Style: Progressive rock, symphonic rock (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: King Crimson, Camel, Vangelis, Anekdoten, Focus
Country: Norway
Release date: 25 July 2025

In the kingdom of the rock band, the throne usually belongs to the singer, who commands attention while the instruments orbit like loyal courtiers. There may be a guitarist lurking like a scheming vizier, angling to one day seize control, or a keyboardist playing the role of the staunch and trusty chancellor—perhaps the favourite of the court, even if the crown rests elsewhere. But in instrumental bands, the throne sits conspicuously empty. Some groups fill the vacancy by crowning another instrument as monarch. Others leave the court in disarray, offering tracks that feel like singer-less karaoke, shapeless without a clear voice from the throne.

But there is a secret third option: on their debut album The Book of Hours, Norwegian band Agropelter opts for a little throne room reno, removing the seat of power entirely in favour of a round table. Gathered around it are flute, organ, mellotron, guitar, fretless bass, piano, and more; each takes turns steering the conversation and weaving lush, indulgent harmonies. The resulting sound draws heavily on the pizzazz of 70s and 80s prog rock while peppering in jazz, classical, cinematic hues, and even a dash of AOR. It’s a lively musical dialogue, rather than a single ruling figure holding court.

Evoking everything from Rachmaninoff to King Crimson to the Old-School RuneScape soundtrack within a single track, one could easily imagine Agropelter’s multi-instrumental milieu feeling cramped or scatterbrained. However, The Book of Hours unfolds with unhurried assurance. Those who prefer their music structured will find no catchily-packaged verse-chorus deals here; the album flows more like a stream of consciousness, a winding road meandering towards something that always stays just past the vanishing point. Most of the time, this works: I wouldn’t bat an eye if you told me that the solo five minutes into “The Book of Hours Pt I” was lifted from a Rachmaninoff or Beethoven piano concerto, as its long phrases lope elegantly in arcing forms, but the final tumble down the keyboard’s low end to the waiting mellotron feels effortless and natural, too. However, not all twists in the road are as deftly navigated. Take, for instance, the bass solo that bubbles up from the murky bottom of the dense soundscape in “Burial Mound”. Though sharply executed and poignantly eerie, it trails off without a true resolution. And the same goes for album opener “The Flute of Peril”—Agropelter hasn’t yet mastered the art of gracefully laying a track to rest once the journey has run its course.

The Book of Hours opens with an atmospheric fricassée of cawing crows, thunder, and rain that occasionally reappears between tracks. Though the colourfully varied instrumental tapestry often delights with unexpected timbres poking out of the thrumming inter-track ambiance, there are fewer surprises when it comes to the melody. That is to say, Agropelter is content to resolve phrases and harmonies in ways that you might anticipate—pretty and satisfying rather than challenging, dissonant, or unsettled. For example, the cinematic major-key theme that closes “The Book of Hours Pt I”:¹ harmonically, its path is somewhat telegraphed, but the effect is less that of a predictable cliché, and more of a puzzle piece sliding neatly into place.

Whether it’s the sultry, jazz-tinged piano in “The Book of Hours Pt II” or the shimmering AOR glint of the keys and guitar that open “Levitator”, Agropelter’s stylistic flourishes never feel out of place. Instead, though the dominant accents are the brio of vintage prog rock and the elegant grandeur of Romantic Classical music, each voice still finds its place at the round table. Agropelter may have never crowned a ruler, but The Book of Hours proves that a court can thrive without one. Together, the album’s numerous influences and instruments coalesce into a debut that surprises and charms at nearly every turn.

Recommended tracks: Burial Mound, The Book of Hours Pt I, The Book of Hours Pt III
You may also like: Øresund Space Collective, Agusa, Änglagård, King Garcia
Final verdict: 7.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Official Website | Instagram

Label: The Laser’s Edge – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Agropelter is:
– Kay Olsen (guitars, bass, church organ, keyboard)
– Jonas Reingold (fretless bass)
– Mattias Olson (percussion, synths)
– Andreas Sjøen (drums)
With guests:
– Jordi Castella (grand piano)
– Eli Mine (harpsichord)
– Norlene M (cello)
– Aileen Antu (double bass)
– Luis Vilca (alto flute)
– Hannah Danets (flute)
– Zhivago (bassoon)
– Edgar Asmar (duduk)

1. This and a few passages in “The Book of Hours Pt III” call to mind Mark Knopfler’s soundtrack work. ︎

The post Review: Agropelter – The Book of Hours appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: symphonic rock, progressive rock, psychedelic rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Electric Light Orchestra, The Grateful Dead, The Beatles, Love, Supertramp, Motorpsycho
Country: Australia
Release date: 13 June 2025

Twenty-seven studio albums in a plethora of genres within thirteen years—and no sign of stopping. That is the modus operandi of King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. The genre-hopping gimmick and incomprehensible prolificness have netted the Aussie sextet an absolutely massive cult following as their work ethic and (apparently) riotously fun live act have captured the hearts of terminally online music nerds and casuals alike. On the Gizzy Lizzy’s newest record, Phantom Island, the group has attempted something new stylistically yet again: orchestration.

Originally written and recorded alongside 2024’s Gizzard version of boogie rock (Flight b741)—remnants of which remain in the new record—Phantom Island was deemed incomplete by the band, who enlisted Chad Kelly to compose orchestrations to be superimposed atop the original studio tracks. The result is energetic symphonic and progressive pop/rock, similar to Electric Light Orchestra. Blaring brass and uptempo hand drums create a full soundscape at the expense of drowning the listener in its cheesy outdatedness of Phantom Island’s tone (“Deadstick,” “Eternal Return,” “Panpsych”). Vocal harmonies straight out of the late 60s crop up all over the place (“Eternal Return,” “Aerodynamic, “Sea of Doubt”). Unfortunately, when frontman Stu Mackenzie takes sole vocal responsibilities, he has a tendency to slide into a grating, unrefined falsetto (“Deadstick,” “Silent Spirit,” “Grow Wings and Fly”) that feels out of place with the prettier orchestral arrangements on Phantom Island.

Chad Kelly and the Wizardy Lizardys’ arranging skills are at times brilliant. On the opener and title track, “Phantom Island,” a descending piano motif acts as a throughline across the jazzy track; the song culminates in a speedy, jam build-up, raucous yet focused. Tracks like “Lonely Cosmos,” with its acoustic ditty intro and psychedelic jazz conclusion, and “Aerodynamic,” with its excellent blues guitar tone, craft enough of an identity to stand out from the rest of Phantom Island—an album that, yet again, finds King Gizzard mostly playing firmly within their comfort zone.

Despite the different aesthetic surface differentiating any King Wizard & The Lizard Gizzard album from another, KGATLW know exactly who they are. Whether they’re playing with microtonality, thrashy sludge metal, electronic music, or spoken word, The Lizard Wizard & King Gizzard are the exact same under the hood; the group merely steal the aesthetic of a genre without any mind for composition or ethos. Phantom Island is progressive pop, jazzy, and, of course, symphonic, but at its core it’s another psychedelic jam album with the same structure as any of their other gazillion albums The record is utterly lifeless and boring apart from its couple aforementioned highlights. The horns sound forced, the record clearly not written with them in mind, and the songs that bristle with the most instruments are chaotic. Moreover, by the end of Phantom Island, The Lizard Wizards have basically dropped their schtick for the album, sounding outright like the psych rock band they are; I dearly miss the ELOisms of the earlier tracks starting at “Sea of Doubt” (although even those earlier ones often add a sort of ‘let’s-all-hold-hands-and-sing-Kumbaya’ vibe that’s a bit too ingratiating). Orchestral elements still appear in the later tracks, but they seem completely detached from the main compositions, like the afterthought they are. 

Y’know what might have fixed some of the fundamental compositional issues? If the King Lizard spent more than a couple months releasing an album. The ‘chuck every composition into an LP’ approach has yielded winners for the Gizzard Wizard in the past, but their discography has far more stinkers because every album feels like an incomplete exploration of a sound. Is Phantom Island a fun record? Yes. And I know that King Lizard & The Gizzard Wizard will continue to be successful because of that, deservedly one may say. But I can’t help but feel like this opus—like most of their others—is vapid pastiche as far as artistic merit goes.

Recommended tracks: Phantom Island, Lonely Cosmos, Aerodynamic
You may also like: Himmellegeme, Adjy, Kosmodome
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: p(doom) – Bandcamp | Official Website

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard is:
– Ambrose Kenny-Smith – vocals (all tracks), piano (tracks 1, 2, 4–6, 9, 10)
– Michael Cavanagh – drums, percussion (all tracks)
– Cook Craig – bass (tracks 1, 3, 8, 10), Mellotron (tracks 1, 6), organ (tracks 2, 4, 9), vocals (tracks 1, 3, 4, 8, 10)
– Joey Walker – guitar (all tracks), bass (tracks 1, 4, 5), vocals (tracks 2, 4–7, 9, 10)
– Lucas Harwood – bass (tracks 1, 2, 4–7, 9, 10), piano (track 4), vocals (tracks 4, 5)
– Stu Mackenzie – guitar, vocals (all tracks), bass (tracks 1, 3–8), Mellotron (tracks 1–3, 5, 6), organ, piano (track 1)
With additional musicians:
– Sam Joseph – pedal steel (tracks 5, 8, 10)
– Chad Kelly – orchestral arrangements, piano
– Brett Kelly – conductor
– Tim Wilson, Lachlan Davidson, Phil Noy – saxophone
– Patrick McMullin, Daniel Beasy, Shane Hooton – trumpet
– Chris Vizard, James Bowman, Joe O’Callaghan – trombone
– Abbey Edlin – French horn
– Wendy Clarke, Lachlan Davidson – flute
– Natasha Fearnside – clarinet
– Matthew Kneale – bassoon
– Madeleine Jevons, Jos Jonker, Miranda Matheson, Ruby Paskas, Josephine Chung – violin
– Merewyn Bramble, Karen Columbine – viola
– Gemma Kneale, Paul Zabrowarny – cello

The post Review: King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard – Phantom Island appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Album artwork by Gigi Cavalli Cocchi.

Style: Progressive rock, symphonic rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Porcupine Tree, new Opeth, Pink Floyd, Yes
Country: Italy
Release date: 06 December 2024

There are some albums that loudly demand your attention, and others that quietly, politely ask for it. This one does both, but not always in equal measure. What I’ve got here is an Italian prog rock release of epic proportions: The Good Man by Alex Carpani is just two nearly-thirty-minute tracks (also conveniently split by the artist into nine parts each) that span multiple styles and moods from ambient synth and fusion to the more conventional (is that the right word for it?) riffing found across the prog spectrum. Carpani’s influences reverberate throughout this record with enough clarity to evoke certain familiarity and he manages to keep the sound fresh without ever sounding derivative to the point of unoriginality but sometimes can stumble with keeping the listener engaged with its frequently shifting tone and pace. 

There’s a lot to take in on this release. The shifting moods interplay with the changing soundscapes, from heavy to soft, slow to fast, to create a dynamic that gives the album some movement. The Good Man is an album that doesn’t hide behind flashy technical wizardry, but competent musicianship doesn’t necessitate boastful showmanship, as Alex skilfully balances interesting and intricate riffing with emotional weight in the songwriting. Although the album is two singular tracks, there’s a lot of variation within the individual pieces—the two pieces ebb and flow with grace, like the scenes of a movie, often recalling elements that came before and reworking them into something that fits the later narrative. 

On “Amnesiac”, psychedelic Pink Floyd-esque moments of quiet introspection and experimentation are introduced, where background elements take precedence, and atmospheric keyboard work is complemented with a soprano operatic background vocal while the guitar takes a backseat to sentimental string pads. This is contrasted with loud, exuberant heavy guitar sections à la Haken, verses which come in later on “Heart Calling” (“part 7”). Trading emphasis between steady, double-kick triplets, and off-beat, syncopated staccato riffing over soaring keyboard leads, these kinds of feel changes add a sense of dynamism and help give a long track a feeling of momentum. 

On “Good and Evil”, the pace slows down a bit. It’s a little more reserved, with fleeting moments of effervescence – the occasional energetic Steven Wilson-ey, new-Opeth-ish heavy part coming in after long periods of contemplative mulling about. I liked this contrast on “Amnesiac”; I was less fond of it a second time around. It felt more like a continuation of the first track that did little to move the album along than a wholly separate one. The various movements for the most part all kind of lull you into a trance; first slow, then upbeat, then slow again. Although it makes for a very cohesive, very consistent listen, there just wasn’t enough to differentiate from the first 28 minutes to really grab a hold of me. However, there were some interesting moments like “Flirting With Darkness”: an enthusiastic rock break that provides a bit of renewed energy after the aptly named “Stillness and Ecstasy” (emphasis mine) – and “Mystical”, where after a string-backed word from the late Pope John Paul II, we spontaneously break into fugue. As a pipe organ toccata channels Bach, the percussion section thunders in with bass accompaniment, breaking into what could almost be considered neoclassical prog, and delineating this as what I felt was the highlight of the album. The song has several more transitions between slow and fast, deciding on a more upbeat rock sound on the final track “Everything Falls Into Place” with heavily effected reverberant guitar melodies and saxophone, before sliding into more abstract ambient territory for the album finale.

Alex Carpani has been around the block some, he certainly doesn’t need my validation here; I have the utmost respect for what he tried to do with this project and to say I didn’t enjoy it would be unfair as there are certainly moments I keep going back to, and parts of these two tracks that have made my regular rotation. Ultimately, though, The Good Man as a whole failed to resonate with me in a manner that I felt significant. I commend the work of his band and in particular, mezzo-soprano Valentina Vanini, whose contributions to this album cannot be overstated. A rather pensive release, with moments of bombast peppered throughout, Alex Carpani has crafted the thinking man’s prog rock album, but its unhurried nature might test the patience of those looking for more urgency and a swifter pace.

Recommended tracks: “Amnesiac Part 2 Perfect Chaos”, “Amnesiac Part 9 End Of The Day”, “Good and Evil Part 5 Flirting With Darkness”, “Good and Evil Part 9 Everything Falls Apart”
You may also like: Wounded Knee, Osanna, Karmamoi
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent Artist Records

Alex Carpani is:
– Alex Carpani (vocals, keyboards, production)

The post Review: Alex Carpani – The Good Man appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Traditional progressive metal, progressive rock, symphonic metal (clean, female vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Cellar Darling, The Great Discord
Country: Australia
Release date: 14 May 2021

[EDITOR’S NOTE: This review was originally published in the 2021 Missed Albums issue of The Progressive Subway.]

Can anybody tell the people in Australia to calm down already? The heat that comes from that country is insane. The amount of quality, forward-thinking heavier prog acts that have come out of there in the last fifteen year is ludicrous. From Caligula’s Horse to Ne Obliviscaris to Karnivool to Be’lakor and back, those people gotta chill. They probably can’t with the temperature over there, but still. Acolyte here is the latest wonder-band to bring us the heat from down-under. This time with some wonderful symphonic prog rock.

OK sorry I lied. This album may be prog rock but really it’s prog power in disguise. The synth choices and riff types they go for would fit right in on a power metal album. If they put in just a little more double bass and fast paced riffage it’d 100% be a power metal band. As a power metal fan I found this a little disappointing, but it works to the band’s advantage overall. Entropy has all the emotive strength and anthemic quality of the genre, but does not take any of the cheese that frequently deters people. Morgan-Leigh Brown delivers a very smooth, emotional performance, and the darker synth patches help create a moodier atmosphere. I do miss some of the more intricate riffing patterns though. Often when they do go into riff mode it’s just simple strumming patterns or arena rock type open chord riffs, which compared to the quality of the rest of the music leaves me wanting more.

The songwriting of this band otherwise is just fantastic. They’re masters of tension and release. Symphonic metal is not something I generally associate with long build-ups but this band makes them work magnificently. Take the climax of the title track for example. They start with a simple, but tense groove and slowly let the keys start swelling, rhythmic vocals come in and everything just keeps getting more and more intense until it just explodes. It’s one of the best things I’ve heard all year. In general, the song also illustrates well how the band isn’t afraid to venture off the conventional songwriting path. At first it sounds like a typical verse-chorus type prog song but after the second chorus it goes off in this beautiful atmospheric part with multiple climaxes and the chorus doesn’t come back at all. “Resentment” is the only track that takes the more typical route as it goes for the straightforward rocker approach. All the other short songs are atmospheric interludes (and yes, that includes the five-minute long “Recovery”).

This means that merely half of the songs on this album count as actual songs. The interludes are all beautiful in their own right, but part of me wonders about their necessity given that all the long tracks have more than enough loud-soft dynamics to keep the album paced well. For example, the opening interlude always gives me extra time to reconsider whether I am committed to listen to this album and not something else, while if it started immediately with the riffs of the title track I’m less inclined to think twice about it. And between “Idiosyncrasy” and “Acceptance” there are two interludes combining for a total of seven (!) minutes. It’s not that they’re bad, but pacing-wise it becomes a bit tiring. Effectively there are three epics in a row, all of which are slow burners that start soft and end epic. I could have done with a more immediate, faster paced track there to spice things up (this is the part where I wish they were actually power metal sometimes).

In the end though these things are hardly deterrents. The album always flies by when I listen to it. The peaks this band achieves are among the best you’ll hear in prog metal. And I didn’t even get into the gorgeous production job they had which – given the fact that they brought in some award-winning producers – shouldn’t come as a surprise, or the wonderful Middle-Eastern inspirations in “Idiosyncrasy”. Entropy is among the best things I’ve heard all year, and you’d be a fool not to listen to it if you have any love for clean vocals prog. Australia has done it once again and delivered something fantastic.

Recommended tracks: Entropy, Idiosyncrasy, Acceptance
You May Also Like: Venus in Fear, Lost in Thought, Tanagra, Dakesis
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | YouTube | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

Label: Independent

Acolyte is:
– Morgan-Leigh Brown (vocals)
– Brandon Valentine (guitars)
– David Van Pelt (keyboards)
– Jason Grondman (bass)
– Chris Cameron (drums)

The post Review: Acolyte – Entropy appeared first on The Progressive Subway.