Threshold
Legends of the Shires

We know it, Threshold are the Ac/DC (I wanted to even say Ligabue but the comparison would have been really too gaudy) of progressive metal: they have never really tried to dare, to attempt a new path. I don't know what fear they've had since the dawn of time, but the fact is that if you take a record from today and one from twenty years ago and play them to anyone, they won’t be able to tell you which one was made in 2017 and which in 1997. However, this lack of renewal has never affected their ability to produce grandiose records, never a misstep in their career. And it has never led to them being judged as tedious or annoying, a risk that with an always more or less same formula is indeed run. Probably the fact is that repetition in the progressive realm is certainly less tedious than in the pop/rock world, maybe because being a genre made of rather varied elements it is never truly repetitive; or perhaps the fact is that Threshold’s style is an absolutely unique mix of thrash metal, hard rock, progressive, AOR, and electronic elements, which always arouses a pinch of curiosity.

Someone then might wonder... “but if the soup is always the same, what will there be to say about the new album?”... Well, I say that there is something to say about this “Legends of the Shires.” For example, that the album is the most prog and with the deepest and most intense atmosphere made in years and years; more prog not only compared to the previous three albums but even since “Clone.” Because the band's early approach was indeed less immediate than in more recent times; already lighter and more accessible was that shown in the central trilogy “Hypothetical” - “Critical Mass” - “Subsurface,” probably the most balanced phase and the one that probably gained them the most acclaim and made them appreciated and respected. But it was the subsequent move to Nuclear Blast that led the band towards a more decided simplification of their proposal, with three albums more explicitly direct and less profound.

Now, however, the band has taken a definite step back, complicating things instead of simplifying them as in the previous three albums, and some elements make this clear; for example, the fact that for the first time it is a double album, with a total of 82 minutes of music, that it is a concept album, that there are 5 tracks over 7 minutes long (something that had not happened since their first album), and there are even an acoustic intro and a piano interlude, certainly unusual for the group.

From the point of view of the line-up, however, the third separation in their career from vocalist Damian Wilson is to be mentioned, and the return of Glynn Morgan, who had expertly sung only in the masterpiece dated 1994 “Psychedelicatessen” before disappearing into oblivion; here he is again after over twenty years in great shape, delivering a gritty and convincing performance.

But let's get into the heart of the work. As mentioned, we have 5 long tracks to testify to the marked progressive vein of the album. “The Man Who Saw Through Time” presents the first delicate minutes, guided by the piano and rhythms typical of a ballad but then evolves into something stronger while keeping the melody in the foreground over aggression, then returns to slow at the end; a track that in structure could closely resemble “Pilot in the Sky of Dreams.” “Trust the Process” is probably the best track on the album, boasting a powerful guitar-vocal combination in the verses but above all notable dynamism that translates into excellent instrumental finesse and rhythmic variations. The dark “Stars and Satellites” also stands out, with delicate and dark guitar touches and a sublime slow central part; in terms of structure and darkness, it could vaguely remind one of “The Latent Gene.” “Snowblind,” on the other hand, strikes with the ease with which it alternates aggressive bursts and melodic pauses, while notable rhythmic variety and instrumental solutions interest “Lost in Translation.”

But even if we take the less long tracks, we notice that being too easy is not the album's prerogative; “On the Edge,” for example, has particular guitar passages in the verses and significant and sudden accelerations, “Subliminal Freeways,” despite its simplicity, has those heavy symphonic keyboards that give the track an intense and surreal atmosphere.

Even the ballads are really of a certain depth; “The Shire (Part 2)” and “State of Independence” are certainly superior to some recent ones like “That’s Why We Came” or “Lost in Your Memory,” not to mention the splendid “Swallowed,” which picks up the slow part of “Stars and Satellites” and is more than anything else a very successful outro.

Then, as already mentioned, there are “The Shire (Part 1)” and “The Shire (Part 3)” which are unusual interludes for the band: the first is a semi-acoustic intro whose idea will be picked up and developed in part 2, while the second is a piano interlude with the background voice of former bassist Jon Jeary.

The only two powerful and somewhat catchy tracks to the point of seeming as though they came from the last records’ sessions are “Small Dark Lines” and “Superior Machine,” two tracks for speeding in a car that would not have looked out of place in the first part of “Dead Reckoning.”

We can thus conclude by saying that Threshold, while not changing the formula much, simply returning to greater complexity, have produced the best album in at least a dozen years, which can stand toe-to-toe with several of their classics published in the ’90s and 2000s. Certainly, if they had dared a little more in their career, my (and others') judgment on this band would probably be higher than it already is, but as long as they continue to have a unique mix and produce records of this caliber, they can afford to repeat themselves as much as they want.