IL BIANCO REGNO DI DOOAH

Maani, it's time to duck, flying (and razor sharp) Cds are aimed at your head, joking... . Time for me to admit that I may, just may be biased in any dealings with CAP, a perennial favorite (their Nei Gorghi del Tempo" is a true prog classic, soon to be reviewed) and who were super gracious in transcontinental e- mailings and mailings (Mau Venegoni sent me a copy of this album as well as his personal copy CD of their debut which I had only on tape, ugh!) and even greater when meeting Mau and Massimo Gorlezza in Milan summer '03! The previous album "Robin delle Stelle" was a true revelation (soon to be reviewed) of the power of their unique formula of grandiose symphonic prog. "Il Bianco Regno di Dooah" is the third superb studio album from these part-time proggers (Mau is a salami factory owner and Massimo, an architect!), clearly exultingly making music for art sake and not to provide for their families! Rock stars they are not, exquisitely dedicated amateur musicians, absolutely ! The group is composed of 8 stellar musicians, with 2 guitarists, 2 keyboardists, bass, drummer, reed player and lead vocalist, who are all committed to the CAP style, a highly operatic formula and typical of the Italian progressive school. The theme is another somewhat Celtic fairy tale story of castles and kingdoms (the Kingdom of Dooah) with massive choruses that return through the course of this disc, starting off with the sweeping majesty of "Opener". By laying down the medieval musical spine, the fabric of the tale is woven tight, the electric guitars giving this a particular bite, marshaled by some solid bass and ripping drums. There are dashes throughout of Tull, hints of Gryphon, wisps of Giant but totally original and in constant effervescence, with countless detailed touches that keep the listener on an unending edge. "L'Illusione della Sfera" is the first major masterwork, the sweeping synths underscore the recurring theme, propelling relentlessly forward until the nimble piano and recorder decide to veer off in a moody direction, setting the table for lead singer Maurizio Mercandino to release his rather soulful take on the matter at hand. Playful, intricate and most satisfying. "Luna Impigliata Tra I Rami" is a fragile acoustic guitar interlude, courtesy of Massimo, that sets up the medieval gavotte of "La Danza", full of petulant reed work and a vigorous main vocal theme that has genius stamped all over it, another high point. "Ginevra" does not release off the accelerator, the mood getting progressively tighter until a delicate flute ushers in another breathless vocal segment, with sultry piano melancholia as a backdrop, elevating this piece to heavenly heights with a spirited wah-wah guitar exit. "Grande Ombre Gentile" is keyboardist Romeo Bollea's cameo, offering up some funky organ, odd piano winks and a little dissonance that hints to the Gentle Giant (the title is a loose translation!). Good idea, because the next piece is the pearl of the recording, the drop-dead beautiful "Pastelli", a melodic hook so gigantic, it may be a musical ring around Saturn! Passionate vocals, delicate pastels of various instrumental colorings and a chorus similar to "The World became the World" by PFM. Obviously, understanding the language improves the impact but the melody is just too close to perfection, highlighted by a bombastic lead guitar solo that takes this straight to the stars. Prog heaven as our Erik would say! The disc closes out with the 22 minute grand epic "Il Regno", an 8 part suite that has all the usual prog suspects, each smilingly guilty as charged, totally absorbed in squeezing out all kinds of feelings from their instruments (a fluttering and strident synth solo sets the early tone), some lavish mellotron/guitar melodies, meshing with Mau's patented (and unique to CAP) Midi Wind fanfare-like trumpet sound, corkscrewing the theme into a crescendo of agony and "passione". A breezy little jazzy ditty, with slinky guitars and slippery synths keeps the tension going unabated, opening the door for another return of the main recurring melody with an ever increasingly grandiloquent delivery. The pressure is mounting just like Pompeii's volcanic Vesuvius, ready to erupt with uncontrolled fury. The constant contrast between soft melodies and booming crescendos really is beguiling, with Mercandino's continued brilliance on vocals an ongoing highlight. The kindergarten child choir returns again, with some repeated "Uh-la-lah", weaving the by-now familiar theme to its rightful finale, curtsying with an ultimate manic synth/guitar explosion. They have been around for 30 years and have 3 studio albums. They are the paragon prog- loving amateur fans. For that precious asset alone, they are deserving of the loftiest praise. Cinque Stelle.