STUCKFISH

Here is another example of a melodic prog band that really deserves recognition, as I own all three previous albums, even though I have not reviewed them yet until this one. With this recent arrival on my Prog Rogue desk, I wasted zero time in getting a few listens in and muscularly attack my keyboard. StuckFish is the clever union of the two leaders, namely vocalist and fantasy land songwriter Phil Stuckley and guitarist /composer/comedian Adrian Fisher, a collaboration that began in with the release of their debut disc, 2018's the Calling. With this spanking new offering, it is safe to say, that while the preceding triumvirate were really very tasty, IV is off the charts amazing! Ably assisted by keyboard wizard and vegan martial artist Paul McNally, the blizzard inducing percussives from 'youngster' Adam Sayers and the reptilian bass of lead (and tall) lizard Phil Morey, this is a well-seasoned crew that have clearly mastered nine incredible pieces of music that should be acknowledged!

Phil's lungs on kick off the festivities on "Shadows and Moonbeams", an organ and guitar groove is expertly laid down and paved by a steamroller bass and drum, immediately attractive melodically, with just a slight cinematic sense of foreboding. Imagine a proggier version of that first Foreigner album, with Fisher peeling off a glittering solo that would make Mick Jones smile in appreciation. An exemplary opening number that sets the bar nice and high. On "Silently Waiting", Stuckley showcases a variant modulation on his voice which conforms to the needs of this softer, moody ballad as it eventually revs up into increased speed, namely propelled by the shivering guitar shards and the pounding rhythmic assault. The final third shifts into a nearly medieval feel, with a sweeping fretboard melody to die for, gliding into the heavens, with the protective Morey bass guarding the rear. Definitely a highlight track can be gleaned on the anthemic "Lifeline", with Phil directing a higher pitch that exudes passion and exuberance. The accessible sound crosses over into more ear-friendly territory, especially when the unexpected transition throws in some polyrhythmic fantasy with both keys and guitars swirling madly, surely a live concert highlight to be enjoyed. The rest of the album now veers into more progressive realms.

A brief piano intro wishes to celebrate "Liberty", a haunting companion piece to the previous piece, delving into a darker disposition that is explained in the lyrical content, when using words such as 'take control' and 'trust in me', a persuasive commentary laden with sufficient sarcasm and irony to please the most jaded pundit! The orchestrations are judiciously placed to enhance the drama, the pace claustrophobic and the feeling of doom and despondence brilliantly portrayed. Acting as a segue to the preceding piece, "Fragile" suggest a hint at 'the owner of a fragile heart ", very clever lyric with overt innuendo to the squire, I could not help smiling at the playful nod to the legends. The theatrical curtain is raised on the velvety revelry exhibited on "The Time of Your Life", a majestic theme based on a massive melody, a whopping vocal performance and the understated yet sensible orchestral backbone, all drenched in trepidation and hope. In a live setting, this would most definitely come down a storm, the poetic narration finishing with the word 'yes' (go figure, LOL). The sizzling guitar spot is simply sublime and stamps this track with a well-deserved golden buzzer moment, as the arrangement gently evaporates into the horizon.

Morey pounces into gear like a starved panther on the punchy "JFKX", a blistering rock groove that chugs along like a bullet train to nowhere, burning desire heard in the impassioned voice, another wink to the 'Hot Blooded' gang, also giving McNally a spot to flirt with Emersonian zeal on his ivories, before rocking ahead in full regalia. Finishing off with two of lengthiest pieces is why this album should truly amaze the prog community, an overt journey into more subtle auditory zones, a long organ intro matched up with tubular bells launches "Fly (on Feathers of Hope)", as the comp veers into dramatic inspiration, with Phil climbing an octave to demonstrate his skills once and for all. The pace is adventurous, with inserted orchestrations astutely used to provide excitement, giving way to another Fisher loop on his six-stringed device, culminating into a soaring flight into the clouds above.

And finally, we arrive at the glorious "SkiesFall", a sprawling 9 minute + epic that nails this treasure chest shut, a terrific electronic snail pace that seeps deep into the senses, with a hypnotic effervescence that seeks only to anaesthetize. The voice is entrancing as it grows in stature and when the coarse guitar rasps kick in, I remind myself that this excellent track could have figured in that James Bond movie with a close resemblance to the title, particularly the mid-section with its exotic ramifications of sound, at times dreamy and suddenly athletic, and then verging on hazardous. Even the lyrics hint at the various interpretations any listener may wish to attach, but this is (excuse the pun) a 'licensed to kill' piece of music that requires to be heard, ending with an axe flurry is treacherously intricate and sonically insistent enough to satisfy M, Q and even, surely grudgingly, Spectre. This number alone is worth the price of admission to a remarkable album, one that should do very well indeed.

4.5 Square quattros