Phideaux - Chupacabras

A chupacabras is a nasty beast. Imagine a chimpanzee with wings that attacks livestock with all its might in order to suck their blood down to the last drop, and with so much force that sometimes the organs are inhaled in the process. Phideaux’s album is nothing like this at all. On the contrary, the album from the New York musician offers a wonderful and progressive rock. And so to wring the neck one last time of those who still believe that progressive music is only reserved for backwards teenage intellects. Chupacabras is a multi-facetted album where each piece is a different color of the palette, which goes from hurling metal to the best baked progressive rock while passing by 80’s British pop and melancholy Nordic ballads. Why this diversity? Quite simply because this album is a collection of pieces composed over the course of the last fifteen years, but reworked for the occasion. Only the epic and eponymous 20 minute title track was specially composed. But it will toggle the senses as much as Supper’s Ready, Gates of Delirium, or Harvest of Souls (which I inevitably forgot) were able to do at the time. After a “Wolstenholme” intro, Chupacabras presents in seven tableaus an array of catchy melodies and majestic solos dominated by the piano, organ, and mellotron, where the tempo changes constantly. The vocals are essentially provided by Phideaux himself (a timber reminiscent of Steven Wilson), but a female voice comes in as well to enrich the ensemble. The artist, and moreover the player of almost all the instruments, has also called on flutes, the oboe, sax, and cello. Among “recent” productions, the similarity of climate and sophistication could be made with the British Seven Reizh. As a reference, there are worse. I’m not familiar with Phideaux’s first albums, but if they are of the same tone as Chupacabras, I think I’ll arrange for a tasting. We’ll keep you posted.