Датская группа Mew выпустила новый альбом, объединяющий прогрессивный рок и поп-музыку

I've always wondered why prog rock was one of the few genres that got skipped over for a comeback. Is it just that it takes too much technical proficiency to play? Is it that latter-day prog metal bands like Dream Theater ruined it for everyone? Did the asteroid of punk actually kill off rock's dinosaurs? As someone who came up on old, (let's face it) unfashionable progressive rock, I do occasionally like to come across a new record that scratches those old itches, and Mew always seems to come through for me. The Danish trio (originally a quartet) doesn't do 17-minute epics, extended solos, lyrics about Chinese scripture, or crazy odd-metered jamming, though. Rather, they seem to have captured the exact moment when Carl Palmer, Steve Howe, Geoff Downes, and John Wetton realized prog was done for and started thinking about forming Asia. And that's not a bad thing at all! And the Glass-Handed Kites (2005), with its continuous mix and suite-like structure, nailed just about everything you could do right with that formula. Their new record, which has a whole freakin' poem for a title ( No More Stories Are Told Today I'm Sorry They Washed Away No More Stories The World Is Grey I'm Tired Let's Wash Away is how it reads complete), is a hair less awesome, but it won't lose them any fans, and its poppiest moments might even gain them a few. It doesn't open in the most welcoming way-- "New Terrain" is half-backward/ half-forward, with instruments and vocals switching back and forth for the whole song. Playing it backward gives you a different song, called "Nervous". The disorientation fades pretty quickly, though, once the tangled, King Crimson-ish guitar refrain and lung-full-of-helium vocals of "Introducing Palace Players" kick in. That nasty riff is one of several instances where Bo Madsen's guitar playing serves as a sort of dry, dissonant foil to the music's otherwise lush, floating ambiance. Reader Score No score yet, be the first to add. 0.0 Another of those songs is the other single, "Repeaterbeater", which, the way it kicks in with a hard rock rush before lifting off with multi-tracked vocals and high-wattage keyboards, seems designed as a follow-up to Glass Handed 's biggest hit, "The Zookeeper's Boy". It's like "Heat of the Moment" if it was played by Phoenix with the Bee Gees sitting in on vocals. While these songs and a few others ("Beach", especially) foreground the band's accessibility and odd arena appeal, they do still chuck a few knee-buckling curveballs at you. "Sometimes Life Isn't Easy" could contain the seeds for five songs if you cut it up. The intro is a total mindfuck, with super-high falsetto outbursts and saxophone that comes out of nowhere, but it quickly winds down with some warm synths and a gentle verse vocal backed by what sounds like a choir of children. The chorus may be the most joyful thing this band has ever put to tape. Mew show signs of trying to shake themselves out of habits, reversing their slow build approach on "Cartoons And Macramé Wounds" by starting the song at its peak and slowly ramping down from there. "Hawaii" is raw and rhythmic, with the guitar taking more of a lead role than usual in the opening verse, before giving way to a xylophone solo and anthemic final movement. The same method of through composition shapes closer "Reprise", a song that could easily be used to re-soundtrack Blade Runner in a pinch. Over the course of a long career (they formed in 1994), Mew has succeeded in developing a good sound from some of the least hip ingredients imaginable, and No More Stories... feels like a consolidation of every stride they've made to date. I'm still not sure if the word Mew means something in Danish or they're just named after something their cat said, but I'm ready to start using it as shorthand for quality prog-pop.