, Two Kids At Sunrise is the longest song on this album.

With Hannover Autobahn it is back to the uptempo eighties sound of the beginning of the album. It's Time starts promising with a cappella vocals that reminds of Pompeii by Bastille. The song is transformed into a boogy wonderland and shaking all over the place. Still, ENorm succeeds in making this an interesting song even for progressive rock fans. The album ends with Time's Fading, a ballad with another very nice performance by vocalist Erik ten Bos.

Their new album It's Time is a good album bit it is a very difficult one to place. The First Run was a great progressive rock, lengthy songs and lengthy solos. The more compact album Finding My Way, with a lot of Rush elements, keeps finding a way to my ears. This latest album It's Time takes the compact songwriting a bit further. The band try to put a lot of familiar sounding elements in compact three-minute songs. You can still hear their roots being in the music of Rush, although less so than before. Some DPRP readers will find It's Time too poppy, but if you do, try some of ENorm's previous albums.

Róbert Erdész — Welcome to My Brain

Owen Davies

The silver-grey etched artwork breaks the dark. It's shadow lines sparkle in mono chrome splendour. The imagery startles and hints at a time beyond. I try to take it all in. I press play and immerse myself; I travel the albums fascinating journey. I taste and imbibe it's varied moods!

Reflective melodies, exciting flourishes; eyebrow-turning, mouth-gurning solos rise and fall. Dissonate effects clasp my imagination. Beautiful chords and disconcerting riffs elegantly flow, or burst forth, in equal measures. Clap-knee, click-toe rhythms support a raft of challenging vocal lines. Ferocious flute flurries, rise and peak to embellish the yowls of the guitar and the shifting tones of the synth. Subtle interludes, orchestral soundscapes, flute trilled climaxes and raucous six string crescendos are all dynamically captured by the vibrant sound quality of the recording.

The stunning breadth of the music portrays a kaleidoscope of instrumental colours. The exuberant performance of the players presents an air of spontaneity that belies the music's carefully woven underlying structure. The overall impact of Welcome To My Brain infiltrates and permeates the senses and offers a no holds barred multi-faceted experience that succeeds on so many different levels !

Welcome To My Brain became available at the end of 2025 and is the second solo album of Solaris' keyboard player Róbert Erdész. It features long time collaborators Attila Kollár (flute) and László Gömör (drums) who are current members of Solaris. They also worked with Erdész in bands and projects such as, Napoleon Boulevard and Cabaret.

Bass duties are taken by Balázs Szendőfi (Mind Flower, Solaris). At various points, violinist Edina Mókus Szirtes, drummer Gergő Gáspár and saxophonist Ferenc Muck also feature. The album also spotlights the talents of János Varga. The guitarist is probably best known for his work with East. His overall contribution to Welcome To My Brain is exceptional.

The expressive voice of Zsuzsa Ullmann is central to the albums signature sound. Her wordless vocals frequently take on the crucial role of an instrument in their own right. Her versatile range and outstanding delivery are a consistent highlight of the album and significantly add to its impact. Tamas Erdesz performs additional vocals.

The release coincides with the publication of a two-volume novel by Erdész. In the accompanying album notes Erdész explained the concept behind the project.

I started writing the music in 2003, shortly after I completed a short piece of writing, a sort of science fiction novella titled Welcome To My Mind. In it, we connect with the moment of execution of a death-row mass murderer. The world he lives in does not tolerate the death penalty. The intervention they perform on his mind is called personality alteration. Through a special neurological trip, they navigate through his memories, associating feelings with every aggressive event that prevents similar impulses from surfacing—while simultaneously opening pathways to hidden abilities that had been suppressed by the previous aspects of his personality.

The double CD is probably best heard as a continuous piece of music. Recurring themes evolve and drift in and out of several of the tunes. WTMB was originally written as a piano piece and elements of the original soundtrack underlie or come to the fore on numerous occasions. This ensures that the music has a melodic core and incorporates a number of musical hooks and memorably hummable interludes.

Consequently, WTMB is an album where foot tap accessibility and head swivel complexity all have a part to play. These disparate elements consistently etch themselves upon the listener, to create an unforgettable experience.

Superficially, the style of the music has much in common with Solaris. This is readily apparent in the fearsome interaction between the keys flute and guitar. In WTMB synth effects break up different sections of the music. This technique was similarly used to good effect in Erdész's third suite of Solaris' Martian Chronicles 111 release. On occasions, some of the keyboard and wind instrument effects deployed in Hope Whisper brought to mind Solaris' 1990 album. Slight hints that related to the atmosphere created by the Martian Chronicles album could be discerned in parts of the underlying piano melodies of Absurd Dance.

The extensive use of vocals provides a counterpoint and an emotional pull to the music that compliments the vibrant instrumental sections and, in this respect, Erdész's work with Ulmann in his Cabaret project is frequently brought to mind. At other points, WTMB presents the sort of atmospheric soundscapes that might appeal to Pink Floyd fans. There is even an almost quasi krautrock feel to some sections of Symphony of Disquetude.

However, world music influences can also be identified in tunes such as, Absurd Dance, Hope Whisper, and The Echoes of Anger and therefore, some stylistic similarities with Erdesz' Meeting Point album are apparent. Nevertheless, WTMB definitely has its own unique and distinctive assortment of flavours delivered by imaginative instrumental sections and stunning vocal embellishments that froth and bubble with admirable gusto.

The highlights of the album are undoubtedly Waves of Rage, Absurd Dance, Symphony of Disquetude ,Hope Whisper, and The Echoes of Anger. These pieces all have much to commend them and their duration ensures that melodies, riffs, and recognisable motifs are developed, and their possibilities explored.

Waves of Rage is characterised by a ferocious riff. It emerges unexpectedly and occurs again in altered form at various points of the album including, during Absurd Dance and The Echoes of Anger. The bombast and malevolence of the riff is extenuated by the way that it is introduced. It has that same sort of explosive impact as perhaps the instantly recognisable sequence of notes has in Jethro Tull's Aqualung, or possibly the crashing effect of the well-known four note opening motif Beethoven's 5th.

The startling riff in WTMB is one of a number of recurring themes which act as a sort of cyclical glue to hold the whole composition together and give it a sense of continuity and an ever-evolving air of familiarity.

Another example of this technique is the beautiful piano-led melody that is introduced in Absurd Dance and is afterwards fully expanded to have a significant role in The Echoes Of Anger. Similarly, lush orchestral textures occur at various points including, Waves of Dance, and Hope Whisper . This theme and mood is subsequently developed and has a significant role in War Devours Its Own. The regular use of identifiable and persisting themes drew comparisons with some aspects of the work of Mike Oldfield.

The contribution of Kollár is phenomenal in several tunes. The flute rock of Waves of Rage, Absurd Dance, Symphony of Disquetude and Hope Whisper is powerful and thrilling. Breathy primeval, spitefully trilled flourishes abound. I can honestly say that Kollár's performance in WTMB is undoubtedly one of the best examples of progressive flute rock I have heard.

It is that good!

Absurd Dance is probably my favourite track. It's packed with distinctive elements that make it irresistibly endearing. In this piece, Erdész blends a quirky, tongue-in-cheek yet subtly twisted vocal line with an irresistibly catchy rhythm. He factors in wailing guitar passages, buoyant bass lines, imaginative flute melodies, and sparkling keyboard textures, weaving them together with remarkable precision. Erdész curates this intricate mix and arranges it to perfection. Accordingly, everything fits seamlessly together. It is a wonderful piece.

Erdész 's performance in WTMB is simply excellent. I particularly enjoyed the way in which the texture of the music was altered by using the organ rather than the synth in a solo during the Symphony Of Disquetude. This offered a richly different set of colours to the overall palette of sounds.

It would be amiss not to mention, the outstanding contribution that Balázs Szendőfi makes to Hope Whisper and particularly to The Echoes of Anger. Hope Whisper utilises several majestic bass slides and the introductory section of The Echoes of Anger is driven by his punchy tone and dynamic use of rhythm.

I urge readers to check out this outstanding album. It is currently quite difficult to get hold of in some countries, but it can be purchased directly from the bands website.

If you like adventurous prog rock, I am sure that Welcome to my Brain will not disappoint.

All that is left to say is: "The shadow lined artwork sparkles and breaks the dark. It's silver-grey etchings call out in monochrome splendour. The imagery shocks and suggests a time beyond."

Once again, I try to take it all in. I immerse myself and travel the albums path. I discover new things and experience Welcome To my Brain's considerable emotive pull.

It is without doubt one of my favourite albums of 2025.

The Imperial Mustard — Turn The Stone

Jerry Kranitz

The Imperial Mustard are a German dual guitar, bass, drums, vocals quintet, and Turn The Stone is their second album. Or is it? Following a slightly different link on their Bandcamp page reveals several more albums and a history that dates back to 2011. When I inquired, bassist Carsten Eckermann explained that the original lineup released rough-mixed, made-on-the-spot-during-jam-session albums on Bandcamp, and sold homemade copies at shows but never promoted them and don't consider them actual releases. A post-pandemic tweak to the lineup and the resulting two albums benefitted from proper mixing from multi-track recordings. Consequently, they're keen to make a distinction from the original band.

The Imperial Mustard describe their current incarnation as “five souls who love The Velvet Underground, understand Captain Beefheart, trippin' to Can, freakin' out like Devo and get lost with Neil Young.” They don't actually sound like any of those bands/artists, though Neil Young's grunge is often in evidence. And a Can reference might be appropriate in the way Suse Michel seems to be chant-improvising lyrics, like a Damo Suzuki whose delivery is more important than words. The note that “all tracks are improvised and recorded on the spot as received from the universe” is interesting. The songs may have started as improvs, and they do have a loose jamming quality, while also accomplishing what sound like fairly structured songs.

The set opens with Black Sunday, an upbeat, funky psychedelic rocker. Michel's vocals remind me of The Pancakes' Daniela Neeff (also German), though Michel's voice has a soulful, smokey edge. The two guitars work nicely in tandem, with one keeping a rocking rhythmic pace as it moves along with the bass and drums, while the second cranks out blistering solos. I like the dirty, grinding guitar that sounds like a demon's growl plus tasty ripping solo on On The Line. Michel sounds like she's in anguish, as if fighting off the guitar attack. Turn The Stone is cool grooving and soulful, yet there's something simultaneously menacing about the music. I love how it alternates between beautifully space-atmospheric and intensely acid-drone. Michel sounds like a combination of sultry lounge singer and psychedelic chanteuse in the throes of a deeply spiritual experience.

The guitars on Hot Smoke have an old time west coast psychedelic feel, like a doomier version of The Doors. The nearly 12-minute Beautiful Day is pure exploratory acid-psychedelic jam rocking, with guitars soloing and tripping around in volcanic dreamland, as Michel pops in and out with her steamy repetitive “Beautiful Daaaaay”. I like the psychedelic funk and pulsating drone of Easy. Deep Down is one of the most purely rock and roll tracks of the set. It's another that has a west coast psych vibe, like Buffalo Springfield's Mr Soul but with Michel's vocals keeping the music firmly in Imperial Mustard territory. Orient V8 lays down a minimal droning yet rhythmic pulse that gets increasingly grungy and acid bubbly as the music progresses. And Goodbye is a bluesy, soulfully trippy song that wraps up the set.

In summary, this is a solid set. The balance of free-form jamming and composed sense of song is the band's strength. I'll have to explore their back catalogue, both previous album and original band.

Clive Nolan — The Mortal Light

Greg Cummins

Although I failed to give Clive Nolan's previous theatrical extravaganzas sufficient attention when they were originally released, I opted to review the latest incarnation to at least become reasonably familiar with Clive's formulae for these projects. I have since given both previous instalments of this trilogy, Alchemy and King's Ransom, a serious listen and can report, hand on heart, goblet raised, that this 4CD boxed set is not merely an adventurous album but a riotous, labyrinthine smorgasbord of entertainment, a sprawling adult pantomime that leers, winks, declaims, and occasionally soliloquises at you from the shadows. It is vaudeville with a knowing smirk; prog theatre with its boots kicked up on the table; a candlelit carnival where the music insists you stay for just one more scene and maybe another tankard or three of ale.

From the opening moments, The Mortal Light announces itself as a work of extravagant intent. Nolan has always had a fondness for the grandly conceptual with long-form narratives, whereby characters strut and fret upon the sonic stage. However, here he outdoes himself with a project that feels less like a linear story and more like a rambling, gaslit playhouse. The songs tumble forth like performers emerging from behind velvet curtains: some tragic, some buffoonish, some deliciously sinister but all united by a sense that the composer is enjoying himself immensely and is inviting us to do the same.

What truly elevates this set above Nolan's previous multi-disc endeavours is its sheer theatrical confidence. Earlier works of similar scale sometimes felt as though they were asking permission to be indulgent—apologising, almost, for their excess. The Mortal Light, by contrast, revels in it. This is music that knows it is absurd in the best possible way and therefore never flinches. Where previous installments in this trilogy occasionally sagged under the weight of their own lore, this one sashays forward with a feather boa of self-awareness, whispering, “Hark thee, this is meant to be fun.”

And fun it most assuredly is. Beneath the ornate keyboards, the choral flourishes and the intricate narrative skin, there lies a surprisingly tuneful heart. Several songs lodge themselves in the brain with consummate ease, strutting about long after the discs have stopped spinning. There are choruses here that feel designed to be belted out by a roomful of grinning conspirators, tankards aloft. Even amidst the operatic bombast, Nolan never forgets the ancient and noble art of the hook—aye, that most beguiling of musical devices.

The vaudevillian aspect of The Mortal Light is key to its success. This is not solemn prog, gazing dourly at its own reflection. This is music that grins through its greasepaint, that understands the power of caricature and exaggeration. Characters feel deliberately larger than life, like figures from a slightly wicked morality play, reminding me at times of an adult's pantomime—complete with double entendres, theatrical asides and the faint sense that something deliciously improper is happening just offstage. One half expects a knowing cry of “Oh no it isn't!” to echo from the back of the mix.

Musically, the palette is gloriously rich. Nolan's keyboards dominate, of course but they do so with variety and purpose: from stately, churchly passages that sound as though they were penned by candlelight, to playful motifs that prance about like court jesters. The arrangements are dense without being claustrophobic, intricate without descending into mere noodling. This is craftsmanship with a twinkle in its eye. The songs are so damned accessible, some more so than the others but by and large, this adventurous smorgasbord of sonic indulgence will have you singing and tapping along in no time at all. Obviously with a project so large, the accompanying musicians and vocalists required to fulfill all the roles number in the billions, well almost.

Yet, despite the size of the ensemble of singers and choristers, the number of other musicians in attendance total only a meagre 4, being, Clive Nolan (keyboards, percussion, orchestration, chorus), Scott Higham (drums), Arnfinn Isaksen (bass) and Mirko Sangrigoli (guitar). Some of the better known male vocalists include Damian Wilson, Lee Abraham, Pete Jones, John Mitchell, Nick Barrett and others that may be less known to the majority of readers.

Compared to earlier long-form projects in this format, The Mortal Light feels better paced, better balanced and more magnanimous to the listener. There is an overt degree of generosity with this offering inasmuch that I sense that Nolan is not merely telling his story but throwing a party and insisting you partake. Although the main part of the project is spread over 2 music CDs, the other bonus discs merely add to the appeal and round out a very compelling package.

As for who this album will appeal to: devotees of symphonic and theatrical prog will find much to treasure here, as will those who enjoy concept albums that lean into character, narrative and unapologetic spectacle. Fans of Nolan's earlier work will recognise familiar strengths but may be pleasantly startled by how unbuttoned and mischievous this project feels. Even listeners who normally shy away from sprawling box sets may find themselves won over by the sheer personality radiating from every note.

In short, The Mortal Light is a bold, boisterous, and brilliant achievement—an album that refuses to behave, refuses to be modest, and refuses to bore. It is a reminder that progressive music need not be poker-faced to be profound, nor restrained to be meaningful. Long may such glorious excess reign. Now prithee, fetch me the box again — I feel another listen coming on.

Pareidolon — The Unattainable Shore

Ignacio Bernaola

Pareidolon are still not a very well known band in the progressive rock scene (and I'm afraid that won't change in the short term), but they have been moving forward slowly and with clear intention. We reviewed their debut album at DPRP some years ago. At that time, we mentioned that the band had good ideas and ambition, but the album sometimes felt uneven and not fully focused.

With The Unattainable Shore, it is clear that they have improved in that sense. This album is based on atmosphere, long songs, and slow development. It does not try to impress with speed or technical tricks. Instead, it keeps a calm and controlled mood from start to finish. Because of that, I think it is better to listen to this record without thinking too much about references or similar bands. It works better if you just listen and make your own opinion.

It may seem like I'm skipping references simply because I can't think of the right ones, and that's not entirely wrong.

The central piece of the album is Voie Aérienne, a 24-minute track and, for me, the best moment here. This song shows the band at their strongest. It grows slowly, but it keeps your attention with small changes and a clear sense of direction. Compared to the debut album, this track feels much more confident and better structured. It really feels like the band trusts their ideas now. This song alone adds a lot of value to the album.

In general, the instrumental work is very good. The band sounds more mature and more controlled than in their debut album. Still, outside the main track, the album can feel a bit too similar at times. The flow is smooth, but some parts stay in the same mood for too long, and that can make the listening experience feel slightly monotonous.

Vocals are my main issue and we also mentioned that a few years ago. They are fine and fit the music, but they lack variety. I missed more changes in tone or emotion, especially in such long songs. I can barely hear some harsh vocales in the Voire Aérienne and some spoken words that add some atmospheres but I think that more vocal contrast could have made the album more engaging.

The album includes guest musicians like Derek Sherinian and Baard Kolstad in a couple of songs, but their presence is not very obvious. Their contributions are well integrated, but they do not stand out much while listening, or at least I don't recognise them well. Overall, The Unattainable Shore is a good album and a clear improvement over the debut. It did not fully move me emotionally, but it shows that Pareidolon are growing as a band and are worth following in the future.

RVH Project — Land Of The Damned

Jan Buddenberg

Sometime in 2020, Rick van Heuzen (bass, lead and backing vocals) set out to record a solo album. Composing various songs, this idea was eventually abandoned and the idea grew into starting a band project. Joined by Gerry de Graaf (drums) and Orion Roos (guitar, vocals), the resulting debut Enter The Machine — which offered a melodic mixture of metal, hard rock, funk, pop, and rock — was released in April of 2022. And now, supported by Hans Voerman (keyboards), Martin Verdonk (percussion) and a small list of guest performers, RVH Project return with Land Of The Damned.

Getting straight to the heart of the matter; for those about to rock, this second album convincingly consolidates RVH Project's entertaining amalgamation of (heavy) melodic hard-rock with a funky-pop twist. Except for perhaps Heads Are Gonna Roll (Judgement Day), an energetic heavy-metal composition crafted with thriving rhythms and catchy hooks, a generous salute to prog this album is not. For approximately 80 to 90%, RVH Project explore a style that foremost envisions 70s and 80s melodic (hard) rock in which a fusion of genre-defying sidesteps provides the element of surprising "progressive" nostalgia.

A joyously fun and swinging example of this is album closer Dance. A danceable composition where for some reason Glenn Hughes, Rubicon and Automatic Man all come to mind thanks to a combination of groovy dynamics and funky melodies, laced with disco elements lifted straight out of the 70s. This level of contagiousness is even surpassed in the slow brooding, groovalicious Inject The Venom, which is like a funky Johnny Guitar Watson meets Les Dudek.

The addictive boogie of Voices evokes similar memories of Dudek. A solid rhythmic foundation together with soaring guitar playing in spirit of Frank Marino takes compelling care of business. The straight-forward rock of Coming Home boosts with refreshing recollections of ZZTop, Bachman Turner Overdrive, and Kashmir. Kashmir in this case referring to the Spanish rockers whose eclectic approach flies into view for a second time in the catchy formulated AOR of The First Time, which feature John "Jaycee" Cuijpers (Ayreon, Praying Mantis) on vocals and Bauke van der Laaken on keyboards.

Adding a splash of pure rock are Butterfly and the short and sweet Marilyn's Here. Heavy melodic rock, fiery organ play, and powerful Dio-esque vocals from Cuijpers stirs up a tasty Rainbow cocktail in honour of Ms. Monroe.

There's two tracks particularly stand out for me. The first of these tracks is Land Of The Damned, which rocks hard with heavy metal tendencies/ Flourishing melodies frequently envision 80s Blue Öyster Cult. The second is Open Your Eyes. A diversified composition that initially soothes the soul with bluesy licks before it awakens the senses with memories of Flight during a playful synth-driven bridge until finally tight riffs and melodic guitar play supported by percussion etches an image of Santana onto one's retina.

All of the above demonstrates that, next to solid songwriting and strong performances, RVH Project's Land Of The Damned bursts with variety. This diversity not only ensures that proceedings are kept interesting and captivating throughout. It ultimately makes the album a joy to listen to from start to finish. Or random if that tickles your fancy. Land Of The Damned is a highly entertaining album that will especially appeal to those in favour of melodic rock from the 70s and 80s. Feel free to check this recommendable album out, for it sure has the strength to satisfyingly surprise many a prog fan.