•
Rating:
Ross Jennings, the controversial vocalist of Haken, has also tried his hand at being a solo artist. I say controversial simply because his voice raises many questions. It always seemed to me (and I don't think I'm the only one) to be the weak but forgivable spot of that incredible band that is Haken; it appears to lack bite, sometimes a bit too sweet, certainly in tune but not very impactful, repetitive and monotonous—it's like homework well done, in short. My friend Mattone (practically inactive on this site now), whom I know personally, once went so far as to call him a 'poor man's Jon Anderson.' Yet, I was still curious to see what he would create solo, and I must say he truly surprised me.
No metal and no prog, Ross brings practically nothing from his band and for his first solo attempt chooses a refined soft rock, all in the service of melody—a simple yet tremendously effective melody. The guitars sound very soft and are used just right; it's a risky choice, as the combination of lightly structured songs and light guitars can easily lead to flat and weak melodies, but everything here is managed excellently. Simplicity does not exclude attention to detail; every touch is essential and minimalist but well thought out. Ross's voice here surely takes on meaning—it certainly doesn't become one for the annals, but this time it's appreciated. While still rather slender, it proves crucial in supporting the melodic structure, surprisingly becoming a pillar, and skeptics might reconsider it. The mystery is revealed: Ross Jennings is not a prog-metal singer, and thus, is in the wrong band.
Nonetheless, the album doesn't limit itself to a monotonous pop-rock; there’s a good variety of solutions, even unique ones. From the acoustic freshness of "Better Times" and "Since That Day" to the captivating and atypical groove of "Words We Can’t Unsay" and the alternative funk of "Violet," through the frenzied and jazzy drumming of "The Apologist," to the dark yet lightened mood of "Year," reminiscent of some compositions by Anathema. A necessary mention for the three long tracks surprises with the ability to compose songs longer than average without falling into the prog trap. Those three tracks are actually examples of pop-rock simplicity stretched over 8 or even 11 minutes: in the longest "Phoenix," very close to Coldplay (it has some passages reminiscent of "Clocks"), the bright melody is so stretched out and well-distributed that those 11 minutes don't weigh at all; in "Grounded," Jennings’s voice finds its greatest expressiveness, also supported by orchestral inserts, with melodic clarity that even reminded me of the more inspired Subsignal.
Apart from these episodes, however, it's the entire album that flows well without hitches; the 75+3 minutes go by unnoticed by the listener; objectively, it's not easy to maintain the same setup for 75 minutes without falling into prolixity.
To close the album Jennings makes a rather debatable choice, drawing from the most insipid and commercial pop and deciding to cover a Dua Lipa track, "Be the One," as a bonus track—a choice that cannot help but attract criticism from purists but at the same time seems to send us a very clear message: we can act snobbish, be proggers, be alternative, and so on, but in the end, no matter how hard we try to hide...we all have a pop side, we're all a bit pop star!
What can I say, "A Shadow of My Future Self" is a pleasant surprise, the kind you don’t expect or think would leave a mark. And it probably won't end here, as Jennings concluded the year announcing he’s already working on his second album. The wait has already begun.
Loading comments slowly
