Mavara

In recent years, the helm of progressive music has been taken by the metal musicians. From the likes of Dream Theater to the djent movement of bands like Animals as Leaders, Periphery and of course Meshuggah, prog has been getting relentlessly heavier. However, in its infancy, prog had a grandeur that didn't just come from screaming vocals and bowels of hell guitars. Vocals had a strong melodic component, a minstrel-like quality and the music didn't grind so much as danced, unbound from the cage of standard time.

Consciousness, the latest release from Iranian founded prog rock outfit Mavara brings the classic prog rock calling cards back to fuse with their heavier side to give a modern fusion of the genres various roots. Mavara definitely have their heavy side with ground shaking breakdowns and soaring guitar passages. The influence of bands like Porcupine Tree and most notably Opeth's more melodic, growl-free work is very apparent. However, hints of older sounds from progenitors like Yes and Jethro Tull give the album a depth, bringing a certain levity that the cavalcade of prog metal groups out there avoid. Consciousness is a sprawling effort tackling subjects from ancient invasions to current world problems and even the concept of space and time (as any prog album worth its salt should).

The 11 minute and 39-second opener 'Invasion (636 Gregorian Calendar)' gives the piece an inauguration with a Shakespearean monologue setting the listener in their infinitesimal place in the indifferent cosmos. Synths bubble and churn, fantastical beasts bellow, ancient pagan acoustic guitar creates a ritualistic mood. With the slice of a throat, the band comes stampeding in. Organ, guitar, and bass all move as one, fluttering up and down the keyboard/fretboards in unison. At the five minute mark when singer Ashkan Hamedi makes his entrance, his voice cries out of a begone tragedy with the urgency and immediacy of someone who was there. Tears of loss fill the bare acoustic guitar bridge that opens up into a gorgeous synth lead that pairs deep sorrow with beauty like a David Gilmour solo does. The contemplative half time sections draw obvious comparisons to Pink Floyd, specifically the elongated tracks from their masterpiece Animals. The band engages in one last prog-off to hammer it home.

The epic (and I don't use that word frivolously) opener is a microcosm of the rest of the album. The successive movements flow from spastic perplexing runs to mountaintop half time sections to futuristic synth solos. Another highlight of the album is 'Time Makers', a piece that deconstructs the concept of time both lyrically and sonically. A masterful coalescence of what great prog music should be; echoing the depth of the subject matter with the density and breadth of the music. Consciousness is an audacious, majestic and moving piece that brings together prog's disparate fringes to tell a grand tale about being mortal and immortal and how we are somehow both.