Robert Reed is an English multi-instrumentalist and composer long devoted to progressive music. It dates back to 1984, during the rise of new prog, with the formation of Cyan, a band that lasted the space of a demo and a handful of concerts. Years later, Reed revisited the old songs and transformed the group into his solo project, playing almost all the instruments himself and receiving help from guest musicians. Cyan's recording debut dates back to 1993 with SI Music releasing the album "For King And Country," and from that moment on, their fortunes have been quite mixed, linked to the downfall of the Dutch label and the birth of F2 Records, their current label. From a discographic perspective, there has been a continuous creation of honest albums typical of English new prog, with the creative peak being the excellent "The Creeping Vine" from 1999.

The Cyan project alone was apparently not enough to satisfy the good Reed, who, in 1995, embarked on a diversion by joining the "supergroup" Fyreworks, with whom he produced an excellent album. The Magenta, here at their debut, represent the latest act in Reed's great desire to play and compose. In "Revolutions," he takes on the roles of guitar, keyboards, bass, and vocals. Joining him in the project are Christina on vocals, Tim Robinson on drums, plus various guest guitarists for the solo parts of different tracks.

The CD whets the appetite of prog fans right from the cover, a bit in the style of the '70s, featuring a logo with a clear Yes-inspired look that seems fresh from the pen of Roger Dean. The anticipation continues to grow when observing the back of the CD: the echo of ancient "topographic oceans" is also found in the tracklist, with the album divided into 2 discs featuring 4 mega-suites lasting from 19 to almost 25 minutes each. The two suites are separated by very brief acoustic guitar interludes, and on the second disc, there is also a third track of about 7 minutes.

But let's move on to the music. The style is one of those good new progs, if you know what I mean, characterized by all the trademarks of the genre (which by now you should know by heart): excellent melodic lines, extremely refined arrangements, dreamy layers of keyboards, piano interludes, acoustic guitar arpeggios, electric guitars weaving true sonic arabesques, and a great, great female voice that can't help but remind one of the immense Annie Haslam (I'm not a big fan of female voices in prog, but I was enthralled listening to her). The sound references are also very well identifiable, ranging from Genesis to Marillion, from Yes to Renaissance, and sometimes even too explicit, with a couple of short sections in the long "Man the Machine" that embarrassingly recall a certain "Apocalypse in 9/8" and a "Garden Party" reminiscence of Marillion.

Needless to say, the CD will be targeted by the usual fierce criticism from the "purists" of progressive music, provided they find the time to do so, being busy blaming Dream Theater and Spock's Beard for all the misfortunes of progressive music. For the less uncompromising, I say we have an excellent CD at hand, a sort of "Bignami" of 30 years of progressive rock, revived through some imitation (to a limited extent), but above all through sincere inspiration and admiration that drives Reed to compose in the style of his "masters," so much so that he writes in the booklet, "any resemblance to bands past and present is completely intentional."

At this point, it becomes natural to wonder if it's not better to listen to "Foxtrot" for the thousandth time rather than this "Revolutions." Maybe, but personally, despite the immense love I have for the "sacred monsters" of the genre, I often feel the need to listen to new music that somehow recalls those long-lost sounds. And if Genesis no longer exists, or until they were performing offered us stuff like "I Can Dance," then welcome Magenta and their "Revolutions." It may not be one of the "revolutions" the title promises, but at least the magic of prog continues...

Loading comments  slowly