I’m no music critic, despite a deeply critical streak. Let’s just say that I know what I hate, and what I hate is almost everything. It’s getting worse. Lately I find that a year or two will pass before I find something I really like. Sometimes I worry that my advanced age1 is tripping me up, and other times I settle on the idea that most cultural artifacts are simply not worth the amount of time that consuming them might require.
Squirrelwood is worth your time. The record bills itself—and others have billed it personally to me so, as well—as an instance of modern Prog Rock. There is most definitely to be found here the influence of 1970’s Prog, but it’s not a Prog which exists in the field of pastiche. There’s a very real earnestness. It’s bolstered by a breadth of influence and by a clear and communicative voice.
- I’m a ripe old 36, as of this writing; that’s not too old by any really productive standard, but it’s positively ancient in practical terms. Old people tend to calcify, and their musical tastes tend to reflect what they were “into” when they were 25. ↩