Syd Arthur – On An On

Genre: Art Rock, Canterbury, Psychedelic, Jazz-Fusion

It’s a sign of a good band when they can’t possibly be described in one sentence. And, believe me, this is good.

Infact, trying to force Syd Arthur into an insufferable pit of classification is a reasonably challenging and fun game to play. Though I wouldn’t bother if I were you, because this, I guarantee, is near-unbeatable:

An organic, rootsy Tame Impala hitch a ride with The Meters to go see White Denim play in a field in the countryside, where Caravan are discussing their favourite Phish shows and Tomorrow Never Knows is playing in the background.

But there’s one very bright influence, glistening through the rest like a volcanic sun. Canterbury Prog.

It’s so unfair to pigeonhole a band as young as Syd Arthur into a scene they were never part of. It’s also lazy and frustratingly ill-researched to say that they’re merely a resurrection of Soft Machine (which many mainstream reviews have fallen into the trap of doing already.) But to understand the music this band are making, it’s probably best to also understand the music produced in the history of their hometown.

Circa ’67-’78, the Canterbury scene wasn’t so much a genre as it was an entire decade of crazy musicianship, over indulgence and schoolboy humour, all condensed into 40 minute vinyl treasure chests. The tiny quantity of musicians involved could be easily counted on both hands, but the amount of outstanding albums made from that select few would need multiple mutated octopus fingers to tally. Some were indebted to the liberated exploration of free-form jazz being released by Impulse Records in the 60s; Matching Mole, Hatfield & The North’s eponymous debut, Soft Machine’s Three, Henry Cow’s LegEnd. Others to the rise of psychedelia: Kevin Ayers’ Shooting At The Moon, Gong’s Camembert Electrique, Khan’s Space Shanty. It goes on.

Of course, none of these bands sounded much like each other, and to call a band “Canterbury” confirms only two things: a no boundaries attitude and a rare authenticity of overwhelming English-ness. Similarly, to attempt to describe the wonderful music from Syd Arthur’s On & On is also to dishearten it (let alone compare it to an outdated – though brilliant – entry to the history of music). Can you really compare a modern band to a “scene”, not a genre, which faded without trace once punk music took over and all but mutilated and disembowled the art of musicianship?

This is where Syd Arthur fit into being, completely unfortunately, wrongly categorized as a Canterbury band. They are, by all accounts, reminiscent of some of the music produced, certainly, but mostly they’re just a lethal combination of prog, jazz, psychedelic and folk music.

The name itself should tell a lot of the nature of the band, Siddhartha being the protagonist in Hermann Hesse’s spiritual novel set during the time of Buddha. Or maybe it’s the Syd, matching Syd Barrett. Or King Arthur, the man who alone defines the word “English.” But don’t fear if the thought of 20 minute keytar solos and silver capes scares you, no, On An On is a modern album. It’s deliciously retro, indeed, but its feet are planted firmly in the present in the way that, say, Sleepy Sun are. The sweeping string arrangements, the fuzzed-out guitar, the woody mandolin, the time signatures changing without warning. It’s as close to perfect as modern progressive music can get. To add anything would be to detract from what is such a mature vision beyond their youthful years.

The three standouts here serve the purpose as highlights only for the sake of having highlights, for the whole record is immaculate, and, to quote Almost Famous, incendiary. Incendiary. Dorothy is a dreamy, jazz-fueled haze; a recollection of sleepy, 2am moonlights and breathy sunrises. Eye-popping instrumental Night Shaped Light is three and a half minutes of psychedelic bliss. Ode To The Summer possesses a monster Funkadelic-like verse riff that makes dancing in 9/8 possible. Vocalist/guitarist Liam Magill has a soothing, effortless voice, comforting like Nick Drake, but restrained like Brendan Benson in a way that lets the band take the praise together (and there is a slight resemblance of Benson’s solo music outside The Raconteurs on the choruses of On An On). It’s not Robert Plant fronting Syd Arthur, but it works in much the same way that Tame Impala does; using the voice as a texture.

It also doesn’t hurt that they’re all stupidly accomplished musicians. Even the weakest track here, the disjointed and almost-awful Truth Seeker, is glued together by guitar chops more tasteful than a Mars Bar.

In terms of the UK, there’s enough here to satisfy both the Glastonbury crowd (that is, the mainstream magazines and indie festival-goers) and also appeal to the passionate, anti-cool prog fans who would otherwise be turned off by what is, ultimately, pop music.

But it’s thinking man’s pop music. Warped pop music. It’s technical, it’s savvy, it’s adventurous. And that’s why it’s so good.

It’s gorgeous.

Grab your sativa, On An On is mindblowing.

For fans of: Music. Everything.
Recommended Track: Dorothy

Released 3rd July