Cul De Sac
China Gate

Among the hidden gems of the great Nineties that have just passed, "China Gate" deserves to be placed with full merit, the third album by the Bostonians Cul De Sac, true gurus of the new experimental prog scene.

Their music is elegance, sobriety, and research, enriched with a certain exotic taste that recalls the Japanese Ghost, equally mythical composers of the genre. Their compositions are floral vignettes, authentic "haikus" in music that seem suspended in the most mystical void, sprinkled here and there with a sumptuous guitar playing that is influenced by the Floydian aesthetic.
Pink Floyd, progressive, orientalism, and any sort of orientalisms, experimental electronics à la Brian Eno, therefore. These are the clarifying coordinates of their sound, and "China Gate," their third endeavor, released in 1996, is, at least in the opinion of the writer, their most exemplary expression.

It begins with an almost Gregorian choir where Zen monks' voices emphasize the title "China Gate," then this singular choir overlaps with some subdued voices that seem to be taken directly from the recording studio. Finally, the music begins: "Sakhalin" is an overture that starts low but gradually elevates to an increasingly greater perfection, reaching a peak of transcendence excellently expressed by guitar virtuosity that aspires to infinity. The free-jazz of "Nepenthe" lasts a splendid ten minutes, with the bass acting as a dark disturbing element of the litany intoned by the guitar. Soon, the bass itself becomes the protagonist of the scene and carries forward the main motif, while smoky lounge music serpents float in the background. It is a gem that alone would be worth the purchase of the work.

But the masterpieces certainly do not stop here: "Doldrums" is a captivating and frenetic melody built on an oriental-sounding drone and free-form noise improvisations. It returns to jazz and retro taste with "James Colburn," marked by the funereal beat of the bass, which could very well belong to one of the latest Pink Floyd albums. "Virgin Among Cannibals" instead is a hypothetical soundtrack for asylums throughout the first part, until dissonances race through an inconclusive tribal orgy. One of the most enigmatic tracks ever.
"Hemispheric Events Command" is yet another proof of their immense talent in crafting captivating melodies even in complete Cubist deconstruction: frequent jingle-jangle guitar sounds are surrounded by a metaphysical bass that begins to intone the most celestial of melodies, before leading into another distorted sound wall. "The Colomber" is a sort of apocalyptic mantra that transforms into a Montgomery-style jam rich in drones and dissonances. The whole, although chaotic, is nevertheless compact and exciting, veiled with a certain easy-listening that makes it an accessible piece in any case.

It closes with the last "masterpiece": the finale of "Utolpia" is rock anthology material; it is simply wonderful. The tropical aesthetic makes itself heard again, characterized by the usual crescendo that denotes the music of this fantastic group. With this record, Cul De Sac has gifted us with a sparkling work in the Olympus of the forgotten.

Fantastic example of neo-prog, "China Gate" must be listed as one of the ten most beautiful albums of the decade of "Emotional Plague" and "Harsh 70's Reality." It is a record to have and cherish jealously.