Vertigo 1980 / 3VƐ 2025
Harnessing classical concepts to give them a tune, Swiss collective descend from celestial spheres to the rivetingly mortal coil.
Elements
Progressive rock might have been in decline in the late ’70s, but this ensemble didn’t seem to get the memo – or if they did, the Lucerne foursome chose to flagrantly ignore it in order to make their sophomore offering an unselfconsciously sophisticated masterpiece. Elevating their guitarless formula to wuthering heights, the quartet upped the game outlined on debut album “Calatea” by dedicating a mini-epic to each of the fundamental natural forces the “Elements” title suggested, and painstakingly painting textures that gel into gripping images. More so, apart from the platter’s opene the words for which were written by the group’s warbler Peter Wolf, the rest of the lyrics emerge from the poems penned by two sixteenth-century masters, Edmund Spenser and John Davies, as well as Ralph Waldo Emerson, and the music such classics inspired simply could not fail to support the perennials’ weight.
It’s enlivened in the very brief finale, when “Savate? Nose!” snaps to jazzy frivolity, yet a similar electric swing is also concealed within the quatrain of pieces that form the main course of this record. There’s almost symphonic drama driving the effects-enhanced “Sun Fire” through the powerful interplay of Roland Ruckstuhl chamber piano, futuristic synthesizers and baroque organ and Pit Furrer’s belligerent drums, before Urs Hochuli’s bass passages shatter the aural image and vocals lead the ensemble towards oratorio and pastoral panorama. While the band’s dynamic scope will sway from a strings-drenched serenity to cosmic pop and brass-smeared funk, and unfold into a kaleidoscopic series of art-rock fantasies, once “Sea Monsters” enters the frame with a Prokofiev-esque grace of ivories runs and reveals a madrigal-like harmonies, the spiritual depths of “Elements” become apparent. As a result, the track’s idiosyncratic arrangement and rhythmic shifts add a refreshing layer to what could alienate some listeners in the beginning and invite them to savor medieval folk and spaced-out fusion; sp when “Earth Song” introduces a cappella to the platter’s inventory, offsetting the number’s instrumental glee, the deliberately mundane fragments create vertiginous contrast with the album’s overall perspective.
However, the multidimensional “A Poem Of Dancing” brings forth a flurry of new surprises – flirting with film-noir cinematics and waltzing with turn-of-the-century romantic themes – without ever losing its jovial grandeur, and thus warrants the audience’s return to this swirl of exquisite delights. A welcome blast from the past.
****2/3
