Album Review: Naxatras, IV
At some point, there must have been a conversation. I don’t know Thessaloniki, Greece’s Naxatras personally — though they’ve always been very polite in my dealings with them, which counts for a lot in my book — but even if it was the most tentative, “Let’s try something different this time,” there’s no way that a record like IV follows a record like 2018’s III (review here) without a conscious acknowledgement of changing approach. Sure enough, as IV‘s reported storyline is, “A fantasy tale of bizarre landscapes and valiant quests. A saga of transformation,” this would seem to be at least a tacit recognition of the shift that’s taken place in Naxatras over the last few years — one is reminded of the old adage that any act of creation is ultimately telling the story of the creating itself, consciously or not.
And as Naxatras have evolved from the admirably organic, dedicated-to-improvisation jams of III, the prior 2017 single All the Stars Collide into a Single Ray (discussed here), 2016’s II (review here) and EP (discussed here), as well as their 2015 self-titled debut (discussed here), into the spirited and multifaceted progressive rock — classic and modern in kind — that has so clearly here been worked out from those same jams into the 10-song/51-minute entirety of IV, topped with Chris RW‘s likewise lush, fantasy-style cover art, the story in these songs is inevitably also their own. And indeed, it is one of change to such a degree that one can put on old and new Naxatras next to each other and not even realize it’s the same band.
This ambition on the part of the group — a four-piece here for the first time with the welcome addition of Pantelis Kargas on keys and synth alongside the returning trio of guitarist/vocalist John Delias, bassist/vocalist John Vagenas and drummer/percussionist Kostas Charizanis — is remarkable. And it’s not just about having keyboards or vocals for the first time. It extends to the very construction of the songs themselves, even instrumentals like the opener “Reflection (Birth)” later complemented by the more electrified “Reflection (Death & Rebirth)” and the swirling but plotted “Journey to Narahmon” — which has vocals, but no lyrics — and the fact that even the impressionistic, which is not to say vague, placement of the words in “Omega Madness” early on feels intentional.
The calm AOR-on-the-beach realization of “The Answer,” blatantly classic pop, and the accompanying three-minute psychedelic hints of “Ride with Time” are different from anything Naxatras have done before, and they manifest the patience of the band’s jammier past while pushing deeper to hone a present that sees the songs tie together in a full-album flow while serving their own purposes in atmosphere. The band have essentially taken tighter control of the aspects of their creativity they formerly seemed to take such delight in letting roam free while rolling tape to give their listeners as organic an experience as possible.
IV is inevitably defined by this departure. It can’t help but be. The dreamy Rhodes notes, percussion and mellow uptempo strum that emerges in “Radiant Stars” is hypnotic and comes coupled with the ultra-memorable “Horizon” — which is both among the most straightforward of the inclusions and the kind of song that might, if somehow conjured out of a ‘thin air’ jam, might drive a group to reevaluate their processes in the first place — as if to emphasize the point of Naxatras‘ ability to create the world in which this story takes place. Aided by the clear and full production of Nikos Logiotatidis at Magnanimous Recording Studio, who also helmed the admirable mix (Dave Collins mastered), Naxatras are able to present their turn as more than simply that; rather, it is a step forward from who they were and a bolder confrontation against what might be expected of them than more bands would be willing to make.
IV shares its willingness to be beautiful, to be unrestrained by considerations of needing to be weighted-down tonally, needing to be this or that, and needing to be anything other than what the band feels it needs to be, with what Naxatras have done before, but again, it’s the shape that takes that is distinguishing factor both from their past and from the bulk of progressive rock at large, heavy or otherwise. The long stretch of “The Battle of Crystal Fields,” which lays parts after each other in linear fashion and leaves the subsequent “Reflection (Death & Rebirth)” to tie that procession in with the rest of its surroundings — effectively, mind you; it works — feels every bit like the culmination it is because the band are wholly confident in their delivery. Like the best of anything, Naxatras get away with redefining themselves through IV simply by doing it and leaving no room for questions.
That said, Naxatras are of a profile as regards acts within European underground heavy and certainly among the top exports of Greece’s ever-admirable crop of bands that there will be those unable to follow them on this new path, if indeed that’s what IV represents over the longer term. Does that matter? Probably not to the band, who will see new heads at shows to replace those dropped out precisely as a result of these changes and the more accessible nature of their songwriting as it is here. They should, if they haven’t, find a venue in which to present IV in its entirety live with all the according instrumental shifts to carry them to the acoustic, semi-twanging roll of the epilogue closer “Shape of the Evening,” but however IV comes to stand in their catalog in the context of what they might do next, the fact remains that in listening, it feels like exactly what Naxatras want it to be.
And for a group of musicians to not only take that new path but to bring their intention to life with such an accomplishment of craft is a staggering achievement. It may be since Sweden’s Witchcraft modernized their once-vintage-style sound that a band has so readily charted a way forward from the trappings of microgenre, and whatever else IV does for Naxatras over the next few years — whatever their next conversation might lead to — their uncompromised vision has made them a less predictable unit with a scope beyond what was known from them before. That would be enough to call the record a triumph, even if the songs weren’t also so richly executed as they fortunately are.
