Article and Photos by: Steven Principato
NYC – Living in the distant wake of the musically lethargic and guitar solo absent 1990’s,one might wonder if mankind could ever re-discover his long forsaken musical renaissancethey referred to as “Progressive” music. Was this esoteric magic extinct from the theoretically de-evolved modern day musician? I do confess, the answer surprised me. Prog is not dead, In fact, I found it thriving in a cramped Greenpoint metal-themed bar, packed to capacity on a Tuesday night.
Opening the show to the quickly filling confines of Saint Vitus Bar were the musically adept quartet from eastern Pennsylvania, Next to None. As they delivered uncommonly complex time signatures and confusing chord progressions that are commonly familiar to the balding and aged progressive-rock aficionados (like me), one would assume these four musically accomplished artists had endured years of classical instruction. However, if this theory were to be truth, the members of Next to None must have received their acceptance to the Berkeley School of Music following their completion of primary school due to the fact that all 4 members are around sixteen years of age. Ironically, these adolescent prog-metal prodigies would have never been granted admission to the darkened and cramped confines of Saint Vitus bar had they come as fans rather than performers.
While all four members boast extraordinary musicianship (for any age), all eyes appear to be focused on the wizardly drumming skills of Max Portnoy. There’s no secret regarding Max’s noble drumming lineage, so I won’t even try to de-emphasize that fact. However, can the fact of being signed to Inside Out Records and national tour at such an early age establish his potential future among drumming royalty like his father? (and Neil Peart, we mustn’t forget Neil Peart) Time will tell, but don’t ever say that I didn’t warn you about this kid!
In the meantime, be sure to check out Prog-Metal’s youngest new prospects in their upcoming full length record “A Light in the Dark”, available on Inside Out Records.
It’s certain that any band who is given the benefit of Next to None opening the show must also contend with the fact that such an powerhouse act is rather difficult to follow in any situation. Imminent Sonic Destruction, (currently on tour with Fates Warning) traveling all the way from the abandoned urban decay of Detroit, despite lacking in prosperity, boasts an abundance of musical history that may even eclipse the metaphorical gold paved streets of NYC. Detroit’s rich musical contributions in mind, I knew I was in capable hands when they took the stage. Taking their name from the Hawkwind track of the same title, In which the band played in their introduction, just in case some of us weren’t sure. Keeping with the progressive metal theme of the night, though with a bit more relaxed and humorous climate, Imminent sonic destruction’s skillful musicianship resulted in my questioning of such a self defeating band name. I guess the awesome Hawkwind track is good enough reason.
Finally, headlining tonight’s show were Hartford’s veteran prog-metal act, Fates Warning. Pre-dating most of their musically virtuous genre specific peers, including Dream Theater,Fates Warning’s steadfast devotees jam-packed the already claustrophobic mini theater of St. Vitus. As the band belted out fan-favorites dating back to 1984, It became rather clear that the heart of prog-metal was still beating…in the darkened streets of Greenpoint and many places beyond.
As the borderline two hour set came to a close and every chord combination that was mathematically feasible has been exhausted, as the million note melodies and confusingly timed drumbeats subsided, and as the largest collection of seven string guitars ever assembled at one time were packed up, I felt a sense of hope and even enlightenment in the progress of mankind. It was becoming apparent that progressive rock/metal, though in hiding, had not been killed off by the charlatans of radio friendly music as some have imagined and others had been hopeful. Ending on that note, who knows? Maybe I’ll find that Jazz is still alive next, residing under a false identity somewhere in middle America. Well, let’s not push it.
