After “dominating” the rock culture for about two or three good years in the early ’70s, progressive rock had rightfully, and for its own good, receded back into the shadows and stayed put. Nearly 45 years later the forgotten genre continues steadily on a rolling boil, maintaining its niche status among the throngs of rock geeks, budding musicians, fantasy/sci-fi fans, and other degenerate outliers of the greater music-listening population. A great compromise if you ask me! Progressive rock is bloated with garbage, but it’s the kind of garbage that people who are the target audience for that kind garbage will spend the time seeking out that kind of garbage because they enjoy that kind of garbage. God knows I’m guilty as hell about this. But, aggghhhhh, here’s the eternal problem!: once in a while something will be released in this niche-ass genre by a very unknown band from a part of the world known for releasing music in this niche-ass genre, that, tragically, deserves to be hoisted out of the shadows and into the spotlight…but never will just by virtue of its prog association.

Go ahead and read my reviews on the last two Major Parkinson albums in order to catch up on my feelings about the band’s unfortunate obscurity. Their third release, Twilight Cinema, is where it begins to start hurting a little. I can tell that the band is nowhere near slowing down as they currently work on their fifth album. Their fourth album was developed entirely upon donations by their loyal fans, of which I’m proud to consider myself a contributor. Very little backstory exists on Twilight Cinema, which I imagine was a similar low-budget fan-funded situation, but clearly this is a band that loves what they’re doing and are willing expend the effort to put out product with little monetary return. It makes it all more frustrating that Twilight Cinema, from beginning to end, is an incredible piece of music by anybody’s standards. The decade isn’t completely over and I will already confidently put it at the very top of my list of the best albums of the 2010s. No major music publications acknowledged it, because why should they? Virtually zero independent or minor music publications acknowledged it, because of the prog genre. As far as I’m concerned, this is Major Parkinson’s magnum opus. No one will ever know about this album, and that’s a sad fact.

The upside for me is that albums like these can be reviewed entirely from the gut, since no historical context or critical reception surrounding the album exists to impair my judgment! Allow me to begin by explaining why, exactly, this particular album deserves to be elevated above the vast, tepid bog of niche prog rock: 1) it avoids nearly all the worst pitfalls of overwrought prog while maintaining impeccable consistency, originality, and diversity, 2) it’s intellectually challenging without sacrificing mental or emotional accessibility, 3) it’s not overlong for fuck’s sake , and 4) it has a high replayability factor. In my travels it’s extremely rare to find modern progressive rock albums that hit all four points, and doggone it I’ll excuse it almost every time. Even Steven Wilson, the modern prog messiah himself, falters in nearly every instance (usually with #3, occasionally with #1). But to hit all four points effortlessly, or least with perceived effortlessness, that’s something special. No question about it.

The first track of Major Parkinson albums tend to feel like extended intros, and Twilight Cinema is no exception with “Skeleton Sangria”. Even at 2:50 it feels like a lead-in to the much more substantial and assertive “Impermanence”, especially since it’s easy to wave it off completely due to the immense strength of the next seven tracks. Hell, it’s my least favorite song here. Good to get it out of the way early. However, I have now been forced into actually, like, sitting down and critically listening to the song and evaluating it on its own merits. And you know what…yeah, ok, it’s good. I’ve come to appreciate the surprise of the happy-go-lucky (synthesized organ?) solo that pops in at the end after the rest of the acoustic and stripped-down cabaret waltz, but many other bands could (and do) base an entire album around this particular sound.

But the real star here is “Impermanence”, which actually sets the dark tone of the rest of the album in a way that renders the “Skeleton Sangria” intro POSITIVELY SUPERFLUOUS. Throw away “Skeleton Sangria”! “Impermanence” is an unbelievable display of everything good about progressive rock in four minutes and twenty-six seconds. They channel Porcupine Tree a bit here, to their favor. Atmospheric and skewing towards darkness, but with warmth dragging you down back down to earth thanks to the lush piano punctuating the driving beat. Crescendos and decrescendos are used to excellent effect, bringing tension to a head and providing satisfying release several times (yeah baby). The verse that starts with “Raindrops dripping from a parasol/Making bubbles to collect the blue skies…“, the one with several measures awash in low-range piano, the one that chillingly crescendos to the next verse, those are the best consecutive seconds of music in Major Parkinson’s entire discography. And it just keeps building, weaving in perfectly-balanced electronic Tangerine Dream-esque krautrock rhythms while Kollbotn gives a mellow, restrained, even beautiful vocal performance…and just when you think the song can’t possibly evolve further, the breathtaking coda starts chugging along with bongo-style drumming over acoustic strumming…and just when you think this sudden new melody can’t possibly evolve further, the breathtaking male/female vocal climax brings everything to the peak (yeah baby). I guess, in the end, you have to hear it, right? This song was my obsession in 2014 and I haven’t heard a track that has grabbed me quite the same way since. Merging talented rock performance with natural pop instincts will always win points in my book. Never the ‘twain shall meet for highfalutin prog snobs, but fuck those stuffed shirts. This track will make a believer out of anyone.

And then from this point forward the consistency is maintained. “Black River” is a rollicking, menacingly energetic song about…uh, I don’t know. You’ll need a thesaurus handy, but the lyrics are so abstract anyway that you might as well just enjoy the music and treat the vocals like another instrument (hmm…déjà vu…). You can pretend that the song is about pirates! It’s hard to listen to that chorus melody without picturing Captain Jack Sparrow sauntering up and down the Black Pearl – and see, that’s very close to the name of the song! I think the song is actually about a drowned woman, but I gleaned that only from the first two lines and the rest is just muckity muck anyway. “A Cabin in the Sky” is also menacingly energetic and a pure carnival horror show, so me likey! It’s a clever juxtaposition of schmaltzy waltzy old-timey three-ring circus music and modern big city…but still old-timey…illustrative lyrics (that I still can’t comprehend but the DO mention things like “bright lights on 42nd street” and convertible cars!). This is also Twilight Cinema‘s most infectious earworm and the in-your-face brashness of the horns during the chorus is fuckin’ cathartic. “A Cabin in the Sky” is surely a Top 40 hit in some twisted alternate clown dimension.

“Beaks of Benevola” is gorgeous and I believe that the band should really start employing more of the male/female vocal interplay. Oh wait, they will! On the next album! Excellent! The lush smoothness of the female voice (I can’t find any info on the vocalist; probably some Norwegian chick from Stjørdalshalsen!) works remarkably well with Kollbotn raspy, shitty, piece-of-shit, 1930s cabaret child-molestin’ voice, resulting in the first truly successful ballad the band has attempted (I love the noodly instrumental ending). The titular track “Twilight Cinem” wraps it up with a goofy and bouncy pop number that harkens back to the band’s earlier oddball material (“Epitaphs and pornographic literature!“). The final track also serves to unintentionally showcase just how different the first two albums could have sounded with crisper production. Let’s get some remasters going.

So I skipped “Heart Machine”, which is my second-favorite track behind “Impermanence”, only because it’s the most…underwhelming. More than any other song it sails under the radar because it’s not TOO weird or TOO different, but with its doom metal riffs and fast blast beat drumming (especially at the end) it’s undeniably the heaviest song on the album, at least part of it. The heaviness is tempered by some very pretty, ethereal piano passages and hushed vocals. My favorite bit is the instrumental bridge that starts with a tense, vibrating hum that follows with a piano breakdown into a bendy, echo-y, dreamlike guitar solo. These guys are good at tension-and-release! Yeah baby.

And I skipped “The Wheelbarrow” because, and I’ll fess up, it turns out that this album isn’t completely perfect. This one is the obligatory 8-minute epic suite right in the middle of the record, and it’s the closest they come to falling into the prog wankery trap. Freshness is kept throughout with some catchy melodic phrases and some repeated verses (“She can do anything/She can love everyone/Doing the same routine over and over“), and it wouldn’t be Major Parkinson without throwing in some gypsy accordion! But, other than that, being somewhat lengthy and inaccessible and, on the surface, similar to any other cookie-cutter 8-minute prog rock song released since 1969, this would be the most likely turnoff for the prog hater. Since I’m a prog lover I’m just going to end this paragraph with a hearty “fuck you, it’s good” and move on! Fuck you, it’s good.

Album of the Decade. Not much else to say.

VERY GOOD