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 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 few 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. Is it even Tears for Fears without him? And 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, even if it couldn't match 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 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 this context it’s also one of the harder tracks 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 difficult to defend. It feels awkward in context, 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 worn trope. How much huge snare drum does one sitting actually need? At some point, you want to come back down from the clouds—something more grounded, more human. The grandeur is impressive, but too much of it becomes exhausting.

“Gas Giants” follows, dropping the energy again, but it feels like an uncomfortable elevator ride you simply endure between floors. I get it—Roland and company enjoy their artful detours and nods back toward the new wave era—but here it feels misplaced. This might have worked better as a B-side or bonus track rather than sitting in the album’s main sequence.

So “Power” arrives, and not a moment too soon—offering a welcome sense of earthiness and space to breathe. 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 little too much grandiosity where a lighter touch might have served it better. A few more relaxed, less self-conscious tracks could have made the whole experience feel more balanced.


3.5 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.

Joe Deninzon and Stratospheerius "Imposter" ALBUM REVIEW [American Prog Rock]

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog Dog Media                          Album released late 2024

This is a lively, packed album. Joe Deninzon & Stratospheerius know how to go full-on epic while still sounding like they’re having a great time doing it.

Musically, Imposter! has this effect of energizing the listener with positivity and triumphant vibes. One of the things that gives it such a unique imprint is the huge amount of electric violin woven throughout by the very accomplished Joe Deninzon. He even uses a 7-string Viper violin at times. More than once, it becomes genuinely hard to tell whether you’re hearing an electric guitar solo or Joe absolutely shredding on violin.

The album kicks off with a short instrumental that basically grabs any prog fan by the throat. It’s quickly followed by a song built around a super deep and catchy hook with layered harmonies all over it. The bass work there really brought me back to late-70s Chris Squire and the Tormato era of Yes. And worth mentioning: the bassist has incredible screen presence in the videos. The guy could probably pull off a side career as an actor.

The musicianship is stellar across the board. As a lover of time-signature exploitation — perhaps I really am a “time-signaturarian” — I felt pleasantly foiled and befuddled by parts of Imposter!. A major thread tying the album together is the drumming of Jason Gianni. His playing stands out immediately, whether it’s on the bold cover of Frame by Frame by King Crimson or the insane instrumental workout Voodoo Vortex Part 1, where the whole band basically gets unleashed. There’s even some excellent Kansas-esque organ soloing scattered through this very diverse album too.

The guest list is too long to fully cover, but probably the most notable appearance is Michael Sadler from Saga, who delivers a spine-tingling vocal performance on Storm Surge, a passionate slow-burner featuring cello and acoustic guitar textures as well.

The band’s super ballsy take on Frame by Frame is honestly astounding and acts as the cherry on top of the whole album. Pulling off a King Crimson cover at that level is no small thing, and it becomes one of the album’s most memorable moments. Joe’s vocals really shine there too, especially with Val Vigoda adding background vocals.

Lyrically, some of the material touches on hypocrisy, culture-war “woke” tensions, and experiences with fundamentalist religious people confidently informing you that you’re headed straight to hell. Most people have run into some version of that somewhere along the line.

Tripping the Merry-Go-Round deserves a mention too — nice unplugged opening, energetic string quartet feel, and some seriously strong vocal harmonies.

What really works here is that the songwriting never gets overshadowed by the technical skill. With albums like this, that can sometimes happen, but not too much here. The songs themselves hold up.

Overall, Imposter! feels like a patchwork prog quilt — maybe not ultra cohesive, but absolutely loaded with creativity, energy, and fun. Hats off as well to 7D Media for their part as the band’s label.

This one deserves at least a solid 4 out of 5 Prog Dog bones.

Crown Lands "Apocalypse" ALBUM REVIEW [Canadian Prog Rock]

by Dean Wolfe, prog dog media                     released May 2026

My one-word review of this album: satisfying. 

It works. My first listen was hard-hitting, and by the end of it I was glowing.

Intellectually speaking, I’ve had a hard time figuring out Crown Lands. Are they copying Rush? In places, a little bit, yes. I don’t think they’re trying to hide it, either. Are they trying to replace Rush? That’s harder to answer — but there has undeniably been a void since Rush retired in 2015.

Will Crown Lands become the next generation's Rush? I’m tempted to say yes.

What makes that possibility interesting is that they don’t merely imitate Rush stylistically; they seem to be carrying forward the spirit of what Rush represented. Rush stood for making the music they wanted to make regardless of trends, critics, or expectations. Crown Lands feel cut from that same cloth.

With all the mainstream admiration Rush have received over the last decade — especially during the documentary and retrospective era — you’d think they had always been media darlings. They weren’t. I remember that period well: being a Rush fan was not considered cool. In many circles, Rush were practically the definition of uncool. Critics often dismissed them as overly technical, self-serious, or hopelessly nerdy, even while their audience remained intensely loyal.

That’s part of why Crown Lands are so fascinating to me. Their influences are obvious: the progressive structures, the scale and ambition. But it doesn’t feel cynical or calculated. It feels sincere. Less like imitation, and more like continuation.

And maybe that’s the real legacy of Rush in the first place — not just complicated arrangements or virtuoso musicianship, but the stubborn commitment to making exactly the kind of music they loved, whether anyone thought it was fashionable or not.

Yet their musical DNA still seems deeply meshed with Rush. According to Kevin Comeau himself, Rush are the reason he pursued music in the first place — and you can hear that influence in the sheer ambition of what he attempts as one half of this duo: guitar, bass pedals, keyboards, foot-controlled parts, and whatever else he can physically manage at one time.

As far as I know, none of the members of Rush secretly fathered these young Canadian guys. Then again, we all know there were never any women at Rush concerts anyway. (I’m kidding, of course. There were at least three per show.)

Still, reducing Crown Lands to “Rush 2.0” doesn’t really hold up once you spend time with the music. Even if the ghost of Rush occasionally hangs over certain moments, there are plenty of other influences woven into the sound — from Pink Floyd to Led Zeppelin, along with flashes of 1980s rock and pop textures.

Their new album, Apocalypse, despite its dramatic title, is actually an energetic and surprisingly fun listen. There is a tremendous amount of power coming from these musicians. Not that they do it entirely alone — tracks like “The Revenant” benefit from added instrumentation such as cello, and live performances have sometimes included additional musicians to help recreate the more demanding arrangements.

I can't not mention vocalist Cody Bowles. Singing drummers are actually not that rare: Phil Collins, being a great example, or Karen Carpenter, Dave Grohl, Peter Criss (Kiss) to mention but a few. Cody's voice channels Robert Plant and even Geddy Lee, but once you've heard him sing a few times you spot him a mile away. 

I appreciate the narrative and lyrical concepts as well. On Apocalypse, Crown Lands are basically doing that prog thing where it’s not a strict story you follow word-for-word, but more like a shared theme running through it all. It feels like a sci-fi-flavoured idea of a world going through collapse and change, with power structures breaking down and something new trying to form in their place. You don’t really need to “decode” lyrics to get it — it’s more about the mood, the scale, and how the songs link together like chapters in the same bigger idea. 

Apocalypse is an ambitious and cohesive album that succeeds on many levels and well-deserves 4 1/2 out of 5 prog dog bones. Time will have to prove it, but this album will probably be remembered as part of the long-term story of progressive rock.

Fave short track: The Fall. 

Poly-Math "Something Deeply Hidden" ALBUM REVIEW

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog Dog Media.             Album Released 2026

Math was my weakest subject in high school, which may explain why I tended to shy away from so-called math-rock bands. Despite what their name suggests, however, Poly-Math never set out to fit neatly into that genre. As bassist Jon Branton told me, the band’s real passion lies in progressive rock, particularly albums from the 70s like Red by King Crimson, which he holds in especially high regard.

There is no keeping Poly-Math bottled up. For all their precision as a tightly locked, pattern-driven instrumental band, there is a persistent sense of unpredictability in their music—an almost chaotic energy simmering just beneath the surface. It subsides briefly on No Such Thing As Now, but halfway through the band surges back to life, sounding as if they have resumed overturning random pieces of furniture. 

Poly-Math do not think small; their music is at times almost blatant in its intent-- expansive and ambitious. For fans of Yes, there are parallels in spirit to the intensity of “The Gates of Delirium” or the opening movement of “Close to the Edge,” particularly in their blend of complexity and surging aggression. The Mars Volta similarly channel those passages and are a cited as an inspiration among the band. 

For me personally, Something Deeply Hidden feels like a different kind of animal. It didn’t immediately fall into place, but on my second listen it all clicked. Rather than leaning heavily on melody, the key to the band’s sound is the way it builds around a strong rhythmic foundation, with the bass and drums driving the momentum forward and giving the music its force and direction. Credit that to bassist and drummer Jon Branton and Chris Woollison. 

The other half of Poly-Math act like the shifting colour palette: Tim Walters on guitar and Josh Gesner on keyboards and synthesizers. Rather than dominating with flash or excess, they shape the music’s atmosphere, filling it out with bold, carefully contoured gestures. The band feels like one living, breathing organism or entity- an exotic creature. Percussion such as congas and bongos is almost invisibly present throughout the album, subtly stitching everything together.

The musicianship throughout Poly-Math is consistently strong. The bass work on Spectral DiOrder stands out in particular—thick, aggressive timbres that really punch through the mix. It brings to mind the gullet-smashing bass tones of Geddy Lee, with that same overdriven, physical presence that feels less like support and more like propulsion. 

A few more sonic observational snapshots: Euthyphro Dilemma opens out into eerie, cinematic passages as it breaks down and gradually deconstructs itself. In Chronstesia reminds me of my all time fave and iconic jazz fusion album, Bruford, One of A Kind. There's more of the cool jazz vibes on OneTwoThreeFour Body Problem. 

I’d give this excellent album a solid 4 out of 5 dog bones. It may well be strong enough to deserve higher, but I’m not an expert in more “mathy” prog rock, and I found it a bit more jagged than I’d usually gravitate toward in music. But as any geologist will tell you, there is beauty in jaggedness. I hope Poly-Math continue to flourish and crystallize. 

Ora Cogan "Hard Hearted Woman" ALBUM REVIEW [Etherial-Folk, Country-Tinged, Dream Pop]

 

by Dean Wolfe, Prog dog Media                Album released 2026

Ora Cogan feels like a creative spirit only partially committed to fully materializing in this world. I can’t think of many other artists who sound so consistently ethereal that you briefly wonder whether she might be an apparition rather than a performer.

And yet she is here—fully present, but almost like a mirror—catching light and colour from a place just beyond reach, somewhere slightly outside our usual frame of reference. I find that some of the photographs of Cogan capture this beautifully, playing with reflections and the ghostly quality of the Daguerreotype.

I’m especially drawn to the country music influence in some of her songs, a genre whose finest moments are built on honesty, plainspoken emotion, and unvarnished truth. I could even compare her, in a small way, to Neil Young—an artist driven by an everything-be-damned commitment to authenticity. 

Practically speaking, her music is sometimes softly and simply performed, yet enveloped in something intangible and hard to define. How she achieves that effect is not entirely clear to me. At the heart of it is her voice—lovely and airy, vulnerable, and genuine. The very idea of applying pitch correction in this context feels almost absurd; any heavy-handed processing would seem to work against what makes it compelling in the first place.

She does, however, use effects in a more performative way in live settings. I saw a performance on YouTube where she used two microphones: one for a direct vocal signal, and another she could lean into for a more dreamlike layer of echo and reverb.

At the heart of it, Cogan is a singer-songwriter, but on this album she draws on a wide palette of instrumental textures, with contributions from a range of musicians—including pedal steel. She also continues to feature her own electric guitar work, played in a light, fingerstyle approach.

Listening to her new album I wonder: 'why go to an art gallery, or set out on a slow Sunday road trip, when you can be quietly transported and held by her world—by Hard Hearted Woman and the company it keeps?

I may seem hard-hearted, but I’m not going to assign this album a score. I think you already know why. Would you rate a beautiful flower you discovered growing just outside your back door?

https://oracogan.bandcamp.com/album/hard-hearted-woman

(see my reviews of other Cogan albums) 

Dennis Atlas "Principle" ALBUM REVIEW [80s Prog-inspired Hard Rock/ Arena Rock]

by Dean Wolfe, Prog Dog Media            (released May 2026).

This album would earn a perfect score from me if every track matched the closing song, “We Can Be the Future.” It overflows with optimism and a kind of hyperactive, almost nuclear-squirrel energy that captures what Dennis Atlas seems to be all about.

That track makes me want to grow my frickin’ hair long, crank the CD in the car stereo, and blast it while cruising down the nearest main drag with the roof down—ideally with a couple of my bros perched in the back.

This is what I’d call kick-ass, ’80s prog-inspired, big-hair rock. I’d place it in the same general spirit as Journey and Styx: energetic, melodic American rock with a progressive edge.

And it’s simply fun. This is the kind of music I’d put on at a party where plenty of beer—or root beer—was being served.

Given Dennis Atlas’s relative youth (still in his 20s), he stands out as someone who can convincingly channel the prog and rock traditions of a bygone era—one marked by unapologetic optimism and fist-pumping energy. He can wail vocally just as effortlessly as he can fly across the keyboard, making him a truly impressive and versatile musician.

Of course, Dennis Atlas didn’t create this album entirely on his own. He had some remarkable support on Principle. As the newest keyboardist and member of Toto, he has earned the respect of some legendary musicians, several of whom contributed to the album, including Steve Lukather and Bumblefoot (known for his work with Asia and Guns N' Roses).

“Violent Power” was the first track I heard before reviewing the album, and it immediately convinced me that this was an artist worth paying attention to. It’s an adrenaline-charged opener that gets me completely fired up—before long, my fists are pumping in the air.

I wish there were a bit more jazz-inspired passages like the ones in “Save It for Tomorrow.” If Dennis Atlas leaned further into that side of his musical personality, I’d be very happy. The song is packed with shifting time signatures and unexpected twists and turns, along with a tasteful saxophone solo that adds another layer of sophistication. And throughout it all, you can hear some wonderful inspiration from the adventurous spirit of 1970s progressive rock.

Then there’s Dennis Atlas’s cheeky sense of musical playfulness, which comes through strongly on the instrumental “Candy on Mars.” The track is driven by some seriously funky bass lines and the kind of whimsical keyboard flourishes that could become one of his trademarks. It’s impossible for me to hear those lighthearted touches without smiling.

I love the positivity Atlas displays. I believe this is the quality that is going to serve him well into the future. Those moments on the album that he just lets go and rips are great. Always nice to have an uplifting party album to reach for in the collection. 

If you’re a party-pooper, this album may not be for you. Dennis Atlas is filling a much-needed niche, delivering unapologetically fun, high-energy progressive rock with genuine heart.

I’m giving "Principle" 4 out of 5 Dog Bones.

What a strong year 2026 is proving to be for progressive rock.

My initial favourite tracks are “We Can Be the Future,” “Candy on Mars,” and “Violent Power.”

The only track that feels a little musically awkward to me at times is “When the Monster Attacks,” though the bass and drum work are excellent, and the lyrics are particularly interesting.

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.

Emily Rach Beisel "Sumptuous Branching" ALBUM REVIEW [Cinematic, Drone, Avant, Experimental, Ambient]

by Dean Wolfe (Prog dog Media)       Album released April 10, 2026.

I didn't know what to expect, but I ended up really loving this album. Like...damn. 

Sumptuous Branching is an invigorating, challenging listen—decidedly not background music and not for the faint of heart. It demands attention, rewarding even as it unsettles, like a disturbance that stirs a riverbed and leaves the water cleaner.

Soloist Emily Rach Beisel is a Chicago-based improviser, composer, educator, curator, and woodwind specialist. They performs all music on this album, with bass clarinet, vocals, piccolo, and electronics. Listening to their work can feel like an alien abduction: everything familiar falls away, replaced by a world you didn’t know existed. They have said they were inspired by late medieval chant, drawn to its wild freedom and rich density. Whatever the artist’s statement might suggest, my first instinct is to set that aside and respond directly to what I’m hearing.

As a fan of first-contact movies like Arrival, I can’t help but think much of the album would be perfectly suited as a film score covering that same strange territory. “To Rise in Arms,” a standout track, captures this tension perfectly—at once jarringly beautiful, but also eerie and otherworldly.

'Her Still Singing Limbs' evokes strong imagery in my mind, reminding me of the classic early 70's TV show Kung Fu about a peaceful Shaolin monk who travels the desert expanse of the American Old West, using martial arts and wisdom to avoid violence while helping others and searching for his lost half-brother. 

Fragments of the familiar do surface on this album, especially on the title track, thoughtfully chosen to close the album with, offering a kind of quiet reassurance. A simple, lonesome clarinet begins with a single breath, before three or four voices gradually join in, answering it in kind—loneliness still present, but shared, and in that sharing, softened. It restores a distinctly warm human touch within a broader soundscape of electronically scrambled and manipulated textures.

[The album was recorded at Marmalade in Chicago by Bill Harris, mixed by Harris and Beisel, mastered by Edward Hamel. This is their second album released through Chicago’s avant/exploratory label Amalgam. She is wrapping up a mid-west tour right now.] 

https://www.emilybeisel.com

https://emilyrachbeisel.bandcamp.com

https://www.instagram.com/beisel_m_

https://www.amalgamusic.org

https://www.instagram.com/amalgam_chicago

https://www.facebook.com/amalgamusic


FOR FANS OF:
Sunn O))), Om, Zu, Faust, Amon Düül, Colin Stetson, Nala Sinephro, John Zorn, Oren Ambarchi

GENRES:
Drone, Avant Jazz, Experimental, Ambient

Angine De Poitrine "Vol.II" ALBUM REVIEW [microtonal looper math rock/prog(?)]

by Dean Wolfe, prog dog media.   Album released 2026. 

If you’ve been living under a rock lately, prepare yourself. Vol. II by ADP is a brain-stunner of an album that hits you like that soccer ball you never saw coming.

Angine De Poitrine, it seems, are the “chosen ones” to bring lively, fun, quirky, challenging, and audacious instrumental rock to a nutrition-deprived audience. It’s all delivered with snappy drums, a double-neck instrument combining bass and six-string guitar (with twice the usual number of frets), and a complex looper rig demanding speedy, barefooted coordination and precision.

The mania is spreading ever wider since the duo’s live KEXP performance on YouTube (13 million views as of this writing). This burst of popularity suggests a genuine thirst among listeners for something different—if not outright unhinged—compared to the usual mainstream churn of predictable or overly processed schlock,  not to mention an endless stream of replayed classic hits of yesteryear, and yester-century.

Has the dam broken? Is Angine De Poitrine the long-overdue wrench in the machine that prophets have foreseen and forewarned us about? Is a massive world-wide musical reboot about to be triggered? 

I knew this would be a hard album to review, because Vol. II by Angine De Poitrine isn’t just a unique record. This papier-mâché-clad Québécois duo is fast becoming a heavily scrutinized, impossible-to-ignore cultural phenomenon.

Many longtime prog fans count themselves among Angine De Poitrine’s new devotees, hyping the pyramid hand signals in YouTube comments—and probably in real life too. Some even claim the duo as “one of their own.” But is it really progressive rock?

Rather than belabour genre labels, it’s probably easier to accept a few things. Plenty of prog fans love this band, and math rock, while it came later, digs into the same kind of rhythmic complexity. And yet it’s still its own thing—related to prog, but not quite the same. Clear as mud.

What does the duo say about their own music? I discovered a very recent interview on Youtube entirely in French. In their own words (translated and with a bit of paraphrasing): 

"[Angine De Poitrine] is first of all a duo... rock with a bit of an electro flavour, meaning the music is constructed and built on loops. There's a certain repetitiveness but always with an intentional build-up to bring in the next phase or a more developed riff etc.

"The tunes keeps moving forward, and don't stagnate.... but they have a kind of repetitiveness that reminds you of techno... In terms of timbre it's anchored in a very instrumental rock tradition- a bit left field overall. Super danceable."

They say that got into microtonality simply through curiosity and were...

"interested in ever increasing complexity ...the notion of a challenge is always attractive. ...it started with a fascination with eastern music...but we didn't want to copy it - we used it in a way that was more our own...our own flavour...made sure it wasn't just a pastiche of what's done in the East. We make it very 'Seguanay-an'...(they are from Seguanay Quebec)"

So, they are making use of microtonality in a way they were comfortable with and in a way they enjoy--attracted by the closeness of the notes, the friction, the timbre, and the novelty as well. 

Listening to Vol. II, I feel reassured they’re here to stay. This doesn’t strike me as a flash in the pan. They did refer to ADP as a “project” in an interview, which suggests they’ll stick with it only as long as it continues to challenge and intrigue them—but on this album, their artistic integrity feels intact. The music is genuinely strong, and it sticks—more like cast iron than Teflon. And how can you not love “UTZP,” with its munchkin-scaled, Led Zeppelin-ish flair?

The album feels a tad on the short side, but there’s that old saying: “leave ’em wanting more.” There’s good variety across the tracks, even veering a bit country on the opener to side two, keeping things consistently interesting as one piece flows into the next.

There’s a deliberate otherworldliness to the album, mainly in the occasional vibey vocals—like Sesame Street aliens singing from another planet—and in lead guitar lines soaked in wild, unpredictable effects.

The bass tones really rock out, reminding me of Chris Squire on The Yes Album, with aggressive pick use and plenty of lines up high on the fretboard. This album is fun and fresh. ADP pull the tablecloth out from under the listener’s dinner plates before they even realize what’s happened. There are generous splatterings of funk, punk, disco, rock, and jazz fusion, plus an armada of catchy riffs—cleverly making use of, quite literally, the notes between the notes.

The drumming is also highly satisfying. Klek is, quite literally and figuratively, half of the band’s sound—and together with Khn, they are far more than the sum of their parts. Hearing them play together, it’s not surprising to learn they’ve been jamming since they were young teenagers.

I give this ingenious and highly listenable album 5 out of 5 prog dog bones. Do yourself a favour—pull up a chair and let these Quebecois masters of microtonal riffs pepper your brain with polka dots. You won't know what hit you. Guaranteed fun for the whole family. 

Clive Nolan "The Mortal Light" ALBUM REVIEW [prog-adjacent theatrical rock]

by Dean Wolfe, Prog dog Media. Album released February 2026. 

This is a fun listen—even though outside my usual range. Rock musicals and stage productions aren’t in my regular rotation, so it’s fair to wonder why I’m even reviewing this. The short answer: I don’t mind stepping outside my comfort zone. And with a project from British progrock mainstay Clive Nolan (Pendragon, Arena, Shadowland, Strangers on a Train, and Caamora), it felt like a safe enough bet that it wouldn’t be time wasted. "The Mortal Light’ is the third musical in the ‘Alchemy’ series. It chronicles the ongoing journey of Professor King and friends as they navigate the dangers and challenges of a colourful Steampunk Victorian ‘Universe’.

I approach this album the same way I would a good book—something to take in from cover to cover. It’s a time investment, and that’s the point. This is also the kind of release that demands a physical copy—the package is an attractive box set of 4 CDs and 3 booklets, with a full story to follow in graphics and text. I’d splurge if I had the cash, but for now I’ll be relying on the PDFs that came with the digital promo.

The vocals are strong and spirited throughout from an extensive cast of characters. It must have taken a lot of time just to organize all the singing sessions. They mostly avoid that traditional operatic style—which I appreciate—and at times in the style of Nightwish music. Compositionally, it’s solid, as is the production but not every second is crafted with the precision of The Dark Side of the Moon, probably because it spans over two 70 minute CDs. Tracks like Prophesy, and especially the verse in Decisions for example, deliver some genuinely moving and powerful melodies. Fade is powerfully cinematic. There’s also a lot of character acting and dialogue woven throughout. So this is definitely an album that has to be experienced in sequence—Act 1 through Act 2.

One of my favourite elements is the incidental percussion—bodhráns and other hand-driven rhythms that Clive Nolan uses so effectively. There’s a real sense of variety, and it adds a lot of character. At times, it genuinely feels like he’s tapped into some Viking-warrior drum circle—and it hits in a way that feels almost primal, like it’s waking up something buried deep.

Prog Dog score: 4 prog dog bones out of 5. If rock musicals are your thing, you’ll likely enjoy this distinctly British, sumptuous extravaganza, featuring impressive vocal performances and plenty of drama.