Marillion
Happiness is the Road

THE REVIEW

They're back! Less than a year and a half since the (disappointing) "Somewhere Else," Marillion delivers a work, their fifteenth (eleven from the Steve Hogarth era after Fish's departure-expulsion in 1988), double CD titled "Happiness is the Road," which confirms the admirable pace of a band now far from the spotlight of twenty years ago (long out of the major market, they self-produce and survive thanks to a solid fan base) but still very much alive after over a quarter of a century of existence.

This time, the five Englishmen, to launch this work, have chosen to "exploit" the fans again, who were previously willing to pre-order the album well in advance in exchange for a deluxe edition with the buyer's name inside the booklet. And so, for almost a year, they've "made money" (talk of 12,000 copies sold) and could meticulously work to produce "Happiness is the Road." But just a few days ago (and this is the real novelty), the album is also available, over a month ahead of the "real" CDs, for free download in mp3 format at 128 kbps. Not the best, but certainly enough to get a precise idea.

Basing this review on listening to the "horrible" files (awaiting the precious, approximately 30-pound postal package), this album will be reviewed. The assessment is thus incomplete, especially from a lyrical perspective, which is not a marginal aspect in Marillion's production.

The album, as mentioned, is double, and almost two separate works. CD1, "Essence," is a concept album aimed, tautologically, at reaching (or at least approaching) the essence of music, life, happiness (the "global" title is taken from a Buddha's maxim that says "There is no way to happiness, happiness IS the way"). The album flows in an exemplary manner, without falls and (but this is just a first impression), without even absolute peaks. Anyone expecting a Brave2, or the magic of a Neverland or an Invisible Man, would be mistaken. No breathtaking solos from guitarist Steve Rothery (who seems almost to hide, actually he devotes himself to a masterful "behind-the-scenes" work), no tear-jerking moments, emotion flows steadily on a compact sonic carpet where often the individual instruments (with perhaps the exception of Mark Kelly's keyboards, unleashed in seeking new samples and sounds) seem to disappear, leaving the "stage" to MUSIC in its essence. However, this is just an impression: this is an album to be read on various levels, to be listened to several times, perhaps with headphones, to be absorbed. And then the spark ignites. And even some individual episodes surely stand out, like the title track Happiness is the Road, ten minutes of magic with a subdued start (even Steve Hogarth's voice here reminds me of Jim Kerr from Belfast Child) and a keyboard-guitar-bass carpet (Pete Trewavas, a giant despite his stature) that rises to shout the anthem to happiness. The new-prog of the Fish era is a faint memory, this is rock played and thought out by five great professionals, there are Post-rock moments (the brief instrumental Liquidity, which reminded me of certain Depeche Mode), there's Ambient. In short, an album not immediately accessible but of great class. It closes with Half Empty Jam (a track that will have the "ghost track" status in the CD), half-improvisation on a recurring theme where everyone plays their part with a syncopated rhythm where bass, keyboards, and Ian Mosley's still effective "skins" chase and play with usual mastery.

CD2, "The Hard Shoulder," is instead a more heterogeneous collection of tracks, nine in total. Perhaps more directly a child of "Somewhere Else" (the production was again entrusted to Mike Hunter, despite much criticism of his supposed "flattening" work done with the previous album. And this time he seems to have hit the mark). Here there are also a couple of "little songs" that so annoy the twenty-year-old fans: the single Whatever is Wrong with You, launched at the beginning of the summer with a contest for the creation of a video (with a prize of 10,000 pounds, hundreds of works competing), is a rather catchy pop-rock, with an immediate riff and a nice, very dirty solo from Rothery; rather disappointing is Half the World, medium rhythm and rather bland choruses. But there are also the jewels, and what jewels. Particularly standing out, in my opinion, are The Man from Planet Marzipan, eight minutes of rock with fusion overtones where bass and keyboards create an unsettling background with various tempo changes on which the solo instruments intrude, the magical voice of H (since 1989 the "New singer of Marillion," as a t-shirt worn by little Steve says in response to supporters of the now stale dualism with Fish) and the six strings of "chubby" Rothery. Also beautiful is the following Asylum Satellite 1, a long track divided into various sections in this case dominated by the guitar (the sound is similar to that of the beautiful When I Meet God, from the controversial Anoraknophobia), in this CD2 definitely coming out of the shadows. The rest is still enjoyable, never below a broad sufficiency.

A great comeback, a rebuttal to those who feared a rushed album given the short time compared to the release of "Somewhere Else." It won't be "Brave," it won't be "Marbles" (much less "Script for a Jester's Tear"), but once again, approaching the age of 50, a jewel of great music from these five extraordinary musicians.  Excuse the verbosity.