LIES AND BUTTERFLIES

Send me to a deserted island with a modest ration of three CDs, and I'll definitely bring "Lies And Butterflies" by the Canadian prog band Mystery. The choice is obvious. This album has everything that makes my musical heart beat faster.

Jean Pagau's intense high-pitched vocals, Michel St-Père's melodic guitar work, and the often bombastic guitar chords from Sylvian Moineau constantly make me forget everything around me, just like the tingling keyboard parts of Antoine Michaud and the dynamic rhythms of François Fournier and Jean-Sébastien Goyette. The band also slows things down with perfectly timed passages of dreamy flute, sparkling piano, and clear acoustic guitar. These elements transport me out of this world time and time again and beautifully complete the picture. Moreover (and this is convenient if you're banished to a deserted island for the rest of your life), I can easily play this album for hours on end without the music ever becoming tiresome. Send me away, preferably today rather than tomorrow.

In the meantime, I'm preparing and doing my research.

The development of Mystery as a band is unstoppable. "Lies And Butterflies," their seventh studio album, is another step up the ladder from its predecessor "Delusion Rain" (2015), and that has everything to do with the carefully crafted compositions. The album shows that, despite the material being epic and complex in nature, it is filled with captivating and, above all, catchy melodies. The vocal lines, in particular, are deeply moving. They achieve this because the musical accompaniment is extraordinarily beautiful.

I can already picture myself wandering along the beach of my paradise island, listening to Looking For Something Else, the epic opener of the album. Over nearly 17 minutes, two sections (which are remarkably similar) are seamlessly blended by a riff-driven interlude. This transition is born from an incredible guitar solo by St-Père. The theme introduced in the first half appears in various gradations. Both in terms of intensity and instrumentation, everything is tastefully balanced. The sizzling repetitions give way, through the riffing interlude, to the beautiful second half of the track where Mystery sounds like a neo-prog version of Kansas, or better yet, Proto-Kaw. The song is an impressive opener, a gem with eternal value.

The band then presents five tracks ranging from just under five minutes to seven and a half. They form a sonic hike, which is then superbly concluded with the fifteen-minute Chrysalis.

Come To Me stands in stark contrast to the intense opening track, which must have been the intention. It's classic rock with a progressive twist. Not bad, but marred by a nagging undertone. The ballad How Do You Feel is something to look forward to. Somehow, I always see this song as the younger brother of The Sky Above The Rain by Marillion. Pagau sings the track with sensitivity, surrounded by various plucked and broken guitar chords. The keyboards sound orchestral, and St-Père plays relentless, full-bodied lead guitar.

Something To Believe In is the perfect track for a musical backdrop at a barbecue. The meal might be meager (three fish and a crab), but the music is grand. This quintessential Mystery track showcases all the band's signature traits, and in the following two tracks, Dare To Dream and Where Dreams Come Alive, they never falter. Where Dreams Come Alive is remarkably rhythmic, and Fournier's bass work is a treat for the ears. The closing Chrysalis is an artfully crafted fence, made of melancholic neo-prog and indestructible prog metal.

"Lies And Butterflies" is an insatiably beautiful album that, of course, sounds infinitely better in my living room through my Tannoy speakers than on any island. What a delight. Take me away, guys.

Orginally posted on www.progenrock.com