Back in 2018, I received a record called “Nostalgia Is Killing Us” by Chris Cranick. I wrote the type of review saw people texting to see if I was alright. Turns out I wasn’t. But I digress.
Anyway, this is Cranick’s day job. Overdrive Orchestra – who bill themselves as “Progdelic” – are serial award winners. The Best Original Band award has been theirs for the last four years. Now the Michigan five piece are back with “Restless Star”.
Only 37 minutes in length, it’s nonetheless a weighty affair.
This is the album in their words: “Overdrive Orchestra’s fourth studio record ‘Restless Star’ is, quite simply, a fever dream. Touching on the cyclical nature of life and different forms of death – lost loved ones, past lives, ego, death – the album chronicles the process of letting go and being true to one’s beliefs. From breaking old habits that no longer serve us, to removing the many faces we wear, and acknowledging the mental health struggles that stem from modern existence. ‘Restless Star’ encourages the listener to rise above the haze of daily life and rediscover their sense of self.”
As I always say, such florid language presents a problem for those of us who generally pack our reviews with mentions of early Simpsons episodes, Frasier (the greatest comedy ever made and I’ll fight anyone that says different), and as many references to Scandinavian punk rock as possible.
I jest, of course, because like everything that they touch, this is gold.
From the moment that “Moonstruck” essentially broods its way into view, this is like a soundtrack that’s playing to a film in the collective heads of the band. Intent is the word. Class is another. Choose whatever you like, because this is a band that can do what they want to.
Clearly accomplished musicians, the guitar work on the likes of “Storyteller” elevates it to a level beyond. The rumble of “Dark Mountains” bass speaks of ominousness and confusion. “Don’t you look so surprised” sings Cranick and yet, it does surprise. It all does. There’s never a moment as a listener when you can settle in and know what’s coming next.
I don’t mind formulaic – hell, you can’t review as much AOR or country as I do and say anything otherwise – but the tinkle of piano on “Atlas”, say, or the more hard rock tinges of Written In Sand” bring to mind the likes of Powderfinger in terms of breadth and depth.
There’s a clever use of instrumentals as if to reflect on what’s gone on before. The light, airy acoustics of “…Adrift” are near folk, but the punk tinges of the brilliant “No Consent” jolt you out of any reverie. It’s supposed to. It’s a journey. It’s a meditation with ups and downs as any does.
It is genuinely astonishing how much is happening here. The hypnotic “Morning Dusk” – another of the instrumentals – the more strident “Looking Glass”, on which Cranick offers the thought that “time goes by, sweeps out of control”, or the magnificent title cut follow each other.
“I am not depressed,” says (an apt word) the frontman here, and the blues guitar is gorgeous and flavoured with a little Led Zeppelin.
That isn’t the last one, though – and there’s a crescendo to “Figure 8” that does close things. The way it does its choppy riff is very much modern prog, but given that the record is in and out in under 38 minutes, it is not quite the daunting journey that might have occurred elsewhere.
That, in a nutshell really is what Overdrive Orchestra are about. They are clever, they are classy, and way too good for the underground – and this meditation on the human condition is one of their best.
Rating 9/10
