Formed as The Erin Bennett Band, EBB are an outfit utterly beloved by us at Progzilla Radio. I have lost count of the number of times this gloriously eclectic and fascinating outfit have been namechecked in our weekly station presenter calls, not least commenting on how they have garnered a fanatically admiring live following, and I am really looking forward to checking this out myself in 2026.
In the studio world, on 30th November, they released their sophomore full length album (the impressive Mad & Killing Time was out in 2022), The Mirror.
I think their self-description on their Bandcamp page, thus; “the resulting music performance and, these days, video and live actors, is best described as bespoke, rather than pleasingly generic”; is one of the best and most accurate I have seen in recent years. You can, incidentally, spend your hard earned at https://ebbband.bandcamp.com/music
The artwork accompanying this music is simply stunning, and together with the equally impressive Spriggan Mist, this collective represents the best of modern theatrical, visual, roots progressive rock, and are, quite simply, a fine example of just why this beloved quality music we listen to has a healthy future. It is different, and that is to be celebrated. I could wax lyrical far more, but the wonderful radio station has done it before, so I bow to their wisdom with this link; https://progzilla.com/ebb/ The dedication, especially to Mike Whitfield (always his fault), in the CD notes is touching.
So, nine pieces of music to discuss, something unlike most music you have heard before.
Evenfall kicks us off. It serves as an overture to the album, a self-reflection, the ethereal lead voice of Bennett immediate, the harmonies filling the senses, some wonderful work on the piano as a lead from Nikki Francis, and background soundscapes, an emotionally charged opening, the lone voice detailing the reflection at the close very effective.
Reason follows. It addresses a mind, heart, being which has grown cold, emotionally distant and promises to warm that inner self. A long track, just shy of nine minutes, it bursts into life from the outset, the piano work again impressive, Bennett a consummate lead guitarist, and a fine introduction to the rhythm section of Anna Fraser on the sticks and Bad Dog on bass, providing a solid melodic hard rock core. There is a classic rock sensibility to this fine track, atmospheric, distinctly catchy, the lead riffs superb. It is embedded below, the music shaking the listener alive in the manner of the subject, building to an emotionally charged conclusion, growing in stature with each listen.
No One’s Child is next, interesting in its contrasts of the scars of sunrise set against the glow of night, a child who no one claimed and no one showed how to be alive, something I take as a possible commentary on so many children who grow up in an impersonal digital playground bereft of soul and meaning, the freedom when this is shed palpable. Music in the background to start introducing dystopian synths, the piano not lively here, but darker, the guitar riffs distorted imagining the pain, bass guitar thumping out the heartbeats of the lost in a fascinating mix of the classic art rock, modern post rock, and electronic rock, some of the synths recalling the finest of Numan’s dystopian work. Dark to its core, and simply superb.
The epic length title track follows, and I played this on my radio show last Saturday. Needless to say, it was warmly welcomed in the chat room. Lyrically, it is fascinating, such an intelligent song which invites the listener to not only seek out its meaning, but ultimately, his or her own attitude to this existence, with me particularly thinking about the soul, killed in its sleep by the ones in control, a direct personal contradiction in my time here as a lifelong government employee, but you realise that generations past sacrificed so much to enable us the freedom to follow our spirit and speak out against iniquities. This musical wonder is embedded below for you to enjoy. I would recommend putting it on at night, turning out the lights, closing your eyes, shut out those demons, grab a decent single malt, and allow the flame of the inner being to come alive, with a stunning lead vocal acting as your guide, the harmonies striking, the acoustic guitar urgent, the synthscapes soaring, before some gorgeous funk infused jazz rock takes you to the next level, spiritually following the soul infused piano and lilting words urging you to follow. Impossible to categorise, really, so let’s simply state that this incredible song must ensure your reviewer revisits his website awards to reflect modern progressive genius encapsulated in eleven minutes of near perfection. Brilliant.
How do you follow that? EBB do it with That’s How it Goes, which strikes me as a deeply personal reflection on the impact familial alcoholism can have upon otherwise loved ones, and some of the fatalism which inevitably comes after repeated episodes and hiding after. Perhaps surprisingly, the opening bars are filled with jazzy goodness, the Hammond, guitar, percussion, effects combining to create what I take as a deliberately sunny pastiche to push back against the darkness the subject creates, a way of coping, a dichotomy of emotions. A third of the way in, the track provides for a more traditional prog rock feel, the guitar solo haunting, leading us to a very thoughtful passage of music, voice, clarinet, flute, alongside organ and rhythm section to build a dramatic denouement, the piano and guitar dissonant, an angry conclusion.
Cuckoo, that parasitic bird laying its eggs in the hosts nest, but in this context, transposed to the alien genetic strain in us, the enemy inside. This is a relatively short track in the context of the album, and I hear a distinct vocal tribute at the start to the incredible Scottish artist, Hazel O’Connor. Francis is a very talented musician, and her flute solo on this is as good as any such passage I have heard in recent years, oozing with emotion and evoking the naughty bird playfully transplanting its offspring amongst the hosts. The guitar solo extends this, the dramatic chords telling us when the dirty deed is done. A pastoral delight.
Take to the Stars is a love song, the thrill of passion, bringing with it the pain of separation. It is another long piece, just over nine minutes, the mellotron setting the scene perfectly at the start, a violin in the mix, a racy guitar riff, the rhythm section beating out the passion underneath swirling synths, with a lovely bass melody taking the lead as the main piece takes over. There are some lovely harmonies on this, but Bennett really does emote as lead, the piano again pushing the feelings along with her. The five-minute mark brings with it a gloriously blues-infused guitar lead, Bennett taking this as her cue for voice oozing feeling, the final third soaring as the urge to be together overcomes all else.
Day 19 is the penultimate track, the fraught pain and emotion of “being on the rag” lending itself to the full range of emotions and behaviours. The deep flute which opens the track is mysterious, promising much emotion, infused with mysticism, the riffs which then take equal footing then angry, the whole mood displaced, bitter, confused, as good an expression of feminine post rock you will hear, daring men to understand, comment, ultimately simply be in the face of the screaming and laughing.
We close with Geneva. Lyrically beautiful. Searching for your soul, looking for comfort, and when leaving, carrying a part of your love forever inside. The lead vocal really is so striking, emotional, descriptive, all against harmonies, acoustic guitars beating out the heart of the song before we get an outburst of symphonic proggy goodness, piano, voice, synths, bass, drums taking us on a journey of expression, passion, comfort, the heights reached moving one deeply.
Just when I thought that the Lazland cry of “an essential purchase” might have reached its natural conclusion in 2025, along come a very special band to stick their tongues and two fingers up to me and demand I retract such innocent nonsense.
The Mirror is superb from a band not only finding their feet, but taking them on a marathon of taste, such a wide-ranging set of influences all melded into a cohesive and joyful whole.
It’s an essential purchase. Well, it is almost Christmas!