Tuesday, November 2, 2010



The Mystic

Sparklet Records

Pull up a truffula tree stump and imagine you are the Lorax visiting Doctor Seuss’ Whoville; the tri-fold CD cover artwork will help you. Perhaps you will run into Maurice Sendak and journey to where the wild things are. Climber arrives to serenade you along the way. The Mystic is perfectly acceptable pop music that for some inexplicable reason tickles my progressive rock bone. Yes, prog rock! It’s back in fashion and not just for renaissance fairs anymore. I haven’t had this much fun foreseeing the future since Rush’s far flung vision of 2112. Shades of the crimson king singing operatic yessongs, “We Are The New Man” brandishes a metallic edge like a 21st century schizoid man. After an interlude, a casio-tone syncopation breaks in that percolates happily along like the little coffee pot that could. We then dissolve into a grand piano epic before returning from our quest to a big homecoming. We’ll all feel like the captain of the Beatles’ yellow submarine, having survived an attack by a band of hungry Jawas before breaking out into a gigantic Ewok dance party. Flights of fancy are all well suited to the Halloween season, so let The Mystic be your guide. Be forewarned, his music is designed for headphones, not earbuds. Or, if you have a quadraphonic stereo (and who doesn’t?), lie dead center in the floor and dream on.

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