ProgPower Europe is the musical equivalent of a holiday in the sun. One thing that makes me particularly appreciative – maybe it doesn’t take a lot – is how orderly and organised it all is. I do realise that I’m not here to analyse models of business organisation, but the ease and smooth running of this event are something I very much like while in the midst of spending time with a throng of great people from all over Europe and more, and listening to a panoply of bands. Ah, the bands … I did my research and there were some I knew something about already, some who intrigued me and others who, shall we say, were going to need to be a pleasant surprise. It’s all a matter of taste and if you have 14 bands, then there are always going to be plenty of flavours.

One car journey, eight trains and a bus transfer after setting out, I arrived in time for the pre-party. Mercifully, in an avoidance of irony the act of the pre-party evening was not I Like Trains – do they still exist, the band that is, not the mode of transport which I can well and truly vouch for? Instead A Kew’s Tag had hopped over the border from Germany and had the job of treating an already well-oiled audience to their brand of acoustic and occasionally heavy prog metal. The drummer pumped out nice beats. The acoustic guitarist added sophistication with hints of jazz and the Mediterranean in the mix. A Kew’s Tag weren’t frightened to go long, which resulted in some mesmerising passages. Dreamy music of the night mixed with hard-edged rock, climactic passages and jazzy flamboyance. Some of it we could have done without, such as a symphonisised vocal solo, but overall the ideas were good and transmitted well.

That’s Maestrick, not Maastricht. The delights of the splendid Dutch city must wait for another day as this is the band from Brazil, and the official opener of ProgPower Europe 2024 to boot. I actually managed to miss the whole set of the last Brazilian band that I can remember here. I can’t even recall their name but it was in 2007 and I was on humanitarian duties helping a drunken German. My good friend Marcel from the lowlands bailed me out with a pithy summary of the band, so they didn’t go completely unrecognised. This time around I was actually present as there were no drunken Germans lying around, and so neither they nor I were in need of support. One of the many nice things about this event is the number of informed people with opinions. Anyway here are mine on Maestrick. Off they went with some power metal, crunchy and delivered at a nice pace. Visually Maestrick were pleasing on the eye. The singer didn’t just sing. He acted the part expressively. His world was theatre.

The instrumentalists including the burly “gentle giant” bass player wearing a graduate gown, were as one in creating a fizzing prog metal ambience. The songs were strong if meandering somewhat. “The Seed” contained 16 minutes, not 18 as the singer had jokingly threatened, of epic prog drama. It could have ended here for me as it all went a bit flat after that. The outward flamboyance was still there as were the technical excellence and the friendliness of the band, and so it was hard to put a finger on why this downturn was, or at least that’s how I perceived it. It may have been that the band was tired and went into auto pilot but I don’t think so. I think it was a combination of the style of the songs and the set list, whose mission now seemed to be designed to provide us with every angle of Maestrick’s repertoire, irrespective of balance. So we now got a bit of Brazilian flavour thrown in, a dollop of rock, and to finish “Ethereal”, a cheesy number. It’s a personal view but while I can see that finishing with an upbeat song might be a good idea, it belied the depth which I’d witnessed with great pleasure in the earlier part of the set. On the positive side, it was visible that being here meant a lot to these lovely guys, and this joy radiated into the audience. The presentation was slick, and it was great that Maestrick is a band whose members are passionate and willing to explore ideas and directions. And I guess that’s what progressive metal is about.

Pure Reason Revolution divide opinion. Well not mine as I didn’t have one, not really knowing about them even though they are from the UK. Prior to the event I could see there was a dreadful dichotomy amongst the Serious Brigade who between themselves and without anything that was actually going on in the real world had worked themselves up into a right lather about their perceived awfulness, while the rest of us came in with an open or at least neutral outlook. Smoothly and silkily Pure Reason Revolution got into their set. Sweeping post-rock clouds dreamily floated in front of us. The clouds became more frenzied and angrier. The band bowed and bobbed as a post rock band should. The songs shuffled along nicely with electronic waves and pulses, vocal harmonies and moments of heaviness. Without this the songs might have been plain but as it was I felt the presence of something.

There’s a nod to Pink Floyd here but without influence Pure Reason Revolution typically were creating a hypnotic, mystical air before giving over to heaviness. It wasn’t all milk and honey to my ears though. The title of “Bright Ambassadors of Morning” was repeated ad infinitum and rammed down our throat lest we forgot it. Not the easiest to roll off the tongue when singing along which I wasn’t tempted to do. Structurally Pure Reason Revolution did have a tendency to get stuck in a rut and I found myself wondering if their songs were ever going to move on. On they went with their brand of electronically tinged rock. “Music to relax to” was how one of my fellow concert goers described it to me later. The stage dynamic with this band was strange. At one point after previous breaks between songs of minimal or usually no communication the keyboard player made a speech in Dutch before inviting the lead band member to speak. The lead man wasn’t interested – not a good look in a live performance.

The taciturn one didn’t seem to see it in his job description as being necessary to be warm or friendly, so undermining the audience interaction. The heavy ballad “Bullitts Dominae” which followed was at least delivered with customary power. Our man of few words did trouble himself to spare a few of them to tell us that “Deus ex Machina” would take it up a level, which it duly did with its electro rock rap. He then pointlessly announced a sing-a-long to finish and dished out some largely ignored instructions. At least the song, which brought out the band’s inner Depeche Mode, was decent with its juddering energy. There was an encore but it was a rather dull affair and merely conveyed the idea that the band was going through the obligatory motions. This was a pity as this sullen band had shown before this point that when they felt like it their songs were capable of exuding a powerful force.

Part 2 

Review: Andrew Doherty

With photographic contributions from Conny Myrberg (www.artrock.se), Francesca Frosali and Jonathan Huizenga.