Prog rock doesn’t always have to disappear into its own complexity. Sometimes it can simply arrive with groove, heaviness and speed. The quartet of singer-guitarist John Mitchell, guitarist Nick Andrew, bassist Darren Redick and drummer Steve Hales (you may know some of them) understands that perfectly. “Three’s A Crowd” opens their self-titled record by putting the rock firmly back into prog rock. It might not be what you were expecting, but that becomes one of the album’s greatest strengths.
“Bad Things Happen” is slower and more swirling, although “bad things happen despite our best intents” is quite the hook. Indeed, that immediacy runs throughout the record. These songs are catchy, the choruses are wonderful and “Heavy Is The Head”, featuring Leoni Jane Kennedy, proves that accessibility needn’t come at the expense of ambition.
“Genie’s Out The Bottle” underlines the quality. This is simply a really, really good record, with its superb synth solo merely another example of the imagination at work. “Non-Stop To The Moon” begins in eerie fashion before being jolted from its orbit, mirroring lyrics which look at a future that never quite arrived and a present that seemingly lost its optimism somewhere along the way.
“Undertow” is slightly more understated, but Perfect Beasts possess such an obvious gift for melody that even the quieter moments make their mark. Then “Chasing Daylight” produces perhaps the most gorgeous solo on the album. The musicianship throughout is exceptional, but importantly it never becomes a vehicle for showing off. Everything serves the songs.
There is a pleasingly 80s sound to “On A Curve”, its synth-driven sheen wrapped around something far less comfortable, before “Every Saturday (One Night Only)” introduces a definite Marillion flavour. Its stories of ordinary people searching for an escape are beautifully drawn. “There’s always the hope that next week is different,” sings Mitchell. Never has a truer word been spoken, particularly for those who spend their Saturdays watching football before waiting for the band to take the stage.
The longest and most involved piece is the eponymous closer. “Perfect Beasts” stretches beyond seven minutes as it wrestles with Nietzsche, Zarathustra and humanity’s capacity to evolve beyond itself. “Let go your emotion,” Mitchell sings as the music builds towards its conclusion.
It dots the i’s and crosses the t’s on a record that is progressive without being self-indulgent, melodic without becoming lightweight and heavy without sacrificing its imagination. Perfect Beasts have created something clever, immediate and thoroughly enjoyable.
