The Flower Kings are very much a cult concern. They are the Prog bands’ Prog Band and are adored by a small but dedicated contingent of beard-stroking, real ale-drinking gentlemen. This is sort of The Flower Kings and sort of a Roine Stolt solo project as in 2018 he decided he was done being in a group and disbanded the band much to the displeasure of keyboardist Tomas Bodin. Long-term members Hasse Fröbergand and Michael Stolt are now back in the band but it isn’t clear whether they are there as full contributors or mere session musicians. Anyway, enough of the office politics, “By Royal Decree” is meant to be the spiritual follow-up to their 1997 masterpiece “Stardust We Are” and it does succeed in having the same level of wide-eyed innocence that that album had. It does not feel processed or predetermined, like other examples of modern prog. Instead, it has a warm feeling of spontaneous creation, like the music just comes into being when you press play. It feels light and enticing and beautifully edifying. Just like prog should be.

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More brutal death metal, but this time the home-grown variety via the highly thought-of Mancunian quartet (though due to the departure of Sam Yates they are currently operating as a power trio). They are six albums into a highly promising career and “Ashes Lie Still” does nothing to upset their momentum. It’s corrosive and crunching, full of crushing breakdowns and blistering pace. They are doing very little different than their previous releases but when it’s this pristine and this precision engineered there is no real need to make any significant changes.

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And the death metal continues to roll out, this time courtesy of the Baltimoreion legends Misery Index. For 20 years Misery Index have rather effectively spliced traditional death with grind. For the uninitiated grind is death metal’s feral younger brother. It has no truck with any journey towards respectability and instead is quite happy to sit in the corner and play with his own faeces. “Complete Control” is another collection of nasty, gnarled semi-formed treaties on the state of the world. It’s vicious, jagged, and highly effectively concise. The whole thing is done and dusted in 33 minutes, leaving you battered and bruised but rather partial to go another round.

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Our second bunch of French experimentalists (and, spoiler, they won’t be the last), Birds in a Row are currently doing highly interesting things within the usually safe territories of post-rock. They seem to work on two separate levels, the top layer is harsh and brittle, fuelled by course vocals. I would love to tell you who the vocalist is but they never let on, instead opting to operate as a collective with no details given about the individual members. Below the crust there is another layer, this is actually much more melodic and seems to borrow generously from 80’s jingling jangly indie. There are times in “Gris Klein” when these two facets of Birds in a Row’s world seem to operate as entirely separate entities but then there are moments where they combined together to create an awesome miss-mash of contrasting styles. I’m sure that these layers have their layers, as this is a highly complex and intricately constructed album. This is a record where at 5 or 6 listens I am still not yet to do it justice.

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The unexpected but wholly welcome return of the American progressive metal pioneers Zero Hour who called it a day back in 2008 when founding member Troy Tipton suffered horrific injuries that meant he could no longer play his bass. Fast forward fourteen years and Troy’s brother (and fellow original member) Jasun has reunified the outfit using original vocalist Erik Rosvold and a couple of hired hands on bass and drums. Musically it’s like they never went away and “Agenda 21” continues in the same vein of a more sophisticated and experimental Dream Theatre. The lyrical content does trespass into some areas occupied by right-wing conspiracy theorist’s but if we are going to be honest so did those penned by the late great Neil Peart of Rush and we never let that sway us from the brilliance of that band. So if you can take the verbal musings with a large pinch of salt this is a rather dandy and highly edifying slice of prime-time prog.

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The utterly amazing, undefinable and completely unique Ms. Jo Quail. If you told me 10 years ago that a female classically trained cellist operating solo would become a leading light in our very chauvinistic and small-minded world, I would have laughed at you. But here we are, Jo Quail has managed to carve a place in our world (that says undeterred “Metal as Fuck”) without once changing who or diluting what she’s doing.

What’s she does do is simply quite remarkable. She creates a sound I cello, catches it and then loops it back. By doing this multiple times she creates her own evocative, dark and sensory backing track over which her cello is able to mournfully tread. It’s one of those cases where you are acutely aware of the mechanics behind what she’s doing but it doesn’t take away any of the wonder of the achievement.

“The Cartographer” is evocative and minimal. It consists of five distinct movements commissioned for the Roadburn festival. The idea behind it is to explore the heaviness that is at the heart of classical music and to challenge the notions that classical and heavy metal exists in different spaces. It is quite something and it is another album where I still don’t think I’m yet to get the most out of it. Slow burning but utterly worth it.

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The bands who would be king. Bleed from Within are probably the longest-gestating “overnight sensation” ever. For sixteen years and over six albums, these plucky Scots have tirelessly toiled to make it up Metal’s slippery pole. At numerous points, it had looked like they were about to surface into the wider psyche only for them to inexplicably plunge back into obscurity. But, but this may just be their moment. “Shrine” is a solid piece of commercial metalcore that, whilst not spectacular, gives them enough anthemic ammunition to make an impact where they are at their most potent, namely in the live arena. They nailed it at diddy Download and Bloodstock last year and at the full-fat Download this year and “Shrine” feels like the work of a band that feels like their destiny is finally in their own hands. This time next year Rodney…….

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Whilst only an ongoing eternity for nine years, it does feel that Wolfheart has been around for a lot longer than that. Their previous five albums have all been in and around my end-of-the-year lists and “Flames of Perdition” by Tumas’ other band Dawn of Solace scored highly last year. “King of the North” manages to be a little more than your standard Viking-obsessed Melodeath. It’s big, Widescreen and really rather epic, but there also seems to be a lot of effort made in terms of the actual song writing. Usually, in this game, it’s a case of a couple of jaunty choruses, some whooa-whooas and their job is a good ‘un. Here it feels actual thought has gone into each and every one of the tracks and it sounds all the better for it.

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More indignation from Generation X. This is a highly political protest album that makes no apologies for being thoroughly pissed off about what my generation is doing to the world. It describes a dystopian world that the band sees as the inevitable result of the environmental crisis that we currently face. The riffs are crisp and direct but there is also a level of progressive experimentation about their sound. They don’t seem content with staying within metalcore oppressive structures and instead, they deviate into various other genres. Anger has indeed made them very creative.

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Well, it has taken us 29 records to get here but this is our first proper deviation from the metal (Smashing Pumpkins don’t count they live on the peripheries of our world). If you have even half an eye on modern music you will be familiar with the almost metaphorical rise of Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers. That ‘Chaise Longue’ song seemed to become the soundtrack to everything over the last two years. The good news is that is not the best thing on this album by far and what they seem to have crafted is a wonderfully refreshing return to the jiggly jangly indie of the 90’s that I thought had become extinct. It’s playful, quaint, and refreshingly quirky. Just when I thought indie has abandoned its position as the music of Goth, geeks and outcasts it chucks out this fabulous slice of off-kilter absurdity. Let’s dance like the noughties never happened.

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Okay, that was a short respite from the tsunami of angry young men shouting at us. We are right back in the fray here with the internally angry Fit for an Autopsy. We are getting to the point already when there is very little wrong with the albums that I have selected and is now just on the scale of what I loved the most. I was instantly taken with the inventiveness of this record. Death metal can be incredibly conservative and struggles with anything that doesn’t fit into its rigid structures. This felt gloriously different.

Yes, it’s heavy, and yes it is driven by gruff vocals but there seemed to be so much variety and diversity in where the music behind the screaming was actually going. So much of this stuff is heavy and pounding simply for the sake of being heavy and pounding. But this felt different, there were textures and shifts in the level of intensity. As a singular entity, it felt like the band had realized that you didn’t need to be full on the entire time and that actually if you lent back now and again, it made the impact of the next wave of desolate anger even more potent

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More French audio experimentation but with an added dash of Swedish pizzazz. Final light is a collaboration between Synthwave pioneer Pertubator (who just happens to be, trivia fans, the son of legendary NME journalist Nick Kent) and Johannes Persson of the utterly awesome Cult of Luna (who, if I’m honest, we haven’t heard the last of). Final light merges their two worlds (namely post-metal and synth-driven experimentalism). In some places, it does sound like Johannes screaming over a Pertubator record (which in itself is not a bad thing) but there are other points where it creates an evocative and haunting amalgamation of the two styles. Whipped together they seem to create a dark impenetrable mesh of atmospheric darkness. It manages to highly effectively blend bleakness and beauty to the point where this hybrid of styles feels evocative enough to go head-to-head with either of the collaborator’s chosen areas of expertise.

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Another slice of ominous ethereal atmospherics for you to savour. Darkher is essentially the creative outlet for Hebden Bridge resident Jayn Maiven. Her lilting warblings marry beautifully with the slight, but still sturdy, introspective doom metal that accompanies her. This is metal at its most slight and fragile. It conjures in the mind up images of desolate moors and robed figures. Mechanistically cinematic, it is a sea of brooding contemplation. Metal for thinking people.

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Grovetastic Doom n’ roll from Sweden. They obviously looked at what Kvelertak did with black metal and thought why don’t we inject a bit of a rock ‘n’ roll swagger to metal’s most monosyllabic genres. This is doom metal that you can dance to, full of filthy riffs and heavy rhythmic grooves. It flounces as opposed to plods and feels far more good time than is usually permitted within the confines of generic doom metal. Lea Amling Alazam’s voice is just stunning. Raspy and sensual, it just oozes out of the speakers. Overall a surprisingly exuberant record that put a much needed spring in my step.

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A second slice of metal free goodness, this time courtesy of psychedelic rock veterans Spiritualized. Now, this is a curious one as I absolutely hated their previous release “And Nothing Hurt” seeing it as nothing more than a vacuous retread of past glories. Bizarrely enough the seven tracks that makeup “Everything Was Beautiful” come from exactly the same demo sessions as the previous record and Jason Spaceman has gone as far as describe it as a companion piece. So something has happened to either me or to their sound in the intervening four years as I absolutely loved this. It felt warm and enriching and took me back to the hazy days of the early 90’s. It felt nostalgic but also forward-thinking and I found myself, for the first of a long time, realising that nobody writes heart-breaking soliloquies like Mr. Spaceman.

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Right, I promised you curveballs and here comes one hell of a curveball. Yes it’s that Ugly Kid Joe of “and I hate everything about you” fame. Yes, they are still going, yes, they still wear backward baseball caps, and yes they have released an album capable of achieving a respectable mid-table placing in the hallowed hundred. Key to the success of this record is the fact that it sounds nothing like you would expect it to, it also manages to leap around various genres and styles whilst still managing to maintain a sense of coherence.

‘That Aint Livin’ and ‘Failure’ sound like lost Bon Scott era AC/DC. We probably would be crying plagiarism if they weren’t so darn good and certainly better than anything the mighty DC have dredged up many a year. But as I said it’s a magical mystery tour through the many bands that probably influence them, ‘Not like the Other’ sounds like the Sweet and ‘Drinkin' and Drivin’ is as about an authentic a country lament as you are going to get. It all results in a thoroughly enjoyable album that quite effectively manages why we all fell in love with rock ‘n’ roll in the first place.

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Let’s follow one curveball with another as we have the shock horror of The Cult making a pretty decent album. For a band whose recent live sets seem content to ignore everything that they created after 1989, it is quite a surprise to find them so creative and so seemingly current. “Under the Midnight Sun” sounds like the Cult but the Cult if they had been formed in 2022. Don’t worry this is not an embarrassing exercise in 60-year-old men trying to be hip and trendy, this is still very much a rock ‘n’ roll record but it is a rock ‘n’ roll record that is aware that the last 30 years have happened. Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy sound like they’re having fun. Under the Midnight Sun hasn’t got the air of a contractual obligation exercise and instead the impression is very much to all friends making music for the simple joy of doing so. And by doing so they have sculptured the first cult album in decades that is actually worth bothering with.

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We seem to have reached a self-generating stream of veteran acts producing surprisingly decent records. Darkthrone are the Black Sabbath of black metal. Numerous other acts have gone on to be more well-known and produce frankly better material than they have, but they are the innovators, they are black metal’s year zero. Nearly 40 years later they are still prolifically making records (but only records, they played live once did like it, and have never bothered a stage again) and there probably isn’t a sub-genre of extreme metal that they have not bothered. Doom, they’ve done it. Death metal, they’ve done it. Crust Punk, they’ve done it. Judas Priest on steroids, they’ve done it. Authentic NWOBHM, they’ve done it.

Recently they have had fun imagining what a Black metal album by Motorhead would have sounded like and “Astral Fortress” very much stays within that fertile playground. The perception (usually right) is that like metal is humourless and completely self-absorbed. Darkthrone buck against that trend as this is essentially still two mates having a laugh making music that they love. They may now be in their 50s and they may have a legacy that they will never live down, but the most enjoyable thing about this album is the fact that you can tell they are having a whale of a time making it.

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There seems to be a distinct lack of emerging talent as this is yet another entry by yet another veteran act. Porcupine Tree are often described as “the most important band that you have never heard of.” They almost single-handedly kept hold of the flame in those bygone days when prog was a dirty word. They were an underground sensation, producing intelligent and beautifully structured music for a small but dedicated following. In a strange quirk of fate, they decided to call it a day at the start of the last decade, just as prog was beginning to become the mainstream force that it is now.

What we didn’t realize was that all the way through their seeming period of inactivity, they were actually secretly meeting to piece together what would become their comeback album. Eleven years in the making “Closure/Continuation”, is a breath-taking piece of modern progressive rock. It is luscious in its instrumentation and ambitious in its scope. Whilst it is not a concept album as we understand it to be it does feel like a continual suite of music, which is, even more, the achievement when you recall that it has been recorded in fits and spurts going all the way back to 2011. Evocative, entrancing and essentially everything you would expect from a Porcupine Tree album.

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This is getting silly now. Clutch are yet another entry with an awful lot of miles on the clock. They are archetypal Blues drenched hard rock with an additional heavy bottom. Imagine if you will that Status Quo and Black Sabbath formed a Mcbusted type outfit and you are properly most of the way there. This is album number 13 and they are within quite an incredible purple patch where their recorded output actually seems to be getting better. Many groups would see four decades of toil as the perfect point to start resting on their laurels and go about creating any old crap. But not Clutch. They are buckled down and conjured up a smorgasbord of southern licks and metal bravado. They seem to have an unquenchable fire in their collective bellies and that burning desire to be creative is what makes this album so enticing.

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