Alan Morse 2026
No remorse: progressive rock maven muses eloquently on the state of our world and affairs of the heart – with his ensemble and more compadres coming to its rescue.
So Many Words
The listener may wonder why a musician should feel the need to temporarily split from his principal project and issue a solo platter, yet remain firmly set within the constraints of a genre, if not exactly style, that group pursued from the start. But then, being a SPOCK’S BEARD founder and mainstay didn’t make Alan Morse the collective’s main writer, and while he contributed to their lore from the very beginning, from “The Light” onwards, it was never enough, as the band-backed – and Ted Leonard-sung – piece, one of the numbers on the American master’s sophomore album under his own name, states. A follow-up of sorts to “Four O’Clock & Hysteria” from 2007, “So Many Words” is, unlike many of the things Alan’s done with his ensemble, a modest offering – as artsy as the veil of The Broad museum referenced on the record’s front cover, and still rather down-to-earth despite an occasional cosmic curlicue Morse’s fingers weave.
Not for nothing opener “Everyday Is Insane” explores enchanting mundanity by picking up where THE BAND’s “The Weight” left off and focusing on Alan’s immense skills as multi-instrumentalist, with Simon Phillips’s drums supporting, and often driving, his heavy riffs, as a mandolin undercurrent and synthesizer front provide a foundation for Morse’s unpretentious voice to sculpt the story. And not for nothing a phrase “The time is now” in this song is a clue to the electronica-tinctured “And It’s Time” which will be revealed later on and crowned with bluesy passages, after the raga-tinged “I Don’t Want To Travel Time If It Takes Forever” – a family affair that finds Alan’s brother Neal sharing a harmonious vocal and guitar load and son John laying down a steady beat bolstered by Tony Levin’s bass – has added a hint of it all forming a loose concept. The acoustically based “This Is Who We Are” feels strange in such a slightly spaced-out context, but the folk-informed serenity and innocent awe of the elder Morse’s performance, as well as the cut’s anthemically orchestral coda, are irresistible, and the deceptively simple “Shadow Of The Sun” – another Neal-abetted tune – only enhances the warmth of the album’s logical flow, where Alan’s four strings swell so gloriously.
Sure, a techno-fusion effort called “Bass Solo” is less arresting than the rest of the platter, even though there’s more to the piece than the audience can glean from the title, “Make Me Real Again” thunders quite superficially, and the titular stomper doesn’t fully deliver on its initially infectious promise, especially intriguing in rapped parts and Eastern patterns. However, “Making Up My Heart” – which places Julia Morse at the microphone alongside her pater and lets old friend Nick D’Virgilio shape a solid groove for their duet – brings a pop polish to the table, and the contemplative “Behind Me” wraps up the record with a whiff of wonderful sincerity and Ariana Giokaris going for the “Great Gig In The Sky” flight. A little less prog, and “So Many Words” would be perfect.
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