Angine de Poitrine "Vol. 1" ALBUM REVIEW [microtonal alternative instrumental/math rock]

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog Dog Media              album released 2024

My first review was of Vol. 2, so I'm coming to this album in the backwards order. I wasn't part of the original wave of fans of this cultural phenomenon. Then, like so many others, I stumbled across what will surely go down as the legendary KEXP YouTube performance—a video that future music historians may well point to as a genuine cultural milestone.

The band's rise seemed almost instantaneous. One day they were unknown to much of the wider public, and the next they were everywhere. I just mentioned them to my hairdresser and, without missing a beat, she knew exactly who I meant: "the polka-dot guys." That's how quickly they seeped into the culture and collective consciousness.

"Sherpa" is definitely a standout track. It echoes, at least a little, the way Led Zeppelin—and especially Jimmy Page—dipped into Eastern-inspired sounds on songs like Kashmir. The bass has a satisfyingly meaty tone that occasionally reminds me of Chris Squire during the era of The Yes Album. 

The vocals have a charming, almost playful quality to them, providing a nice contrast to the weight of the instrumentation. The final section in Sherpa closes with real strength and serves as a perfect example of how Angine de Poitrine's guitar work can sound both strange and wonderful at the same time. It's an unusual combination, but one that the band consistently pulls off throughout the album.

"Tohogd" is another winner. The background vocals are cute—I'm just calling it like I hear it. They give the track a playful personality and help make it one of the album's many endearing moments.

"Tamebsz" is one of those tracks that took more than a single listen to fully appreciate. Its strengths are less obvious at first because there are more subtle things happening beneath the surface, demanding a bit more attention from the listener. 

Even before it starts to reveal all of itself to you, there's plenty to enjoy. The layering is impressive yet again, while the guitars feature some wonderfully clickety-click picking that gives the track a distinctive texture and momentum. There's also some sophisticated use of microtonal intervals which, to the uninitiated, might initially register as "that sounds out of key." But it isn't out of tune at all. Rather, it feels as though you've briefly stepped sideways into an alternate reality where the familiar rules of melody have been overwritten.

It's all so clever—a bit disorienting at first, but more fascinating with every listen.

"Ababa Hotel" — wow. This track grooves deeply and immediately reveals a side of the band that feels much more rooted in 1970s jazz fusion than much of Vol. 2.

It also contains some of my favourite guitar soloing from Khn on the entire album. If I came to this completely blind, knowing nothing about Angine de Poitrine, I'd probably assume I'd stumbled across some lost fusion record from the mid-'70s that had slipped through the cracks.

Anyone familiar with classic fusion acts such as Weather Report or Return to Forever may have a similar reaction. The rhythmic feel, the interplay between instruments, and the emphasis on groove all recall the era when jazz fusion was exploding outward from jazz, incorporating elements of rock, funk, and increasingly adventurous instrumental virtuosity.

There is, however, one major giveaway that this isn't a lost relic from 1975: the guitar. What a strange and unique sound. If I didn't already know about the band's use of microtonal guitars, I'd be completely perplexed. The guitar lines slither and wiggle through the music like a worm crossing unfamiliar terrain, never quite going where your ears expect them to. They seem to bend around the notes rather than simply strike them, creating a sensation that's equal parts disorienting and fascinating.

The result is music that feels simultaneously vintage and futuristic—deeply indebted to the fusion pioneers, yet impossible to mistake for anyone else once that guitar enters the picture.

"Sahardneah" further demonstrates just how many doors microtonality can open. Before discovering Angine de Poitrine, I largely took the standard tuning systems of Western music for granted. Hearing AdP apply microtonal concepts to rock music has completely changed my perspective on what's possible.

In many ways, this band feels as though it has kicked the door wide open for a new branch of Western music. Rather than treating microtonality as an academic experiment or a novelty, they integrate it naturally into songs that still groove, rock, and remain highly listenable.

This is another deep track whose value increases with repeat listens. The more time you spend with it, the more details reveal themselves. There are also some particularly cool and distinctive vocalizations from Khn and Klek. Their vocal contributions add enormously to these songs, multiplying the uniqueness factor and helping create a sound that is unmistakably their own.

That's one of the remarkable things about this album: even when the band draws from familiar influences, the combination of the microtonal guitar work, unusual vocal approaches, and adventurous songwriting results in music that feels genuinely original.

"L'Aberek" is the first track where I really became consciously aware of the time signature. The 7/8 groove plays a significant role in shaping the song's character, giving it an off-kilter momentum that is both engaging and surprisingly natural.

My biggest complaint? It's far too short. Just as the track settles into its groove, it's over, leaving me wanting several more minutes. That's usually a sign that a song is doing something right.

"L'Aberek" was an instant favourite and remains one of the standout tracks on the album for me. Once again, I find myself drawing comparisons to Chris Squire and his bass tone during the classic Yes years. There's that same muscular presence in the low end that helps drive the music forward.

More than anything, the song feels alive. It breathes and evolves organically, never sounding mechanical or constrained. If I hadn't already known the band relied heavily on looping technology, I'm not sure I would have guessed it. The progression unfolds naturally and fluidly, with none of the limitations commonly associated with loop-based music becoming apparent. Rather than sounding assembled piece by piece, the performance feels spontaneous and fully realized, as though the song is discovering itself as it moves forward.

For a track that's over so quickly, "L'Aberek" leaves a remarkably strong impression.

This is essential listening—an amazing and substantial sleeper of a rock album. If this band doesn't get you moving, I'm not sure what hope there is for you. I didn't expect it; my initial score was 4.5 out of 5, but after only a few repeat listens it was already demanding a full 5-out-of-5 Dog Bones rating.

It's a wonderfully strange, hard-rocking and butt-shaking album. Like Volume 2 (and yes, I reviewed Volumes 1 and 2 in reverse order), it's the perfect record to throw on at a party. There's something irresistible here for just about anyone, making it an easy choice for the turntable whenever you want the room to come alive.

Favourite tracks? Sherpa, and for coolest guitar solo work on display by Khn, see Ababa Hotel. 

Tears for Fears "Elemental" ALBUM REVIEW [90's pop rock/alternative/proggy pop]

 

by Dean Wolfe prog dog media.          Released 1993.

I owned a copy of this album when it arrived back in 1993. Returning to it 33 years later, I'm reminded of how much I loved it—and how, despite that affection, it always left me feeling oddly unsatisfied. Perhaps it's not too late to discover why.

There are some towering songs on this album. There are also a couple awkward, forgettable detours. It's the first Tears for Fears album created without Curt Smith, whose presence often seemed to balance Roland Orzabal's strengths and excesses. Can Alan Griffiths—the guitarist and producer who co-wrote most of the material with Orzabal—fill the void?

Griffiths wasn't a newcomer. Having already toured with the band as a guitarist, he and Orzabal had an established working relationship. By most measures, the partnership worked well on this album, producing a record that enjoyed moderate success, that is, compared to the extraordinary heights reached by Tears for Fears' earlier releases.

The title track, "Elemental," is the musical equivalent of a modern Christopher Nolan film. It has countless moving parts and layers, all masterfully orchestrated into a mini prog-pop masterpiece. Ambitious, intricate, and rewarding, it stands as one of the album's most fully realized achievements.

"Cold" is another epic track—somewhat simpler in construction than "Elemental," but every bit as effective thanks to its memorable, anthemic chorus. The guitar plays a major role, with shimmering cascades running throughout the song and helping to give it much of its atmosphere and momentum.

“Here we go,” shouts Roland as the album launches into its hit, “Break It Down Again.” The track is driven by one of its most glorious drum grooves—a rhythmic anchor that feels meticulously crafted, as if it took countless hours to perfect. The chorus is exciting and immediate and surprisingly simple, which only adds to its impact.

Then “Mr. Pessimist” arrives and disrupts the album’s continuity. There’s a sudden shift that feels almost Peter Gabriel-like in approach. It’s an interesting detour, but in the album's context it’s one of the tracks harder to fully settle into.

Then the inexorably silly “Dog’s a Dog’s Best Friend” appears almost out of nowhere—and perhaps should have stayed there? There are, however, two moments that partially redeem it, one of them stripped down to little more than voice and percussion. The rest is harder to defend and raises the question: what were they thinking?

Aha—“Fish Out of Water” lifts the album’s calibre again, but it also exposes a recurring snag for me. On paper it has all the makings of an album highlight, yet by this point the “epic” approach starts to feel like a tiring trope. How much huge snare drum does one need in one sitting? At some point, you want to come back down from the clouds to something warmer and more grounded. The grandeur is impressive, but too much is exhausting.

“Gas Giants” follows, functioning as an arty palate cleanser between songs, with some minimalist vocals. In fact, it feels like you're diving into the strange environment of an aquarium, half-expecting to encounter a water-breathing Roland Orzabal swimming around in the tank. It's catchy.

So “Power” arrives—offering a welcome sense of earthiness and space for breathing. After the preceding stretches of grandeur and detours, it feels grounded and direct, like the album finally loosens its grip and lets the music stretch out naturally again.

“Brian Wilson Said” shifts into a quieter, more acoustic space, with piano, a light jazz drum feel, and upright bass. It’s an interesting piece that helps even out the album’s dynamics. The final line is especially striking—partly because it’s so naked in comparison, free of the usual reverb and production haze, and therefore much more immediate.

The home stretch brings “Goodnight Song,” a quietly satisfying closer that strips away the album’s lingering grandiosity. It has a grounded, simple feel—exactly the kind of restraint the middle section could have used more of, and it's the song I usually listen to eight times in a row. 

An interesting album overall. Not without its flaws, but largely successful. There’s just a dash too much grandiosity where a lighter touch might have served it better. A couple more relaxed, less self-conscious tracks could have made the whole experience feel more balanced.


4 out of 5 dog bones.

Aziola Cry "Dysphoria Ritual" ALBUM REVIEW [Warr-Guitar Driven Instrumental Prog Metal Trio]

by Dean Wolfe Prog Dog Media        (Album released April 17, 2026)

Instrumental music has travelled a long road since The Ventures helped define surf rock beginning in the '50s.

From the opening moments of this instrumental prog metal/prog rock album by Aziola Cry, a few things become immediately clear. Drums matter here, and they sound amazing. Melody matters too, though not enough to become overly hook-driven. Dissonance plays a key role. The music is in constant motion, propelled by fluid tempos and shifting time signatures. Clean and sweet distorted guitars—and the distinctive 12 string 'tappable' Warr guitar—are given room to breathe, sounding full-bodied, beautiful, sharp, sheeny, and gritty throughout the album. The enduring influence of Tool is impossible to miss, a reminder that their impact on progressive music will be felt for generations. And at least for part of your listening day, you won't miss the human voice at all. Even with tracks averaging eight minutes, this trio has plenty to say without repeating themselves. 

And so, Chicago's AZIOLA CRY unveil their fourth album, Dysphoria Ritual, through 7D Media, the label founded by former King Crimson member Trey Gunn. As is so often the case, I arrive late to the party, so consider this the perspective of a newcomer with no prior knowledge of the band or their music.  

Nevertheless, repeated listens quickly put me in my place, earning my respect as this muscular music pummelled my senses—like stepping into a boxing ring for an unexpectedly energizing round.

The narrative behind Dysphoria Ritual traces a gradual retreat into isolation, where instinctive behavior slowly gives way to confinement and the boundary between happiness and misery begins to blur. It is complemented by artwork from renowned visual artist Travis Smith (King Diamond, Opeth, Riverside), reinforcing the band’s commitment to depth, detail, and artistic cohesion.

It should be pointed out that Aziola Cry are a performing band, not just a studio project, and have appeared at festivals such as ProgDay and ProgStock. Even if just for the 12 stringed Warr guitar—akin to a Chapman Stick—this album is worth checking out. It’s a strange musical creature that should have more protagonists in its corner. It handles the dual role of bass guitar and regular guitar. 

Withdrawn and Alone (Track 5) occasionally leans into a kind of detective or sleuth-like atmosphere, with a subtle undercurrent of humour surfacing in places. Midway through, a built-in drum solo gives Tommy Murray space to break out into fast, kinetic playing that briefly shifts the track’s momentum without forcing a lane change.

The Warr guitar-based compositions continue to stand out as something structurally unusual—less like conventional guitar writing and more like an alien logic applied to harmony and rhythm. At times it feels almost non-human in its construction, like if elephants started composing complex music; it’s closer to an unfamiliar system at times than a traditional fretboard language.

Dysphoria Ritual (Track 6), which closes the album, brings everything into a final, controlled crescendo. A standout slide guitar performance helps push it toward resolution, giving the ending a sense of completion, but also dissolution. It functions as a deliberate closing statement—cleanly tying together the album’s ideas and maintaining focus right to the final moment.

The Album Dysphoria Ritual therefore earns a solid 4.5 out of 5 dog bones for its creative, purposeful, and focused thrust, as well as its exploration of the Warr guitar—an instrument that may only just be getting started.

Dysphoria Ritual is now released on CD and digital platforms through 7D Media. 

Some more info about the band: 

AZIOLA CRY:

Jason Blake – Warr guitar (a 'tappable' dual bass/ regular guitar having 12 strings) 

Mike Milaniak – guitar 

Tommy Murray – drums

Recorded and mixed by Steven Gillis at Transient Sound (Los Lobos, Naked Raygun) with additional recording by Amery Schmeisser at Gravel Road Recording, and mastered by Grammy Award–winning engineer Ted Jensen at Sterling Sound (The Eagles, Lamb Of God, Gojira).

Versa ALBUM REVIEW "A Voyage/ A Destination" (Canadian Indie/Post/Progressive Rock)

by Dean Wolfe, prog dog media

For the sake of convenience, I'm reviewing this as the original double album rather than the expanded 20th Anniversary Edition, which includes all of these songs along with a wealth of bonus material and is arguably the more logical purchase.

Versa are, for me, a revelation—like spotting a rare bird in your own backyard. Your first instinct is to grab a camera or your phone. Quick! Before it flies away. But forget all that. Just stand still and enjoy the moment while it lingers on the fence post. It may be gone in an instant.

That's how fragile this music feels to me—something to be savoured rather than captured.

Fortunately, this rare bird isn't about to fly away and vanish like a dream. If anything, it's likely to become your new best friend.

Versa are built around a core trio, supported by a sprawling cast of guest musicians, all led by Matthew Dolmage—a lawyer by day and a songwriter/lyricist of remarkable talent by night. If only his clients knew.

Among the supporting cast are some prog rock luminaries including vocalist Ross Jennings (Haken), and Nick D'Virgilio (Big Big Train, Spock's Beard) and Dennis Atlas (Toto). 

The human voice—male and female alike—is central to the structure this album is built on, with mini-choirs woven throughout. Around it sit haunting upright piano lines, sweet sweet violin, concert and alto flute, horns, long silky threads of clean electric guitar melodies (with the occasional harder-edged passage), electric bass, touches of rock organ, cello, and, of course, drums. But never all at once. The arrangement is spacious, carefully distributed, and unhurried, unfolding with real patience.

Its post-rock atmospherics and momentum may call to mind Godspeed You! Black Emperor. As for its prog rock leanings, the comparison is less straightforward, though Matthew’s influences are clear. He’s a devoted fan of prog—particularly Jethro Tull—and, notably, a very accomplished flautist.

This group is based locally, just down the street from where I live in Victoria, British Columbia—a place I sometimes refer to as Canada’s San Francisco. The comparison comes from its relatively mild climate, high housing costs, and, above all, its setting on Vancouver Island: dense forest, rugged and winding coastline, and striking natural beauty. No doubt that’s part of what’s “in the water,” quietly shaping and sustaining us creatives here.

What makes this double album so compelling is the evident love behind it. It feels almost like the antithesis of music made for profit—not that there’s anything wrong with that, but you know what I mean. Here, music becomes something more personal: joy and intent crystallized into form. The sincerity of the band and their commitment to the work is never in question.The CD artwork and packaging are also excellent, offering plenty to read and take in—from the full list of contributors to the complete lyrics.

Yes, it seems like all I need to do for this review is sing praises for the masterpiece that this album is. Criticisms? Do I have any? Damn it, not a single one. It's warm and vulnerable with humanity, sprawling with adventurous spirit and a dash of weirdness. Versa have made this album all it is and ever can be. Perfect. Just be warned though: it may not hit you all at once. Like all good albums, repeat listens will humble those who are too-quick-to-judge. 5 out of 5 dog bones. 

Jonas Lindberg "Time Frames" ALBUM REVIEW [Swedish Prog Rock]

by Dean Wolfe, prog dog media                    Released Nov. 2025

One word review: "Triumphant". 

This is a modern and fresh feeling album proving prog is still alive and well, thank you very much. 

Long-form songwriting is central to Time Frames, the latest release from Jonas Lindberg and The Other Side. Several tracks run between eight and seventeen minutes, with only two pieces falling below the eight-minute mark. Each is its own little sonic world, though the album feels cohesive.

I'm new to Jonas Lindberg's music, so take my impressions in that context. This isn't the kind of prog that leans heavily into technical showmanship for its own sake. Instead, it reminds me somewhat of The Alan Parsons Project in its emphasis on memorable melodies, muscular songwriting, and accessible arrangements. A host of excellent male and female vocalists—including Lindberg himself—help bring these songs to life, often with outstanding three part harmonies. The result is music that sounds approachable on the surface while still offering plenty for listeners who appreciate skilled musicianship and the very tasteful, high-quality production.

Some of the music reminds me of 80s prog like Yes in a good way. Jonas has spoken of 90s prog like Spock's Beard and Flower Kings as his main inspirations. Worth mentioning that Jonas records most of the music himself and mixes it as well. The drums were recorded by the drummer Jonathan Lundberg himself. They are well played and sound exceptionally throughout. The flashes of 70s appear through cool instrumental passages featuring synth leads a la Genesis. In fact I love the use of keys and synths throughout- all of the kinds of tones I appreciate. 

My biggest takeaway—and what I find most endearing about the album—is its sheer sense of scale and the positive energy it radiates. There are some genuinely uplifting musical moments here, filled with an almost tangible sense of optimism. In an era when so much progressive music leans toward darker or more introspective territory, Time Frames feels refreshingly open-hearted and life-affirming. Not that the lyrics are all rainbows and prog puppies. They reflect a lot of inner tension and strain that is easy to relate to. 

The fretless bass on a couple tracks including the last track The Wind is notable and demonstrates Jonas great love and mastery for the instrument in its different forms (he performs on upright a lot in some of his working gigs). He also plays some incredible bass runs. 

If you listen to the first minute of the album and the last minute of the album, you'll get a masterclass in how to open and close a record. The introduction feels like passing through a grand musical gateway, drawing you into the world of the album from the very first notes. Then, at the other end, the final minute delivers a sweeping crescendo and triumphant finale that feels almost cinematic. It's the kind of ending where the credits could start rolling as you're left sitting there, trying to pick your jaw up off the floor.

For what it is, Time Frames is an incredibly tidy and accomplished piece of work. It’s sleek, crisp, and melodically soaring throughout, with no real rough edges—likely appealing to listeners who enjoy the polished sound of 80s prog-pop. We score it an impressive 4.5 out of 5 dog bones. 

Lesotho "Through the Dying Light" ALBUM REVIEW (Post-Metal from Boston)

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog dog Media |                Released 2023

I thought post-metal meant something closer to pure heaviness—music designed mainly for impact and volume. But what I found here has a more spiritual, even emotional undercurrent than I expected. That may just be my limited exposure to the genre, but it shifts the experience away from simple aggression into something more reflective.

There’s a kind of gut-pounding weight to it, yet it often stays melodic in a subtle, restrained way. Heavy doesn’t always mean constant intensity here. Instead, the tracks breathe. Themes of truth and reconciliation seem to surface, not in any literal sense, but in the way the music unfolds—patiently, with space and contrast. Often the songs bleed into one another, creating a continuous arc rather than isolated pieces.

It’s largely instrumental, and that works in its favour. The clean sections stand out—quiet, undistorted passages that feel almost suspended in air—contrasted with baritone or heavily detuned guitars that bring the low-end pressure. There’s even some acoustic guitar in places, which adds an unexpected softness.

If Lesotho is representative of a typical post-metal sound, then I understand why people are drawn to this genre. And if it isn’t typical, then it still works as a compelling entry point. When the heavier sections arrive, they really arrive: slamming bass chords that feel almost physical, like Godzillas colliding in slow motion—huge, deliberate, and forceful.

Despite that weight, there’s still a strong sense of dynamics. Spoken female vocals appear at points, adding a human, grounded contrast to the instrumental density. The production makes space for detail: tastefully used echoes and reverb that give everything a distant, haunting quality without becoming muddy or excessive.

The drums are not just support but part of the composition itself. There are quieter, reflective passages where the kit becomes almost conversational, with particularly strong tom work and cymbal tones that are crisp and well captured. Nothing feels overplayed; it serves the structure rather than dominating it.

At times, the low-end notes feel almost elemental—like something you’d experience more than simply listen to. There’s a sense of scale and immersion, similar to standing near a volcano or taking the Maid of the Mist beneath Niagara Falls. It’s overwhelming, but controlled.

The engineering and mixing deserve mention as well: Alex Allinson at The Bridge Sound and Stage in Cambridge, MA has done a very disciplined job. Everything is well balanced and clear even at high volume, which is not always the case in heavier genres. You can really blast it without fatigue, which feels intentional rather than accidental.

Overall, this feels like a strong example of how post-metal (or post-rock-adjacent music) can function when it’s treated with restraint and dynamics rather than sheer density. Even as someone still relatively new to the genre, it’s clear what they’re aiming for—and in this case, it hits the target.

Highly Recommended. 

Yes "Aurora" ALBUM REVIEW (Progressive Rock)

by Dean Wolfe, Prog Dog Media.                 Album released June 2026

Aurora is an album full of musical ideas. Yes is proving itself to be neither tired nor formulaic, and that’s credit where credit is due. So let’s cut to the chase: this album is pretty good.

That said, it does take a bit of patience. It’s definitely a grower, but my appreciation increased quickly with each listen. After about the third spin, I actually wanted to go back and hear it again—not just because I was reviewing it, but because I genuinely wanted to. There’s a freshness to this incarnation of Yes that keeps it engaging and rewarding over repeated listens.

One of the main limitations of the current Yes sound, for me, is the vocalist, Jon Davison. He doesn’t have the same raw rock intensity that defined many of the classic albums. That’s not a criticism of his talent. It’s just a different vocal character.

His voice is clean, almost choral at times. Very precise. Very controlled. But less of that raw edge I associate with older Yes. And I do miss that—but that’s just my perspective.

From the press material:

“As the music developed, it became clear that Yes were not attempting to recreate their past. Their legacy remained a guiding presence, but not a constraint…”

And that really sums it up.

This music should be judged on its own terms. As the work of the current lineup, collaborating and making the most of what each member brings.

Steve Howe, who also produced the album, seems very aware of the voice he’s working with. He shapes the arrangements around it. And a good example of that is the track Emotional Intelligence.

Howe is in excellent form throughout the album. I didn’t count, but there must be around 30+ different guitar tones—electric, acoustic, pedal steel, nylon-string, and his Portuguese guitar as well. You also get those classic ES-175 jazz tones, plus fuzzy leads and sharper, more aggressive moments.

My only real gripe is the occasional nylon-string tone that sounds like it’s plugged straight into the desk. It’s very dry, very airless. I’ve never really warmed to it, and it’s been around since Keys to Ascension.

The compositions here are impressive. Honestly, the idea of a cover band trying to play this material feels almost unrealistic. It’s dense, intricate, and constantly shifting. Even after a few listens, I still felt like I was cutting through a jungle with a machete. I imagine even Rick Beato would need time to sit with it.

If the first two singles didn’t grab you, this probably won’t change your mind. The overall sound is consistent throughout.

One surprise is hearing Steve Howe take lead vocals on part of a track. I actually liked that. His voice has a more masculine edge that contrasts with Davison’s more refined delivery.

There are also orchestral passages sprinkled throughout, which add extra weight. At times it even brings to mind Magnification.

The keyboard work is strong throughout. I really like the acoustic piano moments, and the synth choices sit well in the mix. Sometimes with Yes, and all bands, I question the patch choices—but here it all feels well judged.

The bass is solid, but mostly supportive. Not quite the forward, lead or melodic presence Chris Squire used to bring, but it fits this version of the band.

Aurora has a really catchy chorus, with some hazy, reflective textures running through it—hard to describe, but inspiring. Turnaround Situation is also very catchy. And there are some strong instrumental sections, especially in Countermovement, with Howe on his fuzzy high-sustain pedal steel.

I wrestled between 3½ and 4 out of 5 dog bones, but 4 wins out in the end, and very strongly so, because Yes is still the whole package—the whole deal. If you judge it on its own terms—not what the band used to be—but what it is now, it becomes a really interesting entry in the long evolution of progressive rock.