As Ave Noctum’s old git in residence and self-professed Thotch-head, when amongst the normal deliveries of satanic screams and unreadable band logos a hint of Prog arrives at the editor’s dungeon abode, and that’s just Prog, not Prog-Metal, it is my duty, and my pleasure, to step up to the plate whilst stroking my goatee in a suitably profound way and do the necessary. As such, when the self titled first release from Norway’s Soft Ffog appeared, the CD was forwarded for my perusal. Keyed up as I am from a recent trip to see Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets, and excited for the forthcoming 50th anniversary Yes tour of ‘Close To The Edge’ (Alan White RIP), I nevertheless heard a few alarm bells ringing in the background. Firstly, the label name is Is it Jazz? Records, a sub-label of purveyors of modern Prog Karisma. Secondly, the blurb, whilst name checking both Hendrix and Deep Purple, did make much mention of the band being founded at a Jazz Festival, and featuring a number of modern Jazz journeymen. Finally, when I put the CD into my iTunes to rip, the genre the machine assigned was “Jazz”. Well, a little bit of clicking and typing, and it was reclassified as “Prog”, and the music started.
With a cover that has a hint of Roger Dean’s magical landscapes, and just four tracks, each named after a Streetfighter character, there was a good chance that Soft Ffog would silence my fears, and indeed album opener ‘Chun Li’ started with some gentle drifting electronic sounds to start to craft the sonic landscape of the track. The rhythm section then joins in with precise beats before the guitar starts to wander into the territory that Steve Howe has called his own for nearly six decades, and there is every sign that this could be something a bit special. Unfortunately, by halfway through the near ten minute length of the number any direction and build up got lost and descended into some jazzy noodling that seemed a bit too unstructured even for the long grey haired child of the sixties in a ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’ t-shirt that is your scribe.
‘Zangief’ followed, and I held out a hope that there would be some sort of thematic change, maybe a harder edge in line with the game character, and maybe at the start that was the case, opening as it does with a riff heavier than anything that came before. Sadly, however, this rather quickly petered out as did my ability to be interested in the track as guitarist Tom Hasslan fired off a solo that whilst requiring remarkable dexterity just failed to grip me. Even the closing two minute Stylophone solo, or at least it sounded like one to my ears, just didn’t fire me up, rather made me think of TV commercials from my youth hosted by a disgraced Australian musician and cartoonist.
Next up is ‘Ken’, and I’ll admit I had to really concentrate to keep my attention on the music coming from my speakers, the opening bars sounding like they were the background muzak in an incense fogged crystal shop, just vaguely tickling around the edges of perception without disturbing too many neurons. I know somewhere in the middle it sped up before fading out again, but despite repeated listens, I really cannot find enough in the song to inspire me to do anything more to try and describe the music. The whole is rounded out by ‘Dhalsim’, and whilst I’d maybe thought there would be some hints and flavours from the sub-continent that the yogic warrior hailed from, I was sadly disappointed. A few guitar parts that sounded like they wanted to develop into a Rush of sound just briefly raised their heads before melting back into the general melange of sound.
I truly hate being so negative about an album where clearly each of the musicians is so technically proficient, but there was just something about ‘Soft Ffog’ that just didn’t sit right with me. Good Prog will have some sort of hook, or some sort of unique element that will draw in the listener, opening the door to the strange complex world of the genre, be it the angelic voice of a Jon Anderson, the guitar range and dexterity of a Steve Hackett, or the keyboard pomp of a Rick Wakeman. Sadly, that one extra element is missing for this band, and it took a real effort to listen to the album, and all too often I could only think of John Thomson in the fast show surrounded by smoke saying “Nice”. Maybe I’m not the target audience, but if it’s your thing, well, enjoy.
(5/10 Spenny)
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