[Cover art by Jarek Kubicki]
Pop psychology has always moved big money with stories and strategies and tricks of the trade for keeping one’s chin up even through the most trying of times. Heck, some of the world’s most enduring aphorisms (‘Tis better to have loved and lost…) and metaphors (the glass is half full) are steeped in the idea that… well, the sun will come out tomorrow. But, if we’re being honest, nobody in the history of undying optimism said it better than ol’ Brian’s buddy up there on that cross.
For the majority of their 21 years, Poland’s Riverside has identified most closely with poor old downhearted Brian. (But, hey, don’t we all sometimes!) In fact, over the course of seven full length albums and an assortment of extras with live renditions and reinterpretations, this is a band whose brooding and melancholic progressive metal has come to symbolize emotional isolation and disconnect better than most in their sphere. Just look at the album covers and compare the music and moods within.
After the debut trilogy established the band as a force of prog’s emotional dark side by merging the creativity of Porcupine Tree with the deep atmospherics of Marillion, Anno Domini High Definition blew it all up, its desperate anxiety coursing through the melancholy like the river rips through the desert with overdue rain. Then Shrine of New Generation Slaves found a comfy groove in the grayness between emotions, Love, Fear and the Time Machine contemplated life with quiet skepticism, and Wasteland lamented death with the deep growl of grief.
The common thread has always been negative emotion, difficulty and strife, and the album art has conveyed that so well, but look up there again at the art for this newest album. It’s white and bright and the lines and shades convey a new energy, especially the active redness around the subject’s head. And look at those eyes. They’re glowing white, reflecting… what? We don’t know! But the album’s title gives us a big ol’ clue to the significance of that blank canvas stare: ID.Entity.
From the Riverside official website, referring to the new single, “Self-Aware”: “Has the dam of sorrow, darkness and mourning finally broken? Yes. With this song we are finally drawing the line and leaving all that in the past. We were already really tired of it. Fuck it. We don’t care what some will think, let’s do it, let’s have fun with it. What do we have to lose? Career? :))”
Immediately out of the gate this is a band focused on a new kind of energy, reaching out to its influences for inspiration and to great effect. In this lead single, Rush is the obvious reference but there’s so many more across the album from The Police, Pet Shop Boys, and Duran Duran to Tears for Fears and Talk Talk. What the hell is going on?! Against expectations based on Riverside’s long history, it’s stark, really, and disconcerting, but the kind of surprise that brings a smile to your face (unless you’re the recalcitrant sourpuss in your circle, in which case please take your rotten eggs to the far corner. We’ll be here savoring the sweetness of optimism. Don’t worry, we can still smell your stupid eggs; we know they’re real enough).
Sometimes when a band makes this kind of change (and especially when it references an era like the 80s), the change is made superficially and maybe only on a song or two. But the new feel here runs throughout the new album because ID.Entity isn’t referencing a decade or even its popular sound, at least not only. Rather (and this is so important), Riverside is referencing a feeling, and the sounds of the 80s happen to capture that feeling exceedingly well: energetic, light, bright, carefree, and fun.
Of course, the 80s weren’t that long ago so we remember they were also a time of hollow materialism and societal exclusivity and sometimes genuine ugliness and ID.Entity absolutely reflects those shades, as well, with knowing contemporary strokes. The overriding theme of the album is positive, and yet anything but a thin reproduction of bygone plastic happiness; rather, it’s focused on identity, individual and collective, and human beings’ everlasting struggle to know and understand themselves in relation to those around them. So, even in the wash of nostalgia and uplifting sounds, founders Mariusz Duda (vocals, bass) and Michał Łapaj (keyboards, Hammond organ) remember the sound of reality is heavy and exciting and sometimes uncomfortable. Relative newcomer Maciej Meller, brought into the fold after the sad passing of the band’s co-founder and wonderful guitarist Piotr Grudziński, brings a sharper edge and brighter energy to much of the heavier riffing.
Opening track, “Friend or Foe?,” feels absolutely brand new with shiny electronic keys and thrumming synth and guitar tones that reflect Rush’s headlong plunge into the 80s (Meller’s solo in “Self-Aware” is unabashed homage). Later synth sounds recall Pet Shop Boys and even Duda’s first few sung lines appear to be channeling some 80s pop/new wave band you know but just can’t quite remember. In fact, if you were to put this song on for an unaware Riverside fan, she wouldn’t begin to suspect until Duda sings at about two minutes and she still wouldn’t be sure until the song hits its second verse 30 seconds later. By that time it’s clearly Riverside, Duda’s voice more familiar again and Michał Łapaj’s keys and Hammond piping behind like the voice of an old friend. A mid-song bridge drops to lay a heavy riff and a later melodic lead from Meller drives it home: this is the Riverside you know and yet not. Like a loved one returned after years away; their face is familiar but there’s someone different behind those eyes.
“Big Tech Brother” suffers from a bit of cringe in the form of a mock PSA from faux AI, but it’s a familiar cheesiness that fans have come to know and appreciate as sincere nerdiness. And the remainder of the song is a clinic in heavy prog from a spirited synthesized big band intro in complex time to a layered and intersecting song structure and especially in the latter third where they stretch things out on the hooks of intense riffing from Meller in what we can only hope is a glimpse into Riverside’s future. It’s fresh and fiery and infectious the way ADHD was and similarly leaves the listener begging for more.
“The Place Where I Belong,” as the album’s centerpiece, is the best representation of the band’s transformation, and maybe the best reflection of where Riverside is at after a period of personal loss and late global disillusionment. The 13 minute epic composition courses through the band’s full career, from the modern Floydisms of the early work to the pensive melodic reflections of the later albums and even the swinging bluesiness of Shrines. Reflective, yes, but eminently intrepid in its introspection, the band willing – eager even – not to simply revisit their past but to reinterpret it honestly. The song’s capstone is its wonderful closing sequence, as fresh for Riverside as it is familiar to anyone who appreciates the roots of Progressive Rock and especially the seminal symphonic rock variations of Andy Latimer and Peter Bardens of Camel.
Last Rites staffers do a lot of chatting behind the scenes, asking a lot of dumb and very important questions about life and heavy metal and discussing them to sometimes absurd length. A recent query wondered about the boldest moves made by heavy metal bands over the years, whether it turned out well or honked dog shit. Most of our responses involved old school bands (Black Sabbath firing Ozzy, Celtic Frost’s Into The Pandemonium, etc.), which of course makes total sense, but this album by Riverside surely deserves to be in the discussion among modern bands. The shift in tone and texture represents no mere flight of fancy but an instance of real identity transformation as reflected so perfectly by (what I think are) Duda’s words up there; this is a group of renowned journeymen who’ve decided that, even in the serious business of prog metal, there’s real value in (also) looking on the bright side of life. That they manage the metamorphosis without losing the recognizable essence of Riverside speaks to the authenticity of their muse.
