Bitrate: 320K/s
Year: 2017
Time: 58:04
Size: 134,0 MB
Label: Insideout
Styles: Progressive Rock/Symphonic Prog
Art: Front + Back
Tracks Listing:
1. Children Of The Sounds - 11:31
2. On The Edge Of New Horizons - 17:10
3. Like A Serpentine - 12:52
4. The Shadowy Sunlight - 6:57
5. What's Behind The Fields - 9:32
Musicians:
Patrik Lundström - Vocals;
Aleena Gibson - Vocals;
Hans Lundin - Keyboards & Vocals;
Per Nilsson - Electric & Acoustic Guitars;
Jonas Reingold - Bass;
Morgan Ågren - Drums.
With:
Elin Rubinsztein - Violin
As anyone who follows progressive rock knows, the genre came into full fruition and had its heyday in the early-to-mid 70s. It is therefore no great surprise that there are plenty of modern prog rock bands that take many cues from the time period, and strive to put their own spin on the genre. I generally term these types of bands as “retro prog,” and while I enjoy elements of plenty of these bands, their often slavish imitation of past giants wears thin pretty quickly.
It would therefore be easy to lump Sweden’s Kaipa along with the rest of these bands, except for one very important fact: They’re a mid 70s prog rock band, having released their debut album in 1975. Granted, there has been much turn over the past four decades – and only keyboardist/vocalist/band mastermind Hans Lundin remains from the original lineup – but the pedigree is there to give a bit more in terms of authenticity as opposed to homage. And all those years, plus the current line up being in place since 2000, come into play on their soon to be released ‘Children of the Sounds.’
Despite my general aversion to track-by-track reviews, this will (in most part) be just that; mainly because despite the album’s 58-minute run time, there are only five songs, all but one of which are at about the 10-minute mark. The album starts with the title track, and not being familiar with the band other than by reputation until now, it seems to me a very good introduction to the album and the band for fellow new listeners. It begins with strings and a flute, very reminiscent of the 70s before vocalist Aleena Gibson joins in. Her vocals are rather unique and hard to describe; at once controlled yet not so. They are not unpleasant, but not the type most bands would choose as their main voice.
Lyrically, the 11-and-a-half minute opus is basically about the band and the genre and music in general and what they stand for. I have long hated and argued against the oft-heard criticism of prog that it is “pretentious,” as playing an instrument to the best of one’s ability and writing music to challenge oneself is being musically honest. However hearing lyrics such as ‘out of the aged/we’re building something new/we are messengers from the songs from our hearts/we are universal soldiers of art’ I can’t think of a single other word to call it. “Inane, self-praising drivel” comes to mind, but that’s four words and not one. And the lyrics aren’t even especially accurate, as they’re aged, and not doing anything very new. Musically, the song works fine, and there are some very strong melodies and excellent performances from the band. It’s also quite refreshing to hear an album where the bass is clearly audible throughout.
Thankfully, the cringe-inducing lyrics quoted above are relegated to that one song, and the remainder of the album is more typical of prog in general. The following song is the epic on the album, the 17-minute “On The Edge of New Horizons.” It encompasses most everything one would expect from a 70s epic: lengthy impressive instrumental sections and lyrics that form a journey of sound for the listener, focusing in large part on nature, birds and trees, and the narrator’s place in the world. On this track, as the one before, guitarist Per Nilsson really shines and displays some very respectable chops. His solos and general guitar work are more of the David Gilmore school of playing as opposed to the Robert Fripp style – which is to say it depends far more on mood and feeling than it does on technique and surgeon-like precision. The drumming of Morgan Ågren and the bass work of Jonas Reingold work very well together on the frequent instrumental passages, and the whole result of the three of them plus Lundin’s key work is very pleasant and melodic. My one complaint however is that not once on this epic, or any of the other tracks, does the band play all-out and go for it, or build some tension and then release it with a display of intense music and technical skill. It’s really quite let-down, as if Yes decided to leave off Rick Wakeman’s organ intro and musical explosion after the “I Get Up, I Get Down/Seasons of Man” section of “Close To The Edge” – which is really too horrible for any self respecting progressive rock fan to even contemplate.
The next track, “Like A Serpentine,” essentially tells the story of Lundin’s bike rides around his home, and those ride’s inspirations on writing the songs of the album. It’s refreshingly straightforward, yet mystical in the storytelling, and contains some of my favorite music on the album. The album art of a young child walking down a stone path into a magical garden is the perfect representation of this and the previous song; a journey, a hint of wonder, and the long standing pastoral tradition of much classic early prog. And given that the band was bred in such an environment, it sounds much more honest and genuine than the majority of modern albums that try for such an atmosphere. At the same time however, while it’s very pleasant, there’s nothing very new or unique going on, and not the sort of thing I can imagine telling one’s friend that they “HAVE to listen to this new album.”
The final track is the keyboard-heavy “What’s Behind the Fields”, and by this point, the general music and lyrical style has been very well established, and it doesn’t deviate from what we’ve heard before. It is of course very well performed, and has some melodies that grab your ear, and it ends the album fittingly. And while it will hold one’s interest given the playing skill, it sums up the album well – neither blah nor exciting; pleasant, but not really worth getting excited over. In short, it’s an album that after reviewing it, I might toss in once in a blue moon, but nothing I would seek to obtain a copy of.
Kaipa have with ‘Children Of The Sounds’ put out a 70s style progressive rock album that actually has the sound and feel of honesty and authenticity. But at the same time, it is so rooted in the past that it teases more than it thrills, and is more pleasant than engaging. The musicianship is certainly up to par, but they never take advantage of it, resulting in a nice, but unremarkable prog album. Fans of the band will surely enjoy it, as might prog fans who think the genre ended at the close of 1979, or simply prefer a more old-school sound.
Children of the Sounds
Year: 2017
Time: 58:04
Size: 134,0 MB
Label: Insideout
Styles: Progressive Rock/Symphonic Prog
Art: Front + Back
Tracks Listing:
1. Children Of The Sounds - 11:31
2. On The Edge Of New Horizons - 17:10
3. Like A Serpentine - 12:52
4. The Shadowy Sunlight - 6:57
5. What's Behind The Fields - 9:32
Musicians:
Patrik Lundström - Vocals;
Aleena Gibson - Vocals;
Hans Lundin - Keyboards & Vocals;
Per Nilsson - Electric & Acoustic Guitars;
Jonas Reingold - Bass;
Morgan Ågren - Drums.
With:
Elin Rubinsztein - Violin
As anyone who follows progressive rock knows, the genre came into full fruition and had its heyday in the early-to-mid 70s. It is therefore no great surprise that there are plenty of modern prog rock bands that take many cues from the time period, and strive to put their own spin on the genre. I generally term these types of bands as “retro prog,” and while I enjoy elements of plenty of these bands, their often slavish imitation of past giants wears thin pretty quickly.
It would therefore be easy to lump Sweden’s Kaipa along with the rest of these bands, except for one very important fact: They’re a mid 70s prog rock band, having released their debut album in 1975. Granted, there has been much turn over the past four decades – and only keyboardist/vocalist/band mastermind Hans Lundin remains from the original lineup – but the pedigree is there to give a bit more in terms of authenticity as opposed to homage. And all those years, plus the current line up being in place since 2000, come into play on their soon to be released ‘Children of the Sounds.’
Despite my general aversion to track-by-track reviews, this will (in most part) be just that; mainly because despite the album’s 58-minute run time, there are only five songs, all but one of which are at about the 10-minute mark. The album starts with the title track, and not being familiar with the band other than by reputation until now, it seems to me a very good introduction to the album and the band for fellow new listeners. It begins with strings and a flute, very reminiscent of the 70s before vocalist Aleena Gibson joins in. Her vocals are rather unique and hard to describe; at once controlled yet not so. They are not unpleasant, but not the type most bands would choose as their main voice.
Lyrically, the 11-and-a-half minute opus is basically about the band and the genre and music in general and what they stand for. I have long hated and argued against the oft-heard criticism of prog that it is “pretentious,” as playing an instrument to the best of one’s ability and writing music to challenge oneself is being musically honest. However hearing lyrics such as ‘out of the aged/we’re building something new/we are messengers from the songs from our hearts/we are universal soldiers of art’ I can’t think of a single other word to call it. “Inane, self-praising drivel” comes to mind, but that’s four words and not one. And the lyrics aren’t even especially accurate, as they’re aged, and not doing anything very new. Musically, the song works fine, and there are some very strong melodies and excellent performances from the band. It’s also quite refreshing to hear an album where the bass is clearly audible throughout.
Thankfully, the cringe-inducing lyrics quoted above are relegated to that one song, and the remainder of the album is more typical of prog in general. The following song is the epic on the album, the 17-minute “On The Edge of New Horizons.” It encompasses most everything one would expect from a 70s epic: lengthy impressive instrumental sections and lyrics that form a journey of sound for the listener, focusing in large part on nature, birds and trees, and the narrator’s place in the world. On this track, as the one before, guitarist Per Nilsson really shines and displays some very respectable chops. His solos and general guitar work are more of the David Gilmore school of playing as opposed to the Robert Fripp style – which is to say it depends far more on mood and feeling than it does on technique and surgeon-like precision. The drumming of Morgan Ågren and the bass work of Jonas Reingold work very well together on the frequent instrumental passages, and the whole result of the three of them plus Lundin’s key work is very pleasant and melodic. My one complaint however is that not once on this epic, or any of the other tracks, does the band play all-out and go for it, or build some tension and then release it with a display of intense music and technical skill. It’s really quite let-down, as if Yes decided to leave off Rick Wakeman’s organ intro and musical explosion after the “I Get Up, I Get Down/Seasons of Man” section of “Close To The Edge” – which is really too horrible for any self respecting progressive rock fan to even contemplate.
The next track, “Like A Serpentine,” essentially tells the story of Lundin’s bike rides around his home, and those ride’s inspirations on writing the songs of the album. It’s refreshingly straightforward, yet mystical in the storytelling, and contains some of my favorite music on the album. The album art of a young child walking down a stone path into a magical garden is the perfect representation of this and the previous song; a journey, a hint of wonder, and the long standing pastoral tradition of much classic early prog. And given that the band was bred in such an environment, it sounds much more honest and genuine than the majority of modern albums that try for such an atmosphere. At the same time however, while it’s very pleasant, there’s nothing very new or unique going on, and not the sort of thing I can imagine telling one’s friend that they “HAVE to listen to this new album.”
The final track is the keyboard-heavy “What’s Behind the Fields”, and by this point, the general music and lyrical style has been very well established, and it doesn’t deviate from what we’ve heard before. It is of course very well performed, and has some melodies that grab your ear, and it ends the album fittingly. And while it will hold one’s interest given the playing skill, it sums up the album well – neither blah nor exciting; pleasant, but not really worth getting excited over. In short, it’s an album that after reviewing it, I might toss in once in a blue moon, but nothing I would seek to obtain a copy of.
Kaipa have with ‘Children Of The Sounds’ put out a 70s style progressive rock album that actually has the sound and feel of honesty and authenticity. But at the same time, it is so rooted in the past that it teases more than it thrills, and is more pleasant than engaging. The musicianship is certainly up to par, but they never take advantage of it, resulting in a nice, but unremarkable prog album. Fans of the band will surely enjoy it, as might prog fans who think the genre ended at the close of 1979, or simply prefer a more old-school sound.
Children of the Sounds
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