ARENA - THE THEORY OF MOLECULAR INHERITANCE
It is a solid assumption that the UK Top Five chart singles (Sam Smith & Kim Petras, David Guetta & Bebe Rexha, Lewis Capaldi, One Republic, and Beyonce since you ask) at the time of writing this review in October 2022 will lyrically be variations on the themes of boy meets girl and shags said girl, is mean to our heroine, and how ruff it be in Da Hood. I say this with total confidence and safe in the knowledge that I do not need to expose my mind to said music to prove it. There are some elements of research for a music review which are asking a tad too much.
The Theory of Molecular Inheritance, the tenth studio album by British veterans Arena, does not include any of the above themes, a fact which should reassure all readers of this review who by the very fact you are here appreciate something intelligent in your music. Clive Nolan has written lyrics which deal with the fascinating subject of quantum physics, specifically a theory that a molecule in one point of space & time can be entangled with another molecule elsewhere. In English, this means that a special molecule belonging to a genius such as Beethoven can wind up in another body in another time and inspire genius in its new host. Incidentally, there are many philosophers who believe that the basis of quantum physics is the scientific realisation of millennia of thought and belief in an afterlife. A tad more interesting than a standard boy meets girl narrative, you will agree.
By the way, you might be interested to know that the academic quoted in the Digipack booklet, Luis Nasser, as well as being a teacher of mathematical physics is also a bass guitarist and plays with Might Could, Sonus Umbra, and Silver Pipe. Here is a video of a track from the last Sonus Umbra album.
This album has all the pomp and circumstance intermingled with emotion we expect from Arena. Indeed, when Damian Wilson in his debut recording with them starts an operatic chant on Time Capsule, you smile to yourself and welcome the band back like a good old friend. Wilson is now their fifth vocalist, and he joins founder members Nolan and Mick Pointer together with longstanding collaborators John Mitchell and Kylan Amos. I thoroughly enjoyed 2018’s Double Vision and this new effort takes its overarching themes and “back to basics” mood forward very effectively. It is a triumph and enjoyable from start to finish.
So, off we go. Time Capsule opens with a wall of sound and that operatic cry by Wilson before the story proper kicks off. Immediately noticeable are Wilson’s mix of the dramatic and the melodic, Amos & Pointer thumping out the rhythm (I always thought the latter was unfairly vilified by many Marillion fans and these two put in an incredible shift on this album), alongside the trademark Nolan keys soaring above and Mitchell’s always intelligent chords, and the first of his gorgeous solo riffs arrives just short of four minutes in. The lyrics themselves talk of the discovery of a fifty-year hidden laboratory, and the track is a very impressive start to proceedings.
The Equation (The Science of Magic) exemplifies the theme of intelligent thought put to music I referred to at the start of this review. Imagine showing a gun to a Stone Age Man (although he would soon learn how to kill with it), or a video film, men walking around a plague-ridden village in hazmat suits, all images very familiar to us, but alien to those in the past. What we don’t understand is called magic, alchemy, and the central message is that this is as true now as it was millennia ago. The piano and a delicate vocal set the scene perfectly. When the main segment kicks in, we are treated to an operatic prog rock treat with the protagonist certain of his work raging against those who refuse to understand, and Wilson raging “People called me mad – But what do they all know!” is tone perfect, and the chorus of This Is My Equation shows that the band have lost absolutely none of their expansionist commercial roots. This track made me rather sad that the recent tour took them nowhere near the rural area I live in (perfectly understandably) because it would have set the audience alight, I know.
21 Grams is next up. How much does a soul weigh? What, precisely, is its worth, and where does it go when you pass? 21 grams is, indeed, a meagre price for the essence of a life. Saying this, a concept which continues to fascinate me (you know, what is the point of it all, & etc.) and is not precisely a barrel of laughs when expressed in such terms is perhaps surprisingly an uplifting piece musically. The underscore of bass and drums are particularly impressive supporting some revolving guitar chords before halfway in we get another explosion of sound, and the tempo continues in this rollocking vein providing succour to all longstanding Arena fans.
Confession is the shortest track on the album at 2:20 but says as much in this short period as any epic of yore in the band’s back catalogue, beautifully telling the story of a tortured soul who has lost everything to his obsession to finding the scientific truth. Wilson has always been a sumptuous vocalist, and this wonderful piece of music showcases his talents perfectly with some lovely chords by Mitchell and Nolan adding to the surround speaker delights.
Next up is The Heiligenstadt Legacy. This provides a neat link to the Beethoven narrative referred to above. Heilgenstadt is a town in Austria adjoining the River Danube, and is where, when his hearing was failing him, the great composer, whose work will survive as long as mankind (perhaps longer), wrote his famous testament, a letter to his brothers contemplating suicide but which, in fact, gave him a new lease of life and creativity, as witnessed by the final words of the track, “in this cold and noiseless state, I must continue to create”. The dramatic piano and vocals that start have a sense of drama and emotion with some delicate keys before the two-minute mark when we witness an explosion of noise and the tempo after this is picked up intelligently, as are the lyrics perfectly talking about the inherent contradiction of the sadness and loneliness of depression combined with a need to create and be heard. This is an exceptional piece of music and is worth the entrance fee alone.
Field of Sinners (Case 1) talks of a molecular link to a past not in the distinguished company of Beethoven, but an “Axe-Man”. The subject insists that he is sane but wants to follow the chain and act in the manner of his molecular forebear. The music accompanying this madness is suitably gothic and atmospheric, with Nolan and Mitchell creating a dark, swirling, pastiche with some strong foundations provided by Amos & Pointer. The Mitchell riff which kicks in at five minutes is powerful and well executed.
Pure of Heart follows and is an interesting discourse on whether the molecular inheritance can override the individual who struggles to keep the demon out. Amos pulls out a classic bass riff whilst the guitar and synth chords are entrancing. After a minute, we get another explosion of sound and this is a very good heavy rock track examining musically these inner demons very nicely, and the chorus of keeping the demons out should, in a better world, be a radio standard.
Under the Microscope is an interesting commentary on how obsession can be the mother of discovery and creation. The choral “Can’t you see it shining like the sun?” vocal passage drips with emotion and the guitar riff which follows together with atmospheric keys accompanied by a seriously heavy rhythm section is exceptional. This track really was made for the stage, and I love it. It is the longest on the album just short of seven minutes long, and Mitchell treats us to a burst of sheer guitar passion as only he can. Utter class in every single note.
Integration lyrically takes us to the heart of the theory, with those molecules of life spreading through time and taking hold like a virus. Is talent down to nature or to nurture? This is, of course, something humankind has been asking forever, and, by the way, a conversation every single knowing parent has about their offspring, whether they turn out to be talented or a disappointment. Nolan’s keyboard on this is joyful and defiantly uplifting, and when Mitchell joins him, and you hear the bass and drum pounding under these, you forget about all the depressing news we hear, excepting, perhaps, to wish that some of those talented molecules would bond with some of our present-day political leaders. God knows, we could do with it. Put that aside, though, because this is at its heart a gorgeously uplifting piece of music.
Part Of You is the penultimate track and is a fascinating discourse between the discoverer of the truth and the past personality which drove him along. Mitchell turns in a wonderful guitar passage which reminds me strongly of Knopfler at his best. Nolan provides us with drama on his keys and the piece explodes in a chaotic fashion driven by thundering bass and drums, but always keeping at its heart a wonderful commercial rock vibe and the orchestration at the denouement is wonderful. Sadly, you are not likely to hear it on anything outside of the wonderful internet radio biosphere, but if there are any BBC or Virgin Radio Producers reading this review, get it on, will you? Play your listeners something interesting outside of your wretched “playlists”.
The album closes with Life Goes On, which is quite simply a paeon to the mix of science and faith. Our existence here is only a part of the universe, and it is here that I empathise with the album and Nolan very much. I am a man of faith, but I am not a man of organised religion, responsible for many ills in our history. I do deeply believe that there must be a purpose to all of this, an infinity of souls as the song transposes. The final passage musically soars alongside Wilson’s forceful emotive insistence that life does go on. Brilliant and deeply moving.
The Theory of Molecular Inheritance finds this grand band in extremely rude health. It is an extremely thoughtful and well performed album and up there with the best of 2022. I have enjoyed the contributions of all Arena vocalists throughout the years, and, besides, I am not particularly keen on “best of” comparisons, especially as I have enjoyed all their albums. So, let us say this. Wilson is a mighty fine addition to the line-up, as we knew he would be, and he is the perfect vocalist for this iteration of the band. Long may he remain so, and long may the band continue to delight us.
A final word. The CD I pre-ordered cost £20, and this has led to some grumbles online. The official release date is next week, and I will say this. I think the price is worth paying. It is a class album from a class band whose discography is a valued part of my collection. It is, I believe, a price worth paying for ensuring that the artists we enjoy so much can continue to record and tour.
First album with Damian Wilson on vocals, this tenth release by British veterans is exceptional