Dr. A.N. Grier delivers the goods with a Top Ten(ish) of 2021 to shock and awe the unwashed masses. Experience it.
Liquid Tension Experiment
The Vicious Head Society – Extinction Level Event Review
“I’ve had a few occasions now where I stumbled upon a promo in the never-ending heap and was beset by a vague sense of recognition. I’ll set out on a search through our vast archives, swearing I’ve read a review of this band or that, until I finally find the record in question, only to discover that the author of the review was, in a twist of truly Shyamalanic proportions, myself. This was not the case, however, for The Vicious Head Society, whom I still remember well as one of the most nonsensical names for a band I’ve had to cast judgement upon.” Extinction level head.
Liquid Tension Experiment – LTE3 Review
“Believe it or not, it’s been roughly twenty-two years since the band’s last full-length. I know that LTE isn’t for everyone but it’s hard to deny the impressive instrumentation. Bringing acclaimed bassist Tony Levin on board took a potential this-is-just-Dream–Theater-without-James-LaBrie outfit, and made it mostly original. Sure, you can’t take the DT out of John Petrucci but, even then, it’s nice to hear the instruments without LaBrie’s voice.” Do androids dream of Liquid Tension Experiment theater?
Jordan Rudess – Wired for Madness Review
“I sit undressed, tied up in a chair. My spirit is broken, my body defiled. I look up at him, pleading: “Please, Mr. Rudess. No more.” Jordan Rudess, famed keyboard player for Dream Theater and Liquid Tension Experiment, looks down on me and simply laughs. With his one hand, he’s playing a keyboard. With the other, he’s playing himself. I want to beg for mercy, but another glob of mammal sauce strikes my face. “Argh!” I cry. “Right in the eye!” Multiple bodily fluids seep from my eye. Tears are among them. “What do you want from me?!” I scream. Jordan Rudess laughs. “Tell me I’m the greatest keyboard player in the world, adores by fans across the globe!”” Into the wank tank.
Semantic Saturation – Paradigms Review
“Welcome to Psych 102! Today we discuss the phenomenon of semantic saturation, or satiation. Ever hear a word so often it just becomes a sound and loses all meaning? Let’s try it here! Read this out loud, focusing on the sound of the word: juxtapose. Juxtapose. Juxtapose. Juxtapose. Juxtapose. Are you feeling it yet? Syrian/Canadian guitarist Shant Hagopian was, and he was feeling it with music rather than words. Developing an acute allergy to repetition, he decided to create a band with a focus on variety, resulting in the instrumental band Semantic Saturation.” Paradigms and envelopes.
The Vicious Head Society – Abject Tomorrow Review
“Gun to my head, I’d have to say that no metal sub-genre tickles my fancy as much as progressive metal. It’s hardly a fully independent genre, though, because how often do you call a band straight-up progressive metal? Well, sometimes, but usually it’s progressive death metal, or progressive power metal, or any of the other combinations. This is because while other sub-genres are more about a certain sound or atmosphere, progressive is almost exclusively about the structure of the songs, freeing the band from their verse-chorus shackles. This allows for longer songs with more room to explore, and the pull of a narrative structure leads to concept albums more than any other genre.” Is this a dream in a theater?
Things You Might Have Missed 2011: Loch Vostok – Dystopium
Loch Vostok (ViciSolum Productions) is a Swedish progressive metal band from Uppsala, Sweden. This was enough for me to take a look at it [Tjena grannar!] because, well, there aren’t a ton of metal bands from Uppsala, really. Not that they don’t exist or anything, but they’re just few and far between and most of them aren’t playing progressive metal. Apparently these guys, who I’ve never heard before mind you, formed in 2001 and Dystopium is their fourth record. And yeah, for fans of progressive metal, Swedish death metal and more modern sounding metal might really dig this disc.
