Issue 2025-058
Gazpacho — Magic 8-Ball
Jerry van Kooten
It's taken a few years, but the new Gazpacho album is here! One reason why it took so long was that the band had been working on a storyline about a meteor coming to Earth and people didn't want to believe it. While working on the album, the film Don't Look Up! was released which had such a big overlap with their story that they could not go through with it. Several existing musical parts were used but lyrics had to be rewritten, and a decision was made to break up the long suite into separate songs.
That last bit, I have to say, might actually have been a very good decision. Spoiler alert as here comes the conclusion: I think this is the best album the band has made!
Now how did I get there?
No thanks to their label K-Scope for not sending a promo to the one website that has been there for the band since the beginning, it was up to someone close to the band to provide us with a review copy of the album. Ah well. Heavys headphones (without the Gazpacho shells, though), 24 bits 48 KHz files, and go.
Starling opens in true Gazpacho tradition; you instantly know this is them. Melancholic piano melodies over increasing number of layers of atmospheric soundscapes of several other instruments. Halfway it gets Scandi dark noir creepy with piano and, not heard often, acoustic guitar strumming. Only then you realise there have not been any drums for 6 minutes. But when they do enter, it's epic goosebumps material. Everything that ever was Gazpacho comes into play here.
Even with the typical dark and soaring melodies, a heavier feel becomes present in Sky King. I love the wailing guitar, only slightly distorted. And it becomes clear that guitar, distorted or otherwise, has a much larger part in the overall sound of the album. It feels like a general shift, one much applauded by my ears.
The relatively short Ceres and title track don't give an impression of briefness since they go through different sections, just quicker. They both have nicely quirky elements, like the piano in Ceres and the vocal melodies on staccato bass and drum beats on Magic 8-Ball. I don't have enough room here to go into too much detail, but there are so many different and unexpected elements I could mention. It's a lot. And these are just the two shortest tracks!
The start of the final track reminds me of the opening track but it goes in different directions. Not forgetting the intense epic outburst, we're heading towards to a grand finale of the song and album.
You may have noticed I have not mentioned We Are Strangers yet. It's because it hardly fitted anywhere in the above descriptions and musically stands out the most on any Gazpacho album. I have to call this Gazpacho Goes Psychedelic. Space rock is a new element to the music of Gazpacho. So much is happening here, you don't know where to, erm, listen. The piano playing and intricate drumming seem out of phase now and then (are they in different time signatures?), but are meeting again, making for active progressive listening. But the point of this song is to listen, be, float, fly. Bloody hell, that was positively unexpected and what a great trip!
The mix is excellent again, which can be expected, but let's not take that for granted. I think Jan Henrik Ohme sings better than ever before. The band seems to have grown in numbers, instruments, layers. The songs sound more compact, as everything was shoved closer to each other. Many things around the soundscapes feel like they're denser.
This album touches many parts of the band's history, and all of them I like. The atmospheric is there, the intensity is there; everything oozes the melancholic Gazpacho essence. And then there is an added element with We Are Strangers.
So that's how I got there.
John Holden — The Great Divide
Greg Cummins
As someone who has followed John Holden's musical journey closely, I can say without hesitation that his latest album is not only a continuation of his signature cinematic progressive rock style but it's also an expansion of his musical palette in meaningful and emotionally resonant ways.
What strikes me immediately is how thematically cohesive this album feels. From the opening track, there's a narrative depth that's woven throughout each and every song. Holden's compositions have always leaned into storytelling, but here, it feels like he's found an even more refined way to let the music breathe and unfold without sacrificing structure or momentum.
The Great Divide feels like a step forward in John Holden's evolution. It's more ambitious in structure, bolder in its fusion of styles and more emotionally varied than some of his previous work. It doesn't completely abandon what made albums like Kintsugi so compelling but it stretches those ideas even further and provides the listener with some seriously engaging rewards.
It's an album that plays with contrasts using long vs short sections replete with lush orchestration vs sparse sections. It balances rock grit and gentle acoustic folk, adding infectiously melodic vocals throughout the album. Holden clearly set out to challenge himself both in terms of composition and production, and for the large majority of the album, that attempt succeeds admirably. I must confess that Kintsugi was the first album from John Holden that I heard in 2022 but after being blown away by that incredible effort, I quickly acquired the balance of his catalogue. And what an intriguing journey that turned out to be!
Compared to Kintsugi, where Holden already used classical‑prog fusion (strings, piano, occasional orchestral colour), The Great Divide pushes these elements further forward. There are tracks where orchestral pads, brass or string ensembles are not just background textures but are integral to the architecture of the piece. The dynamic layering is more dramatic where crescendos are more prolonged while the transitions from soft to loud have more nuance.
Guitar solos are more daring, with occasional jazz‑influenced runs used effectively. Some interesting rhythmic experimentation is also evident with many of the songs dipping into odd meters or utilising complex time signatures within individual tracks.
After hearing the incredible vocals on the opening song, I dug a little deeper and discovered they have been created through AI. While this may seem like a detraction in credibility, I can understand why they were kept in the mix as they sound so incredibly authentic to the point it would be hard to imagine what result might have been achieved if the microphone was held by anyone other than a machine-created entity. The net result is that the song is so incredibly well-composed, the album is worth buying based upon the strength of this one track alone. It really is that good.
In places, backing vocal harmonies are more complex (multi‑part harmonies, occasional counter‑melodies) than before. Lyrically, there's a more thematic contrast with introspection and existential questions being raised along with some outward observations about place, distance and relationships. A few songs lean heavily on metaphor; others are more direct.
There's a mix of conventional song forms (verse‑chorus‑bridge etc.) and more extended compositions. One or two tracks stretch out to epic lengths with multiple sections allowing for extended instrumental passages, modulation and dynamic contrast. These longer pieces are among the highlights — they allow for a more adventurous journey with more challenging sections and more aural payoff for the listener.
This is an album that touches the heart in many ways and will leave you feeling truly inspired by how creative some musicians can be. Those efforts have been admirably backstopped by engaging the services of some truly gifted accomplices. Vocally, Iain Hornal (4 & 7), Peter Jones, (2 & 5) and Sertani (3 & 6) are in top form while guitar contributions are provided by Luke Machin (2) and Michel St Père (4). Jon Poole plays bass on (6).
I think The Great Divide is a strong, ambitious effort that mostly succeeds in what Holden seems to set out to do: to push himself and expand his sound.
For me, it edges ahead of Kintsugi in terms of risk and reward, even if Kintsugi was more consistent in its lighter moments. The Great Divide has more sweep; it is more challenging but often more satisfying. If you enjoyed John's earlier albums, then his latest offering should definitely be on your radar. Fans of Cosmograf, Dave Bainbridge, Mystery, Ken Baird, David Minasian, Martin Orford, Sylvan, Glass Hammer, Karfagen, Millenium and The United Progressive Fraternity should find much to savour with this exceptional album.
Kashmir — Demos + Old Tapes
Jan Buddenberg
At some stage during my years of music listening, I got infected with a persistent collector's virus. A harmless, antidote-resistant, parasite whose symptoms have been fairly disastrous to the immunity of my wallet as my ever expanding pile of CDs, DVDs, digital recordings and other miscellaneous items so clearly shows. For many bands active today the curing discography is still pretty easy to get hold of. Thankfully. But once a band no longer exists, the remedy proves to be quite a challenge.
Which is were Kashmir, whose excellent album Balance I reviewed in 2020, come in. This posthumously released album undeniably activated the contagion held within me to also assimilate all of their previous output. However, these recordings were no longer available some 30+ years after the dissolution of the band. This forced the disheartened virus back into hopeful silent running mode over the past few years. It was joyously reactivated several months ago when Somnus Media decided to release all of the missing items of Kashmir's back catalogue.
The first of these efforts to be savoured again is Demos + Old Tapes. A release that offers a collection of demo-songs officially released in 1990, to which two tracks of the 1995 and 1996 commemorative albums for the International Gijón Cinema Festival have been added.
Out of these two additional compositions, the safe interpretation of Survivor's Eye Of The Tiger fairly loses out to the uplifting victorious fighting feel of the original. The bluesy El Efecto Mariposa however, is a clear compositional winner that comfortingly finalises proceedings on a groovy pop note with soulful deliveries and passionate guitar/organ performances that heat the soft rock melodies in delightful Ambrosia fashion. Despite their sound superiority, these songs are still no match for the four demo songs, though.
To get expectations out of the way about the quality of the remaining demo recordings, these are rough, fairly unpolished, and at times even show signs of wear and tear. The latter is shown in the melodic rocker I'm A Loser. Here, the band passionately blasts through catchy AOR choruses and a variety of vivacious soloing movements with expert musicianship.
What these sonic limitations don't hide, is the musical promise of the band. Into the Night hints at Magnum and showcases a dynamic catchiness in spirit of Walk The Wire. This contagious composition brings forth exciting memories of Shotgun Symphony and Galaxy, thanks to abundant synth injections. Images of Prophet materialise courtesy of excellent virtuous interplay and the song's relentless dynamic drive that pushes the infectious melodies on.
The Prophet image makes another sublime return in the outstanding EP highlight The Hunt Of The Fox. As a pompous AOR treat, this composition effortlessly rampages past ravishing melodies played with expert dynamic virtuosity as meanwhile spectacular guitar and synth solos, a church organ orchestrated bridge, and powerful vocals compellingly grab hold. Demo quality aside, this joyous composition is one of the tracks I enjoy listening to the most and may well be my favourite Kashmir song.
Rivalled closely by Rude Land that is, which after a piano intro dives straight into powerful 80s hard rock reminiscent of Uriah Heep, Deep Purple and Whitesnake. Well-written and passionately played, it is especially the bombastic nature and the song's glorious solos that really impress and captivate here.
This excellent composition, as well as Into The Night, fortunately survived Kashmir's selection procedure for Promised Land which they managed to release as a debut two years later. The reason as to why they didn't select The Hunt Of The Fox at that time is unknown to me. But I'm sure glad that the (AOR/melodic rock) fan-collectible release of Demos + Old Tapes has now made this magnificent composition part of my collection.
To be continued.
Kashmir — Promised Land
Jan Buddenberg
Two years and several line-up changes after their first demos, Kashmir entered the debuting stage with Promised Land. Slightly altered in song order for the reissue, this release apparently proved to be a historic moment in time. As this was the first ever hard rock album to be recorded and released in Spain's natural paradise of Asturias where the band finds its origin. Although the sole description of hard rock itself doesn't fully cover the load. Because Kashmir also frequently deliver joyous moments of melodic rock, AOR, pop, and crossover prog.
And party rock, as Are You Ready To Rock 'n Roll (and its Spanish version Preparados Para El Rock N' Roll) so brightly evident demonstrate! Both of these tracks speak universal volumes in rock 'n roll. And each offers up high entertainment values in contagious rock and an engaging gospel of sing-along choruses and refrains that are as comfortable and easy approachable as a warm bath on a cold winter day. These songs mostly reminded me of Vengeance.
Much like I'm On Fire that quickly brings Cheap Trick with synths, and guitar spectaculars from Angel Antonio Berdiales. This undoubtedly went down a storm in a live setting. The bluesy Blindman, with organ and subtle Gary Moore hints, made me think of Franck Carducci, whose gigs also tend to go energetically through the roof.
In comparison to the demos reviewed above, Promised Land exhibits a firm step upwards on the production ladder. It vibrantly comes along with a typical 90s sound that aids the spontaneous feel and vibe of the music perfectly. Although some values are not perfectly balanced: sometimes Fernando Martínez Rodriguez' vocals are registered surprisingly loud in the mix. An example of this can be found in the incredibly catchy Into The Night which, like its demo offering, dynamically blasts through AOR inspired designs with pompous synths and driving melodic rock treats in finest Shotgun Symphony tradition.
Similarly ear-friendly and ravishingly pomp-charged is Promised Land. The groovy Tell Me A Lie truthfully envisions Styx. A syrupy earworm ballad in the form of Crying For The World which displays elements of Extreme and The Scorpions. The outstanding, fast-paced Coming Home that opens the album with a full blast of dynamic melodic AOR. It all in all becomes clear that the recommended Promised Land delivers guaranteed satisfaction for the melodic rock enthusiast.
For the Whitesnake, Uriah Heep and Led Zeppelin fan this level of contentment becomes even greater with the fantastic oeuvre highlight of Rude Land which thankfully survived the band's selection procedure for this excellent debut. This compelling composition has rock classic written all over it. It is by far the best track on the album as far as I'm concerned. It offers a rousing combination of thrilling suspense, catchy melodies formulated in tight rhythms from Manu Maroto (drums), powerful guitar play, strong vocal accomplishments, and marvellously crafted heavy rock, elevated by blazing Jon Lord keyboards and atmospheric synths that delightfully make the horrors of The Exorcist fully come back to life.
Playing festivals and the club circuit in support of the album, highlighted by a support tour for The Scorpions, Kashmir subsequently managed to record the EP Hard Times in 1997. Which, as the last of the re-issues, is up next.
To be continued.
Kashmir — Hard Times
Jan Buddenberg
The third and final Kashmir reissue is their 1996 effort Hard Times. Recorded in an almost identical line-up that now sees Emilio Gutiérrez behind the keys while Armando Da Veiga and Fillo García both provide backing vocals, it is seen as the band's second album. With a playing time of a mere twenty minutes, this feels a bit of a stretch. Personally, I see this as an EP.
Talking of a stretch, this most definitely applies to the chosen title of Hard Times. The second track on the EP, Hard Times R'n'R, clearly refers to it, so this might well be the choice of reason for this title. Or maybe they experienced some hard times during the recording sessions that I'm not aware of? Either way, it doesn't do full justice to their efforts because ultimately, the music on Hard Times makes melodic rock fans have a splendidly good time!
The finest example of this is the no holds barred, woman and children first, cracking opener of Chewing Beer. Personally, I love all sorts of beers, even the chewy ones. But I especially like a brew like this as this is a totally different and delightfully easy to swallow, refreshing rock affair. Driven on with plenty of speed and ravishing guitar supported by energetic keyboards and the thunderously dynamic rhythm section of Alejandro Blanco (bass) and Manu Maroto (drums), this outstanding composition has the infectious swagger of Van Halen's Hot For Teacher. Frankly, this song makes me wonder how much roof was left when they performed this song live in those days.
Hard Times R'N'R tones this high energy level down a notch with contagious melodic rock and engaging melodies. With trumpets. Presumably from keys as no horn players are mentioned. It follows through with a delightful diversity of keyboard work including Hammond playing, rock and roll piano, Honky Tonk ragtime piano. With Angel Antonio Berdiales' solid guitar work, this gives the song an excellent boogie feel. Fernando Martínez Rodriguez provides some strong vocals. Prog you ask? Not really, but who cares. Put on your party hat and rock out. For those interested, an acoustic interpretation of this song is to be found on their final album Balance which was posthumously released in 2020.
Keeping their engaging melodic rock style going with Take Me, a fairly standard AOR-inspired composition with fine harmonies and excellent guitar parts that bring melody and emotion, it is the curiously titled I Wan't You that next provides the ballad on the EP. Sensitively played with romantic piano sounds, this head and tail composition not only feels lingeringly bluesy in both concept and context. It also features some excellent blues licks from Berdiales.
In a perfect world, Kashmir's upward musical trajectory would likely have resulted in many more recordings. However, circumstances involving their record label prevented this from happening at the time. So the final song actually released during their lifetime is the outstanding Perfect World. A song, which in spirit of a less pompous Shotgun Symphony, finalises the EP with strong performances, elegant and smooth melodies, and a marvellous midway acceleration that Berdiales injects with some excellent shredding.
I'd like to give a big shout-out to Somnus Media who published all this material for themselves, friends and fans of the band, for bringing Hard Times, Demos + Old Tapes, and Promised Land back into the spotlights that they so rightfully deserve. Admittedly, prog values within these three offerings are somewhat marginal. However, for the 80s orientated melodic rock / AOR inclined enthusiasts amongst our readers, there is a delightful array of well-written and formidably executed music on offer which is fully worth checking out. In other words:
To be discovered!
John Wilkinson — Imposter Syndrome
Béla Alabástrom
The news-agents on the housing estate where I grew up were rather unprepossessing, with metal grilles on the windows, a succinct and palpable statement of stark socioeconomic reality. Inside, however, the shelves behind the counter offered a wondrous display of jars with screw top lids, Aniseed Balls, Soor Plooms, Pear Drops, Barley Sugars, their bright colours and stripes calculated to entice the pocket money pennies from sweaty palms. One jar held Flying Saucers, modest rice paper parcels. For the initiated, they had no need to vie for attention. The paper melted and the tingling explosion of sherbet overwhelmed the senses, blotting out the imperfect world, the graffiti, the empty crisp packets stuffed into the hedges, the dog dirt landmines lurking on the grassy slopes of the park, focusing your entire being on your tastebuds for one glorious moment of escape.
Imposter Syndrome has a similar effect, delivering a concentrated burst of plush, pop-infused prog, effortlessly transporting the listener from the tribulations of the everyday.
Album opener Pulling Threads immediately proclaims its prog credentials with a glorious flourish of keys, guitar and bass before launching into a fast-paced, heady rollercoaster of emotional betrayal in this semi-autobiographical account of a break-up. The metaphor of picking away at the threads of the fabric of intertwined lives is perfectly judged and executed, John's vocals superb. A shimmer of piano fans out ostentatiously like a peacock's tail on display, iridescent pigments resplendent, as the pace abruptly slows.
The use of a drum machine reminiscent of The Buggles' Adventures in Modern Recording (most notably on Vermillion Sands and I Am A Camera, their reinterpretation of Into the Lens) is an inspired accompaniment to the more introspective passage before the pace picks up again. No dismal, dreary wallowing in misery, which the subject matter might suggest in a more conventional approach, this is an upbeat anthem of surviving heartbreak and moving on.
The King of Yesterday, inspired by an advertisement for an Eighties weekender, conveys its poignant commentary on the fleeting and fickle nature of fame, and the gut-gnawing craving to regain it, with needlepoint precision. Although the theme is, by definition, melancholy, the narrator ignominiously relegated to the bottom of the billing, his star long since having waned; again it is not mired in gloom and self-pity. The lyrics eloquently capture the callousness and cynicism of the profit-making imperative, the endlessly repeated cycle of the industry's relentless cogs grinding those it once vaunted as soon as sales begin to dwindle. Opening gently with acoustic guitar, violin and whistle, with a wonderful guitar solo and era-evoking details such as the clapping sound (Bette Davies Eyes by Kim Carnes), this is prog's resplendently melodic answer to Prefab Sprout's The King of Rock 'n' Roll, John's vocals exuding empathy in place of caustic irony.
As the last lingering rays of sunlight solemnly retreat, its particulate-enhanced red hues are supplanted by the harsh and unremitting glare of the artificially illuminated cityscape's concrete wastelands stretching endlessly, punctuated by industrial flares. Exodus conveys the desolation of this alien world, subjugated, its natural resources exploited to the point of irreversible depletion, with widescreen expansiveness and a distinctively mournful Celtic tinge, spectral synths of gossamer intangibility evoking the beckoning cosmos beyond.
Like an involuntary shiver down the spine, the trancelike contemplation is interrupted by a flourish of the drums, the forward drive picked up and enhanced by the keys and guitar, in a more optimistic passage, as the civilisation invests its collective technological ingenuity and energies in building a fleet with which to embark on a search for a more habitable environment. The voyage through the stars is beautifully and serenely encapsulated by crystalline keys, the repetition of the phrase not only redolent of the vast distances traversed, but introducing a hint of tension at the uncertainty of the outcome.
The underlying unease intensified by the plaintively intertwining guitar and insistent yet subdued drumbeat. The mood shifts again, with the bass more prominent, as the destination looms. A magnificent and unashamedly proggy key solo heralds their arrival, articulating overwhelming relief and celebration, of triumph without triumphalism, ending on a buoyant note of hope. Without revealing the plot twist, perhaps misplaced.
Wherever we turn, we are assailed by the constant clamouring for attention, amplified by social media, which enslaves us through our craving for the dopamine hit from a spate of blue thumbs up. We can never be rich enough, we can never be wrinkle-free enough, we can never compete with the carefully curated and manipulated images of perfection calculated to persuade us of our inadequacy (while proffering products with false promises of age reversal, slenderness or whatever else is deemed desirable yet forever unattainable).
Little wonder we are riven by doubt and debilitated by self-loathing. The title track exemplifies the album's manifest strengths with its infinitely relatable emotional honesty, deepest insecurities courageously laid bare, neither ostentatious nor showy, the antithesis of the contestants on The Apprentice, whose brazen self-confidence is devoid of any substance to back it up, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
It also testifies to John's eloquence as a lyricist, economical yet compelling, demonstrating that rarest of gifts, authenticity. From the gentle acoustic guitar in stark and poignant juxtaposition to the internal monologue, the strumming of the mandolin reminiscent of Pendragon's 360 Degrees, to the heart-rending guitar solo so consummately distilling the roiling anxiety, trepidation and anguish concealed from view, before the nagging voices resume their relentless tirade, this is a searingly exquisite and meticulously structured piece, my favourite on the album.
Full of warmth and heart, Imposter Syndrome is beautifully crafted, a richly satisfying, immersive and uplifting listen, a refuge from the pervasive darkness which surrounds us, like the comforting glow of a cottage light welcoming the weary traveller, the kettle on to greet them.