@new_dawn_of_prog

Gösta Berlings Saga - Glue Works, 2011, 🇸🇪 First I will say that this is a collection of instrumental landscapes, the band glued the various parts together and carefully mixed sounds, ideas and musical references in such a way that they form a compact and pleasant whole. The Gösta Berlings Saga love to linger on musical themes, gradually expand them, wrap them in loops and build them little by little. In addition to the instruments of the basic quartet, formed by Gabriel Hermansson on bass, Einar Baldursson on guitar, Alexander Skepp on drums and David Lundberg with his keyboards (Fender Rhodes, Mellotron and various other synthesizers), there are many others played by a well-assorted group of guests: Fredrik Carlzon on French horn and trumpet, Cecilia Linné on cello, Leo Svensson on musical saw and Ulf Åkerstedt on tuba, trumpet (bass and double bass) and harmonica. This instrumental enrichment leads to a much more varied sound panel than in the past, with a clearly superior choice of timbres which translates into a decidedly more intriguing and effective sound. “Glue Works" draw an immense attraction from the combination of these components: scratchy to brutal guitars between twang and weirdness, again and again crooked beat action from the drums, a lot of pressure from the sometimes grumbling, sometimes buzzing bass, subtle sounds from the e-piano and just eerie moods as well as variety through keyboards and guest musician. In addition, of course, always polyphony, polyrhythmics and generally very, very, very much tension and dynamics. The two long tracks "Island" and "Sorterargatan 1" form the core of the album. These impressive compositions are dominated by dark chamber prog with a rowdy, rumbling bass, partly screeching interludes from the electric guitar and "singing saw", driving drumming and nimble runs on the electric piano, Rhodes and a swelling mellotron. The guest musicians emphasize the whole thing. However, "Sorterargatan 1" then goes through an almost curious metamorphosis and offers the restrained-symphonic, lyrical coda from half-time, which ends almost kitschy with jingle-bell-jingle (in the truest sense, so to speak).