Artist: Shadow Gallery
Label: Inside Out Records
Release: 2009
Duration: 55:26
Rating: 4.5/5
The 6th studio album from, I’d say, prog metal veterans has seen the light of day, since going by their ID cards, Shadow Gallery belong to the generation of American bands that pushed the popularity of the genre up through the nineties, right alongside Dream Theater. Shadow Gallery walked their own path with far less fanfare than their much-hyped contemporaries Dream Theater, yet they outshone Dream Theater with an extra helping of brilliance and finesse in arranging their songs, something Dream Theater can mostly only dream about these days. Shadow Gallery albums have always been hard and slow to wait for, since they came out at 3-4 year intervals, and this time was no different. With “Digital Ghosts” a huge weight fell off the hearts of the band members and of all the devoted Shadow Gallery fans alike, which the following paragraph explains in more detail.
On top of that, the guys went through a bit of a crisis, as longtime singer Mike Baker left them through his sudden death, which makes the new album all the more important, a way for Shadow Gallery to show that they’re still kicking, that they’re still here. The unmistakable character of the late Baker’s voice is by no means an easy link to replace. Especially because of the very specifics that define Shadow Gallery’s music. With Baker’s “departure,” the atmosphere so typical of Shadow Gallery came under fire. Would the guys manage to carry all their core musical trademarks over to the new album even without Baker? His replacement is singer Brian Ashland. His voice has plenty of flexibility, just as Baker’s did. Not so much the flexibility of the throat muscles and vocal cords, but rather the ability to adapt the actual color shades of his vocal approach. You’ll be surprised by the most obvious thing: that Ashland reminds you of Geoff Tate (Queensryche) right from the first listen. Both in the punchier parts, where he has to show continuous power and build up the melody through bombastic vocal lines, and in the calmer parts, where his subtle side shines, delicately expressing melancholy, longing,… In short, the right man for the job. And you can quickly overlook the Queensryche resemblance, because this album is packed with factors that pull your attention away from it. Mostly thanks to the fact that Shadow Gallery again use their trademark harmonized, solemn multi-part vocal lines on the new album, which at times take over the role of lead vocal and whose melodies often (once again) flow tastefully into combined, compatible melodies.
“Digital Ghosts” is a softer, less angry and less direct album than “Room V” (2005) and much more accessible than the at times downright too experimental “Legacy” (2001). The energy captured on it is different from all the previous albums, and yet with “Digital Ghosts” it’s clear throughout that a real Shadow Gallery record is with us. Thanks to the turn toward a better balance between keyboard parts and guitar chopping, as well as the emphasis on clearly highlighted moments of calm, backed up by organic-sounding sound collages made with piano, it’s not hard to draw some atmospheric parallels with the band’s magnum opus, the album “Tyranny” (1998).
Shadow Gallery will once again remind you that they grew up and were forged listening to legendary icons of progressive rock like Kansas, Yes and, to a certain extent, even Pink Floyd and Queen (of the seventies). This is a band for whom the word sophistication is perfectly clear. Despite the undeniable fact that in Shadow Gallery’s case we’re talking about prog metal, their music says far more than what the range of a simple ear, tuned to catch frequencies, can hear or reach.
In Shadow Gallery’s case, this is above all another confirmation of the exceptional dialogue between keyboards and guitar, which work together in perfect mutual understanding and sensitivity, and are once again mighty, unique and instantly recognizable. Even on “Digital Ghosts,” these two elements aren’t necessarily pitted against each other in a crossfire of dizzying solos (Good morning, Dream Theater!). Instead they’re aimed at weaving moods of a lightly refined “theatrical” moment, with a sense of spontaneity and a touch of unpredictability, through clearly defined motifs in the instrumental parts of the songs (especially the intros and outros, where the “story” has to be atmospherically pumped up to a dramatic peak). This rainbow-colored conversation of motifs, with its many atmospheric twists, keeps providing tasteful color transitions, maintains a common thread throughout, keeps things easy to digest for the listener and (very importantly here) gives the songs compactness.
These bravura “plays” especially thrill all the “gourmet” listeners and the more demanding crowd. Even more so when you add the technically highly polished and optimally capitalized breaking of rhythmic turns that highlight the contrasting shades of the many motifs in these instrumental parts.
Still, we did say that Shadow Gallery are a compact band all the same. Even with only seven songs, thanks to all that rich dipping into many motifs, you never get the feeling that you’re listening to one single 55-minute song, which is an increasingly common thing with latter-day Dream Theater. Take the song Strong, for example: it has a basic rhythm with a guitar riff on top that’s easy to place among some European power metal bands, or “weirdos” like Manowar, and Ashland’s vocals are contrasted with a duet with guest singer Ralf Scheppers of Primal Fear. The latter of course wraps up his contribution with a sky-splitting, “Fear-style” scream that even a deaf listener would have trouble missing.
If the opener With Honour quickly convinces you, in its basic purpose, that the real Shadow Gallery are still with us, then the “Symphony-X-style” Venom is the sharpest and most direct song (with guest Clay Barton of Suspyre in a duet with bassist Cadden-James), which with its sharp, forward-driving riff then offers a sought-after paradise for lovers of the metal onslaught, where the neighing of Wehrkamp’s solos is also pushed more concretely to the front, along with the other typical prog metal elements (the outro!). The song Pain is an excellent choice that discharges the high voltage, the kind generated on the album by the “wrath of god” of Venom. The chorus of this song is the most melodically refined of all on the album, and the song carries (with properly made edit cuts and tailoring) the potential for release as a hit single. And once again Shaodow Gallery masterfully keep things compact. They saved the bravura soloing and the colorful, picturesque flow of motifs for the end of the song here too. Gold Dust brushes up against With Honour, and Ashland’s approach, especially here, calls for color parallels with the vocal approach of Geoff Tate.
It’s the title track that boasts the most captured parallels with “Tyranny” (1998). It’s a somewhat more sophisticated song, where the perfect coexistence of the building blocks of Shadow Gallery’s music comes through most beautifully on this album. In this song the gap between the totally calm parts and the sped-up ones is blurred especially well, so much so that you almost don’t notice it, unless of course you empirically focus on that element of the band. In this excellent composition Shadow Gallery owe a lot to the pioneering work of Kansas (keyboards) and old (seventies) Queen (vocal harmonies). And from the sixth minute to the end of the song, it’s not hard to hear the influence of Yes (even in how the closing choral lines are crafted).
Let’s stick with Yes. Haunted is a thrilling and surprising close to the album, because Shadow Gallery don’t serve up some headless intergalactic speed rally, as you’d expect for the ending, but instead emphasize even more deeply (compared to the title track) their sense for the sophisticated stringing together of the sound collages that build their music. After a good four minutes of dreamy weaving, the album spins into a closing tornado dance, through a complete drama of mood shifts that still keeps high listenability and an even distribution of the building blocks. The soloing is thus fully controlled and doesn’t “squander” the highly defined compactness of the motifs. The album carries the melancholic atmosphere of a closing that settles into complete calm.
“Digital Ghost” is an excellent Shadow Gallery album that gets right up alongside the one-of-a-kind “Tyranny” (1998). A multilayered yet clearly defined album. Melodically polished, with the band’s sense of walking a middle path preserved, between the bravura of the instrumental interplay of solo escapades (including the fullness of the keyboard-guitar dialogue) and firmly placed, clearly defined motif phrases. This combination keeps thrilling with its wit, high inspiration, unique recognizability and special moods, the kind only Shadow Gallery can claim as their own. A bone you gnaw on for a long time, and one that will presumably get through the test of time without any major hiccups. Time will show that when you, say, blow the dust off your copy of this CD in 30 years, “Digital Ghosts” will still ring in your ears fresh, inspired, exploratory, playful, fighting,… In short, it’s superbly polished in what it communicates, hard to compare with anything, and in the definition of Shadow Gallery’s musical expression, completely unique.
Fans, you’ll want to hunt down the special, limited-quantity edition of “Digital Ghosts” on store shelves, with an extra CD that adds four songs. Two of them were recorded with the late Mike Baker still on vocals.
Lineup
Brian Ashland – vocals
Gary Wehrkamp – guitar, keyboards, backing vocals
Brendt Allman – guitar, backing vocals
Carl Cadden-James – bass guitar, flute, vocals, backing vocals
Joe Nevolo – drums
GUEST MUSICIANS:
Ralf Scheepers – vocals (track no. 5)
Clay Barton – vocals (track no. 2)
Srdjan Brankovic – guitar (track no. 5)
Vivian Lalu – keyboards (track no. 4)
Production
Gary Wehrkamp
Track list
1. With Honor (9:59)
2. Venom (6:21)
3. Pain (6:22)
4. Gold Dust (6:45)
5. Strong (6:50)
6. Digital Ghost (9:37)
7. Haunted (9:36)
