Magenta is a Welsh progressive rock band. They have been active since 1999, with Masters of Illusion being their 10th studio release (although the number of re-imagined releases, download-only releases and remixed re-releases is making it hard to know how to count). The band has always had a core of three members: the ever-present Christina Booth (vocals), Rob Reed (keyboards, mandolin, guitar), and Chris Fry (lead guitar), with several others having filled the other roles over the years.
Booth and Reed previously worked together in the pop band Cyan, but a desire to do something bigger, more musically involved and conceptual led them to form Magenta. They are inspired by 1970s prog acts like Renaissance, Genesis, Mike Oldfield, and Yes – with a touch of eclectic pop in the vein of Kate Bush and Björk. Magenta was originally just meant to be a side-project of one album, but the album became very popular and they were asked to play gigs. This led to a full-time situation that is still ongoing (side-projects notwithstanding).
Initially, Magenta displayed more of a modern prog band approach in their arrangements. Over the years they have shifted somewhat closer to a symphonic-retro prog, similar to bands like Transatlantic or Spock’s Beard – emulating the styles of prog from yesteryear with a modern twist. The new album steps solidly back towards that classic prog sound, after some more contemporary-sounding and straightforward releases.
Thematically most of their albums are conceptual, and they have some interesting and diverse topics in their back catalogue. Seven (2004) is about the seven deadly sins, and still one of their better albums. Home (2006) tells the story about a woman who emigrates from Liverpool in the early 1970s to “find herself” in the USA. The Twenty Seven Club (2013) is about all the rock artists who died prematurely at age 27. Their topics are diverse and always interesting. Magenta seem happy to delve into just about anything, as long as they find it inspiring.
This year sees the release of Masters of Illusion, which is a tribute to the old horror legends of the cinema. The six songs on the album each deal with one of the horror stars of yore, inspired by their personal life rather than the characters they portrayed. This makes for very fascinating and insightful subject matter, colouring the music and lyrics in intriguing ways.
The album is over 63 minutes long, which gives us an average song length of over ten and a half minutes. In reality the track times vary highly, and the fact that some tracks are significantly longer is definitely par for the course.
The subject matter had me very excited, and I was guilty of hoping/expecting the music to come at me full of horror themes and be overly gothic and dramatic, coloured by its subject matter. What I had to remind myself, to use an example: the first song is not about Dracula, it is about Bela Lugosi the man. The music on offer definitely fits the tale that is woven about his extraordinary and somewhat tragic life. This became clear with time. At first, the overriding feeling was that there was nothing new or extravagant on this album – that this was Magenta as I knew them. That was however an oversimplification. There is a lot to deconstruct and unpack on this album. While the album initially didn’t connect with me as strongly as I wanted it to, there was something about it that kept drawing me back. The album is full of wonderous themes that interweaves and reappears for effect, and once you start seeing how individual pieces play into the greater whole, the rewards are immense.
The first track Bela is the only one which mentions the name of its inspiration in the title. Starting with a musical intro that would be befitting one of Lugosi’s old movies – an emotional-sounding symphony with sweeping overtures of drama, complete with foreboding bells chiming – it then builds into a progressive track with highs and lows, reflecting the man’s life.
Body ageing, fame is fading
Options start to fall
Second billing, no more pitching
No one dares to call
I had it all, I had a ball
I wish my life would never end
Never end
A Gift From God revolves around Christopher Lee’s longing to be something more than an actor – more specifically, at one point he dreamed of being an opera singer. Lee did get to experience (and highly enjoy) life as a vocalist at the end of his life, making a symphonic metal album with Italian power metallers Rhapsody of Fire, and recording a heavy metal Christmas album.
On this song, his earlier musical aspirations are highlighted, reflected by the song opening with harp strings and oboe, and a strong overall symphonic arrangement. John Mitchell (from It Bites and Lonely Robot and several other prog projects) guests on this track, providing lovely harmony vocals to Booth’s soaring voice. Booth has a natural vibrato that comes out a lot – well, all the time – but this is how she sings and it is usually quite fitting. There are a few moments on this album where I feel it could have been used more sparingly; the harmonising with Mitchell being a prime example.
Reach For the Moon is an appropriate title for the actor known for depicting the Wolf Man – Lon Chaney Jr. Despite his achievements he struggled with feelings of living in the shadow of his father, also a legend in the industry and known as the man of a thousand faces. The father-son struggle plays out beautifully in this song, which has a lovely hook within the chorus. Booth sings “It’s cold in your shadow” over a brilliant piece, which is revisited at the end.
That is something this album does a lot. First the main hook is presented, the song moves over to new passages, only to return to the main hook later on. It’s a lovely use of themes and passages, displaying the great care that has gone into constructing these pieces.
Ingrid Pitt gets her own song in Snow, which starts with an interesting and quirky musical arrangement reminiscent of early-80s Kate Bush. (It’s likely not accidental as they are big fans – see them cover one of Kate’s early songs here).
The song develops into a fuller band arrangement yet retains its initial quality. It is the shortest track on the album, still going past six minutes. It offers something different than the overt prog arrangements found on the rest of the tracks, being more vocal- and piano-based with several lovely guitar leads for good measure.
We’re getting into epic territory on the last part of the album, which ends with the two longest tracks. First off, the band pays tribute to Peter Cushing on the twelve minute long The Rose. This is a grandiose track with several wonderfully layered keyboard tracks courtesy of Rob Reed. Booth once again shines, as she does throughout the album. Troy Donockley from Nightwish contributes a strong celtic vibe in the post-chorus sections with his Uilleann pipes, which I find myself wishing had a larger role elsewhere as well.
The final track, Masters of Illusion, is about Vincent Price. One of the true masters of the horror cinema, who sadly suffered from low self esteem, constantly questioning and doubting his abilities. This is the stand-out track on the album, and it is also quite the epic at sixteen and a half minutes. The song has a lot to take in, with several the many musical themes building up to a crescendo. Time flies as you listen to it.
The first two minutes builds the tension until the band break out with a sunburst chorus which simply shines. This is Magenta tapping back into their classic-prog toolbox, building a swirling song with dazzling musicianship, movements on top of (and within) other movements, and so many things happening that you can listen to this song over and over and keep noticing new things.
The band seem to be referencing their own heroes a bit on this track, with Reed and (in particular) Fry channelling Camel on this track. In particular, I hear a lot of Camel’s Snow Goose theme here. Take a listen to the keyboard parts that interchange with the smooth, crisp guitar. It’s directly out of Camel’s songbook, and I love those little Easter eggs.
The Masters of Illusion album is a grand achievement for Magenta. It is also without question a slow burn album. It isn’t the album you put on to introduce the band to someone who does not know them – the earlier, more direct ones are better designed to immediately display the talents on offer, while an album like this will yield immense rewards for the fans who know what they can expect and are likely to play it a few times.
I feel the album gets stronger as you get further into it. The first songs Bela and Reach For the Moon are solid tracks, but the best hooks and most interesting arrangements are found on the songs that follow, and no more so than on the final two tracks.
If you like your progressive rock ambitious, symphonic, competently performed, and with strong themes, this is an album you simply cannot afford to miss out on.
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