A cracking cover and a mighty fine album, Fauna finds Haken in rude health

This website owes a huge amount to Ross Jennings, vocalist of English outfit Haken. It was his 2022 (excellent) collaboration with Neal Morse & Nick D’Virgilio entitled Troika which, following a refusal by the good Burghers of Prog Archives to add them to their hallowed forum (not “prog enough”), finally prompted me to take the plunge and go my own way, something I really should have done far earlier. Better late than never, though, and as we approach the first anniversary of the setting up of www.lazland.org, we have the release of Fauna, the seventh studio album from his day job.

My introduction to the band, probably alongside most readers of this review, was the exceptional The Mountain, released in 2013. Fauna follows Virus and its related predecessor, Vector, which received somewhat mixed reviews.

I was looking forward to this, especially after seeing the label, Inside Out, provide shots of the exceptional album art, provided by Dan Goldsworthy. You can see him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/dangoldsworthyartist/ and I instantly thought to myself that art so good couldn’t possibly contain music anything less than excellent, surely?

There is an overarching theme to this album, brilliantly exemplified by the artwork, and that is every track having an animal spirit assigned to it with a connection to the human world (the original concept was based upon Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?). The album is also notable for the fact that original keyboardist Peter Jones (no, not that one) returns to replace Diego Tejeida, and I might add that Jones does have a huge artistic impact upon proceedings.

The album features nine original songs and weighs in at just over an hour. Most of the reviews I have seen are positive, and I have to say that so is mine. Fauna is a very well-produced album, sonically crystal clear, and contains a pleasing mix of styles in its output.

For those of the prog epic preference, there is an absolute cracker in the eleven-minute Elephants Never Forget. I love the fun start with piano and guitars exchanging quirks, before the sound explodes into life. As Jennings starts to sing, there is some wonderful technical music before some commercial sensibilities come in with the “I remember” initial segment. This song has it all - it is at turns entrancing, operatic, expansively heavy, and simply very good. I have seen some state that it is Haken “doing” Gentle Giant, and the influence is there to be sure in some segments, but I think there is much more going on. Overall, though, my impression is of a band having wonderful fun recording it and that being transmitted in spades to the listener, especially evoking a better way of living.

My personal favourite, though, is the intriguingly named Sempiternal Beings, this being a philosophical concept of life unchanging & everlasting, and I believe the lyrics refer to us as eternal guardians of the world with all the responsibility that brings. The drum pattern underneath Jennings questing voice in the initial segment is fantastic before a lonely guitar and voice give way to the main piece of music, at turns delicate and then very heavy. I simply love the pastoral effect which is introduced five minutes in and then the real sense of menace in the build-up to the explosion of noise and a fine guitar riff. The final minute provides a wonderful operatic theatre, and this closes a very strong piece of music.

There have been four singles released from the album.

Nightingale was released eleven months ago at the time I write this review. Jones introduces us with a contrast between wistful keys and disturbing noises before the band enter with a flourish. As this settles, we get a jazzy jam interspersed with heavy bursts, and Connor Green is very noticeable on bass guitar. It talks of the nightingale’s cautionary tales and there is a dystopian feel to much of the song until the nightingale itself starts to sing and the gloom is washed away by a wonderful dreamy vocal supported by a rhythmic drum riff. The heaviness reasserts itself with a very menacing guitar riff to close.

The Alphabet of Me opens with a very punchy keyboard sequence, and the vocals are (to some, very frighteningly) modern, and this is especially noticeable when the funky brass comes into play. A track of the 2020’s and it could easily be by any of the best-selling artists you see in the charts. This is, naturally, somewhat disconcerting, especially when the rap comes into play “falling like dominos”. Of course, the band reassert themselves in terms of heavy riffs and the subsequent psych-heavy guitars and keys alongside Jennings dreaming. As Dick put to music, it is very clever, and the more I have listened to the track, the more I have enjoyed it.

Taurus was released in January, and is an analogy for the situation of refugees fleeing war and wildebeests fleeing predators. The guitar chords which open are urgent and dark, there are some very heavy passages, but there are again some clear commercial sensibilities in this song, especially listening to Jennings lamenting the numbers on the move dripping with emotion. Impressive stuff.

Lovebite is the latest single and references the Black Widow mating ritual (it never ends well for the dear chap) and inspired musically by one Phil Collins and lyrically by death metal brigade, Cannibal Corpse – fascinating, really. The video above is fun, and I love the funk at the heart of this short piece of music, a real highlight of the year so far wearing its influence on its heart, even if the “oh, way, oh” backing lyrics are sufficient to strike fear and loathing in all the “purest” prog hearts and minds. As with Riverside’s opening gambit Friend or Foe earlier this year, this is a loving nod to popular culture, and it is performed very well. Fun.

Elsewhere, there are three remaining tracks, Beneath the White Rainbow, Island in the Clouds, and closer Eyes of Ebony. The former is a traditional heavy rocker infused with a touch of eastern mystery and is enjoyably anthemic, although the megaphone segment grates a bit to these ears - perhaps a shorter track by a couple of minutes could have been a decent single. The middle track of these three directly follows, is staccato in nature and somewhat subdued, lacking a flow until the wonderful (short) final passage when the whole piece explodes into life and noise, led by Jones really stamping his authority.

The closer is the second longest on the album, just over eight and a half minutes long. Lyrically and musically, it is melancholic. There are some fascinating keyboard effects, a right funky bassline, jazzy drums, an almost AOR passage of music, more traditional dark riffs, and a wonderful sixties psych pastiche to close with nods to their own past in a track which requires repeated listens to appreciate properly, and perhaps more than all others exemplifies the eclecticism on display and shows Haken in 2023 in a very positive light.

Fauna is a very good album. It will certainly appear on many end of year lists and is the sound of a band very comfortable within themselves and displaying a real confidence in their art. I don’t think it is a masterpiece, or even their best, but it is a fine listen and will certainly be played far more in this house than its immediate predecessor albums.