Style: Progressive rock, symphonic prog (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Gong, Steve Hillage, Rush, Motorpsycho
Country: Tennessee, United States
Release date: 4 July 2025

Very few works are as satisfying to come across as an overly ambitious yet brilliant opus. Azure’s Fym, Dissona’s Paleopneumatic, and Native Construct’s Quiet World are journeys across fantastical landscapes and across genres, dedicating themselves to a persistent theatrical grandeur; their lofty goals are overwhelmingly successful, and a slight lack of polish lends these records a timeless charm and a much-needed sense of humanity. Enter Pishogue, a genre-transcending duo featuring Georgia’s Finnian Boyson as Bælor’Throndoth and Tennessee’s Spife as, uh, Spife. Pishogue’s self-titled LP explored menacing and hypnotic Berlin school synths as a framework for an expansive story involving the collapsed continent of The Eldslunds, a setting rife with advanced technology, magical corruption, and prophecy. The duo’s latest release, The Tree at the End of Time, wholly recontextualizes the synths of Pishogue into a symphonic prog framework, detailing a pivotal moment in The Eldslunds’ history involving the transfer of knowledge and subsequent ascension of a Pishogue introduced in the debut. Like the titular character, do Pishogue transcend their expectations or do they collapse under the weight of their ambition?

Comprised of two expansive twenty-minute pieces, The Tree at the End of Time explores myriad textures as the movements weave in and out of free-form keyboard soundscapes and psychedelic, high-energy progressive rock jams. Dissonance is used as an accentuating feature, both in the synths (14:10 on “The Ascension of Metatron”) and in the guitars (4:30 on “The Tree”). In The Eldslunds, improvisation is the name of the game: each track moves about within a loose structure, focused more on the natural evolution of a song than on careful placement of motifs as Spife and Bælor’Throndoth play ideas off of each other. The record exudes 70s sensibilities, particularly in the fuzzy and warm production, the instrumental timbre, and in Spife’s vocal performance. Atop all this is an intricate story involving a Pishogue discovering a tree that imbues them with aeons of knowledge, cementing them as an avatar for the old gods.

Throughout both synthesized soundscapes and distorted progressive rock, the free and relaxed nature of improvisation is fully embodied across The Tree at the End of Time. Ideas introduced by Spife are allowed to stew for a few bars before Bælor’Throndoth introduces additional layers, and vice versa. Most notable is the accelerando drum buildup near the end of “The Tree”. Bælor’Throndoth smartly waits for Spife’s drum solo to culminate before releasing the tension with bright synth pads and swirling organ melodies, only to then build those into an utterly explosive finale alongside a cacophony of percussion. Additionally, the ferocious and kinetic jam at 4:20 on “The Tree” features keyboards that slowly creep in, allowing the listener to settle into the groove before being twisted into a frenetic and whining synth/guitar dance. Pishogue’s synergy is palpable across the record, as their performances show a prudence necessary to keep the loose song structures stable and cohesive. However, that doesn’t mean they restrain themselves entirely, as plenty of chaos is allowed to bleed in across both pieces in tandem with the more intense story beats. A frightening and volcanic section erupts around 12:40 of “The Ascension of Metatron”, where wailing guitars and stuttering drums are buried under harsh organ stabs, reflecting the inability of the Pishogue’s mind to comprehend the weight of The Tree’s gifted knowledge.

Whereas most prog prides itself on crystal-clear, almost clinical precision and cleanliness, Pishogue revel in an organic and raw feel that lends itself magnificently to The Tree at the End of Time’s improvisational nature. For example, the organ melody that introduces a Rush-flavored drum pattern on “The Ascension of Metatron” begins just a bit earlier than the drums, and the two fall out of lockstep for a couple of bars near the end of the first verse when briefly switching to an off-beat, but the section as a whole is so energetic and fun that the brief blemishes do little to mar the enjoyment. Where it becomes a bit more challenging to appreciate The Tree at the End of Time’s looseness is when these moments go on for too long: the organ solo at 4:50 on “Ascension” falls out of line with the drums a bit too persistently and ends up pulling me out of the experience for a moment. The track quickly pulls itself back together, though, with biting drum-bass interplay leading into a delicate and ethereal folk section. Additionally, many of the vocal performances are a little too raw and wild, particularly across “Ascension” during the blown-out and overwhelming vocals around 14:25 and the pitchy delivery in the track’s first verse. These are likely meant to represent the more fractured moments of the Pishogue’s sanity, but they are just a bit too grating in delivery; if anywhere could use some polish, it would be these sections.

Despite the occasionally eldritch soundscapes, free-form song structure, and use of dissonance, much of The Tree at the End of Time is ineffably cozy thanks to its unapologetic 70s sensibilities. The aforementioned folk section of “Ascension”, for example, features soft harmonized vocals, gently picked guitars, and wistfully delicate synth melodies not unlike the contemporary folk of the time; a playful flute dances around the section as well. Around 9:10 on “The Tree”, a fuzzy guitar melody evokes the feeling of entering an enchanted forest before leading into a triumphant solo. The more intense sections of the record often sit right alongside these more serene and bright sections, showcasing an effective compositional balance and evoking a dynamic narrative arc with logical flow.

The Tree at the End of Time shows a skillful collaboration between two artists, embracing the organic and sometimes messy nature of improvisation among monolithic symphonic prog pieces. Though a few sections could benefit from a bit of extra polish, particularly in the vocal delivery and in the rhythmic execution, much of the record effectively glides along its stream of consciousness and tells a dynamic high fantasy story.

Recommended tracks: The Tree
You may also like: Moving Gelatine Plates, We Broke The Weather, Karmic Juggernaut, David Bedford, Egg
Final verdict: 7.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Instagram

Label: Independent

Pishogue is:
– Spife (drums, guitar, bass, keyboards, violin, vocals)
– Bælor’Throndoth (bass, keyboards)

The post Review: Pishogue – The Tree at the End of Time appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Neo-prog, symphonic prog (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Yes, Steven Wilson, Marillion, Genesis, Frost*
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 28 March 2025

There’s a certain kind of excited anticipation in revisiting an artist you used to love long ago. For me, it often jogs memories of doing excessively deep musical dives while playing video games in high school in the early 2010s. One such band was IQ and their 2004 record, Dark Matter, my first foray into neo-prog and a beloved album of mine throughout high school. Unfortunately, Dark Matter got lost to the sands of time when I went to college and became tainted by the Gospel of Djent, so imagine my surprise when I saw IQ in our review queue after fifteen years with a new record called Dominion. What better time than now to catch up?

Dominion betrays an evolution in IQ’s visage only noticeable in a fifteen-year absence. There is an air of familiarity in the wispy, keyboard-led neo-prog passages that weave through compositions short and long, some generously reprising a central idea (“No Dominion”) and others throwing repetition to the wayside as they yearn to ebb and flow around a core feeling (“The Unknown Door”). “One Of Us” is a wholly acoustic piece that acts as a palate cleanser to the monstrous opening epic “The Unknown Door”, whose intro showcases a gentle acoustic section redolent of Jack Johnson. Heavier moments seldom surface, but their presence always centralizes a piece, such as the extended jam in the center of “The Unknown Door” and the pounding, kinetic drums of “Far From Here” dueling with groovy guitar work.

The ambitious song structures featured on Dominion are standard fare for IQ, but a nagging lack of direction—and occasionally, profound disinterest—pervades many of its bulkier tracks. The strongest thread holding together “The Unknown Door”, for example, is vibes, as little is working towards the track’s cohesion outside of a few vague lyrical ideas. Its middle section is quite fun, indulging in dramatic synth-prog cinematics that juxtapose against smooth and cool organ-led moments, but none of it feels particularly interconnected: you could swap around ideas or even take a couple out to the exact same effect. Additionally, the bookending eight or so minutes feel more like an exercise in excess than anything, lumbering from gentle heartfelt moment to gentle heartfelt moment. “No Dominion”, on the other hand, is much more capable of maintaining structure around its crystalline keyboards and beautifully melodic solo. Unfortunately, the track almost immediately loses the plot regardless by surrounding its keyboards with pleasant-but-toothless verses, amorphous instrumentation, and grating flickers of autotune in Peter Nicholls’ vocals. “Far From Here” succeeds the most at balancing cohesion and interest, slowly building up its relatively gritty instrumentation into a colorful crescendo across its runtime and bringing the listener down as gently as they were lifted up.

IQ try to find a happy middle ground between more concrete sentiments in their lyricism and the oblique word-painting of Jon Anderson-era Yes on Dominion. However, much of its writing sits in an uncomfortable middle ground between these two extremes, struggling to shine in either respect. Dominion’s more tasteful lyrics emerge on closer “Never Land”, nostalgically lamenting the loss of a loved one, and “Far From Here” has some admittedly fun moments in the word play ‘Right or the left brain, who’ll decide? / What if the right had nothing left / Would the left get nothing right?’ On the flip side, the verse ‘Was it always going to be how it appeared / Beneath the moonlight? / What if I had told you anything you want to hear / Would that make it all right?’ from “One of Us” is not only prosaic but also rhythmically clunky, awkwardly jammed into the track’s meter. “The Unknown Door” features lines like ‘Beyond the veil of night / Unaware anywhere, is there still time? / Won’t be long from this moment on / With two of one kind and all we leave behind’, which are encased in hopelessly elliptical symbolism.

The last synth pads of “Never Land” fade out, and for a few seconds, I look at Dominion’s cover in silence. Its heavier moments perk my ears up without much fuss, but the record leaves little impression on me due to a lack of songwriting focus in its more extended pieces and lyricism that just doesn’t work most of the time. Like a pleasant at first but ultimately uncomfortable exchange with an old friend, the connection I had with IQ as a teenager just doesn’t really hold up under current circumstances. Is there anything left to say, or should I just take my leave and move on? It is getting late, after all, and I still have some errands I need to run. Maybe in another fifteen years, IQ and I will be different again in a way that’s more similar.

Recommended tracks: Far From Here, One of Us
You may also like: Dry River, Moon Safari, Ice Age, Kyros
Final verdict: 5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Giant Electric Pea – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

IQ is:
– Peter Nicholls (vocals)
– Mike Holmes (guitars)
– Tim Esau (bass)
– Neil Durant (keyboards)
– Paul Cook (drums)

The post Review: IQ – Dominion appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Neo-prog, Symphonic Prog (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Big Big Train, Moon Safari, Alan Parsons Project
Country: Italy
Release date: 3 June 2024

After a five year wait marred by the instability of COVID and its damage to the industry, Barock Project have renewed themselves with their most cohesive and polished effort yet: Time Voyager. Barock Project was founded by multi-instrumentalist and composer Luca Zabbini in 2003 with the goal to make modernized prog rock that incorporates his classical influences, resulting in their unique brand of symphonic neo-prog. On Time Voyager, Barock Project delivers an epic time-travel themed experience that takes you far into the past and future in search of the present. 

In an interview with Euro-Rock Press, Zabbini detailed the challenges and misfortunes surrounding the previous Barock Project record, Seven Seas: their label struggled to support and promote them, and the pandemic ultimately brought their efforts to a standstill. While Time Voyager sees the return of their 2019 lineup, their drive to expand their reach internationally has given them a newfound spark of confidence and quality. Compared to my previous favorite of theirs—2015’s Skyline—Time Voyager incorporates more hook-oriented songwriting, cinematic and electronic arrangements, and varied instrumentation. Drummer Eric Ombelli also plays a greater role as a songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and co-producer.

But before diving into the songs, I need to address the album art. Midjourney, or some similar AI art tool, was clearly used to generate it; the smeared roman numerals on the clock faces and generic fantasy style are dead giveaways. The fact that a single prompt could make countless variations of the cover cheapens the experience and ultimately renders it a hollow facade. Additionally, Barock Project sidestepping the role of an artist or designer for AI is ethically troubling, especially since they’ve previously worked with many great artists (including the legendary Paul Whitehead). Maybe in ten years we’ll get a remaster with proper art. That said, there’s a silver lining: the art is the weakest aspect of Time Voyager by far.

Time Voyager is a concept album where each track represents a particular time and place throughout history, connecting to the narrative through unique meditations on the passage of time. The opener, “Carry On,” packs much variety in its six-and-a-half-minute duration and establishes the rationale for the ensuing journey with the narrator’s anxieties about the past and future. “Carry On” shows how much they’ve matured in composing and arranging with its many creative transitions and its rhythmic drive that fluidly propels the song forward. 

Another aspect of Barock Project’s maturity is their tasteful use of heavier and/or metallic sections—I can’t tell you how many run-of-the-mill neo-prog bands try to write heavy riffs that end up limp and awkward in practice. The earlier Barock Project albums certainly had moments like that (such as the most brutal metal scream of 2012), whereas on Time Voyager the heavy sections support their songs’ structures with purpose. “An Ordinary Day’s Odyssey” exemplifies this with the balance between the heavier verses with pounding bass and Alex Mari’s soaring vocals to the later parts with piano and acoustic guitar. I wasn’t too fond of “Morning Train” at first because of its repetitive and meandering first verses, and yet the later half of the track takes a hard u-turn and reframes the first verse into a hard rock section with excellent high vocal harmonies, ultimately gluing the song together.

Luca Zabbini’s arranging is the highlight of Time Voyager. He practiced and improved his production work greatly during the pandemic. “Voyager” is a marvelous track with masterful transitions. Beginning with cinematic retro sci-fi synths and continuing into heavy, technical prog sections, the track then develops into a folk acoustic section with wonderful bouzouki played by Eric Ombelli. The varied instrumentation, eight-minute duration, and unique song structure of “Voyager” makes it a bold and unconventional lead single as well as one of their greatest songs since the Skyline era. It is among the best songs I’ve heard from Barock Project. 

Aside from the unconventional lead single “Voyager,” there are two other singles: “The Lost Ship Tavern” and “Propaganda”. The former takes the listener back many hundreds of years to a seaport full of nautical lowlife characters. An anthemic song featuring Celtic-style folk sections, a bombastic classical interlude, excellent organ riffage, virtuosic vocals from Mari, and guest violinist Alessandro Bonetti (Deus Ex Machina, PFM), “The Lost Ship Tavern” is one of the most well executed songs on Time Voyager. “Propaganda,” on the other hand, was a song I didn’t feel compelled by on my first listen. Its introduction features some silky jazz saxophone from the featured guest Manuel Caliumi, yet the song itself quickly veers away from that and becomes fairly middle-of-the-road with its social commentaries on propaganda and misinformation. Its lyrics ultimately suffer from a lack of focus and a touch-and-go approach to its themes. 

The outro track, “Voyager’s Homecoming”, brings a strong conclusion to the album’s journey. Aside from featuring phenomenal prog shredding in each instrumentalist’s part, it elegantly restates and concludes the musical and poetic themes of the album. It culminates with a reprise of “Carry On” using modified lyrics to state the ultimate message of Time Voyager: even if you’re lost in time, you can always carry on in the present.

Time Voyager has frustrating elements, but the cohesion of its narrative from start to finish is one of their greatest achievements. The crisp production delivers a level of confidence and polish that I’ve been hoping for them to reach since I first heard them. For myself, this all puts it on the same level as Skyline. The return of Barock Project was worth the wait as they’ve demonstrated their newfound energy and maturity in spite of their recent misfortunes.

Recommended tracks: Carry On, Voyager, The Lost Ship Tavern
You may also like: Southern Empire, Mystery, Karfagen
Final verdict: 6.5/10 (it loses a point for the AI art)

Related links: Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

The post Review: Barock Project – Time Voyager appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Andes prog (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Premiata Forneria Marconi, Tamouz
Review by: Tim
Country: Chile
Release date: 1981

Although prog rock is a genre that originated in the Anglo-Saxon world, already from the early 1970s onward countless bands outside Great Britain and the USA integrated influences from local music traditions. In countries like Turkey (Anatolian rock), Spain (Andalusian rock / flamenco prog), India (raga rock), Indonesia (gamelan prog) and the French part of Canada (Québec prog) local scenes arose that were inspired by the first prog rock movement but all developed in a unique way. Of course, all over the world there also existed prog bands that adopted a more western sound, but the idea of the west innovating and the rest of the world imitating doesn’t do justice to all the beautiful variations of progressive music that came to life in the 1970s and later.

South America was no exception. The Peruvian Laghonia, the Brazilian Os Mutantes and Bacamarte, and the Argentinian Arco Iris and Bubu were all great bands that leaned towards the western progressive rock sound, while for example the Venezuelan Vytas Brenner, the Peruvian El Polen, and the Chilean Congreso had a stronger focus on progressive folk inspired by local traditions. The topic of our review, however, Los Jaivas, is a band that took the best from both worlds. They managed to create a unique and timeless sound that one could describe as Andes prog. In their warm and happy sound electric guitars and Fender rhodes go hand in hand with a plethora of traditional instruments. The Andes element is in a sense not traditional folk, since instruments from many parts of South-America were combined to form a new sound. Disclaimer: although Los Jaivas is well-known in Chile and therefore technically not underground, in the rest of the world it’s a different story. Therefore I think it is justified to write this Lost in Time about what I think is their best record, Alturas de Macchu Picchu (Heights of Macchu Picchu).

Alturas de Macchu Picchu is based on fellow Chilean’s Pablo Neruda’s poem from 1945 that carries the same title. The lyrics sung on the album are excerpts from that complex work, that in a nutshell criticizes the soullessness of (western) modernity and offers a solution in returning to traditional South-American culture. Machu Picchu, as it is written nowadays, is an Inca city that was discovered only centuries after the age of the conquistadores and it is therefore still relatively intact nowadays. It is therefore not very surprising it was chosen as a historical reference and in this case even the recording location, in the footsteps of Neruda, who visited Machu Picchu for inspiration over a third of a century earlier.

The introductory track “Del Aire al Aire” (From Air to Air) instantly transports the listener to between the South American mountains. Birds are singing and traditional instruments build up a mystical and somewhat ominous atmosphere. Then, in “La Poderosa Muerte” (Mighty Death) a piano section accompanies the traditional section, which grants the track phenomenal emotional depth. The woodwind section is also great, just like the great emotional yet not over-the-top singing that follows*. Yet, perhaps surprisingly, the subsequent synthesizer section might deserve the most praise. First of all, the quality of its sound, especially in 1981, is epic on both the low and high frequencies. This magical artefact just adds that extra bit of flavour to an already stunningly beautiful progressive composition. And for those who fear that the folky elements come at the expense of the rock factor: a guitar solo follows right after. This has everything. In the second half of the composition Los Jaivas switch to a ritualistic Inca interlude, while still including the piano, which at this point sounds as native to the Inca sound as potatoes are to Europeans. Finally, the song returns to its initial symphonic approach, but with new chords, new melodies, and new lyrics. What an experience! Then the last song of the A-side is “Amor Americano” (American Love), that manages to sound fun and quirky in a positive way. It is yet again a great marriage between the ancient and the modern; also, album-wise, it offers variation at the right moment.

*the lyrics being an excerpt from the poem, but it would be a farce if I claimed to know anything substantial about poetry, let alone in Spanish

The B-side opens with “Águila Sideral” (Sidereal Eagle), an initially improvised piano-bass duet that only later had drums, the singing of more of Neruda’s work, and the quena (the traditional Andean flute) added to the recording. The calming harmonies created this way are delightful, while the bass and piano keep varying intricately. Although improvised in nature, the end result stays out of free jazz waters and makes a composed impression. Afterwards, in “Antigua América” (Ancient America), the listener is welcomed with pan flutes and a quena before the prog kicks in. The drums generally serve the album’s compositions on this album, but they get a bit more room to shine here. Although this song could be described as energetic pan flute prog, surprisingly enough a harpsichord is implemented and for some odd reason it feels like it just belongs there. A brave choice by Los Jaivas!

“Sube a Nacer Conmigo Hermano” (Come Be Born With Me, Brother!) is even more full of joy and life than the previous song and that is no coincidence: the album follows the progression of Neruda’s poem. The start was emotionally neutral (from air to air), then there was sorrow, and by now a new purpose in life has been found and the sound is engulfed in sheer optimism. It’s such a pleasure to hear! Then, “Final” closes the album. It is reminiscent of the start of “La poderosa muerte”, but the mood is far more joyful here. A great end to this concept album. Although the emotional state evolves throughout Alturas de Macchu Picchu in order to really tell a story, the style itself does not start with western prog rock and ends in pure Andean folk, but rather consistently remains the best of both worlds.

In conclusion this album as a whole is phenomenal. Each individual song is not only individually strong, but also serves its purpose in the grand scheme of a story about reinventing one’s purpose in life, on both an individual and societal level. I am also happy that this album didn’t get dragged down by contemporary trends but is a timeless classic instead. Recommended for everyone who wants to feel music!

Recommended tracks: La Poderosa Muerte, Águila Sideral, Sube a Nacer Conmigo Hermano
You may also like: Bacamarte, Pesniary, Guruh Gipsy, El Polen

Related links: Spotify | Wikipedia

Overview of all involved labels: Discogs

Los Jaivas is:
– Gato Alquinta: lead vocals, electric & acoustic guitars, bass, cuatro, siku, quena, ocarina, tarka
– Eduardo Parra: Fender rhodes, Mini-Moog, tarka, handclaps
– Claudio Parra: piano, Fender rhodes, Mini-Moog, harpsichord, marimba, tarka
– Mario Mutis: bass, electric guitar, siku, quena, tarka, vocals
– Gabriel Parra: drums, chimes, marimba, timbales, bombo legüero, trutruca, tarka, handclaps, vocals

With guest artists:
– Alberto Ledo: vocals and all instruments (1): siku, trutruca, trompe, sleigh bells, bombo legüero
– Patricio Castillo: quena (4), tarka (5)

lyrics are all taken from Pablo Nerudo’s Alturas de Macchu Picchu

The post Lost in Time: Los Jaivas – Alturas de Macchu Picchu appeared first on The Progressive Subway.