Issue 2025-052

Ambient Den — Ambient Den

Edwin Roosjen

Ambient Den is the new progressive rock collaboration from Australia with Ben Craven, Tim Bennets and Dean Povey. A spontaneous creation originating from the lockdown periods. I know multi-instrumentalist Ben Craven from his album Monsters From The Id. He also created some other interesting releases like Great & Terrible Potions and [Last Chance To Hear] (/reviews/2016/044#craven). Ambient Den is completed with drummer Dean Povey and keyboard player Tim Bennets from the band Seven Day Mask. Fun fact, the band name Ambient Den is an anagram of the names Tim, Ben and Dean.

The music of Ambient Den is in the symphonic prog style. I hear a lot of Ben Craven, but the music on this album is a mixture of the three members. Just like on Monsters From The Id, I hear influences from Pink Floyd, Nolan/Wakeman, Marillion and Steve Hackett.

Instrumental intro Future History Part 1 brings me back to the 1980s neo-prog sound. The first song that really shows what this band is about is For All Mankind. Ambient Den is not all Ben Craven, but For All Mankind sounds a lot like Die Before You Wake (from Craven's album Monsters From The Id), easily noticeable if you listen to the Single Edit edition of that song.

That is also a thing on this Ambient Den release. At the end of the album it features four edited versions of longer songs. Personally, I think it is nice to hear the main features captured in a shorter song, but each has their own judgement if these extra edited songs are a welcome addition or not.

On Provenance the neo-prog style continues. An instrumental track with a lot of melodic guitar solos. Earthrise is great, with its slow pace and an earworm of a chorus. At the centre is a piano part with acoustic guitar soloing, a combination that I personally like very much and it works very well here. The second part of the song is heavier and more intense.

Terraforming is over 16 minutes long, with more piano and acoustic guitar — love it. The fuller sound later on is made by several added layers of keyboards. Although mostly instrumental, the second part has some chanting voices that remind me a lot of Pink Floyd. The last part has the keyboards more upfront with some great melodic guitar solos.

I was expecting a nice mellow ambient instrumental outro with Future History Part 2 resembling part 1, but it is completely different. This one is swinging all over the place. I was not expecting that! For a progressive rock album it's an odd one to close, but it sure does work.

Ambient Den is a good addition to the world of progressive rock. I for sure hope that this is not a one-album project.

Doracor — Unexpected Intersections

Martin Burns

Doracor's new release, Unexpected Intersections, is an album of not quite two halves (apologies for using a football cliché). The first half sees keyboardist Corrado Sardella doing what a majority if Italian players of the ivories do and produce high-quality symphonic prog. Symphonic prog with the shadows of Genesis, Camel, etc. lurking in its 70s retro feel.

The opening two tracks and the the closing two tracks demonstrate this well and are exemplary modern examples of that style. On Remnants Of Memories you have a gentle opening that moves in to keyboard-led prog with able support from a number of guests (a list is on the Bandcamp page) giving the melody power and delicacy, as well as having a rocking guitar solo and a similar synth solo.

A number of singers are credited in the press release but not which ones on which tracks. The female vocals, heavily used across the album, are fine if a little non-descript. At the other end of the album, the ten-part title track, does much the same thing with added choral highlights and is similarly worth a listen.

Doracor sets up the promise of a symphonic prog fest with the opener but then singularly fails to really deliver anything of a similar quality until the final tracks.

In between you get a series of increasingly bland but tuneful AOR style melodies that are let down by predictable and dull arrangements. Some tracks have nice atmospheric and instrumental touches. A couple of ballads are pretty but insubstantial.

The album reaches its nadir with Distant Lights (You Can't Forget)'s faux soul and with sax that makes Kenny G seem cutting edge. For me the album never really recovers from this. Proceeding on it moves from one bland track to the next. Unfortunately, four tracks out of fifteen do not make for an engaging listen. Approach with caution.

Duo Review

Green Carnation — A Dark Poem, Part I: The Shores of Melancholia

Andy Read

More than 20 years ago, the third album from Norway's Green Carnation, A Blessing In Disguise, was one of my first-ever DPRP reviews. A few months previously, I had been heartily impressed by the band's set at the ProgPower Europe Festival. I've since followed their career closely.

Their 60-minute, one-track Light Of Day, Day Of Darkness opus is a classic of the prog-metal genre. I enjoyed The Quiet Offspring and have seen them twice more onstage at ProgPower. Following a disastrous US tour in 2007, the band went on a ten-year hiatus, before they regrouped with some live shows and then the wonderful comeback album, Leaves Of Yesteryear, which became my favourite release of 2020.

That album was the first instalment of a five-album deal they had signed with Season Of Mist. The reason for the lengthy deal was that the band already had in mind a rather special multi-album series that had been kicking around within the Green Carnation camp for years.

A Dark Poem, Part I: The Shores Of Melancholia is the first in that trilogy.

"I think it is right to say we are returning to long-form storytelling like Light Of Day, Day Of Darkness," explained vocalist Kjetil Nordhus, "but done in a totally different way. It is not feasible to try and copy ourselves by doing another hour-long song or anything. It has already been done. But on the levels of epic-ness and storytelling, I feel that A Dark Poem certainly has those elements, within a three-album frame."

In treading mostly familiar musical territory, The Shores Of Melancholia is an album that is sure to please long-time fans. I've not enjoyed it as much as its predecessor nor as much as their earlier albums mentioned above. It's a little bit patchy. But when it's good, it is very, very good.

As Silence Took You is a pleasingly melancholic slab of slow-paced doom. For the most part, it clings to its verse-chorus structure, gathering pace for the melodic hook. I love the instrumental break that adopts a thrash-metal sense of aggression, before brightening a little with the arrival of the organ to offer the band's full, distinctive sound. We return to the chorus and end with the opening riff. It's a very circular song but proffers a solid opening.

In Your Paradise is an up-tempo banger that hits the jackpot by incorporating the catchy rock arrangements that helped define the band's Blessing in Disguise era. The contributions of flautist Ingrid Ose elevate this song even further. One of the best songs the band has written. This is sure to be a focus of their live set.

Green Carnation (promo photo by Lars Gunnar Liestøl)

I've read a few reviews that profess to be "enjoying the band's new-found heaviness". I'm not really getting that. It retains the broad spectrum of dynamics that the band has utilised throughout their discography.

Me My Enemy is led by a lovely, looping bass line. It has a slower, darker vibe. It's also quite proggy in a Pallas Beat The Drum-era sorta way. It is also one of several songs where I feel the vocals are not as strong as usual. Nordhus sounds strained and is often not as forward in the mix as I would have liked. This track could also be accused of being rather one-dimensional.

That's not a criticism anyone could throw at the next song. The Slave That You Are is an aggressive throwback to Green Carnation's underground beginnings featuring intense guitars and drums, alongside guest growls from Enslaved's Grutle Kjellson. The juxtaposition between this and Nordhus' melancholic delivery, works wonderfully.

The album's title track feels mysterious and moody. Again, it's quite proggy in style, with some interesting arrangements. It's not as strong as the final song, which is another favourite.

With one of the band's trademark rolling riffs, Too Close To The Flame takes a similar path to those on Blessing In Disguise, but the extended playing time allows the band to drive it into some interesting directions.

Despite being sold on the basis of this being the first part of a three-album concept, I'm not getting a concept vibe at all. The evocative cover art from former Dark Tranquility guitarist Niklas Sundin, certainly gives that idea, but there is no repetition of musical themes across this album, nor a storyline that I am able to follow; certainly not until my CD arrives with the lyric sheet.

The second part of the trilogy is due later this year and the third in 2026. The concept may emerge more clearly as the trilogy emerges. The band's bassist and songwriter, Stein Roger, believes that to be the case.

"A Dark Poem is a collection of songs that explore feelings of alienation in existential questions and down to the very inner self. The first part of the trilogy throws the listener into these questions from the first song. We hope to keep the audience trapped in there with us until the last second of the third album. The albums do vary in style, but always with the same basis. If we manage to keep the audience trapped within each album, we will manage to keep the audience trapped throughout the trilogy, which would be a great achievement."

Nordhus asserts: "I think, with A Dark Poem, we are doing something that will be a milestone in our career. It is challenging for ourselves, and challenging for our fans; just the way Green Carnation has always been."

Screaming Earth — From Manure To The Stars

Greg Cummins

In recent years the Polish prog / art‑rock / alternative scene has become more visible and respected. Bands like Coma, Riverside, Lunatic Soul, Behemoth (though heavier, from a somewhat different tradition), have helped open doors for experimental / progressive music from Poland. There's also a general trend in Eastern Europe where younger bands are combining local sensibilities with modern production, cross‑genre influences and more conceptual ambitions. Screaming Earth fits into that wave, though they are more on the art‑rock / progressive than metal side.

There's something immediately compelling about an album with a title like From Manure To The Stars. It's poetic, ironic, even a little cheeky — and that sums up Screaming Earth's debut rather well. The band consists of only two players: Rafał Redosz, whose talents include dexterous use of electric guitar, acoustic guitar, slide guitar, keyboards, synthesizers, bass and drums, while Andrzej Ende Podscianski provides lead vocals and choral / backing vocals.

This is music made with seriousness and ambition, but it doesn't take itself too seriously. It embraces the cosmic and the mundane, the philosophical and the gritty, with a sound that's immersive, cinematic, and quietly confrontational. At its core, this is progressive art rock, layered, thoughtful and with enough instrumental exploration to keep a listener returning. There's a blend of influences that feels familiar, including classic prog, psychedelic rock, atmospheric post-rock with maybe a little space rock thrown in for good measure. Each track feels like a journey, but none of them meander needlessly — which is impressive, given that several are longer and structurally unconventional.

A recurring structural pattern is definitely present throughout the album, but it doesn't get bogged down with dull repetition. Many of the songs begin with a slow or ambient intro, often led by keyboard pads, acoustic guitar, or subtle bass textures. A gradual build-up follows, layering vocals or clean electric guitars with drums creeping in at just the right moment. A climactic middle section with distortion, more aggressive percussion and quite often, a shift in vocal intensity, helps drive the songs. Finally, a reflective outro or a twist — returning to a softer motif, or flipping into an unexpected mood, concludes each piece.

This pattern gives the album a sense of cohesion, almost like movements in a single large composition. Yet each track manages to distinguish itself with new melodic ideas, unexpected chord shifts, or shifts in instrumentation — so no two songs feel like copies. It's like walking through a forest where the path is familiar, but the scenery is always changing.

Electric and acoustic guitars play a big role: clean, delay-heavy riffs and arpeggios give the songs a dreamy or reflective quality, while heavier, fuzzier tones cut through in the climactic sections. Occasionally, slide guitar or folk-inspired plucking adds texture. Keyboards and synthesizers are used more for atmosphere than flashy solos. Pads, subtle organ drones and swelling synths create an almost cinematic backdrop. The bass is warm and often melodic, playing counterpoint to the guitars rather than just following root notes. Drums are tight but not overly polished but display a dynamic, organic feel with tasteful use of toms and cymbals. There's nothing showy from the stick meister, but he's always contributing to the rising/falling energy.

Vocals are expressive, with a clear emotional range. Sometimes intimate and fragile, other times more theatrical or soaring. They lean more toward art rock than classic rock in tone, with less gravel but a more narrative delivery. Backing vocals (or layered harmonies) are used effectively in several tracks to create a choral or collective feel, without overwhelming the mix.

Lyrically, the album reflects its title: it's about dualities — earth and space, struggle and transcendence, the personal and the political. Without being preachy, it touches on human conflict (possibly war or systemic oppression), media and manipulation, environmental decay, dreams vs reality and the search for meaning in a chaotic world.

It's conceptually ambitious but grounded. Some songs are clearly metaphorical; others have lines that sound almost like journal entries or philosophical musings. What's refreshing is that the album doesn't pretend to have all the answers — it asks, it observes, it ponders.

This album is for listeners who enjoy some challenging progressive and atmospheric rock — think early Porcupine Tree, post-Waters Floyd, or the more song-oriented side of bands like Anathema or Gazpacho. Harmonies are a little thin on the ground, but that is not the immersive side of this band's music.

If you prefer albums that unfold over multiple listens, rather than instantly catchy singles or appreciate dynamic storytelling, both musically and lyrically, then this album might just fill that void in your collection. This is music that's both melancholic and hopeful — it doesn't wallow in despair, but it doesn't sugarcoat things either.

It might not land with fans who need tight 3-minute structures, or who want more aggression or pop accessibility. But for those open to taking the long way around, the rewards are considerable. From Manure To The Stars is a surprisingly mature and cohesive debut. It's an album with a clear emotional arc, solid musicianship, and a distinctive voice. While the songs often follow a similar emotional shape, there's enough musical diversity to keep things engaging. And more importantly, there's real heart here — not just clever arrangements or studio polish.

The album concludes feeling like a conversation you've just begun, rather than one that's over. There's space left for more — more evolution, higher risk, maybe more surprise. But as the first full statement, it's thoughtful, well-crafted, and quietly powerful.

Sometimes In February — Where Mountains Hide

Jerry van Kooten

This must be one of the most accessible difficult albums I've heard in a while. Or perhaps the most complex accessible album? It veers towards math-rock but stays on the prog metal side with a lot of melodies. Of course, it depends on your definition of complex, but if you know my taste by reading my reviews, you might have an idea.

Sometimes In Febrauary are a band from North Carolina, USA. As far as I know, this is their debut. That's impressive. And on InsideOut, a big label, they must have some expectations!

Opener Palantir sets the stage as well as expectations, which are never let down. Within a short time there's an intro that leads to a highly melodic modern prog section where time signatures change several times, a proggy bass-driven section, modern prog metal with symphonic backdrop, a technical middle section in Dream Theater style, an atmospheric fusion style part, some heavy shredding, and back to the first heavy section for the end.

There is not a track that is just complex or just easy. Every track takes you into several directions. That shifting is the main thing in this band. Often sudden, but it always fits, nowhere on the album did I get the idea that a break was there for the sake of making a change.

While Haken and Dream Theater are clearly influences, I hear some Enchant as well. Note that most of the album merely touches those, as it does with several substyles of our targeted genres. A few times the mix of genres includes some near-dissonant fusion which is hard to my ears to follow, but these moments cannot distract me from this demanding but rewarding listening.

A lot of thought has gone into this, but with a clear and present emotional aspect. That last bit is forgotten a little too often in prog and prog metal, to my taste, but not here! A great example is Funeral House, showing a melancholic soundscape in the first half before it builds to what most of the album is about. If you're going to listen to one song, let it be this one.

This fine balance of the rhythmic complexity that is driving the songs and the more accessible melodic embrace where the playing keeps an emotional aspect is what sets this apart from many albums in the complex prog metal section.

Ujig — Delta

Owen Davies

You know when an album hits the spot: when it's mix of styles recalls several favourite artists
when it's melodies linger long after the album has ended
when it's incredible sound quality makes listening to it an absolute pleasure
when it's so enjoyable that you feel compelled to buy a physical copy of the album to replace the digital review files
when it's enchanting playing compels the skin to twitch and tingle with delight.

Ujig's Delta, does just that and much more.

It is an album that simply exudes class at every involuntary tingle, twitch, and captivating musical turn. Spacious melodies abound. Hummable sections demand attention. Glorious instrumental passages tease the ears and caress the senses.

The compositions weave and spin complex patterns. These are occasionally wistfully minimalist in nature and frequently expansive in structure and instrumentation; but more than anything else the compositions are consistently tuneful. In tunes such as, All the Things It Is and Zorua, variations in tempo, and intriguing dynamic shifts wrapped in lush arrangements create an inviting and uniquely satisfying ambience.

Delta is sometimes languid, sometimes upbeat, but always graceful. The bands prowess is clear and is easily appreciated, as distinctive solo instruments and spaciously spun ensemble components forcibly rise, delicately flutter, and enchantingly fall.

I was not familiar with the work of Ujig before I heard their latest album. Since then, I have checked out all their previous releases. Delta is undoubtedly their best work yet.

It begins with the memory forming Deedoo. The haunting and recurring trumpet-led motif is quite stunning. Guest trumpet player Lorenzo Cimino excels. His beautifully rich tones deliver the accessible melody and set the scene. The harmonious piano interlude that follows this introductory section is gorgeous and acts as a distinctive foil to the raw distorted notes of Marco Leo's guitar. The tune's circular structure works well, and the repetition of the opening motif concludes things in a gratifying and reassuringly logical fashion.

Make Make is simply a majestic tune. It features guitar in its first half and piano in its second. The guitar-led melody and clean precise tones struck was reminiscent of Phil Lee's work in the second Gilgamesh album. However, it is probably the exhilarating piano playing of Edoardo Maggioni that is the highlight of the tune. His fleet-fingered solo flirts, froths, flows, and flies. I thumped my chest in an act of primeval appreciation.

All The Things It Is has many satisfying ingredients. These include a fantastic recurring motif, inspirational trumpet playing by guest Fabrizio Bosso and some outstanding ensemble moments.

Some aspects of the gently evolving Maybe had me reaching for comparisons with Gilgamesh. It's just a beautiful tune and one that I will play repeatedly when moon shadows rise and the candle flickers and flutters.

My favourite tune of the album is undoubtedly Sema Beyaz. Luckily Delta offers two versions of this heartwarming piece. On here, Bosso delivers the melodic core of the tune and the bonus version features some extended scat singing by Paola Folli.

Prospettive serves as an interval tune linking both versions of Sema Beyaz by exploring some of its underlying textures and themes. The precise and emotive nature of Leo's cleanly delivered guitar lines is subtly evocative, and the whole of Prospettive is absolutely mesmerising. It certainly reinforces the memorable motifs of Sema Beyaz and acts as a perfect precursor to the bonus version.

Both interpretations of Sema Beyaz are captivating, but the bonus rendition is simply spellbinding.

Folli is a well-known Italian vocalist. She has an expressive voice and her use of it as an instrument is thrilling. Her ability to dynamically project her voice to complement the other components of the music is somewhat reminiscent of Norma Winstone. However, when the need arises, Folli can emit earthy tones in a tonsil-shaking manner. This left me also comparing her dramatic delivery with performer such as Joy Yates.

In fact, there were one or two occasions during Sema Beyaz that reminded me of Pacific Eardrum. Folli's inspired input to this tune is full of invention and improvisation. The dramatic effect of her voice is impressive in both versions, but in the bonus piece its lung splitting qualities are hard to ignore. Indeed, the atmospheric and endorphin-inducing quality of Folli's performance creates an uplifting and fitting conclusion to this accomplished and very enjoyable album.

You know when an album hits the spot:
when it will undoubtedly make the top of your best of list for 2025.

Delta is quite exceptional! I simply adore it!