[Album artwork by Lena Richter]
“Nostalgia is probably overrated, at least the most common notion of it, the poignant sense that ‘what was’ is somehow inherently better than ‘what is’. It’s a lie of which we are well aware, if we’re honest, and which we willingly allow. Logic says it can’t be true that all the best times preceded real and measurable progress, and yet we cling to the past. No tangible aspect of the past, though. What we yearn for is The Past. Nebulous, ephemeral. The particulars of those golden olden days for which we pine aren’t actually the point of nostalgia, after all. It’s the feeling. A deep and personal remembrance of goodness that serves as an anchor in an uncertain present. An apparently experience-based evidence that it can all be good again.”
That’s the opening paragraph that our very own Lone Watie used to open his 2019 write-up of In Another Time, the debut from NY hard rockers Tanith. I think he nailed it, and I will now admit to spending a solid amount of time thinking about how people that did not actually exist during a targeted nostalgic era end up tapping into its spirit so mightily. I suppose it’s because everyone is capable of imagining / conjuring ‘better times’, particularly amidst ‘harder times’, and our past is an easier target because the notion of comforting familiarity is a vital ingredient for nostalgia’s success. Plus, our collective obsession with nostalgia ensures that virtually every tangible aspect of any given era will never be forgotten. In other words, you can absolutely pull off being a 25 year-old Sweathog in 2026 and actually make it believable if you have the dedication and resources. Don’t get caught carving your initials into your desk.
Probably pretty clear where this is headed.
Trinity of Suns is essentially a love letter to that golden stretch on music’s timeline where hard rock very intuitively shifted into metal. That obviously includes the NWOBHM, but mostly that scene’s more fantastical face in lieu of the bands that hauled a heap of punk into the design. Accordingly, expect loads of aged metal riffs here, but also an equal emphasis placed on a myriad of ‘70s hard rock bands that understood the potency of mythical escapism and folk elements, and whose album artwork looked like covers torn from an array of classic 70s’ DAW Books. Bands like Uriah Heep, Wishbone Ash, Rush, BÖC, Sir Lord Baltimore, et al.
So, yes, clearly the members of Lynx have found themselves haunted by nostalgia, the world’s true ‘friendliest ghost’ (get in the trap, Casper, you absolute wanker), and the results produce a charming ‘modern throwback’ snapshot of a bin of estate sale LPs that once belonged to an individual the rest of the neighborhood likely assumed was a pensioned sorcerer. How does that separate Lynx from the near endless amount of other bands doing similarly in the modern age? Well, it doesn’t, really, but the whole of Trinity of Suns feels classic without sounding outright dusty in a dexterous sort of way that verifies the band is notably proficient at songwriting, which is clearly the key. So, instead of going missing amidst a gaggle of two-bit mimics, this album sets up Lynx as possible tour buddies alongside other throwback specialists such as Hällas, Phantom Spell and, as it happens, Tanith.
“Oppressive Season” delivers an ideal illustration of the band’s legitimacy. The track is a hot rocker that jumps from the gate with a slightly proggy proto-metal swagger that conjures the best years of Sweden’s Witchcraft, followed by a terrifically catchy NWOBHM riff about 30 seconds in that’s lifted to the sky on the wings of the accompanying melodic fret run. The chorus is as potent as it is catchy, and the majority of the song’s rear half is dominated by a series of super fun and highly enthusiastic lead barrages. New singer / synth player (synthist?) Amy Zine is a wonderful addition to the overall sound, which sets the stage perfectly for the following statement:
Trinity of Suns stands as one of the more significant advancements / progressions from one album to the next that these ears have heard in some time, and that’s coming from someone who enjoyed the band’s debut, 2021’s Watcher of Skies.
On the whole, though, I would confirm that Zine’s presence leaves the most blunt and impressionable fresh stamp, as hers is a voice with a much wider range that’s better suited for shifts in pace and temperament. So, when things push a more folky mood—the stark and psychedelic “Seven Days of Darkness,” for example—she nails the whole Wicker Man vibe. And when it’s time to really belt it out, she has the pipes necessary to fortify the classic metal riffing when things are at a full gallop.
While Zine’s presence behind the mic is justifiably underscored, vocal duties are actually shared with Janni, which only intensifies the Tanith comparisons. (This is a very good thing, mind you.) And as mentioned above, and further akin to Tanith, Lynx is down for mixing things up across the album’s full 40 minutes. We get a whiff of Hällas’ triumphant “Above the Continuum” with the notably epic “Voyager,” a song that opens Trinity of Suns with a gloomy, portentous midsection that features a booming voice cautioning of a world “once prosperous and thriving, now hardened into a frigid sphere of glass”; there’s the brighter, more playful romp of “Stranger In the Sky” that quickly brings classic Rush to mind; and you’ve got darker, moodier numbers like the title track, where a wonderful bubbling bass takes center stage to provide the crux of the song’s scoot:
If I could alter one thing—and it’s a minor quibble coming from the heart of a classic progressive hard rock nerd—it would be a suggestion to stretch out that closing track. Let Zine’s synth and some leads lift, drift and stray a bit more to really escalate the drama at the album’s conclusion. Of course, it’s also worth noting that the track already manages to run over 8 minutes, but it also feels… primed and ready for an even longer and more theatrical finish.
Just how essential an album like Trinity of Suns ends up being for you clearly swings on how heavily invested you happen to be in all things nostalgia. I mean, there’s not exactly a dearth of great works actually born in the late ‘70s / early ‘80s right at your fingertips, as well as a superabundance of worthy emulators already warring for attention. But again, if you have an affinity for the crème de la crème modern throwback specialists such as Hällas, Phantom Spell, Tanith, et al. that almost seem as if the ghost of nostalgia seeks them out due to a level of veritable legitimacy, I think Lynx and Trinity of Suns will find a notably cozy spot in the sunshine of your life.
