Leaving long gaps between albums has been par for the course for David Sylvian: there was a twelve-year pause – filled with collaborations – after 1987’s “Secrets Of The Beehive” before “Dead Bees On A Cake” arrived in 1999, and another one after 2014’s “There’s A Light That Enters Houses With No Other House In Sight”: an hour-long piece that required the listener’s undivided attention. This is the format the artist’s forthcoming offering will adhere to as well – yet there’s a difference too.
Terry Draper‘s passing in 2025 robbed the rock world of a prolific artist whose output was consistently strong, even though far fewer people listened to his solo oeuvre than to the recordings of KLAATU the Canadian had risen to fame with. Draper’s latter-day works, such as "Lost" from 2025, were just as interesting, and Terry’s final album “The Odyssey” is no exception. It wasn’t inspired by the recent blockbuster – it was another take on the topic of the adventurous journey he loved so much.
It’s impossible to overestimate the influence the blues version of FLEETWOOD MAC had on heavy rock – it was immense; the imprint that the soft-rock incarnation of the band exerted on metal seemed less noticeable – or so it seemed. Now, proof of the opposite is forthcoming in the form of a tribute album titled “Steel Rumours” and scheduled for release on November 20th. It features a few of the usual suspects, the musicians who appear on many a similar homage, while the not-too-famous players provide the element of surprise always welcome on collections like this.
Collaborations may seem incongruous in the highly individual world of avant-garde, yet they are quite frequent and bring forth delicious fruits. That’s how it is on the “Cosmic Dusts” album concocted by a pair of well-known musicians, Elliott Sharp and Tim Motzer who had heard of each other a long time ago, only to meet in person for the first time in August 2025, when the latter ventured north to the former’s Studio zOaR. The results of their improvised sessions are out now.
It’s been more than seven years since Nigel Benjamin passed away at the age of 64, leaving behind him an indelible trace in the history of not one but two influential ensembles. First there were MOTT, who, sans THE HOOPLE, could have stopped, yet didn’t, because the singer proved to be more than an adequate front man for the legendary band; and then, there were MÖTLEY CRÜE, whose precursor, LONDON, wouldn’t have evolved into the American heroes if not for the Englishman giving them gravitas. He deserved to be remembered and celebrated – only he wasn’t, and the pandemic prevented those who could arrange a proper tribute to the late warbler from doing so.
