Style: Progressive rock, progressive metal (mostly clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Haken, prog rock Opeth, Porcupine Tree, Riverside
Country: Norway
Release date: 13 June 2025

What do you know about America’s tenth president, John Tyler? I’m willing to bet the answer is ‘not much.’ Succeeding William Henry Harrison, who died a month after his own inauguration, Tyler’s leadership was mocked for the unorthodox—and, at the time, unprecedented—way he had come to power. Fearful of alienating political allies, he kept his predecessor’s cabinet despite the fact many of them actively disliked him. At the same time, he took stances in such flagrant opposition to his own party’s platform that they tried to impeach him. Generally regarded as an unremarkable president with a few minor achievements to his name, he carries the ignominious honour of being the only president whose death wasn’t officially recognised in Washington (because of his allegiance to the Confederacy). You haven’t heard of him because historical memory rewards the noteworthy, be they good or bad. The John Tylers of history tend to be forgotten. 

Vying for the title of “the John Tyler of prog” comes Norwegian outfit Avkrvst with their sophomore effort Waving at the Sky. Like their peers in Altesia and Moon Machine, Avkrvst’s sound sits somewhere between prog rock-era Opeth and early Haken with splashes of Porcupine Tree and Riverside for good measure, straddling that thin marigold line between prog rock and prog metal. If my memory serves me correctly, we didn’t end up covering their 2022 debut The Approbation because the writer who had opted to review them suddenly left the site. If that sounds like an inauspicious start for Avkrvst in our dank, poorly-lit halls, then I’m afraid all that talk of John Tyler up top isn’t a harbinger of any improvement.

Instrumental opener “Preceding” gives a flavour of things to come: wonky time signatures and staccato riffing plus melodic lead guitar and synth lines backed by whimsical Mellotron. Like so many intro tracks, it adds little to the overall album. At least follow-up “The Trauma” gives us some galloping drums and a tension-building riff to feast on before presenting Waving at the Sky’s predominant issue which, like the band, we’ll avoid for a hot minute. Tracks like “Families are Forever”¹ and “Conflating Memories” offer us some melodic, almost Floydian guitar solos, the latter also featuring a spicy flute cameo, while a couple of synth leads adorn “Waving at the Sky”. “Ghosts of Yesteryear” offers an adrenaline booster of much-needed energy with strong riffing and energetic drumwork. Indeed, the rhythm section in particular excels throughout the record, with the low-tuned, Yes-inspired bass work (credited to both Simon Bergseth and Øystein Aadland) thrumming pleasingly in the mix at all times, and the energetic drumming of Martin Utby being the most obvious plumes in Avkrvst’s cap. 

These better angels of Avkrvst’s nature, however, are the exception rather than the rule. It takes Waving at the Sky five minutes to introduce the vocals, and when they do arrive you can see why the band filibustered with instrumental prevarication. There’s no sugar-coating the fact that Simon Bergseth’s vocal performance is bland². He invariably sticks to safe, tried-and-tested vocal lines, singing whole notes in a barely varying cadence and with a near-total lack of expression. Every note is extended long beyond the point at which any interest could be maintained and he never varies from this mode of delivery. Harsh vocals are used sparingly, which is for the best because they’re always superfluous to the band’s sound; Avkrvst don’t need them, and they hang awkwardly every time. 

“Families are Forever” is by far the worst offender in this vein. In practice, the restrained instrumental work, the low burr of the bass and the nuance of the drumwork, is perfect for this sort of track. But Bergseth’s utterly lifeless vocal melodies, which should be the focal point of this section, instead rob the song of any intrigue. And this happens every time, the band members almost sabotage themselves in trying to match the soporific quality of the vocals. Historically, I haven’t been all that kind to Ross Jennings’ guest appearances (will his turn on the upcoming Scardust change that track record?), and I’m hardly going to start now, but his cliched and rather unremarkable contribution to “The Malevolent” is leaps and bounds ahead of any other vocal performance on this record. Whatever mitochondrial deficit the band were suffering from heretofore briefly abates and the band finally finds some damned energy which certainly helps “The Malevolent” as well as Jennings’ chances to steal the show.

That same energy rears its head a few times and always sees Avkrvst at their most compelling. “Ghosts of Yesteryear” features some sick bass, animated drumming, and big guitar chords all with a flavour of Porcupine Tree’s iconic “Deadwing”. Strong riffing and an ominous lead motif with an almost saxy timbre all make for a standout track—like John Tyler’s annexation of Texas, it’s probably their greatest achievement on the record. Naturally, the vocal-led sections are still a dirge, but the band at least manage to vary the track enough to keep it interesting. Twelve minute closer “Waving at the Sky” possesses a certain portentousness absent from the rest of the record, and the sense of a compositional goal in mind. With a wealth of solos and ominous riffing in its instrumental back half, it’s hardly surprising that it’s one of the better tracks. But the track also features a moderately interesting chorus. That may sound like damning with faint praise—probably because it is—but on a record with vocal performances this expressionless, moderate intrigue is a win. 

Ultimately proving as insipid as its title, Waving at the Sky contains flashes of compositional talent and energy in an album that, for the most part, has a contrarian tendency to be uninteresting in spite of the obvious potential that occasionally rears its head. And yet, I don’t want to sound too harsh; Avkrvst’s main sin is John Tyler-style blandness, not James Buchanan-esque badness. A focus on strengthening and varying vocal melodies in a way that matches the rest of the band’s talents would provide a much-needed shot of energy to the compositions. Then again, why should Avkrvst listen to me? After all, a certain president never listened to his haters³. Can you guess which one?

Recommended tracks: Ghosts of Yesteryear, Conflating Memories
You may also like: Altesia, Moon Machine, Keor, Novena
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: InsideOutMusic – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Avkrvst is:
– Simon Bergseth (lead vocalist, guitars, bass guitar)
– Martin Utby (drums, synthesizer)
– Øystein Aadland (bass guitar, keyboards)
– Edvard Seim (guitars)
– Auver Gaaren (keyboards)

1.  You know who might have something to say about this song title? John Tyler! He was both the first president to lose his wife in office and the first to get married in office (to his second wife). Woodrow Wilson would later become the second and only other president to become both widowed and remarried while in office. ︎
2.  Unlike John Tyler, who reportedly had a rather pleasant singing voice and could play many instruments. Given how much everyone seemed to dislike him, we can assume he really must’ve been quite good. ︎
3.  “My own personal popularity can have no influence over me when the dictates of my best judgment and the obligations of an oath require of me a particular course. Under such circumstances, whether I sink or swim on the tide of popular favor is, to me, a matter of inferior consideration.” God, what a bore.  ︎

The post Review: Avkrvst – Waving at the Sky appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock, post-rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Riverside, Lunatic Soul, Porcupine Tree, Airbag
Country: Poland
Release date: 13 April 2025

Sensory experiences hold tremendous power to recall memories from our past. Every spring, the first time I catch the scent of early blooming flowers in the warming air through an open window, I’m transported back to middle school and all the time I spent playing Final Fantasy X on a tiny CRT TV in the basement with the door left open for fresh air. Similarly, certain albums—and even whole styles of music—remain permanently associated with the state my life was in when I first heard them. Riverside’s music continually calls me back to my time in late high school, discovering as much Dream Theater-adjacent music as I could through free streaming on Pandora; so strong is the connection that any similarly melancholy heavy progressive rock puts me in much the same mood. Enter SubLunar, another Polish band with an equivalent penchant for sadness, putting forth their sophomore album, A Random Moment of Stillness, for our consideration.

It feels reductive to focus too closely on comparisons between distinct artists, but it’s actively difficult to discuss SubLunar without mentioning Riverside as well. At times, singer Łukasz Dumara sounds so similar to Mariusz Duda (Riverside, Lunatic Soul) that, on my first listen, I had to double-check SubLunar’s lineup to make sure Duda hadn’t secretly started up another side project. Beyond the vocal tone and delivery, the overall style and instrumentation throughout A Random Moment of Stillness is incredibly reminiscent of Riverside’s Memories in My Head era in particular.

Featuring strong bass and soft guitars, but with a lighter presence of keyboards, SubLunar have taken the dark, moody syrup that flavored Riverside albums of old (yes, I know, Memories was “only” released fourteen-ish years ago) and freshly mixed it for an updated interpretation. Although some barbed, distorted edges remain, A Random Moment shies away from neighboring prog metal influences while at the same time developing a cozy infusion of post-rock to further mellow out the atmosphere. SubLunar’s soft ensemble settles the listener into a gentle melancholy mood, perhaps depressed at the cruel emptiness of the world around them, but at least comforted and feeling just a little less alone since they have this beautiful music to appreciate in their solitude.

Supporting the musical mood, A Random Moment of Stillness presents a textual theme centering around contrast and self-contradiction as well as an existential sense of impermanence. Paradoxical phrases pepper the lyrics, expressing a fundamental impossibility in reconciling life’s pains and pleasures. Other sections create a split perspective, describing two slightly different points of view with successive lines that build tension in their opposition. “Falling Upwards” lays the groundwork with its oxymoronic title while clashing lyrical phrases like “We are the ones to stay / We are the ones to go” and “Apart / As a whole” build a sense of unstable reality where no single truth can be established. More than mere contradiction, though, A Random Moment of Stillness establishes a feeling of ephemerality, that our lifetimes and daily lives flash by with little lasting impact. The cleverly-anagrammed closing track “A Sun Blur” laments “Yesterday’s just a flame / A waterdrop in the morning rain” and later “Another day, another scratch / On the surface of the earth.” Whatever self-importance we may assign ourselves, the scope of time we occupy remains tiny and brief compared to the vast planet that surrounds and sustains us. And yet, this needn’t be a message of despair, as the closing stanza offers some small comfort: “All the moments, all the whiles / All the fingerprints of mine / It just couldn’t be / It couldn’t be / More alive.” As limited as our human experience may be, all the worth and beauty we need can be found within it.

If I have one complaint about A Random Moment of Stillness, it’s the lack of stylistic variety. Although every track is equally stirring and mysterious, they also all feel cut from the exact same cloth, like someone listened to Riverside’s “Living in the Past” and decided there should be a whole album of just that. While I understand the temptation, the uniformity is a key limitation of this otherwise strong album. Similar rhythms, tempos, and moods carry throughout the album, preserving the stillness for perhaps too long a moment. SubLunar’s performance flies by in a well-paced and enjoyable forty-three minutes thanks to the legitimately great talent behind it, but after hearing such mastery of one particular style, the listener is left wishing for a broader range.

Of course, it would be unfair not to mention the personal flair that SubLunar display, cutting through the repetition with marbled streaks of individuality. For example, the strong instrumental post-rock influence that takes over at the halfway mark of “Unmanned” sounds totally unlike the rest, setting the focus on a frantic, lonely drum part with gently rising and falling waves of pitch distortion, joined briefly by soft piano notes before finishing on a bright, piercing guitar solo. Łukasz Dumara sets a somber tone with his expression of the carefully crafted lyrics, but SubLunar’s unique character shows best during the lengthy instrumental bridge featured in almost every track. For example, “Attract / Deter” just before the three-minute mark—as Dumara’s heartfelt vocals fade into the backdrop, reverberating guitars echo his closing words “We aren’t made of stone,” reinforcing the message as the abandoned space fills with deepening ambient sounds and increasing rhythmic complexity.

The adjectives “calming” and “depressing” might not be common partners, but A Random Moment of Stillness proves to be a rare exception as it finds affinity in opposing concepts. Prog rock and post-rock vibes combine with thoughtful, poetic lyrics to produce a soothing yet emotional experience. Although comparisons to Riverside are inevitable, SubLunar retain a character of their own, enhancing the atmosphere with ambient and post-rock elements. The result, although backed by clear talent  in the performances, features noticeable uniformity in the rhythm and tone of each track and could be improved by greater variation across the album. Even so, SubLunar’s consistency provides a rare comfort, with gentle vocals pouring out deeply existential lyrics as accompanying guitars complete the dark yet soothing listening experience. What better way to contemplate life’s inherently contradictory and fleeting nature?

Recommended tracks: Unmanned, Falling Upwards, Attract / Deter, A Sun Blur
You may also like: Derev, Sisare, Inhalo, Hillward
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

SubLunar is:
– Łukasz Dumara (vocals)
– Michał Jabłoński (guitars)
– Marcin Pęczkowski (guitars)
– Jacek Książek (bass)
– Łukasz Wszołek (drums)

The post Review: SubLunar – A Random Moment of Stillness appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soen (pre-Lotus), Riverside, Wheel (the Finnish one)
Country: Canada / International
Release date: 26 March 2025

Making the leap in format from EP to LP is such a common pattern among the first releases of fledgling bands that it would almost feel unusual to see an artist take a different tack. Derev join so many of their peers leaving the proverbial nest with Troubled Mind, finally paying off the obvious potential talent shown by their slightly rough but still artistically compelling debut EP Leap of Faith. Derev bring a few influences to the table, combining some elements of heavy prog rock (think Riverside) with equal parts of dark alternative metal. Although I wouldn’t go so far as to compare Derev to Tool, the most direct analogy would still be to two other Tool-alikes: Soen and Wheel (no, not the epic doom metal band, the other one). At their most subtle, Derev perform with all the gravitas of Soen at their peak (it’s all been downhill since Lykaia, fight me), but the deep, dark tone full of bass and low vocals is just as reminiscent of the alt-metal edge from Wheel’s Resident Human.

My exploration of Troubled Mind followed the opposite progression as my time with Leap of Faith—where my appreciation of the EP has grown with the benefit of more time to digest Derev’s style and complexities, this new LP comes front-loaded with positive first impressions. The instrumental bridge starting at about the halfway mark of opener “Buried Voice” provides the first big highlight and demonstrates Derev’s significant strides forward in the maturity of their songwriting and recording since Leap of Faith. Their poised and careful composition already cultivates the same rich, clear tone found in the best parts of their EP, and Troubled Mind’s extra production polish ensures that every sweet or savory moment delivers its full flavor. The complex time signatures found on tracks like “Tides of Time” and “Room 9” foster a feeling of mystery and instability, and clever usage of shifting time signatures and interlocking polyrhythms thematically mimics the capricious visions of an insecure consciousness. The band’s other great asset is Adel Saflou’s strong yet luscious voice, which imparts emotion into the words he sings better than many genre veterans (looking at you, LaBrie) in part due to his great capacity for varying the intensity and the emotional tone of his voice. His performance is also aided by the lyrics themselves, which tackle poignant, impactful subjects like self-loathing, intrusive thoughts, and grief for a lost loved one.

Derev don’t hesitate to showcase instrumental performances either, as is particularly evident from the impressively intricate all-instrumental “Paracusia,” but weighty bass flourishes and rich melodic soundscapes of guitar and keyboard abound throughout Troubled Mind. The early instrumental interlude “Crawl Space” also sets itself apart, building a lovely cinematic atmosphere with synthesized strings and harp despite its short runtime. Even the drums get plenty of time in the sun, featuring several less common percussion instruments (such as the Middle Eastern darbuka which opens “Darker Self”) while weaving steady yet technical backing rhythms, a solid background that casts Derev’s cleverness into even sharper relief. Unfortunately, all their compositional trickery and self-evident talent isn’t always enough to elevate the listening experience of Troubled Mind. Outside of certain tracks like the aforementioned “Paracusia,” most parts of the album lack that elusive spark which would allow Derev to ignite their quality kindling into a bonfire, and as a result those parts remain pleasant at a surface level but unremarkable on deeper inspection.

Similarly, the lyrical themes can feel a little one-note. Although each song tackles a different facet of mental turmoil, they all take more or less the same approach in expressing their concepts, with a rich and malty melancholy mood accompanied by lyrics which dive into the inner struggles of whatever mental malady serves as the present topic, both of which would sound right at home in one of Riverside’s early releases. That said, the emotional closing track “Trace Within” stands out, flawlessly intertwining concept and execution with its lyrical structure and judicious use of a guest vocalist (whose name I unfortunately can’t find listed anywhere) to contrast Saflou’s dark vocal tone. Aside from the introductory verse sung by Saflou alone, each verse repeats once while adding or removing one of the two singers. First the guest sings the verse alone, then the reprise and the next verse continue as a duet, and finally Saflou closes out the album singing three lonely lines by himself—“To ease the pain / I call your name / Come back again.” The expression of enduring grief is palpable, each singer clinging to their few moments together and mourning their separation when forced apart.

In their progression from Leap of Faith to Troubled Mind, Derev have made admirable advances musically, but the specter of their inconsistent execution still looms in the background. Although never poor in quality, Troubled Mind’s later sections still betray the implied promise made by the early greatness of “Buried Voice.” The core elements remain the same throughout, painting metaphorical scenes of mental distress with precise instrumental tone and evocative lyrical description, but Derev struggle to replicate the impact of the opening track, with few, fleeting exceptions. The composition is clever, the performances talented, the lyrics meaningful and emotional, but without more demonstration of those transcendent moments the band is clearly capable of, it just isn’t enough to blow my mind.

Recommended tracks: Buried Voice, Room 9, Paracusia, Darker Self, Trace Within
You may also like: Diagonal Path, Inhalo, Traverser, Chaos Divine
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Derev is:
– Adel Saflou (vocals)
– Armando Bablanian (guitars)
– Michel Karakach (drums)
– Stan Komarovsky (bass)
– Ran Zehavi (keyboards)

The post Review: Derev – Troubled Mind appeared first on The Progressive Subway.