It is one of the more surprising political developments of 2025 that there is now a serious backlash against the established science of climate change. There have always been extremes in the debate, as there are in all such “conversations”, merely heightened by the madhouse that is social media, but the prevalence of outright deniers even in relatively intelligent journals is certainly increasing.
Like most people, I try to take a pragmatic approach. To deny what is blindingly obvious strikes one as inherently stupid, driven, at least in part, by the usual corporate interests. Neither, though, do I think we are in imminent danger of going to hell in a handcart, but with sensible, rational, action in conjunction with science, we can alleviate the worst of eventualities before it is too late.
The above two paragraphs are probably as political as this website ever gets, because although I do have strident and forceful political views, I keep them away from my love of writing about music, but in the case of The Emerald Dawn’s sixth studio album, The Land, The Sea, The Air (Volume 1), a discussion such as this is not to be avoided, because the entire concept of the album is about the damage that human beings are doing to this planet’s environment, something I believe is absolutely irrefutable.
Released via Worlds End Records, the lineup of Ally Carter (electric guitars, saxophones and keyboards), Tree Stewart (keyboards, flute, acoustic guitar and HandSonic), Dave Greenaway (bass, fretless and upright basses), and Tom Jackson (drums), have produced not merely a statement about the science of climate change, but also one about how they are fundamentally moving forward as a band. They are, without doubt, one of the major forces in modern UK progressive rock, and I am, incidentally, really looking forward to finally seeing and meeting them at Fusion 2026.
It is released October 7th, and you can get your copy on their Bandcamp page https://theemeralddawn.bandcamp.com/album/the-land-the-sea-the-air-volume-i I heartily recommend that you do so. We have 46 minutes of music, with four tracks including two of epic length. Pure prog bliss! Let’s discuss them. Oh, before we do, let us once again reflect in awe at the stunning artwork Tree has produced, and which I replicate on these pages.
We start off with Dancing with the Spirit, just shy of six minutes instrumental music. Jackson’s drum roll introduces us to a wonderful jazz fusion piece, some complex percussion work, the guitar of Ally Carter wonderfully intricate, the bassline of Dave Greenaway holding it all together, whilst the keyboards create the perfect soundscape above it all. The sound of Carter on his sax takes this ethereal sense to another level, the band engaged in a musical jig with Earth, Mother Earth. This track gives up more on each listen, full of mystery but in an engaging beat with the final passage morphing into a pure classic rock delight, the guitar leading the charge, the skins thumping as if for the planet’s very soul.
Under Changing Skies is just shy of seventeen minutes. The lyrics are spot on, in that continuing with an economic and political system which could very well lead to catastrophe is a madness a fool might defend (wonderful turn of phrase). It is essentially a call to action for the rest of us, challenging citizens not to look away. The flute as we begin the first movement, Floating Clouds, is full of eastern mystery, with turns worthy of comparison with Anderson himself, and there is in the underpinning notes a sense of nervous anticipation and, I think, comparison with the great man in the dance between synths, flute, and a deep rhythm section below. Tree’s voice, when it enters the fray, is intense, meaning every syllable of the message, deep, enticing. The second movement, Industry, begins with one of those bass riffs prog lovers adore, and then the collective begin to rock out, the echoing drums thumping out the urgency of the message against the muck being spewed into our atmosphere, the synths then creating a trademark Emerald Dawn soundscape. The third movement, Flight, takes us back to that eastern vibe, the bassline so seductive, the synths evoking to me the spirit of lives past and future flying through the air, warning us of the peril we are in, the voice then portraying this lyrically perfectly. The final movement, The Reckoning, takes us to the core message, that said outcome will, quite simply, be our responsibility as much as the polluters if we continue to deny what is happening and ignore the blindingly obvious without fighting back, and the band provide the perfect backdrop to this, menacing and full of foreboding. Such a strong contender for this website’s annual “epic of the year” award.
While Oceans Die is the third track. Simply oceans of sorrow, once full of life, there to be exploited sensibly by man, now full of poison, creatures barely able to breathe. It is the second epic, just shy of the fourteen-minute mark, and it also contains four movements. The first is At the Coast in Early Morning Light, a delicious sax drawing us into the mood, watching the shimmering sea surrounded by the hills, the breathtaking beauty of nature, the synths tranquil, Tree’s perfectly describing the different moods an ocean brings to both the planet and its inhabitants, the sax bringing that to life. The second movement is On the High Seas, the guitar complex, telling us of the incredible bravery and planning which goes into a catch at sea, something this country’s leaders have lost sight of over many decades, I am afraid. The third movement is An Evening Storm, the eponymous event not merely a silly name on the weather forecast, but evidence of the transformation of our oceans into receptacles of muck chucked in by the most destructive force known to history, homo sapiens. There is a natural darker hue to proceedings here, Tree & Dave working so well together in creating the dystopia, with Tom producing some crashing drum riffs as the keyboards take us on a quasi-religious journey, the listener transported to a church in utter darkness with only the organ there to remind one that there is still life. The final movement is Night Approaches. The oceans of sorrow, Ally’s sax putting this across in stunning fashion, emotion oozing from each note, chanting bringing us to the conclusion, the musical storm sad.
We close with And We’re Left Wondering Why, essentially the political story of the past forty five years, our entire lives driven by the (so-called) free market, the promises of riches beyond our wildest dreams, all supposedly at little cost to us and our fellow human beings, yet amongst this, wonders showing the heights we can reach, such as walking on the moon, splitting the atom, all the while, though, racing towards a common end. As I said in my introduction, I hope that my opinion that we can, indeed, apply the brake and mature as a species comes to fruition. I do, naturally, understand why many are sceptical of this viewpoint. The start is very pastoral, from the bowels of Cornwall, a lovely part of our beautiful land, the interaction between voice, acoustic guitar, bass, and light percussion striking, a light synth soundscape over this before the main piece kicks in just over the two-minute mark, more urgency to the song. The vocals take on a pleading tone with the realisation that things could have been so different had we heeded the warning signs, the despair at our arrogance put across with aplomb. The final third is a glorious jazz infused delight, not exactly upbeat, but drawing together the album themes around Ally’s sax in an improvisation born of musicians entirely comfortable with each other’s moods and textures.
The Land, The Sea, The Air (Volume 1) quite simply makes you yearn for Volume 2 to be released at the earliest possible opportunity. It is a fine album which rewards repeated listening and attention from the listener and is highly recommended to you. Yet another dollop of sheer class in a musical year which keeps on giving.