Style: technical death metal (mixed vocals, mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soreption, Gorod, Rivers of Nihil
Country: Russia
Release date: 18 July 2025

Every band name ever is stupid, so as long as you aren’t a common noun/verb/adjective (Need, Oak, X) or utter nonsense that’s hard to look up or type (OU, Lyxætherivminthraxas, Xavlegbmaofff…X), you’re doing ok for yourself. And I’ll add an honorable mention for the category of band names “___ and the ____s,” my personal least favorite. Even the most legendary of bands have stupid names: Megadeth sounds like a dyslexic fifth grader named a band, and The Beatles is a cheesy pun. Every year, I find more bands to add to the “terrible band names” pile. Only halfway through this year, and I’ve already stumbled across acts like Professor Emeritus, Wyatt E., Frogg, Pissectomy, and Toughness for the first time. Next on the endless list of hilariously terrible Noun band names is Anthill. Surely they make up for the terrible title with a decent working album title, right? …Right?

Well, Russian tech death outfit Anthill have shafted themselves a little by calling their second LP Volume III (Climbing the Bone Mountain), adorned with (I believe) unintentionally phallic cover art. No matter how serious the music is—and the record has a fully fleshed out story in the lyrics telling a fantasy tale full of blood, bones, war, self-actualization, and pus—I will giggle like a seventh grader every time I think about Anthill clambering up boner mountain. But alas, this is supposed to be a music review and not an album title one, so I’m happy to report Anthill‘s music is miles better than their christening abilities.

Anthilov’s guitar playing is incredibly intricate in contorted patterns and odd rhythms, with full-bodied basslines weaving their way into the heart of the riffs and dynamic drumming underneath it all. All in all, Volume III (Climbing the Bone Mountain) is everything you can ask for as far as working man’s tech death goes. He shows off elite skill with his fretboard, the riffs hammering away with little disregard for anything but virile technicality with Soreption-esque groove. He incorporates many techniques like the sleek trem-picking at the end of “At the Foothill” to fast alternate picking at 3:40 in “III Trail (Withered Trees),” one of the strongest riffs on the album. The real star of Anthilov’s riff-writing capabilities is the manner in which the guitar and bass interact, switching between who carries the melody and who the harmony repeatedly, the interplay consistently reminding me of “Lay Your Ghosts to Rest” by Between the Buried and Me throughout the album.

As a tech death album, I’d hope the performances are killer, though, so how are the other aspects of the music? Riding… er, Climbing the Bone Mountain is produced with a DIY charm, and Anthill avoids pretty much all tech death production pitfalls; Anthilov’s tones are dirty enough to not be sterile yet they remain also crisp, and the bass fills out the bottom of the mix without being lost. Unfortunately, Anthill run into several problems with songwriting—namely, they cannot naturally transition between riffs or ideas, often due to awkward time signature changes. The songs therefore quickly devolve into an endless string of spaffed out notes at rapid speed, and after a couple dozen riffs without creating any sort of theme, the guitar parts completely lose me in their knottiness, compounded by a lack of any cohesion in the songwriting. Everything blurs together. The brief moments that change up the speedy, tech death pace are the record’s most mediocre parts, too, including inoffensive but bland spoken word (“I Trail (Smoldering Torches),” unrefined clean vocals (“II Trail (Magic Mirrors)”), and a wholly disappointing cello solo from Orgone’s cellist that just doesn’t fit the vibe of the track (“III Trail (Withered Trees)”), seeming supplanted on top of the riff rather than being actually integrated into the meat of the song. The only change in pace that really works is the brief interlude/intro track “Crossroads. Intro,” a lovely solo piano piece setting the stage for the second half of the album. 

Despite demonstrating promising talent with their fingers, I don’t think Anthill will be the cause for many bone mountains yet. Thankfully, headbanging is more of a guarantee, and digging into the more intricate riffs has proved enjoyable even if forty-four minutes of them straight has my eyes glazing over, metaphorically. In a scene with competition as stiff as tech death, Anthill needs to keep at it if he wants any chance of mounting the tip, the zenith of the genre. And remember, kids: don’t use an Anthill as a fleshlight, even if you can’t get someone to summit your bone mountain.

Recommended tracks: At the Foothill, Crossroads, V Trail (Apogee of Enmity)
You may also like: Sentiment Dissolve, Carnosus, Inanimate Existence, Coexistence
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: independent

Anthill is:
– Artem Anthilov (guitars, vocals, bass)
– Evgeny Nesterov (bass)
– Andrey Litvinenko, Alexander Kasiarum, Ivan Korniienko (bass)
With guests:
Stephen Jarrett (Orgone) – backing vocals in I, II and V Trail, Intro to Crossroads.
Chris Bradley (Beneath the massacre) – guest guitar solo in Crossroads.
Denis Shvarts (Dark Matter Secret) – guest guitar solo in IV Trail.
Andrey Matchtevelov – guest cello solo in III Trail.

The post Review: Anthill – Volume III (Climbing the Bone Mountain) appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Dmitry Rogatnev

Style: Avant-garde Metal, Brutal Death Metal, Deathgrind, Jazz Fusion (Harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Cattle Decapitation, The Number Twelve Looks Like You, The Red Chord, Pathology
Country: Russia
Release date: 13 June 2025

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you took insanely technical deathgrind, the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack, and a smoky jazz joint on the harbor, then shot them through the musical equivalent of whatever hellish industrial-grade contraption processes chum? Me neither, but apparently ByoNoiseGenerator did. These unhinged Russians have crawled out from the briny depths of Perm Krai after seven years away, dripping seaweed and sheathed in the viscera of multitudinous aquatic horrors, bludgeoned into pulp and ready to serve via the stern and merciless hand of avant-garde deathgrind. Break out your bibs and fetch the butter—time to chow down on the band’s third LP, Subnormal Dives.

To anyone expecting the sultry and sophisticated sax-stylings of say, a Rivers of Nihil or Sleep Token, you may want to get back in your dinghy and row for the nearest opposite coastline. ByoNoiseGenerator, true to their name, are out here dropping sonic depth charges loaded to the gills with pure aural madness. Grooving slam breakdowns (“NULL.state = PERMANENT; return VOID;“), Primus-esque guitar funkery (“NoSuccessToday!”),  and skull-pulping grindcore all shoot through violent streaks of freeform jazz both manic and moody—often within the confines of the same track. For the first nine minutes,¹ ByoNoiseGenerator keep the pressure building as they cram multiple songs’ worth of ideas into tracks that nary crack the three minute mark. The band pull the listener deeper and deeper into this Subnormal Dive, gleefully assaulting our ears with a smorgasbord of hyper-processed violence perhaps only meant for the deepest of undersea dwellers.

It’s not until “LoveChargedDiveBombs” that we receive any surcease from ByoNoiseGenerator’s bio-organic brutality, with gentle radar pings, feathering drum and bass, and flickering saxophone doots creating an almost pleasant atmosphere. Denigrating chaos returns soon after via trampling blast beats and vocalist Tim’s inhuman growls, but the preceding forty-five seconds go a surprisingly long way towards letting me catch my breath before the band force me back underwater. The choice to slow things down in the song’s back half, showcases how—when it fancies them—ByoNoiseGenerator are capable of creating some rather captivating stretches of music. This characteristic defines more than a few songs across the platter (“Eb(D#),” “I’mNot20Anymore (21Ne),” “4-HO-DMTNzambiKult,”), and the band often nail the transitions in spite of the general atmosphere of mad-cap insanity and sonic whiplash that underscores their efforts.

Elsewhere and everywhere across Subnormal Dives, however, chaos reigns supreme. For twenty-three minutes, ByoNoiseGenerator toss and tumble the listener across heinous tempo and stylistic changes that would give even the most seasoned diver the bends. Songs are less-definable by any idea of coherent structure, and more by what fleeting strips of music that may qualify as identifiable (and palatable) to you. For my money, I love when the band cut away the deathgrind to revel in the smoky notes of playful saxophone and fluttering cymbal work that give Subnormal Dives its Bebop aesthetic. Whether that’s the funky drum-and-bass sections (“4-HO-DMTNzambiKult,” “deBroglieNeverExisted”) or back alley neo-noir vibes (“LoveChargedDiveBombs,” “5mgInspiredVibes”), these parts stand out as highlights of ByoNoiseGenerator’s glittering talent. For others, that satisfaction may come from the relentless grindcore butchery staining every cut.

Wherever you land, Subnormal Dives is a journey taken with the highest of caution. Even well-adjusted metalheads may struggle to decipher the band’s non-euclidean configurations, driven mad instead by ByoNoiseGenerator’s insistence on an almost blink-and-you’ll-miss-it approach to songcraft. There’s something to be said for not beating a motif, riff, etc. to death, but the opposite holds true, too. Take the scraping death metal ebb and flow at 1:38 in “IQ69Exaltations,” which serves well in hooking the listener—but just as you’re really starting to nibble, the moment is gone, a fish fry-flash in the pan, and we’re on to new flavors. Fortunately, with grindcore you’re never in for that long of a haul. Subnormal Dives’ twenty-three minutes fly by like a marlin on a mission. And when shit is this gleefully unhinged, it’s hard not to have a good time. Just… maybe don’t ask how they make the fish stix.

Recommended tracks: Eb(D#), LoveChargedDiveBombs, deBroglieNeverExisted, 5mgInspiredVibes
You may also like: Blastanus, Malignancy, DeathFuckingCunt, Diskord, Veilburner, Bloody Cumshot
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Transcending Obscurity Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

ByoNoiseGenerator is:
– M1t (bass)
– NOx (drums)
– Tim (vocals)
– HaL° (guitars)
– Sh3la (saxophone)

1.  That’s five whole tracks here. Grindcore is wild, I tell yah what. ︎

The post Review: ByoNoiseGenerator – Subnormal Dives appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: modern classical, jazz fusion, progressive rock, folk, new age, minimalism (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of:  Ludovico Einaudi, Tigran Hamasyan, Phillip Glass, the chill space-y songs of the Mario Galaxy soundtrack
Country: Russia/United Kingdom
Release date: 28 February 2025

At the blog, we all have our niches. Claire has started her journey here as the foreign language expert; Zach is the prog death king; say the word “neofolk” and Dave is chomping at the bit. I am the weird avant-garde metal guy, so that I’m also the de facto Iamthemorning coverer is probably a surprise. Despite their dark Victorian lyricism, the chamber prog duo are light and fluttery with Gleb Kolyadin’s piano skills the defining instrumental aspect of the band: he’s easily ranked among the best piano players in prog since Iamthemorning’s 2012 debut. After covering their debut in a Lost in Time piece, as well as Marjana Semkina’s¹ solo work, Chris handed me the reins to cover Kolyadin’s third solo album².

With his distinct levity and minimalist classical-with-jazz fusion style, Mobula isn’t a surprising album from Kolyadin, but he changes things up enough from The Outland to make this record stand apart. Rather than playing with a small handful of lengthier, cohesive tracks as he did in 2023, Kolyadin presents Mobula as a series of musical vignettes—fourteen tracks with only one cresting five minutes. Each one unfurls like a short sci-fi poem, but I struggle to find a throughline: some tracks are proggy and orchestrated (“Parallax,” “Fractured,” “Tempest”) while others are Kolyadin alone playing a hundred year old grand piano (“Crystalline,” “Nebular”). Both styles are successful, but the tracklist bears an underlying tension, detracting from the experience of what on the surface is a peacefully atmospheric record.

Kolyadin flaunts his mastery of space across Mobula. On “Glimmer” he begins with a simple minimalist arpeggio which expands to build the universe out of a chord; the grand piano on “Crystalline” has endless depth, Kolyadin’s thoughtful use of silence and the sustain pedal engrossing; and the tricky buildup of “Tempest” creates an epic, giant sound in a crescendo barely lasting 2:30. Kolyadin’s greatest skill on Mobula is his less-is-more approach. Even when songs become more complicated—whether incorporating fretless bass, new age-y flute, or Evan Carson’s percussion—one can easily trace a lineage of their purpose in the song. Mobula features nothing superfluous, and Kolyadin is a uniquely thoughtful composer in the prog world. 

The production on Mobula is expansive, filling my headphones with its range of sounds. However, in its atmosphere, the production often seems reverberant and detached, particularly when Kolyadin is alone with the keys. Although capturing something beautiful in a deeply nostalgic way³, the sound isolates the piano from the listener instead of creating an intended sense of tranquil loneliness. The production negatively affects both the guitar and the flute, as well, with the former often a bit shrill during its extended notes and the latter often cheapened to sound like a recorder playing new age (particularly noticeable on “Radiant”).

Although Mobula’s format doesn’t work as well as The Outland’s more traditional structuring, another album focused on these shorter tracks from the poloniumcubes (which is a musical diary for Kolyadin containing over five hundred of these short-form pieces) is an intriguing prospect. With a dozen different concepts, Mobula still has fantastic successes across its less traditional album structure. As mentioned before, “Tempest” is a masterclass in short-form crescendo; the mixing of fretless bass and piano on “Parallax” is unusual but delightful; and intricate finger-picked guitar and violin on “Fractured” support that Kolyadin can successfully extrapolate his unique piano style to other instruments. My problem with Mobula boils down to curation more than anything wrong with the individual tracks, although several feel like half-fleshed ideas—which makes sense as this is the releasing of a musical diary. 

Coming from a genre so focused on maximalism, Kolyadin continues his case that a thoughtfully minimalist approach can be as triumphant as the best of the maximalists. Even though I’m not as impressed with Mobula as with his previous works, Gleb Kolyadin is guaranteed to elicit the most beautiful and expansive sounds possible from any piano he lays his deft fingers on.

Recommended tracks: Afterglow, Crystalline, Fractured, Tempest
You may also like: Marjana Semkina, Iamthemorning, Evan Carson, Secludja, John D. Reedy
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: KScope – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Gleb Kolyadin is:
Gleb Kolyadin – grand piano, keyboards
Evan Carson – percussion
Vlad Avy – electric guitar (1, 4, 7, 13)
Ford Collier – low whistles (2, 5, 7, 12), bansuri (5) and bombarde (12)
Liam McLaughlin – electric guitar (10, 12)
Zoltan Renaldi – bass (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 12), upright bass (12)
Charlie Cawood – acoustic & classical guitar, glockenspiel, guzheng, zither, electric kalimba, taishogoto, bow guitar (4, 9)
PJ Flynn – bass (3)
Henry Isaac Bristow – violin (9)
Ilya Izmaylov – cello (1)
Mr Konin – electronic rhythms

1. The other half of Iamthemorning ︎
2. As he covered Kolyadin’s previous album The Outland ︎
3. I cannot help but compare the intensity of atmosphere on a track like “Observer” with the feeling of desolation on a lonely planet in Mario Galaxy ︎

The post Review: Gleb Kolyadin – Mobula appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Pop Metal, AOR (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Voyager, Ghost, The Night Flight Orchestra, Devin Townsend
Country: Russia
Release date: 16 August 2024

Here at the Subway, many of the underground artists we cover are solo projects, in which a single scrappy visionary crafts a work entirely of their own making. Impressive as this is, there are a few pitfalls that can befall such albums. Paradoxically, the lack of additional musical perspectives can often make the music more scattershot and eclectic; without any other musicians or writers in the mix, there’s nobody to offer pushback or compromise to any sonic tangents their mind may go down. This can work well depending on the level of execution, but even the most talented solo musicians have the occasional ill-advised misfire. Upon looking at the promo sheet for the latest offering from St. Petersburg’s own Egor Lappo and seeing everything from “90s industrial” to Britney Spears namechecked as influences, I was intrigued, yet worried that it may collapse under the weight of its own eclecticism. Its very title presents the line it has to thread: can it pull all of this Nonsense together in a way that is even close to Reasonable?

Fortunately, the writing on display here offers a pretty good case for a “yes,” thanks largely to a surprisingly strong commitment to a clear core musical identity. Said identity is a gleaming, pop-metal alloy with just enough nods to the sonic tropes of prog to have the less-elitist fans of the genre nodding along; one that fans of bands like Voyager will find comfortingly familiar. From the very first in medias res chorus hit of opener “Recurring Dreams”, it’s obvious that Lappo has polished everything here to a smooth, glittery sheen. A clean, effervescent layer of ’80s-inspired synths floats on top, while guitars provide tastefully soaring leads and sufficiently meaty rhythm work alike to keep things pushing forward. The programmed drums fit neatly into the mix without sounding unduly fake, and there’s even a pleasant amount of bass presence that pops out during the verses. It’s a well-executed thesis statement that lays the foundation for the more diverse tracks that follow.

And follow they do, branching out in a myriad of directions while never straying too far from that clean-cut core. There are a couple of heavier cuts to be found, such as “Where Nothing Exists”, a Devin Townsend-esque combo of widescreen, synth-fueled grandiosity with crunchy guitars and blast beats, or “Shy-Hearted,” whose speedy riffs cross the line into straight-up thrash. Conversely, some other tracks lean harder towards the pop side of things. “Break the Spell” is where the Britney influence comes in, a shockingly catchy tune whose chorus almost resembles “Oops! … I Did It Again,” but with heavier guitar; meanwhile closer “Bloodline” is a straightforward, lighters-in-the-air power ballad that exudes raw hope and optimism. Add in a couple more stylish swerves in sound, such as the absolute ’80s AOR banger that is “Light Pollution” and the brief but solidly made prog instrumental of the title track, and you’ve got a strong balance between diversity and consistency. At any given moment, whether Lappo is taking his cues from headbangers or teenyboppers, the guitars are muscular, the synths are twinkly, and the melody is front and center.

Still, though the production may be polished and pristine, not every aspect of Reasonable Nonsense is quite as clean. An album this hook-centric lives and dies by its melodic lines, and while for the most part they’re lively and bright, a few come uncomfortably close to a flatline. The weakest of them comes in “Falling,” which repeats the opener’s starting-with-the-chorus trick with severely diminishing returns, along with a number of more minor moments where the melody feels like it should move, but doesn’t, and it makes the sound come off as a bit bland. This leads me to the other major issue here, one that many solo projects share: that while Mr. Lappo is a talented instrumentalist and producer, his vocal work isn’t quite as impressive. To be fair, he’s not a bad singer by any stretch; he hits the notes and hits them cleanly. But while his nasal tone and relatively flat affectation may work fine in some dull, Porcupine Tree-aping, prog/post-rock group, it lacks the charisma and verve necessary for a sound this steeped in pop, metal, and AOR. As it turns out, a downside to making “Light Pollution” sound like an unreleased Night Flight Orchestra single is that I’m constantly thinking of how much better it would sound if Björn Strid were singing it. There’s clearly effort here– you can hear Lappo straining to put more bite into his voice in “Shy Hearted”– but the overall impression there is that the punchy thrash riffs are writing checks that his vocals just can’t cash. It’s not as if he lacks the ability, either; the end of “Recurring Dreams” and the midpoint of “Light Pollution” have some genuinely impressive wails that I wish he would explore more. But until he can truly unleash his inner Devy, the vocal work will remain a bit of a sore spot.

Reasonable Nonsense is, in many ways, a very impressive album. It’s a scrappy, independent solo record that manages to sound as lavish as any major-label offering. It folds in wildly disparate influences in a way that makes them feel like fresh, distinct locales on the same overarching journey. And the tunes on display are, for the most part, fun, vibrant, and engaging. Yet it doesn’t quite reach the dizzying heights of the sounds it aims for. Many of the stylistic shifts here, while very entertaining and seamlessly integrated, can’t quite reach beyond the realms of well-executed pastiche. And when said execution begins to stall somewhat in the songwriting or vocal departments, there isn’t much other than shiny instrumental production to fall back on. Lappo is a prolific guy, though, having released four albums in as many years, and seems dedicated to improving his craft. I’m sure, sooner rather than later, he’ll be back with a stronger effort at putting all his musical nonsense into a reasonable whole.

Recommended tracks: Recurring Dreams, Break the Spell, Where Nothing Exists, Light Pollution
You may also like: Toehider, Kyros, Mothman and the Thunderbirds
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook

Egor Lappo is:
– Egor Lappo (all instruments, vocals, and production)

The post Review: Egor Lappo – Reasonable Nonsense appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Prog rock, chamber folk, chamber pop, post-rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Caspian, Kate Bush
Country: Russia (based out of United Kingdom)
Release date: 31 May 2024

In a musical career narrating mental illness (Lighthouse), dead victorian girls and premature burials (~), twisted fairytale retellings (The Bell), and death, mortality, and regret (Sleepwalking), one cannot help but recognize a consistent weaving of tragedy underpinning Marjana Semkina’s lyrics. Relocating to the United Kingdom in 2020, and with Semkina’s homeland Russia’s escalation of an ongoing conflict with Ukraine in February of 2022, she bravely stood against Russia, leading her to raise funds for victims of the war and participate in protests; this also prevents her from returning to St. Petersburg lest she be imprisoned. Then once she and her longtime bandmate in Iamthemorning, Gleb Kolyadin, had comfortably moved to London, Kolyadin was arrested in Thailand under threat of deportation back to  Russia. Unsurprisingly then, Semkina’s second solo LP’s lyrics have a noticeable shift from the dark fairytales of past albums with Iamthemorning to darker realities. She won’t be complicit with the state of the world.

The sirin, a harbinger of bad luck in Slavic mythology, mourns for humankind, and the grief of the titular creature seeps through the album like oil out of Norilsk. Utilizing post-rock’s crescendos in miniature packages, Sirin’s compositions follow a predictable—though repeatedly successful—pattern from morose acoustic section with her distinct, airy vocals to powerful, orchestrated climaxes. She sings more assuredly than ever before; her breathy falsettos are no longer meek, and her near-belting has a rich timbre—I don’t know that ~ era Semkina could have sung like she does on “Pygmalion,” her once dainty and shy voice having only gotten stronger without losing any of her unique style.

On a smaller scale, Sirin is also Semkina’s highest compositional achievement. Her orchestration and instrumental ornamentation have triply increased in complexity—with a full string quartet, prog rock band, and even some extras like glockenspiel and hammered dulcimer. Yet as always for a Semkina project, Sirin rarely feels dense. Except for in the most extreme of climaxes on the album like “Death and the Maiden” or “Lost But at Peace,” Semkina’s voice blooms above all like a colorful fairy princess in a gloomy forest (unless, of course, the instrumentation takes a lead, like the isolated cello on “Swan Song” or the tense, glimmering post-rock tremolos of “Angel Street”). In those more explosive moments of action, Semkina deftly writes deceptively complex chamber folk, similar to Musk Ox in intensity and beauty, produced perfectly, as well. The strings sound exactingly human with the friction of the bows, the bass parts tie in with their delicate power, and the cheeky use of synths in a folk project act as a soundscape for pensive reflection, especially on finale “This Silence This Dreaming” which extinguishes slowly like the final orange coughs of an ember. 

The group of musicians Semkina has assembled to complete Sirin are nothing short of phenomenal, complimenting Semkina’s own vocal and guitar talents. Starting on opener “We Are the Ocean,” we’re treated with the dopamine-inducing guitar solo of Liam McLaughlin (Sithu Aye)—much more technical and intricate than I imagined a Marjana Semkina album to feature but wonderfully fitting nonetheless. Perhaps the strongest tracks on the album are “Anything But Sleep” and “Death and the Maiden,” featuring Jim Grey (Caligula’s Horse) and Mick Moss (Antimatter), respectively. The two men have drastically different voices, but each fit in with Semkina’s, highlighting different aspects of her voice. Grey’s dreamy falsetto has a similar timbre as Semkina’s typical breathiness but at a lower range, and the two gracefully lead the song through its dark fantasy. Mick Moss, on the other hand, sounds like Eddie Vedder (Pearl Jam) with a fuller, lower voice, and his powerful leads on “Death and the Maiden” are an emotional highlight of Sirin, exchanging the vocal climax for an instrumental back-half of the track which also features one of the strongest emotional moments of the album. 

Unable to return home, Semkina crafts an album stunning in its emotional depth, reflecting on personal and worldwide tragedy. There are glimmers of hope as a byproduct of how gorgeous many of the arrangements are, but by the final notes of “This Silence This Dreaming” and the silence after, little optimism remains. Semkina has created a harrowing album; you can hear the sirin’s cry echoing.

Recommended tracks: We Are the Ocean, Anything But Sleep, Death and the Maiden
You may also like: Iamthemorning, Gleb Kolyadin, Musk Ox
Final verdict: 9/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: independent

Marjana Semkina is:
– Marjana Semkina – vocals, guitar
– Grigoriy Losenkov – piano, bass guitar, synths, drum programming
– Vlad Avy – electric guitar, synths, drum programming
– Keli Guðjónsson – drums 
– Charlie Cawood – acoustic guitar, bouzouki, glockenspiel, hammered dulcimer, luiqin, guzheng
– Liam McLaughlin – electric guitar
– Margarita Chernyshevskaya – 1st Violin 
– Petr Chepelev  – 2nd Violin 
– Julia Uliashcenkova – Viola 
– Julia Romashko – Cello
– Jim Grey – vocals on Anything But Sleep
– Mick Moss – vocals on Death and the Maiden

The post Review: Marjana Semkina – Sirin appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Genres: progressive rock, chamber pop, chamber folk (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Oceansize, Ludovico Einaudi, Riverside, Sigur Ros
Country: Russia
Release date: 27 April 2012

Some artists are so iconic they don’t even need an album cover: think Metallica or The Beatles. Their work speaks for itself by their pedigree of brilliance—the music speaks for itself in these instances, not needing any additional context. Likewise, the symbol as an album title is a bold way to eschew listener expectations, such as Sigur Ros’s ( ), allowing the music to inform perception rather than external aesthetic decision. Thus,  ~ is a curious and extremely bold title for a debut album, alluring in its neutral minimalism. Similar to their Icelandic forebears, Iamthemorning wanted to let their music speak for itself without preconceived notions of the sound, to judge them by their music alone. The music within ~ does so with delicateness and grace to be full of delightful levity.

The duo behind Iamthemorning—Marjana Semkina (vocals) and Gleb Kolyadin (piano)—met in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 2010 and named their project after a track on Oceanside’s debut album, but the two are now based in the United Kingdom after the recent political turmoil in Eastern Europe. Each possesses an amazing penchant for crafting deceptively simple songs which unveil their complexity on further listens. Moreover, their styles blend together seamlessly, along with the other guest musicians on violin, viola, cello, bass, guitars, and drums to come together into a complete, chamber ensemble soundscape. Semkina’s vocals have an unusual airiness in her soft voice, effortlessly floating above the sea of music underneath her. The lyricism stands in stark contrast to the airy delivery, though, as she sings of “dead victorian girls and premature burials,” providing a haunting atmosphere, surprising considering ~’s elegance. Her counterpart and co-writer in Iamthemorning, Kolyadin uses his composition and performative skills—he is an accomplished classically trained pianist, after all—to provide a sensible backdrop for Semkina’s shied, beautiful voice. Often performing simple, postminimalist variations on a theme for swaths of any given track, Kolyadin frequently switches quite seamlessly into richer, full-bodied classical- and jazz-influenced playing. Semkina sometimes follows Kolyadin’s lead into a more dramatically intense style (like in “Burn,” “Scotland,” and “Monsters”), though she also remains in her breathier range to provide some playful contrast at times (“Circles,” “Serenade,” and “Afis”). That the duo can practically function as an extension of one another on a debut album is incredibly impressive, but the two have a chemistry on ~ few musicians are able to achieve.

The production, cozy and warm, adds another element to the duo’s intricate dance. Despite Semkina’s soft delivery, her vocals shine through in the mix and are especially amplified in the occasional harmonizing rounds she does with herself, prominent in the intermission tracks (particularly I, III, and VI) and “Afis.” When the host of other performers join in with the duo, none overwhelm the main duo, and “heavier” tracks like “Burn” and “Monsters” include drumming which almost feels like a gentle caressing with the drumsticks rather than a normal rock style, a gentle pitter-patter like rain with the stick clicks and syncopated grooves. Even with other performers, the duo remain the driving force with the strings and electric instruments only adding texture to amplify Kolyadin and Semkina to greater heights, especially notable on “Inside” where the guitar almost sounds like a sitar and in “Monsters” with its distinct rising viola runs to help Kolyadin in boosting up Semina’s most full-chested vocals on ~. When the small ensemble achieves these bombastic moments, the death and pain underlying the themes of Iamthemorning seep through, and the post rock-esque crescendos in the track structures substantially help hammer home the intense emotions behind the album.

One may be inclined to think with that cast of instruments that ~ is stereotypically proggy: it’s anything but except for in spirit. Iamthemorning draw from pop in their track structures and from chamber folk in their textures, but their bursts of rock and varying soundscapes end up culminating into a strikingly progressive overall sound, truly forward thinking for the scene. Moreover, angelic and alluring, Semkina’s voice is fresh in a masculine dominated scene, and her unique style pushes an album such as ~ to be even more memorable and essential in the overall progressive world. With Kolyadin’s ever-evolving piano lines, the whole project bleeds of restrained virtuosity.

Since ~, Iamthemorning have upped their progressive tendencies, adding a late-era Riverside influence into their chamber folk basis, but the melodies on ~ have a brilliance in simplicity that stands out even in their stellar discography, bouncing around in my head for the rest of eternity in their restrained, delicate movements. Few other artists fill this niche, and Iamthemorning tapped into a sound that is accessible and beautiful: this album started it all for one of modern progressive rock’s most unique acts—it’s criminal they’re even underground enough for me to cover with their blend of victorian stylings with pop, classical, jazz, folk, and, of course, prog rock. ~ is currently name your price on Bandcamp, and I strongly encourage every reader to go check it out immediately.

Recommended tracks: Inside, Burn, Weather Changing, Monsters, Would This Be
You may also like: Gleb Kolyadin, Exploring Birdsong, Mariana Semkina, Raphael Weinroth-Browne, Haralabos Stafylakis

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Kscope – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Iamthemorning is:
– Marjana Semkina (vocals)
– Gleb Kolyadin (piano)

The post Lost in Time: Iamthemorning – ~ appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Progressive Rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Porcupine Tree, Riverside, Anathema, Soen
Review by: Doug
Country: Russia
Release date: 20 April, 2023

Founded by singer, guitarist, and keyboardist Fedor Kivokurtsev, Echoes and Signals boast a widely varied past discography connected mainly by beautiful and surreal cover artwork, each album departing musically in some way from what defined the one before. I came into this album familiar with the band – carried by songs like “Broken Machine” and “Tower,” their previous release Mercurial offered some of the best heavy prog rock I’ve heard in years. Lunar, of course, brings with it another shift in style. Its lighter and more ghostly tone offers less contrast than some of Kivokurtsev’s prior adjustments, but nevertheless the new features shape this album into a distinct experience from all its predecessors.

The first two full-length tracks “The Witching Hour” and “Lunar” quickly highlight what works and what doesn’t in this new approach. The former song constructs an ethereal curtain around itself, stirred gently by the rising and falling of its phrases; the latter flounders amidst repetitive and aimless motifs punctuated occasionally by synth lines that sound like tension-mounting stings from a corny ‘70s sci-fi series with only a budget for paper-mâché and food dye (and I should know, I’ve watched every episode of Doctor Who). Although “The Witching Hour” never quite matches the tight-strung intensity that drew me so strongly to Mercurial, it does effectively demonstrate what Lunar offers with its new approach – more mystery, more subtlety, and more synth to surround the audience in chilled, ghostly atmosphere like a musical fog machine.

“The Witching Hour” is not the only successful showing of Echoes and Signals’s new style – “Mana” and “Gravity” both expand upon it in longer form – but unfortunately the rest of the album follows the title track’s shaky lead more than it sticks to what works. Nearly every song wallows here or there in phrases and riffs that repeat too much; any given line may start from a good idea, but few of them improve with more use. At least for me personally, this strengthens the link to Porcupine Tree, though not in a good way: I find that PT run afoul of similar bouts of repetitive composition, and for both bands it hampers their development of mood and expression of message, while others among their genre peers (Riverside, for one) consistently deepen the listener’s experience with precise pacing and musical development.

Where the music’s mood is driven by dark, pulsing bass and rhythm guitar rather than high and bright chords from the synth or lead guitar, its presentation is much more effective. In these moments, even the semi-cheesy synth warbling finds a home, fully embracing its ghostly timbre and inheriting the weight of the rhythm parts being played underneath instead of being trapped in the clichéd legacy of late-20th-century instrumental fads. The frantic 11/8 intro and initial buildup of “Cinders” shows off all the precise, technical execution and emotionally evocative finesse that first impressed me from Echoes and Signals – only for it to be squandered as the second half shifts to syncopated yet clunky 4/4 time with too many different aesthetics fighting for center stage. Like most of the disappointing moments throughout the album, that back section is catchy, but not as lasting and substantial in its impact as I know this artist can achieve.

Experimentation allows evolution, and Echoes and Signals are no strangers to either. This latest evolution shows promise, hanging onto a partial core of what succeeded before, but doesn’t integrate the newest experimental elements well enough to repeat the same success. In too many places to list, what starts as a promising development gets bogged down in generic cycles that spin in place, shedding all their built-up momentum and leaving the audience listening to almost as much noise as signal.

Recommended tracks: The Witching Hour, Mana, Gravity
You may also like: Sisare, Hillward, Derev
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | YouTube | Facebook | Instagram
Label: Independent

Echoes and Signals is:
– Fedor Kivokurtsev (vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Alexey Zaytsev (bass)
– Alexander Kulkov (drums)

The post Review: Echoes and Signals – Lunar appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Progressive Rock, Post-Metal (mixed vocals, majority clean; Russian lyrics)
Recommended for fans of: Riverside, Porcupine Tree, Toundra, Kingcrow
Review by: Doug
Country: Russia
Release date: 13 January, 2023

The age of digital music brings both boon and bane to our great community. Although commercial online platforms like Spotify doubtless carry negative influences as they demand hefty revenue cuts and push more aggressive release schedules with algorithmic discovery, they equally enable artists to share music with unparalleled ease and reach. Karma Rassa, like many underground bands, have settled into that digitally-enabled niche, taking the opportunity to develop their art through four album releases over a nine-year period, never gathering widespread attention despite their steady improvement in that time. Khmel’, the latest of these albums, demonstrates both the band’s continued development and their resilience when faced with little metric recognition from these all-consuming platforms.

Although not as great a step forward as 2018’s Vesna…Snova Vesna was for the band, Khmel’ upholds Snova Vesna’s tight production and performance, making them sound in many ways like a more professional group with more resources to flex than they have in truth. They also experiment with instrumentation, making wider use of saxophone (“Drevesa,” “A Cosmic Laughter,” “Khmel’”) and violin (“The Unprecedentedness”) as well as implementing a variety of synth effects. This leads to a more diverse sound across the album, but also a less consistent and focused one. Where Snova Vesna carried a consistently captivating and ethereal-edged tone, Khmel’ is not so steady in its presentation; although the increased variety shows more developed talent from the performers, that talent is also let down by the album’s low points (such as “Fathers” and “Yelikamni”) where the atmosphere doesn’t come together as strongly.

Where, then, do Karma Rassa shine? Their primary approach is a piano-peppered heavy progressive rock sound delicately straddling the boundary with progressive metal (especially in certain songs like “The One Who Chews the Sea”) blended with light post-rock effects that lend their music an airy atmosphere. In the songs where these fundamentals feature most, like “The One Who Chews the Sea” and “A Cosmic Laughter,” the balance of opposing high and low energy elements settles the music into a compelling energetic-but-soothing groove. Those tracks more directly build upon the band’s musical lineage to present something novel, but still just as engaging as their prior albums – if not moreso.

In the interim sections of the album, however, melodies and atmosphere alike get bogged down in unexciting, repetitive motifs which develop little throughout each song and certainly don’t demonstrate the band members’ skills to their fullest extent. Gone is the serene balance of heavy and soft; no longer does singer Nagual’s voice settle cleanly in between the layers of music, a bridge uniting the band’s unique blend of styles into a clear and consistent presentation of artistry. Instead, the musical thread frays, its parts standing separately, weakened by their disunity. None of it is awful – nothing so dramatic. But I know Karma Rassa are capable of a lot of impressive things, and it’s disappointing to see that capability not fully realized.

If the whole album were as focused as its highlight moments, the increased level of polish might have carried this to be Karma Rassa’s best release yet. While this unfortunately isn’t the case, Khmel’ nevertheless delivers quality and engaging music put together by a lesser-known group with outsized talent. Karma Rassa synthesize elements of various styles into a combinatorial form all their own, and while I prefer when they have confidence in that style and allow its focused expression to speak for itself, I can’t deny that I enjoyed my time exploring this album and its new directions.

Recommended tracks: The One Who Chews the Sea, Drevesa, A Cosmic Laughter, The Unprecedentedness
You may also like: In the Silence, Echoes and Signals, Chaos Divine, Early Cross
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | YouTube | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives page
Label: Independent

Karma Rassa is:
– Nagual (vocals, bass, acoustic guitars, russian harp, keyboards, additional sounds)
– Naar (guitars)
– Idegen (guitars, saxophone)
– Albe (drums)
With guests:
– Maria Lebedeva (violin, “The Unprecedentedness”)
– Ivan & Vasya (choir; “Fathers”, “Honey of the Universe”, “A Cosmic Laughter”, “Drevesa” )
– Grand Awakener (choir, “Drevesa”)
– Nikolay Skripnick (spoken word, “Drevesa”)
– Serezha Eremishin (spoken word, “A Cosmic Laughter”)

The post Review: Karma Rassa – Khmel’ appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Post-Metal, Sludge Metal (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, Cult of Luna
Review by: Christopher
Country: Russia
Release date: 31 January, 2023

December to January is the doldrums for reviewing. This is the time when sites put together their AOTY lists, and bands know to steer clear. Releasing in December risks listeners not having enough time to get acquainted with your new work, and releasing in January gives them too much time to forget you before the next winter comes. Finding good releases over the pre/post-yuletide season can be a challenge; it’s not every year that Wilderun go and drop a January masterpiece. 

Ypres are a Russian quartet specialising in sludgy post-metal somewhat like that of The Ocean and Cult of Luna, and Solypso is their second full-length album. Now I will emphasise here that Ypres aren’t particularly proggy, they don’t claim to be, and I’m not touting them as a progressive post-metal group. However, as someone who generally doesn’t gel with post-metal unless it has a big infusion of progressive composition style, Ypres proved unexpectedly engaging to me, and I think an argument can be made for prog-adjacent credentials. 

“Ember Crown”, the first true track on Solypso, is a neat encapsulation of Ypres’ sound: a hurricane of harsh vocals astride lumbering riffs while bass licks crack through the onslaught of frantic drumming. The general effect is like listening to The Ocean when they hit their more anthemic and straightforwardly heavy sections; indeed, Denis Demetriev’s harshes certainly bear a resemblance to those of Loïc Rossetti. However, a mere copy of The Ocean would be a cop-out; fortunately, Ypres have a secret weapon. 

A subtle Americana twang suffuses Solypso. Dark country licks rendered almost unrecognisable by distortion surface repeatedly throughout the album, such as midway through “Humility” when the lead guitar gets into a trippy Elder-esque section of psychedelic fuzz, or in the introduction of “Threads”.This genre influence is most apparent on “Knowing Light” which may well be the jewel in Solypso’s crown and the greatest evidence of Ypres’ proggier ambitions. Led by the husky tones of guest vocalist, Sata, “Knowing Light” sounds like a post-metal soundtrack for Red Dead Redemption, or The Last of Us. The reverberating production on Sata’s vocals render her lamentations wraith-like, an apparition in the desert sand’s white noise, while the pummelling riffs take on a more Western style twang. 

Solypso is a very satisfying work of crushingly heavy post-metal with some proggier aspirations lurking in the margins. I’d love to hear these guys lean less on the well-worn post/extreme metal sound and keep experimenting with those fuzz and Americana influences, but for now this is forty-four minutes of volcanic post-metal that will get your 2023 listening off to a solid start. 

Recommended tracks: Humility, Knowing Light, Threads
You may also like: Seyr, Sikasa, Hippotraktor
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives page

Label: COD Label and Distribution – Bandcamp | Facebook

Ypres is:
– Denis Dmitriev (vocals, guitar)
– Ivan Tokarev (guitars, fx)
– Kirill Tsarkov (drums, percussion)
– Denis Zarutski (bass)

The post Review: Ypres – Solypso appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Rock, Jazz Fusion, Contemporary Classical (Instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Tigran Hamasyan, Joe Hisaishi, Frédéric Chopin
Review by: Christopher
Country: Russia
Release date: 4 November, 2022

I love a great prog metal record as much as the next Progressive Subway reviewer, but one of the real pleasures of reviewing is uncovering the hidden gems that don’t easily fit in any box, and today’s review is a great case in point; a record that blends progressive rock, jazz fusion and contemporary classical. Fans of Iamthemorning will already be familiar with such a sublime combo, but for the unfamiliar, Gleb Kolyadin is one half of the aforementioned Russian duo, a piano-driven prog rock outfit, which blends the delicate vocals of Marjana Semkina with Kolyadin’s versatile piano, jazz fusion flavours, and classical currents; she and Kolyadin comprise one of modern prog rock’s most wonderful underground marvels. 

Naturally, Kolyadin’s solo work follows in the vein of his main project, except without Semkina’s lovely vocals, instead upping the instrumental intensity and adding a small battalion of additional musicians. The Outland is his third solo release, and it’s a tour de force. A pianist of classical training, Kolyadin is an astonishing talent and his compositional flair for different modalities is captivating; his thick chords feel like crushing riffs, his wild soloing flits from jazz fusion to something akin to shred, and yet those classical roots are always lingering just out of sight. All of these genre influences flow through the music like a teeming ocean reef. 

Virtuosos recognise virtuosos, and Kolyadin has surrounded himself with them. Long time collaborator Gavin Harrison (Porcupine Tree) handles drums once more, while Vlad Avy returns to deliver understated yet vital guitar contributions. A fourteen-piece string ensemble accompanies, and a range of guest musicians provide flute, marimba/vibraphone, upright bass (contributed on one track by, of all people, Tony Levin), and bodhran and additional percussion (provided by the wonderful Evan Carson). My favourite personnel listing, however, has to be from a ‘Mr Konin’ who is credited with ‘clapping, cheerful dancing’.

As a result, when Kolyadin isn’t wowing you, someone else is. The flute work of Eliza Marshall soars high throughout the record, playfully duelling with the piano on opening number “Voyager”. Meanwhile, Ilya Gindin’s clarinet solo on “Ascension” is one of the album’s highlights, and with the bodhran in tow it briefly segues into klezmer territory. The mark of a great composer is one who knows when to hold back and let his peers take the lead for a while, and Kolyadin is as humble as he is talented. 

Nevertheless, we’ve come here for Kolyadin, and he doesn’t disappoint. “Cascades” proves to be his personal showcase, a solo piano sonata which sees him on firmer classical pianist ground, channelling Chopin and Lizst into the appropriately cascading track as he flits up and down the keys. He’s just as brilliant when accompanied: “Mercurial” opens with Beethoven-esque proto-Romanticism before the rest of the band rise up and take us into more urgent jazz fusion territory where both the vibraphone and a rare foreground moment for Avy’s guitar work completely alter the track’s intentions. Meanwhile, “Apparatus” sees Kolyadin’s thunderous left-hand chords reverberate ominously under peregrinating lead lines before guitar and keyboard break into the album’s rockiest movement. On closing number “Hermitage” Kolyadin and Avy face off while the strings cavort in the background like swallows in the cobalt sky of summer while a choir joins to elevate us to rapturous heights. 

The Outland is an utter delight, an energetic fusion of multiple styles into an infinitely listenable brew that will appeal to a diverse audience. Kolyadin is an incredible talent—not just as a master of his instrument but also as a band leader. A guerrilla campaign of niche prog fans is needed to get this wonderful record the listenership it deserves: sneak it into the CD collection of your local cafe, have it on in the background at your next dinner party (I know our readers are a classy bunch), show it to your other prog-loving friends so they stop listening to the new Ne Obliviscaris single on repeat, play it quietly when your grandparents visit. Give people an opportunity to hear it, and they’ll delight in it too.

Recommended tracks: Voyager, Cascades, Apparatus
You may also like:  Iamthemorning, Evan Carson, Clement Belio, Smalltape
Final verdict: 8.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Gleb Kolyadin is:
– Gleb Kolyadin (grand piano, keyboards)
– Vlad Avy (acoustic and electric guitars)
– Gavin Harrison (drums)

The post Review: Gleb Kolyadin – The Outland appeared first on The Progressive Subway.