Seven Impale
City of the Sun

A young Norwegian band, with a not too unusual lineup (vocals, two guitars, bass, keyboard, saxophone, and drums), equipped with a good technical skillset but little to no inclination for virtuosity or individual protagonism, and with behind them an EP not particularly acclaimed (“Beginning/Relieve”, from 2013). A profile like many others, on which few, I believe, would have bet much when in 2014, the group finally released their debut album, “City of the Sun”.
Just five tracks, ranging from 6 and a half to almost 15 minutes in length, in the best tradition of the golden years of progressive rock. And it is clearly in the sounds of the great '70s bands that Seven Impale take root, but their evocation never goes beyond suggestion, nor do they get trapped in mere mannerist quotation or in repeating already widely heard canons and styles. The six young men from Bergen instead manage to develop a sound that is at once clean and precise, but also ambitious, adventurous, and multi-layered. Their stylistic mark lies entirely in the continuous quest to transcend genre boundaries, to propose new seemingly discordant combinations, with unpredictable tempo changes, capable of creating new suggestions but at the same time leaving a sense of completeness and familiarity. This is accompanied by a distinct sense of thoughtful orchestration and a remarkable skill in crafting exhilarating, powerful, and captivating riffs and an impressive ability to weave dizzying crescendos, leading up to the inevitable climactic explosion.
The album begins with “Oh my gravity”, a good manifesto of the group's chameleonic tendencies, which with great ease manages to line up a jazzy intro, a hard-prog body where keyboards and sax chase each other non-stop and a melodic sung interlude that unexpectedly resurfaces in a delicate ending. Almost without a break, the end of the track gently slides into the opening of the next piece “Windshears”, where, if possible, the daring juxtapositions between more relaxed moments, polyrhythmic bridges and violent hard/jazz-rock blasts leave even more without references, yet maintaining a solidly linear development and an extremely balanced equilibrium. The evolution of the piece is indeed absolutely fluid, driven by an incredibly inspired saxophone and culminating in a powerful chorale finale.
The bold game of abrupt and disorienting tempo changes continues, in reverse sequence, with “Eschaton Hero”, introduced by a rapid phrasing led by keyboard, sax, and drums that, just when it seems to want to accelerate, gives way to one of the most delicate and melodic moments of the whole album. The singing becomes ethereal, almost whispered, but it is just a brief interlude, swept away by a relentless sound storm, at times syncopated, torn apart by saxophone roars and powerful guitar blasts. And when the tension is fully saturated, it is once again a sharp saxophone passage that sets the timing for the last 180° twist, which picks up the central vocal theme and leads to the elegant closure.
One might think that with the previous three tracks Seven Impale have exhausted the possibilities of experimenting with audacious sonic excursions, but the subsequent “Extraction” pushes the bar even higher. The organized chaos of the initial jam, with vague flavors of psychedelia, blues, and space rock is repeatedly interrupted by a saxophone theme that marks the transition to a fragment dominated by keyboards and vocals first screamed, but then slowly evolves into a whisper, grows in intensity paving the way for one of the few guitar solos on the album, poignant and fleeting, yet absolutely fit to prepare the way for the concluding riff, which manages to perfectly combine all the souls that traversed the track.
The final track, “God left us for a black-dressed woman”, is a dizzying climb to peaks of unexplored intensity, the ultimate confirmation of the group’s eclecticism, which this time manages to amaze with a relatively less showy piece, but that shines with a granitic structure and a simply epic construction. The beginning is soft, once again relying on the saxophone’s ability to weave an enveloping instrumental plot, but which soon dissolves, giving way to the keyboards, working to drag all the other instruments towards the first peak and open the way for the entrance of the vocals. The voice slowly begins to take space, then expands and surges to new heights, alternating with skewed experimental interludes with a Canterbury scent, and then continues the ascent gripping tightly to the sax and guitar phrasing. The peak seems reached, but it's just an impression. A simple keyboard riff insinuates itself, clambers up first creeping, then flanking the other instruments that slowly support and exalt it, in a constant, methodical, inexorable, definitive, majestic crescendo, towards a stylistically and emotionally impeccable finale.
A breath of fresh air. “City of the Sun” is truly an inspired, surprising, and captivating debut, but beyond the nearly unanimous enthusiastic comments from the specialized press, it paradoxically places Seven Impale in the unenviable position of having a lot to prove. What the outcome of this challenge will be can soon begin to be evaluated. On September 16, 2016, the release of “Contrapasso”, the highly anticipated appeal of one of the most promising bands among the new waves of the progressive rock universe, is indeed planned.