Spacehouse 1994 / Progressive Gears 2026
There’s no more borrowed time: British foursome turn back the clock to start another cycle.
The Stranger Inside The Self
One may find an inherent paradox in a neo-prog ensemble’s urge to access the past in order to propel themselves into the present, but Nick Jackson, the mastermind behind this English collective, didn’t really plan on doing so – he simply responded to the fans’ interest in the project’s 1994 debut. Laid down as a solo endeavor and initially released on cassette, “The Stranger Inside The Self” somehow resisted remixing and proved much easier to record afresh. It opened up new possibilities for old pieces that, according to the writer’s imperative, had to largely stay the same, with improvements manifested in beefier, yet very nuanced, arrangements. What sounded tentative when he was only twenty and bent on following the genre’s template became much better once the frame of reference got discarded in favor of songs per se, and there couldn’t be a better way to celebrate the band’s 30th anniversary – especially since their last studio album saw the light of day almost a decade ago.
It came full circle in the aftermath of “We’re All In This Together” from 2017, as the deeply moving “When We All Fall Down” from the group’s first album expands on the same concept by gifting the listener the magnified sway of the track’s gospel choir – a unique feature for an art-rock platter – and also reflecting both the sonic image and the spirituality of the twangy “I Won’t Pray On Sunday” and the resonant “Waiting For The World” that appear earlier in the running order. The owners of the record’s tangible format will have the chance to compare the 2026 version to the remastered original, occupying a separate disc here, although the now-obscure variant should remain a curio showing how the ensemble advanced – showing how the quartet’s progress is tied in with their chosen style. Heavier in the guitar department, the album’s titular opener breathes with life while staging existential drama and providing the audience with heavenly harmonies, built around Nick’s vigorous vocals, and celestial melodies, whose refrains beg for joining in. As riffs ruffle the effect-laden “More (Sanitary Insanity)” to create a stronger, organ-bolstered, belligerent momentum, pop elements seep into the overall aural picture too, rendering the results irresistible, but “Until The Children Come Home” enriches the flow with atmospheric soulfulness.
However, the smoldering “Do You Remember” – the only number to have been overhauled to give “The Last Of November” a different angle – directs the drift inwards and makes the ivories sound jazzy, the usual blues harmonica taking it all down to earth, whereas the piano-sprinkled “Something To Say” marries balladry to poetically veiled social commentary. Yet if “To Have And To Hold” introduces the toll of wedding bells to enhance the sentimental tune’s folksy undercurrent, the mini-epic “Round And Round” forms a cosmically vibrant finale, demonstrating the collective’s spiral ascension from their beginnings to here and now. Getting to know “The Stranger” again is heart-warming; using this record as a springboard for the long-overdue next album is the best way to approach “The Self” and embrace the future.
*****
