In 2023, I and the contemporary progressive rock world received an extremely welcome surprise when one of the foremost music critics we have in Thomas Szirmay and his old friend Jeremie Arrobas as Enigmatic Sound Machines announced the release of their debut release, Telepathic Waves – clicking on the button below will take you to my review of this, and what was a revelation to me was just how good it was. By this, what I mean is most critics such as I tend to have all the musical ability of Winnie the Pooh. Yes, I think I write comfortably well, and like to think I have a decent ear for quality music, but write music and play it? More chance of my starring in a movie alongside Dame Judy Dench.
Telepathic Waves, as you can see from my review, was an album awash with pop/rock electronica, and I knew from correspondence with my finest friend in the music world that work had started immediately between him and Jeremie on the sophomore effort. Come May 2024, we have the final result, The Hierarchies of Angels, which is available via Bandcamp at https://enigmaticsoundmachines.bandcamp.com/album/the-hierarchies-of-angels and can also be streamed via Spotify and iTunes.
So, what have this fine Canadian duo presented us with? It is certainly what most readers of this review on my website would recognise as more “progressive” with some longer compositions. They have also brought in some guests to assist in the creation of their work, with legendary prog/fusion bassist Hansford Rowe (Gong, Gongzilla, and HR3), as well as two guitarists Shane Hoy (The Dylans) and Alain Roig.
The work is split into two distinct chapters. The first is entitled The Eternal Search, taking in the first six pieces, and the second, The After Party. The Eternal Search is a journey, The After Party a commentary on the world in which we live, so we have a huge amount to get our teethes into here. Let’s go.
We open with the title track, over seven minutes long describing instrumentally a caravan on a journey crossing a desert. I have embedded this below, an adventurous effect laden piece which combines the best of Rajaz from Camel with that signature electronica of this duo, imbued with sense of rhythm and adventure, strong drums a notable feature. A powerful start, and some of the guitar work is welcome and noticeable.
This segues into Inside Nowhere, looking plaintively for an oasis of salvation. The keys and guitars are haunting, the piano gorgeous, and the words “inside nowhere, you can find everything” step up to the Enigmatic plate, surely. When Hansford Rowe enters the fray, you recognise the sheer quality, and he brings a definitive fusion sensibility to the music. Searching, plaintive, swimming in an eternal sea, and angry at times with the crashing drums set against the swirling keys.
Blurred presents a hallucinogenic scene of a lover and falling into the stars. The opening notes are pretty and dreamy, but with an underlying sense of the unknown as the track develops, especially when the bass notes dominate, and remind me of some of the finer commercial psych pop of the late ‘60’s and early ‘70’s, and the vocals have that sort of nostalgic sense, expanded by the choral effects in the final minute. It really is extremely good, and I have embedded it below.
After the Flood is the longest track here, an eight minute plus instrumental. It is, perhaps, on this that the duo really shows how much their sound has advanced and expanded since the debut, beguiling with a cracking bass melody, crashing tubs, and an altogether orchestral feel above the delicate guitar chords. As it develops, I am reminded of Physical Graffiti era Led Zeppelin in parts, and we have a fusion of the classic and the contemporary, with the final passage a jazz-soaked delight.
Walking Thru Walls provides us with a vision of perdition, that place where all you sinners are damned to go to as part of an eternal punishment for wrongdoing. Initially, it all sounds a bit brighter than the subject matter would have us believe, but this is an illusion itself, because the circle of notes and words provide us with that sense of the eternal, the repetition of images the damned are presented with personified by the thumping notes and drums, including the missiles of fire raining down. There is more a hint of Gabriel in this one, I think, in some of his more experimental moments. The close is dramatic, and we then move into the final part of the chapter, Kill Switch, everything shut down. It is a highlight of the year, thus far. Lyrically, it puts me in mind of the attempted demise of Paul Atriedes in the first Dune sequel, a track which puts across mental and physical torment extremely well, a progressive rock song rooted in the tradition of storytelling and a very suitable close to a personal journey over a traditional first side of an album, stark vocals and the close bleak and harsh.
Chapter Two, then. It deals with modern socio-political situations. It opens with You Want, an extremely powerful evocation of the individualistic greed which dominates western society and might well, incidentally, prove to be its eventual downfall. This is a powerful track, dark, full of the inherent contradictions of much of the noise witnessed in modern discourse, especially in the bearpit of social media. The piano thumps and creates a dystopia, the synths accuse, the whole piece draws the listener in.
Something Evil gives us the power of the dark side, with the personification of human evil seeking a sinful man or woman to take him/her into his lair, but with the entrancing rhythm which people found so irresistible in the opening days of what not so long-ago society found to be the ultimate evil, namely rock n’ roll, the heathens of the blues dragging the children into their wicked world. We, of course, do rather love that boogie woogie, though, especially when it is set against such an electronic dystopia.
The Preacher continues this theme, with the price of salvation set out starkly, Thomas providing us with his sermon (he is a natural!). Think if you will of electronic rock infused with the southern blues, and you will get somewhere near to this wonderful exposition of the inherent fear of threatening religion and the sense of panic the music explosion of the ’50’s inculcated in the God-fearing.
It’s a Lie is a tale of love, desire, and deception in a sort of romantic progressive electronic love song, the organ particularly mood creating, and the vocals perfectly fitting the mood, which darkens considerably when the deception takes centre stage.
Stand Fall is the penultimate track, and it is embedded below, a magnificent commentary on the human condition, this wonderful species with all its ridiculousness and, at times, genius and wonder. This track is knowing and very clever, the bass lead is very good and the whole thing throbs with energy, possibly closer to the pop electronica feel of the debut album than anything else here, featuring a wonderful mini-Moog segment.
We close with When You Suffer, with its road to redemption, five minutes of a natural conclusion to a fine album. The mood is suitably reflective as individual and society ask questions of themselves and God, with some hard hitting piano against questing keys and a hypnotic drum loop underneath.
In my opinion, one of the key features of the music we listen to is whether the artists progress, develop, provide something new, and ESM most certainly do that with this release. At turns, very progressive, very rhythmic, very blues and roots culture, jazz-infused, angry, questing, searching, so pretty much everything that the curious listener will want to discover in a work which gives up more of its depth with each listen.