NIGHTINGALE HALL

Lyrian is an intriguing prog-folk outfit from Oxfordshire, England, catching my attention in large part due to an ongoing fascination with medieval forms of prog, whereby modern instruments are used within 600 year-old parameters that have withstood the test of time and sound even more vibrant today. Gian Castello's two rare albums form the proudest segment of my voluminous collection, as I find myself transported back in time to a land of pastoral settings, castles and knights, damsels and dragons and minstrels and madrigals. Recent works by Faverola, Resonaxis, the Merlin Bird, Bededeum, Fauns, Ion, Minimum Vital, Motis, Shine Dion, Ton Scherpenzeel and Wurtemberg keep the flame going and might as well toss in Blackmore's Night while we are at it. They go hand in hand with Gryphon, Amazing Blondel, Malicorne, Holderlein and Ougenweide, as fine examples of the communion of past, present and future.

Their debut disc "Nightingale Hall" is definitely a mood enhancing voyage, as opposed to an overt technical display of dizzying chops, creating a misty foray into a mystic past, often minimalist in arrangement, yet heavy on creativity. Featuring lifelong friends John Blake and Paul W. Nash as main singers, instrumentalists and composers, they are joined by Alison Felstead on bass and vocals to create a rich tapestry of sonic magic, laden with fairy-tale fantasy and symphonic splendor. An opening "Prelude" sets the stage with various effects (it is a prog album after all!) and segues into the sweeping title track, a 17 minute suite that effortlessly glides through various phases of serenity, heavily dependent on the elegance of the piano and a lustrous guitar phrasing that is loaded with effects a la Steve Hackett. The stark male voice evokes a fragile lament, as the lush church organ booms forward, unrelenting. A soft pastoral section introduces an acoustic guitar-led bucolic and melancholic passage, twinkling brightly amid the gentle flutters of a distant flute. A flimsy filigree, a soothing pretense only to reboot the lilt in harder terms, drums marshaled and determined (they may be programmed), while the slippery guitar carves resentfully. The majestic organ once again takes over the realm, guiding the arrangement into a third expanse, a somewhat gloomier one, yet still playfully caressing their instruments. The bass sounds synthesized, a trait that proves the claim that Lyrian has covered Ultravox' epic and classic Gothic masterpiece "Vienna" and can be seen on YouTube. The bass similarities are striking and technically interesting as the ancient and modern unite in harmonious delight. Nevertheless the delicate folk tendencies are overpowering and utterly satisfying, with occasional swells of orchestrations that are straight out of classical symphonies. Crows caw, heavenly voices cry and the church organ plays the final farewell. Amazing!

The overt early Genesis tones of "The Summerhouse" hearken back to forgotten times, a world of tingling keyboards, whistling synths, acoustic guitars and light percussion, the brittle voice coming through the sunshine, as if good ole Anthony Phillips had shown up with his geese and ghost, 12 string not far behind.

Another whopping epic track is the 15 minute + "He Who Would Be Valiant Be", showcasing an uncanny ability to coalesce ancient stylings with modern musical accouterments, a rather original pairing in my humble opinion, making this theatrical endeavor highly entertaining. The boisterous synth patterns both lead, rhythm and bass, form a wide berth for the squirrely guitar to peel off some delirious solos, Gregorian chanting in the background, I mean this is a futuristic voyage back to the Middle Ages. The crestfallen minstrel hushes his lips as he retreats into the shadows, the velvet curtains now openly drawn, the magical lute laying on the banquet table amid the goblets and platters. The voice 'weeps for England', as the men march out the drawbridge, beyond the moat and the banners are flying high. Expressive musical genius!

The ringing of "The Chimes" announce the 'heroit' , the tribute in payment due to a lord or king upon the death of a vassal, a mournful and forlorn piece with twinkling keys that sound closer to harpsichord. Suddenly half way through the gentle gauntlet, the haunting pace revs up into a colossal procession with booming drum patterns and howling synthesized orchestrations, including a few tortured solos that sound like Billie Currie (Ultravox) revisited. I am thoroughly impressed!

Ah, yes my liege! Romance was created back in the 1100s with the incredible 'chansons de geste', songs of heroic deeds all aimed at eventually obtaining the heart of the damsel in question. "The Lovers Under the Trees" follows that wonderfully romantic premise, amorous flute and suave guitar strings, as the troubadour chants the poem of love and adoration. There is a reason the band is called Lyrian, as the lyric poetry overtakes the arrangement, creating a cycle of epic foundations, the screeching electric guitar attaining new paroxysms of intensity. The booming drums (though programmed) add a density of modernism that speaks volumes (the band members were once librarians!) to the band's vision and style.

The subtle flute and fluid guitar combine majestically on the sweeping and serene "Winter Song", a brief pastoral voice that seeks to emulate the barren beauty of the fields of temporary white. It sets the ideal table for another grandiose finale, this time a 13+ minute affair, "Lucifer" is its name. The piece starts out rather happily, a shrill voice that sounds at times like Ian Broudie of the Lightning Seeds, gaining in impetus as the organ layers begin their assault on the senses" Soon enough the eventual arrival of the axe guitar chops away at the flow, introducing a darker gauntlet, a moat of infested imagination, floating codpieces that wink at madly fluted Aqualung, choir and voice quivering. The angelic howl returns, as the night fades into the ghostly night, the somber bell rings the arrival of the inevitable knight, the chevalier of darkness.

Admittedly, this will not be everyone's cup of hydromel (mead), so be forewarned! If you don't get the premise, do not bother going on this crusade, it's beyond your ancestry! I just love this style of 'fairhead' prog. Love the 'pitchkettled' artwork

4.5 Thrush Manors