Aleph
Surface Tension

Australia certainly cannot be defined as one of the continents that have significantly contributed to the cause of progressive music, as bands originating from the "land of kangaroos" have never been very numerous. Among them, the great Sebastian Hardie should be remembered; they produced two masterpiece albums of symphonic progressive in perfect "Camel-style," but it's clear that groups like Aragon will hardly make it into the genre's history (with all due respect...).

The Korean label M2U Records has re-released (in a delightful LP-like cardboard package) the only album produced in 1977 by these Aleph, an Australian band whose existence I admittedly ignored. The lineup presents an interesting peculiarity: alongside bass, guitar, vocals, and percussion (handled respectively by David Highet, David Froggat, Joe Walmstey, Ron Carpenter), there are two talented female keyboardists, Mary Jane Carpenter and Mary Hansen. This is particularly intriguing as, in progressive bands, the representatives of the fairer sex, on the rare occasions they are present, are generally relegated behind the microphone (not to mention the girls who listen to this genre... real outliers).

The music offered by Aleph presents itself as a happy marriage between symphonic progressive and American-style rock, in the manner of great bands such as Kansas and Styx, and appears from the outset to have significant artistic depth. It starts off brilliantly with "Banshee," a track not very long in which, following a piano and vocal intro, the band immediately gets into it with an aggressive guitar supported by piano and synth layers, creating a rather complex accompaniment for an immediately engaging vocal melody. The following track, "Man Who Fell," appears slightly less convincing, while the subsequent "Morning" returns to high levels thanks to a start led by the electric guitar, weaving a very beautiful melody over a piano accompaniment, all enhanced by a wild drumming; the vocal melody, also quite incisive, comes in a bit later and alternates with frantic instrumental parts, all in just over 4 minutes: a little gem that proves once again how great prog doesn't necessarily require mega suites of at least 10 minutes (Gentle Giant teaches...). The next track, "(You Never Were a) Dreamer," is a rather charming ballad yet not essential, and it serves as an appetizer to the main course of the album, the almost 15-minute suite "Mountaineer," a masterpiece. In this track, the piano, synths, and electric guitar intertwine and blend dynamically and engagingly, supporting a beautiful vocal melody, all in full Kansas style. After a few verses, the first tempo and thematic change introduces an instrumental part where the guitar and piano play the main roles with great pathos, and we're not even halfway through the suite, which continues with an alternation between vocal parts, always of excellent level, and instrumental ones characterized by the continuous alternation of the lead instrument with others gradually weaving musical background interludes. The album ends with the relaxed and melodic "Heaven's Archipelago," a worthy conclusion to a really beautiful album that I can only warmly recommend to all enthusiasts.