As a music buff, it’s a weird thing to dig deeper into a band you never gave much attention to, only to discover that they played such a pivotal role in the history of pop music.
And yet, here I am with the Moody Blues, who are often credited as the founders of progressive rock.
And while the previous two Moody records in my collection are undeniably prescient, The Seventh Sojourn finds them fighting to hold their own against a flood of contemporaries.
The hardest part of creating a groundbreaking masterpiece is what you do once it’s changed everything.
The Moody Blues were nobody special before the release of Days Of Future Passed. Then they released an album that transcended pop music and practically invented a whole new musical language (see: prog rock).
And then they continued their career? It’s one thing to carry on after a career-defining record several albums into your catalog. It’s quite another to practically start there. But listening to On The Threshold Of A Dream, their second post-Days offering, it feels like they weren’t too daunted by the task.
Across the history of pop music, there are certain years that feel more momentous than others. Moments in time where the social conversation, artistic trends, and brightest minds converge to create a hotspot of musical innovation that stands out among the arbitrary dividers of time.
One of those years is 1967, a year of psychedelic mastery that continues to unfold new masterpieces to me.
After emo godfathers Sunny Day Real Estate disbanded (again), three of the four original members started a new band called The Fire Theft.
They said often and loudly that they were a completely different project, inspired more by rock bands like Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd than the punk bands that inspired SDRE.
But listening to the record, it’s pretty clear that the distinction is almost purely nominal—especially considering that this vinyl reissue uses the exact same typeface as Diary and The Rising Tide (and the same producer as Diary and LP2).
One of the most common characteristics among post rock bands is the complete denial that they are a post rock band. Explosions in the Sky insists that they are “cinematic rock.” This Will Destroy You defiantly calls themselves “doomgaze.” Mogwai calls the term “lazy” and says they’re just experimental rock.
And Mono, from Japan, themselves sneer at the label, insisting that they are a neo-classical group.
But as pretentious as that might sound, Hymn to the Immortal Wind leaves no room for doubt. Continue reading
Twenty years is an awful long time for any band to stay together. It’s even longer for a band how has been criticized for remaking the same record over and over again.
But twenty years after releasing their stunning Young Team, Mogwai released their most essential record in over a decade.
Across their storied career, Mogwai have been no strangers to experimentation. Their sonic palette has stretched from cinematic post rock to Krautrock to heavy metal to indie rock.
But rarely do their experimentations last an entire record. But on 2014’s Rave Tapes, the Scottish post rock demigods decided to set aside their trademark bombast and spend an album practicing restraint.
Mogwai’s discography is a bit difficult to sort out. With an enormous catalog and the mythos to match, it can be difficult to get a handle on which records stand out from among the rest of their output.
But I’ve noticed two matters of consensus among the Mogwai fanbase. First, that Young Team is their best album. Second, that Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will is absolutely fantastic.
As far as prolificity is concerned, few groups can top Mogwai. Their discography is a veritable black hole, including nine full length albums, six soundtracks, and a number of EPs and remixes.
Among that wealth of output, it’s widely considered that 2008’s Hawk is Howling is not exactly the best place to start. And yet, that’s exactly where I did.
“If someone said that Mogwai were the stars, I would not object. If the stars had a sound, it would sound like this.”
So states the voiceover that opens Young Team, the debut record from post rock legends Mogwai. It would smack of pretention—if they didn’t spend the next sixty-four minutes backing it up.