A Liquid Landscape "Rogue Planet" ALBUM REVIEW

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog dog Media                       Album release 2026. 

This album has been keeping me company lately. It is a melodic, deeply atmospheric record that, as its final track fades, seems to demand that you start it over from the beginning.

This album feels like a blend of post-grunge and the graceful, Pink Floyd-inspired side of progressive rock. It is unmistakably guitar-centric, which I love, and the distortion tones in particular are consistently tasteful, with a rich, velvety character. All the instrumentation - particularly the energetic drum work as well—are excellently recorded and sound great. 

The vocals are not an afterthought, but A Liquid Landscape feel to me like an instrumental, post-rock-leaning band with a singer baked into the overall sound. Rather than the music serving as a backdrop for the vocals, the voice remains down in the orchestra pit with the rest of the musicians—an integral part of the arrangement rather than the dominant focal point. The singer’s voice is highly produced and stylized—breathy and youthful in tone, with an overall soft and warm character.

The lyrics—and this is only my interpretation—seem open-eyed and questioning, grappling with much of what is happening in the world. There is a measure of cynicism, but it is balanced by a clear sense of hope: “There’s a spark inside,”  and “Tiny footsteps lead the way, I’m sure.” 

“I dreamt a dream bigger than me” feels like a line anyone in a band like this might relate to. Isn’t that part of why albums get made in the first place? “We need a brave, resilient future we are proud to call our own.”

I noticed something interesting in the album’s song arrangement. “Few and Far Between” and “Raven Song” are each split into two parts—so in a sense, it feels like four tracks that are interwoven, evolving as part of a larger structure rather than standing as strictly separate pieces.

I find myself curious about how this came to be: what actually ties the parts together? Are they variations on the same musical idea, lyrically linked, or connected in a more abstract, conceptual way?

What I appreciate is that repeated listens don’t immediately settle the question. There’s a deliberate ambiguity that holds up over time instead of resolving too quickly. I did eventually notice, for example, that “Raven Song” revisits a musical motif in a transformed way, which makes the connection feel intentional without being over-explained.

This is a powerful 4½ out of 5. While occasionally haunting, the album is cavernously deep and often serenely gorgeous.

...that's the same as 9 out of 10 for the math challenged, :-) 

-----------

P.S. For anyone wondering, when it comes to reviewing and scoring albums, I tend to gravitate toward records I either enjoy a lot or find engaging in a constructive way from the outset. It doesn’t feel particularly worthwhile to spend time dissecting albums that I already sense will land poorly for me. I tend to reserve that kind of deeper critical scrutiny for releases from major artists where higher expectations are part of the context, and where disappointment feels more revealing than simply writing something off.