Dang, I think that was longer than my review.
I like to go for some rambling where I can.
Always wanted to try this, this is a good incentive to do it
Certainly a good idea. One of the finest prog metal albums out there.
Although I find the ballads a. Bit cheesy for my taste, it's still an amazing album, and one of my fav releases from 2012. Prog metal as it's ought to be written. Great choice.
Awesome album, one of the best prog metal albums I've heard in a long time.
#10 -
#8 -
Definitely amazing album, guys, I'm glad you appreciate it too. Pity it doesn't have a huge artbook or something, I would've bought it in a heartbeat.
Unfortunately I didn't connect with this one like you guys did - based on my song ratings I really enjoyed The Call and Triumph of Irreality but that's about the extent of it. Certainly not a bad album but not something I came back to much.
I agree.
I'm glad I wasn't the only one either.
Well guys, that's the tastes for ya. Can't please everyone, I guess. I just love it and never get tired of it.
Actually, I have a suspicion the next few (three) albums will leave some of following people quite cold, yet I might be wrong, so let's jump up to #7 and see! (At this moment, I'm immensely glad I've done all my writeups in advance, because I've got a hell at work now. Yay.)
#7On An IslandDavid GilmourGenre: art rock2006 There are different albums out there. See, there are daring, sad, grandiose, energetic, dark, thought-provoking records, a lot of various stuff on the music scene and in my list both, and then there are those breathtakingly beautiful, serene albums, which are just putting your soul into a state of complete tranquility, and your mind in peace. And I can sincerely claim On An Island is the most beautiful album I’ve ever heard. There are six records I enjoy more, but this is the essence of beauty entwined in music; I don’t even care what genre this album represents. I wrote an ambiguous “art rock” there, but there is progressive rock, blues, I don’t know, this genre can’t be described in the usual terms and expressions. I would’ve put “Gilmour rock” here, but it sounds overly pretentious, so we’ll just stick with art rock.
David Gilmour is simply my favourite musician in the world right now, there’s just no contest; but if I had to compare him with someone, it would be Mark Knopfler. The comparison isn’t in the amount of albums or anything, it’s clear Knopfler is much more prolific as of now, but it’s just the attitude the music shows. I can’t help but imagine how David is sitting somewhere on an island, resting on a beach marveling at the sunset, in a natural silence around him only with waves flowing and gushing at the coast, of course with his guitar in his hands, improvising and composing what would become On An Island later. And I know there has to be a lot of other equipment, but let’s just imagine he’s playing acoustic guitar. It’s Gilmour, after all, he can make the crabs and fishes on the shore cry and explode with overwhelming emotions after just a few arpeggios. And about that comparison, it’s just Knopfler’s music strikes me the same way, being oblivious about everything else, putting the very soul in music and getting a splendid result, that’s where both those guys exceed at. I guess it’s clear David isn’t doing the music for business and he certainly doesn’t want to rush things and press those albums every other year; On An Island is his soul speaking to us. Developing all those little ideas and flavouring them with his trademark sound, he managed to create a wondrous record, and he has every right to be proud of it. While some bands have the certain contracts with their labels that oblige them to release a studio album, say, every two years, this is not the case here. I can just imagine Gilmour telling the world “hey guys, I’m about to release my new album, got all the material written and ready, now I just need the label to release it”, and in a few hours there is enormous waiting line featuring every existing music label near his house or his studio or wherever he is.
On An Island is a wonderfully relaxed listen. The music is calm and minimalistic, the lyrics are peaceful and sedative; well, the whole record is just a huge effective demulcent, if you want to look at it that way. There are lots of trademark Gilmour solos where he makes his guitar weep, starting with stunning, sprawling notes in instrumental, guitar-oriented
Castellorizon, which begins in rather unimpressive, atmospheric ambient way until that famous black Stratocaster makes its presence known. This short yet deeply impressive solo paves the way for a title composition,
On An Island. This track represents the whole album in a classy fashion, featuring
David Crosby and
Graham Nash on backing vocals. The acoustic light-hearted, longing verses and choruses are setting up those climactic, soulful instrumental parts. The song reminds me of Time from Dark Side of the Moon, or Comfortably Numb for that matter, because despite the singing is quite good, what really make these songs shine are the solos between the vocal parts. The closing one is especially great, and though I’m not a fan of fadeouts, it actually works here. Of course I would rather hear this solo going on and on for another couple of minutes, but you can’t have everything.
The next song in a long string
of misfortunes of ballads is
The Blue, which for me has a distinctive Marooned vibe. It even has the line
“still marooned” in the lyrics, and I think Gilmour used the same pedal effect on the solo as he did in Marooned. I may be wrong on this assumption, because I’m not a musician whatsoever, but it makes sense for me. The song paints a nice, evocative picture of a blend of huge dead calm sea stretching before you and endless starry skies above you, colliding on the horizon. It’s just as peaceful as it gets, before the only rocker of the album, called
Take a Breath, makes its entrance. This one has a wary approach, keeping the tension up in the air, being the heckler among the hall of perfectly composed and imperturbable British gentlemen. It really feels like some kind of tumult and panic arises on the smooth surface of this musical pond, and at the first listen I started to think maybe this is some kind of breaking point of the record, and now the mayhem and heaviness along with a huge amounts of groove are coming my way, but hell no, I should’ve known better, for
Red Sky at Night sets the things right back where they belong. This magnificent, out of this world piece is only three minutes long, but it doesn’t need to be any longer. The beautiful, wistful saxophone melody played by Gilmour himself, and the subtle, dormant keyboard arrangements together weave a canvas of perfection unlike any other, being a precise representation of sunset in music, with its beauty and glory and sadness of another day in your life passing by. Then
This Heaven pulls us out of this dreamy reverie right back to where we were, offering the apparent blues influences in another rather energetic song. It’s nothing special, really, yet solid and a good fit into the record, and there is more great guitar playing by Gilmour, which is always welcome.
And with This Heaven ending we’re approaching the next four tunes which I tend to link together for some reason, probably the main cause for it is their ideas and serenity they provide, being alike in the mood. First of them,
Then I Close My Eyes is a marvelous instrumental piece. The best way to listen to it would be follow the title advice and just close your eyes while being somewhere far away from home on vacation, either on a seashore or on some clearing in the woods, huddling with your friends around the campfire in the evening. The experience is beyond any description, as is the splendor of this track. The next one,
Smile, wasn’t an all new one for ardent fans of David, because he started performing this one live in 2001 and it appeared on his DVD called David Gilmour In Concert. It’s a simple tune, yet it’s just another one you can’t help but imagine playing it somewhere over the countryside, sitting there with your beloved acoustic guitar. This kind of songs are always helpful to have when you need some form of distraction from all the shit happening with you at work or wherever; it’s just a four minutes of heartfelt singing and playing, but the effect is undeniable for me. Then
A Pocketful of Stones follows, combining the same calming, careless attitude of Smile with dramatic, thrilling, darker parts during the
“Rivers run dry, but there’s no line on his brow, says he doesn’t care who’s saved” lines.
Richard Wright’s work during this track is subtle yet impeccable, and the atmosphere changes mostly because of his choice of notes; keyboard makes this track along with the guitar solo bookending the track, which shares the same tension as that part I’ve mentioned, and I think is a bit different from usual Gilmour spacey playing (it doesn’t make it less lovely, though), and after that the album’s closer,
Where We Start, rolls in. It’s yet another wistful track and another great representation of an On An Island album in a nutshell. Depicting the romantic walk of two lovers through the forest, Gilmour makes use of both acoustic, electric guitar touches along with lovely keyboard sounds, and the lyrics he written for this song, combined with the way he sings it, are reaching to my very soul. This is the record’s peak of warmth, tenderness and finesse. Watching Remember That Night DVD and seeing the whole crew performing it along with Richard Wright with this keyboard run during the
“We waltz in the moonlight and the embers glow” part tend to bring tears to my eyes sometimes since September 2008.
Since I mentioned Remember This Night, we might as well talk about it too, as it is my favourite concert DVD ever. It just has this spark and this total lack of tension in everyone’s performance. All the guys, Gilmour, Wright, Crosby, Nash, el magnifico Mr.
Phil Manzanera and other people, they all look like they’re having the best time in their life. Ever.
Oh, and also, the
Robert Wyatt’s appearance. Aw.
While I can’t say I’m having the best time in my life watching the whole performance, it’s pretty damn close, actually. I don’t think I can count how many times I’ve watched this DVD, really. It just speaks directly to my heart, both first and second set. Any time I’m going anywhere on my vacation every year I make sure I take my laptop and this DVD with me, and one evening I will just sit there and watch it, once again, delving into this timeless music and expressing our thoughts about how outstanding this concert is. There’s just no better way to spend an evening.
Disclaimer: for the most satisfying experience you should listen to the whole album
Favourite tracks:
On An Island,
Red Sky at Night,
Then I Close My Eyes,
Smile,
A Pocketful of Stones,
Where We StartAnd I’m not sure I wrote about it before, but Echoes is my all-time favourite song, and as it appears in Remember That Night, with Richard Wright performing on keyboards, well, this fact played a huge role in RTN being my favourite live DVD ever.