One might not readily think that combining the genres of “protest music” and progressive rock would be a good fit. And perhaps in general they’re not: prog is more often than not about the music (rather than the lyrics), and the best protest music (Dylan, Phil Ochs et. al.) often concentrated on the words to the ultimate detriment of melody.

Guitarist Barry Cleveland tries to have it both ways on Hologramatron, and he largely succeeds. Ominous arrangements that betray hints of everyone from Robert Fripp to Tool to (even) the Residents abound on the disc, but they’re somehow presented in an accessible fashion. By no means radio-friendly (for whatever that would be worth in this era, anyway), Hologramatron is a treatise on narrow-minded politics, intolerance and the overarching influence of organized religion.

Staking a position not far removed from Roger Waters‘ “What God Wants,” many of the songs on Hologramatron feature the edgy vocals of Amy X Neuburg. Her approach combines a deftly-delivered torch-jazz style with a sung/spoken Lou Reed kind of delivery, and it’s quite effective. The band does their thing right behind her, and while there’s a lot going on, the rubbery fretless bass and big-kit drumming are the most noticeable common elements.

On the instrumental “You’ll Just Have to See it to Believe” Cleveland and his cohorts create a moody dreamscape. Subtle hints of Discipline-era King Crimson (specifically “The Sheltering Sky”) flavor the track. Cleveland plays the new Moog guitar.

“Warning” is a fitting title for the clattering, haunted house number that features menacing spoken word and what the liner notes call “chain link drums.”

In a disc filled with memorable, effective original songs (nearly all composed solely by Cleveland), the two covers nonetheless deserve special mention. Malvina Reynolds‘ classic 1962 folk-protest anti-nukes song “What Have They Done to the Rain” is reinvented here full of Spectorian grandeur. The song’s sweeping arrangement makes a serious song feel almost celebratory.

Joe Meek’s “Telstar” gets an almost dance-electronica treatment. Though the signature melodic line is delivered intact, the instrumental backing transforms the pre-British Invasion hit into a rave number. Amy X Neuburg turns in a vocal line that will evoke comparisons to the Star Trek theme. Which, come to think of it, may well have been influenced by the Joe Meek song to begin with.

“Dateless Oblivion & Divine Repose” closes out the album proper with a soundscape built around Cleveland’s playing of something called a GuitarViol, which the press kit describes as “a hybrid bowed instrument tuned like a guitar.”

Three remixes close out the album, and each reinvents the original enough to justify its inclusion on the disc.

Taken as a whole, Hologramatron is an effective collection/synthesis of folk-protest song, rhythmic/textural explorations, soundscapes and inventive reinterpretations of classic songs from half a century ago.

Icelandic quartet Blindfold offer up a subdued, dreamy mix on Faking Dreams, their first release. The opening track (”Falleg Depuro”, whatever that means) has an appealing verse structure, but waiting for the chorus that never comes is a little unsatisfying. Once conventional expectations are discarded, the album can be enjoyed for what it is. “Sad Face” track takes a more traditionalist song structure; pitter-pat drums and swelling strings convey a haunting vibe, a characteristic common to Faking Dreams‘ ten tracks. The song ebbs and flows; it’s cinematic-sounding music. The instrumental “Wait” is a highlight, despite the fact that it stakes out its musical territory in the first minute and never builds on it. That’s a characteristic to most of the tracks on this album, but the approach seems deliberate, not the result of a dearth of ideas. A sense of stasis, of glacial pace, is a central musical theme on the album. An exception is “Hungry Heat” which builds to a majestic crescendo, but it’s over too soon.

There are hints of Radiohead, but Blindfold isn’t aping someone else’s style; they have one all their own. The title track has a wobbly sense to it, not unlike a vinyl record with the center hole punched ever-so-slightly off center. “Caffeine and Sleeping Pills” features even more of that wobble; so much so, you might want to sit down (or lie down) when listening to it. That off-center, out-of-tune feeling pervades the album; slightly spooky tunes and drone-y instrumentation, often (but not always) fused to traditional, occasionally almost catchy melodies.

Midtempo dream pop? Sometimes. But just as often it leans toward the progressive side of things. Post-rock, shoegaze…yeah. The album closer “Reverse” drones on for six minutes, and then just when you think it’s going nowhere, the song kicks into high gear for about forty seconds. Then it fades into drones with lots of guitar squeals. Then it rocks out for the remainder of its nearly ten-minute running time. It’s easily the best, most interesting track on the album. More like it would be better.

The cover art is reasonably evocative of the music. Desolate, icy, remote, austere, a bit foreboding. And yet a sense of beauty pervades, hanging like a fog. The nearest corollary to Faking Dreams might be Radiohead’s Kid A. Add more melody, subtract some electronics, and you’re getting close. It’s not as good as Kid A but then most things aren’t.

Most American listeners (including this one) wouldn’t recognize an Icelandic accent if they heard one, and the vocals are sung in English by a character named Biggi. Beyond that, I got nuthin’. Look them up if you want to know more.

One of the most memorable lines in John Landis‘ film The Blues Brothers takes place when the band arrives at a roadhouse. Elwood Blues (Dan Aykroyd) asks the proprietress, “What kind of music do you usually have here?” She comes right back with her reply: “Oh, we got both kinds. We got country and western.” The punch line is funny, of course, because “we” (the non-C&W fans) “know” that country and western is one thing, that there’s no difference between the two.

And so it is with other forms as well. To non-aficionados, progressive rock, jam-band music, psychedelic…they’re all the same thing, pretty much. But within that world, adherents see and hear sharp divides between the styles. If I might engage in a bit of stereotyping, prog fans are often (but of course not exclusively) middle-aged white males who follow the intricacies of the music closely and ponderously. You might see them pump their fists and/or clap effusively at a song’s end, but they’ll stand as if their feet are nailed to the floor.

Jam band fans, of course, are another kettle of fish, and a patchouli-scented one at that. They absorb the music into their very beings, and express their joy and communal oneness with the band by closing their eyes, tilting their head heavenward, and spinning into (or while in) oblivion. They engage in what the Polyphonic Spree’s leader Tim DeLaughter told me he calls “noodle dancing.”

Rarely do the twain of prog fans and noodle dancers meet.

Doubtless this head-vs.-heart aesthetic is a simplification, but grains of truth remain. It takes a truly special sort of band to bridge the gap, to provide something musical and beyond that can satisfy, reach, speak to these disparate camps.

As I discovered a few days ago, Ozric Tentacles is such a band.

Lots more in this feature. Click to continue.

Have you ever found yourself listening to Electric Arguments, the 2009 album by The Fireman (also known as Paul McCartney and Youth), and said to yourself, “I wonder what it would have sounded like if George Harrison had gone a similar route”?

Yeah, me neither.

But if you were to ask such a question, the answer might be found through a listen to You Are Here, the debut album by thenewno2. That project is also a nom de rock for a duo, in this case drummer/programmer Oli Hecks and one Dhani Harrison. The music on You Are Here sounds a bit like Massive Attack, but with Dhani’s unnervingly-much-like-dad pipes out front. A winning sense of melody and upbeat arrangement keep this from falling into Radiohead territory; these guys do not have angst in their pants, so it would seem.

Highlights abound. “Give You Love” has plenty of dynamics, with a simple chord structure built around a Wurlitzer electric piano. The arrangement builds depth as the song develops. “Jokes on You” hits the ground running and features some rocking guitar from Dhani, who seems intent to develop his own style rather than ape Dad’s.”Life Off” sounds the most like something you might have heard on George’s albums (especially his final Brainwashed) but this is thoroughly original music.

Look, I’m a Beatles guy through and through. I bought Julian Lennon’s debut album when it came out. I have and enjoy Sean Lennon’s music (I interviewed him in 2006) and found him quite engaging in concert. I like a lot of Yoko Ono’s work (I interviewed her too) . So I’m one of those people who bought this on the strength of the Harrison name. But the fact that I”m on my tenth or more listen in five days shows that I like the music on its merits. In general a lot of techno/trip-hop leaves me cold (though I’m a big fan of Zero 7). But on their debut album, thenewno2 turn out thoroughly modern music that’s informed by more traditional rock styles. And that’s a good thing.

Recommended.

P.S. If you don’t know, the duo’s moniker thenewno2 is a sly reference to the best television show in the history of the medium, the 1969 summer replacement for The Jackie Gleason Show. I’m referring of course to Patrick McGoohan’s stunning The Prisoner.

Be Seeing You.