Swiss proggers measure their worth at the threshold of a dream.
Not too famous for its art rock scene, Switzerland is a homeland for a string of bands who, while firmly rooted in the ’70s playground, trot their own way. One of those, ZENIT, look for wider horizons melodic-wise, rather than time-warping techniques, and this, their third album, concentrate on songs, save for “The Daydream Suite”, a grand finale damnation of sorts. If the record’s title refers to the maximum mass at which a white dwarf collapses either into a neutron star or a black hole, a musical balance feels fragile once acoustic strum of “Awaken” receives a synthesizer wave to go on an adventurous, if enjoyable, cosmic trip.
Switching from romantic, piano-led strolls to full-on guitar flights, it also includes hilarious reggae breaks that form the initial stage of the brass-splashed “PiGreco”. Thanks to Gabriele Schira’s inventive drumming, such moves nicely counterbalance Lorenzo Sonognini’s vocal theatricality, so delicate in the “Cub Lady” harmonic ember and alluring in the Sanskrit lyrics of “Matrimandir”, high on fusion cooked by Luigi Biamino’s six strings and Ivo Bernasconi’s ivories that, towards the end, coalesce into classical prog tropes. Instrumental “Pulsar” adds some oscillations to the artful throb and could have provide the album with a wonderful ending if not for the aforementioned 23-minute-plus epic, fine in its fragments, especially the quiet ones, yet irritating in its pathetic scope, a manna for the genre’s aficionados. Black hole looming large, the “Limit” deserves to be explored still.