One of the primary purposes of this website is to provide attention to artists who might not normally be noticed, those talented people who strive to have their music heard in an increasingly deaf corporate dominated world. I am happy to do so and to present to my readers words and sounds to enable opinions to be made, with, hopefully, some added income for the artist as a bonus.

All the above requires a dose of honesty on the part of the reviewer to allow the words to make such influences. I tend not on this website to publish overtly negative reviews, but, hopefully, ones which accurately portrays the views of someone who adores his music and wishes nothing but the best for the artists who contact me.

One such is Tennyson Bates, who reached out to me from Virginia, USA a short while ago to alert me to his debut release recording as Atmos, namely Atmos I. It is released via Bandcamp, and you can see this at https://atmosprog.bandcamp.com/album/atmos-i Atmos is extremely talented – all the instruments are played by him, a mix of conventional and digital sounds and samples, so thoroughly modern. It sounds exceptional, and I would have given an instrumental album a deeply enthusiastic review. However, my enjoyment of the album is tempered somewhat by the spoken words, which I really am not enthused by. I think this would have been different had the words been presented to us as poetry, for example – for a very good recent instance of this, see The Haunted by Nine Skies on The Lightmaker where Charlie Bramald speaks some lovely words as a poetical accompaniment to the music.

There are five pieces of music here, including a massive epic more than 22 minutes, The Stardust Medley, so there is no shortage of ambition. Let’s discuss and play some of it.

The first track is appropriately named Welcome to Atmos, a short introduction to proceedings. The almost sampled (short welcome) words do not interfere too much on this, which I have embedded below, a track which is nicely experimental, with more than a hint of Frippian influence behind it. I like it, and when I first heard it, it brought with it a sense of anticipation to what I was going to hear in full.

Let the Feast Begin is interesting lyrically, with the tale of a battered old sea vessel and a salty dog at the helm and his ship adrift in the foggy sea. There is a pleasing sense of drama in the synths and samples here, and a nice bassline. I just don’t understand the sampled voice, though. It tells a good story, but in an alien fashion I simply find difficult to listen to. Better, I think, to have simply had the music with the words accompanying the music silently on the (digital) album sleeve. When the words end, there is an interesting crash before the main musical theme asserts itself, and it is evocative of the sea and drifting listlessly, in other words, cleverly providing the listener with what is happening.

Cabin is precisely the same length, just over four minutes. I referred above to poetry, and the lyrics to this are just that. They are below:

I remember a Cabin, and it was hidden amongst the faceless oaks

Alone, with a snaky path leading down from its ancient and crooked steps

A sun-bathed ancient looking haggard sat on the throws of it.

His musty, gray and dim eyes drifted slowly towards the darkening sky

All was quiet, and well, until a drop fell from heaven and landed there

Then another… and another… The Maelstrom had arrived

Interesting, and I like the piano and effects which introduce this track. When the words are again spoken sampled, there is a very nice choral effect accompanying them, delicately symphonic in their effect, reminiscent of some of Enya’s work, I think. When the words end, there is a drum riff with a nice bass and guitar interplay. It is very good as the atmosphere builds, and I have embedded it below.

Sky Surfer is just short of ten minutes long and is a sad tale of yearning so as not to forget the eponymous man who died alone, crashing into a planetary mass. Again, the ambition and the intelligence in the words are palpable. The bass and guitars are again hugely enjoyable, with a bit of a funky eastern Asian vibe thrown in here. When this passage is finished, the alien voice is accompanied by some industrial noises and then a simple piano. I think with a female voice, this could have been beautiful. As it is, it grates somewhat, because the music which is there is really very good, different moods interplaying intelligently. The final vocal “bring it all back to me” is quite plaintive, and after the subject dies, we get an interesting mix of electronica and a pretty guitar sequence, an interesting mix for sure, the guitar especially evoking a sense of some form of space wonderer, or whale lost in the vast ocean crying out. As the track moves to its conclusion, there is a nice jazz vibe going on, Atmos playing with his sounds and producing something indelibly pleasing, including a pretty voice proving that the man can, indeed, produce a nice vocal noise.

We come, then, to the album’s centrepiece, The Stardust Medley. Eleven parts, with four wholly instrumental, it is a massive slab of music, in parts sweeping and panoramic. The spoken words are a mix here, the natural sounding voice far preferable. The opening suite, Up, Up, and Away, is full of childlike wonder, dreaming of a future in the stars. Instrumental Launch is an interesting slab of experimental electronica. Floating details the moments breaking free from the earth’s atmosphere, the launch sequence always fascinating to me, and the words express this well, with the insides shaking.

The song details a trip to Mars, and the instrumental Mars Landing is a nice, dreamy sequence with effects detailing a calmness to proceedings before the excitement mounts at the achievement, some nice guitar chords and percussion producing something I can only describe as celebratory Caribbean rock – it sounds better than my description, no doubt!

I Can’t Go Home is almost like one of those 1950’s British sci-fi movies, with a mad professor pronouncing against authority. Great bass riff, though. Staying continues this, with a plea from the explorer to die silently amidst some stark effects.

Life on Mars? is quite lovely, with a wholly beautiful piano solo set against some nice synth overlays. Back is a commentary from afar on the perceived fate of the explorer, reminding one very much of classic Bowie with Major Tom all those years ago.

Stardust is dreamy, in the spirit of Kubrick’s 2001 psychedelic sequence. He’s Gone rocks out with a nice guitar riff, cleverly understated before we get some more of that very interesting, ghostly in parts, electronica. The reprise of this is a bit stranger, interesting lyrically, but crying out, I feel, for a song as opposed to a spoken piece.

Atmos I contains more than enough to make me eager to hear what this artist does next. The album contains some very interesting themes and will certainly appeal to those of you who like their prog to take a sci-fi thematic feel. It is good, and with some collaboration I think Atmos could develop into a very strong artist.