One of the nicest things about running a website such as this, as I have mentioned before, is the joy of discovering something new. Fresh music, artists you have not come across before who deserve a wider audience.
Turning Virtue are a new band to these ears but have been an outfit since 1982 when three Buffalo chaps, David Karczewski (Davey K) on vocals, guitars and bass, Mark “Spicoli” Hellanbach on guitars, and DPA on bass came together and remain so, a fantastic level of longevity. Look at their website at www.turningvirtue.com to see about them and for details on how to order the latest album I review today together with the back catalogue.
He Held The Sun Captive is a seriously fine album, and it is released on August 16th. Before we talk about the music, a word about the personnel. There is a reason the LP sounds so good, and that is owing to the involvement as producer of Tim Palmer (also contributing additional guitars & keyboards) who has twiddled the knobs for such alumni as Bowie, Percy, Porcupine Tree, and U2. Not a bad track record, then.
The artwork on this is stunning and deserves recognition in its own right. Entitled Sun Eater, it is created by Kiren Bagchee, who has an impressive portfolio at https://www.artstation.com/kirenbagchee
The album features the skins work of Leprous star, Baard Kolstad. They are a fine band, and the class of Kolstad shines on this album. Elsewhere, we have further, “live” drums from Rob Thurman, keys from Dan Sciolino, the guitar solo on When We Were Gods from Darren Burns, who I believe is unwell at present – we wish him well, and similar on Facilitation from Gavin Bushell.
This is a concept album, and part one of a planned two album balm to our listening senses. To quote from the album sleeve;
“Now is the time to understand more,
so that we may fear less”
“Today stands between yesterday and tomorrow”.
The band have revealed some teaser moments on YouTube, and I have embedded these below.
Of the concept and main character, Karczewski states “this is a fucking dark album, it’s melancholy, mysterious, and even a bit vulgar.
Our main character might feel liberated but soon realizes it’s just the beginning.
As they say, the moment before letting go is often when we grip the hardest.”
So, we start off with Facilitation. Take a look at this stunning image embedded below which describes perfectly “when the final blade is curved, quietly driven in your back, it’s how dessert is served”, thus proving the dark bit as stated above!
The piece is just short of epic length, and you immediately notice a gorgeous bass melody before sitting up and appreciating the vocal tones of Karczewski, a gorgeous voice with that sometimes-illusive combination of fragility and power. There is some fine guitar work, and the whole piece is held together so well by a strong rhythm section and keys which play that layering and effects role. Not far short of six minutes in, we get a nice funk-driven interlude before the whole piece takes quite a dark turn with the subject urging the victim to say his name repeatedly as it turns him on, and the theme continues, the notes decidedly dystopian, and the final segment is what I think of as the justification for the act of the curved blade driven into the back, and the pace picks up, with voices coming at you from everywhere, dark and heavy riffs in a stark denouement.
When We Were Gods follows. The victim here is illustrated with the shining hole in the midriff where the blade entered. Once, he and they were gods, with doting queens. Now, they are dogs, with loathing bitches in what could be seen as a commentary on modern western society. This is a shorter track just over six minutes long, but it packs a huge amount in, and is very thoughtful, understated, but with very clear commercial sensibilities, certainly one to be enjoyed by fans of Porcupine Tree’s music. The vocals shine here, and I like the synths which provide a quiet futuristic backdrop. The segment some four minutes in is dreamy, a psych-infused delight as the whole piece builds in intensity making way for a class solo burst from Burns.
Inimicus is the Latin for enemy. It has another bright and breezy start, infused with American psych. Time ticks away, ticking away, in a track of being lost, outcast, once believed in, but now never to be heard of again, like so many gods and rituals which preceded our Christian hegemony and the political “leadership” obsession of modern times, all will vanish and be replaced by others. There is a gorgeous guitar halfway through this which serves as the introduction to a complete change of mood and intensity, with spoken word acting as a polemic against fear and the greatest enemy, that which lies within. When this is over, the tinkling piano brings us back to the overarching dreamy core of the song, entreating us not to engage with why, but in how, again a decent reference to much of the ills which beset modern democracies. The guitar solo which leads the closing segment drips with feeling, a lament and is stunning.
The album closes, appropriately, with Denouement, opening with a dirtier, grunge vibe. I really like the percussion on here, rattling the mood and setting the scene dramatically. The track allows the hero’s mind to be free at last after the setting of the sun, these vocals so powerful in their laidback intensity. After this, the drum work is the core, with voices, guitar, swirling bass, and keys providing for a heavy symphonic delight, before the closing passage which I can only really describe as akin to a modern take on classic Rush, so if you think of A Farewell to Kings as it might sound in 2024, you will be somewhere near. By this, I do not mean derivative at all, I mean in mood and certainly in staggeringly good production values. The short words are repeated almost mournfully as the song and album draws to a melancholic close.
Highly recommended, a joy to listen to. Eclectic, a variety of moods and sounds, all delivered with more than a bit of panache.