c o n r a d

Rarely have I seen an album cover so evocative of the music. The sparse and melancholic glimpse of a winter forest suits the music perfectly. This album is dominated by the 22 minute opening track. It is notable for its scratchy cello, sparse arrangement and a pretty eight-note motif. The piece builds slowly and effectively towards a climax which breaks about halfway through for an anarchic trumpet solo. The denouement I find to be a little unsatisfactory, despite a nice trumpet solo, as it simply takes too long to fade out. The rest of the album is made up of two short but stunningly beautiful songs, the title track and a piece with a silly drum solo to close. Of these it is "Megalázottak és megszomorítottak" that stands out. The title means "The insulted and the injured", which is probably why it is the only track where genuine menace seems evident. It does not take long to build up to a frenetic pace, and there is genuine tension in parts, exacerbated by the angry honking of a car horn. For my part I would probably rate it as the best track on the album. Despite the fact that there are a few moments of this album that I don't enjoy, there is no doubt that this is a work of quality. The instrumentation is mostly classical, and their use is so effective that there is never felt the need for more electrification. This is a beautifully atmospheric album best suited for late evening playing. review by Conrad Leviston — 1-3-04 —

s t e v e

Megalázottak és megszomorítottak, released in 1992, is a unique album in the world of prog. The new listener quickly notices that the band is more classical in nature than rock, and consists of a pianist, cello player, trumpet player, bassist, and drummer. The music on this album is done in a post-minimalist style, featuring slow extended notes and relaxed attitudes. But the band isn't afraid to flirt with complexity (almost like some of John Adams' work) every once in a while. The musicians focus on creating beautiful atmospheres that are haunting, sometimes depressed, and dark. In fact, once in a while I'm reminded of Univers Zero, yet After Crying are less frantic. The first track, "A gadarai megszállott", is a 22-minute masterpiece. The first seven minutes feature slow, tension-building interplay between piano and cello. The drummer tends to lay low, and he usually taps out variations of the melodies on his cymbals. The vocal section that starts around the 8-minute mark really surprised me. My only experience previously with the Hungarian language in music came via my dad's Hungarian folk albums. I was actually expecting the vocals here to sound closer to vocals featured in Russian, German, and Romanian music. But, surprisingly, the singing on this album is actually closer to Italian. By that, I mean that the vocal melodies are very close to the ones found on Italian prog albums. And the singer tends to sing in a sad, reflective sort of way. Towards the end of that vocal section the band starts heading towards more aggressive territories. Yet, even at their most aggressive, the band sounds controlled and reserved. The pianist, at one point towards the last part of the piece, bursts out a Banco-like piano riff. At this point the trumpet is also noticeable. The trumpet style is minimalist, and usually involves only a few notes, but once in a while I also hear a bit of a Miles Davis influence. Now, if I had to point out a flaw, I would mention the climatic (or release) section of the composition. After building up tension for about 15 minutes, the ending isn't strong enough to resolve the piece (it's quite possible that the band meant for it to sound unresolved). The four other pieces that finish the CD are not as strong as the epic, but they're nothing to complain about either. Overall, this is one of the top 1990s prog CD that I've heard. review by Steve Hegede — undated —

s e a n

After Crying's second studio release from 1992 stands as perhaps their strongest single effort, flowing from beginning to end with a uniform mood of solemnity and sadness. The chamber influences in the band are seldom more prevalent than here, with lengthy cello-led sections. Piano, trumpet and sparse drumming are used to sound out martial beats building to crescendos of brief chaotic sound which fade back to quiet moments of reflection or finality. Infrequent vocals, in the Hungarian language, are delivered with poignancy. Although After Crying has a chamber-like sound, they share little in common with bands such as Univers Zero, playing a more melodic and less foreboding sound. While there is a Bartok influence present, it seems to go as much to the Hungarian indigenous music that would have influenced Bartok as to the composer himself. The title track also quotes Mussorgsky's Pictures of an Exhibition as arranged by Ravel. This album succeeds or fails depending on the extent to which one can get into the mood that is set. It is my personal favorite from their catalog, but also the one for which there may be the most mileage variance. review by Sean McFee — undated —

e r i c

Hauntingly beautiful music. The sparseness of the cover art (a winter scene with a few trees bathed in light blending into darkness) conveys the feel of the music contained within. The piano and cello create a slow brooding introduction to the album even before the vocals begin. The same feel runs through most of the 20+ minutes or so of the track, but it keeps my attention. The horns are effective in adding a wider palette of sound. The band makes use of space, as much of this is very atmospheric, and the fact that they don't feel the need to jam something in at every point is refreshing. This is a lost art in the days of 64 track studios, where producers and artists feel the need to put everything including the kitchen sink into a song. Though the band is strangely melodic, they also delve into some eclectic arranging of the horns and the cello. The vocals don't really bother me (though I do not love them either), but I much prefer the instrumental sections. The exception to that is the eerie vocals (both male and female) along with a string quartet arrangement in "A kis hõs". The title track is where the band livens things up; the feel of a James Bond theme meets King Crimson runs through my head as I listen. The cello playing really gets ripping, and that evil sound of the bow screaming across the strings sends shivers up the spine. Blend in various sections with church organ and horns, and this track proves to be the best of the bunch. The band may be too mellow for some, but the music has a charm and splendor, along with a dash of mystery. If your tastes ever delve into classical music this may also be of interest. review by Eric Porter — undated —

b r a n d o n

This is a beautiful album, simply put. Most of this beauty is found in the instrumentals rather than the vocals (somewhat the opposite of Föld és ég). The music is very engaging, with lots of cello and trumpet, which are used along with other classical and rock instruments to create a quiet, somber mood. The occasional vocals in Hungarian are sung in a very smooth male voice, and add to the music rather than detracting from it or competing with it. Some sections do sound a bit out of control at first listen, especially some of the wilder cello parts in the 22-minute first track, but after a few listens it all seems to fall into place perfectly. Said first track is absolutely spectacular, with lots of heart-wrenching cello playing and some touches of wistful trumpet; the closing theme is gorgeous, with its stately rolling piano, plodding bass, crisp percussion, and the trumpet rising delicately from the gloom. My sole complaint is with the title track, which kind of fades into oblivion after the first few action-packed minutes (as an interesting side note, in one part the trumpet plays a few bars ripped straight from Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition); I wish it ended with more of a bang. That said, for any fan of brooding classical rock, you can't get anything much better than this. This majestically somber album is an eventual must-get for all fans of this style. review by Brandon Wu — 11-8-99 —