Psychotic Symphony

I heard ‘God Of The Sun’ at someone’s house on a Spotify playlist booming out of big speakers and said to myself, “Whoa, what’s this kick-ass Symphony X shit?” Then I looked and saw it was Sons Of Apollo and earmarked it as an album to check out next time I was in the mood for some classy progressive metal. That song is a massive cock tease, though, because 2017’s ‘Psychotic Symphony’ has one tune that sounds like that, and the rest is a mash of nu-metal clanging and hard rock crooning that sucks the big one considering the pedigree of the players involved.

There was a lot of expectation surrounding Mike Portnoy’s return to prog metal, but considering Dream Theater only started to get their shit back together and sound like their old selves on ‘A Dramatic Turn Of Events’ is because when they kicked Portnoy out, he took his nu-metal aspirations with him. Dream Theater made the same mistake Metallica did in the early 2000s trying to get with the hip kids by down-tuning their guitars and fucking around with nu-metal motifs. I eventually came to really like ‘Six Degrees Of Inner Turbulence’ but it shouldn’t take one hundred plays to enjoy an album. The thing is, with Dream Theater that shallow sound shift actually worked, because all of a sudden my friends who were listening to Trivium and Avenged Sevenfold were all wearing ‘Train Of Thought’ shirts. Portnoy was obviously miffed when he didn’t get the full time gig in Avenged Sevenfold as I’m sure playing in front of thousands of pretty young scene girls did a lot for his ego, but he kept this belief that what sounded ‘modern’ in metal was this clunky, detuned nu-metal style that marred latter day DT albums, and he’s brought that to supergroup Sons Of Apollo as well. Mate, nu-metal hasn’t been current and cool for about twenty years now. Remember that classic album you made in 1992? That’s what people want to hear you play, for fuck’s sake, not this hollow, clanging shit.

‘Psychotic Symphony’ is basically progressive hard rock with nu-metal riffing and a lot of showing off in the middle of the songs, and people got really wet over the idea of Portnoy working with Derek Sherinian again, but he was the weakest keyboard player Dream Theater ever had (Jordan Rudess is a knight, but Kevin Moore is king). Yet Derek brings most of the light to clunky tunes like ‘Signs Of The Time’, and his synth work here is generally pretty interesting and varied. Jeff Scott Soto was never my favourite singer with Malmsteen or TSO, but he sounds dreadful here. He goes about his business like he’s singing on a fucking Whitesnake album, crooning all this Bad Company hard rock shit that just rubs me up the wrong way. I know this guy can wail. I have ‘Marching Out’. But on this he sounds like David Coverdale taking a shit. And he throws these awful yelps in there from time to time that make me want to strangle the guy. He usually does this to signal a shift from a melodic chorus to a nu-metal ‘heavy part’. I don’t know why he does this. Michael Romeo’s 2018 solo album proved a lighter-sounding vocalist brings a much needed change from the usual raspy, Russell Allen style prog metal bands like this always employ. This whole thing is interchangeable with any modern day Symphony X or Dream Theater album, except for the unusual Middle Eastern strings that occasionally appear. Those actually make a tune like ‘God Of The Sun’ captivating and cool.

Usually, the most eye-rolling part of any prog metal album is when the musicians start wanking each other off with their instrumental prowess, but that’s the best part of ‘Psychotic Symphony’, because when they engage in fast complex guitar/keyboard runs, it’s the only time it doesn’t sound like Korn, Mudvayne, and Slipknot in a circle jerk. That’s probably why closer ‘Opus Maximus’ is the slickest cut apart from the opener, because it’s a ten-minute instrumental. Look, this obviously isn’t the worst record in the world. It was made by players who are skilled as fuck, and the production is excellent, but the groovy nu-metal riffing has to go, and Soto, go back and listen to what you sounded like with Malmsteen. Do more of that. You might be able to salvage a brilliant prog metal band out of it.

I wanted to give this album some time to resonate with me before I decided to sit down and review it because for me it was long-awaited and I've practically been listening to it since its release. The album is probably going to be most well-known for being Mike Portnoy's first full-fledged return to progressive metal. And what a return. It's been too long.

Musically, the album is very well-crafted, though not too incongruous for the genre. It really toes the line between Dream Theater-style progressive metal and sometimes what could even be considered power metal in the vein of countrymen Symphony X. There are enough dynamics here to please either camp. Singer Jeff Scott Soto, despite my unfamiliarity with much of his prior work, is no stranger to power metal, having done his time alongside Yngwie Malmsteen - and his vocals really shine here. Each bombastic chorus is punctuated by an emotional delivery and Jeff manages to lift each track clear above its instrumental stems.

Of course, it goes without saying that each musician in this group is of virtuosic ability in his own right. Mike Portnoy and Derek Sherinian are the masterminds behind the whole outfit and neither of them are pulling any punches on this release. It feels as though Portnoy is finally able to let loose again but never does it seem like he's overdoing it. But it's prog, so can one really overdo it?

Sherinian's analog sounds bring a certain je ne sais quoi to each track. He doesn't use the typical prog/power metal synth pads that oversaturate both genres and I think that's what makes for a more concerted feel. His playing is obviously top notch but his compositions are always, always interesting and I love his keyboard runs on the instrumentals; particularly Figaro's Whore - which in spite of its brevity doesn't feel like filler and leads very well into the next track. Bumblefoot's riffing is punchy and his solos on the fretless neck are a joy to listen to, as are the back-and-forth licks he plays in tandem with Sherinian. Billy Sheehan's bass playing is tight and he doesn't just follow the guitar, which is a big bonus. There are occasions like in Lost In Oblivion where he and Bumblefoot take off running and it's clear he can give as good as he gets when he's not holding down the low end.

The moods on this album are varied but it's overall very dramatic; complex; uncompromising. Lyrical themes aren't too mystifying but they're brash and aggressive and proud. Triumphant, even. The instrumental closer, the self-indulgent Opus Maximus, clocking in at 10 minutes 39 seconds, is a veritable prog metal odyssey.

There's an evident aura of grandeur surrounding this group and I think it's rightly deserved. I can think of a few ways they could go above and beyond with the next album, but until then I highly recommend any fans of progressive metal to give this release a thorough listen.