The 80s were hard for everyone, especially musicians. Among the many bands founded in the late 60s/early 70s, none were hit harder than the founders and leaders of the progressive (known by its followers as “prog”) rock movement. One by one, these bands succumbed to the musical trends and pressures present during the decade of acid washed jeans, cocaine and Reaganomics. Rush turned down the complex basslines and scattered (but always logical) drumming in favor of a new sound awash with synthesizer runs and simple rhythms. The theatricality and bombast present on such previous landmarks as 2112 and Moving Pictures was all but dead. Guitar legend and King Crimson leader Robert Fripp unearthed his band after a 7 year hiatus to write three albums that sounded nothing like the outfit’s 70s masterworks. Pink Floyd nearly imploded in on themselves after the departure of primary songwriter/bassist Roger Waters, releasing what is arguably their worst album, 1987’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason. Though these are just three of the bigger instances, the point is that, for the most part, progressive rock went the way of the Dodo for the latter part of the 20th Century. But around the dawn of the new millennium, something happened: prog became cool again.
It all started when alternative rock band Tool began citing previously mentioned luminaries King Crimson as a major influence. While it took the L.A. quartet nearly a decade to find a sound, they reached the pinnacle of their sonic experimentation with 2001’s Lateralus. Critics took notice of the band’s new sound, and quickly re-categorized the band, choosing the term progressive metal as a suitable description of the style (though bands like Dream Theater and Queensrÿche had created the genre in the beginning of the 90s by fusing thrash metal with progressive stylings). To prove their utmost respect for Crimson, Tool went so far as organize a small, nine date tour with the British legends in tow.
It wasn’t long until other predominantly heavy bands began claiming progressive rock as a major player in their sound. Underground metal legends Neurosis began revealing their reverence for Floyd in their increasingly lengthy passages and quiet/loud dynamics, creating an entire sub-genre in the process, and birthing other bands that could bring the heavy while not regressing into the average “knuckle-dragging meatheads,” to quote Isis frontman Aaron Turner in an interview with the International Herald Tribune.
This period saw albums such as Isis’ Panopticon, Neurosis’ A Sun that Never Sets and Mastodon’s breakthrough 2004 full-length, Leviathan, a concept album based around Moby-Dick. These albums began to change the face of heavy music for the better, forcing the genre’s evolution from its simpler, mainstream friendly phase in the 90s to a style now wrought with musical prowess and forward thinking songwriting. The new progressive movement was now in full swing.
But what about the bands that weren’t claiming Sabbath, Maiden and Priest as influences alongside Floyd, Crimson and Rush? British proggers Porcupine Tree began as a solo project when guitarist/vocalist/producer Steve Wilson grew frustrated with the nonexistence of experimental music in the 90s. After 1995’s The Sky Moves Sideways, however, Wilson’s project had grown larger than he had anticipated and he drafted permanent musicians to play on the album’s follow up, Signify. Porcupine Tree came to be hailed as the Pink Floyd of the nineties by fans and critics alike, and by the new millennium the band had blossomed into an act almost as influential and popular as the band they vied to emulate.
Perhaps more popular than Porcupine Tree is Southern California-based prog act The Mars Volta. Formed after the dissolution of seminal post-hardcore band At the Drive-In, The Mars Volta began as De Facto, with current vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala on drums and guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez playing bass. Increasingly influenced by progressive rock – and Bixler-Zavala and Rodriguez-Lopez’s frequent drug use – De Facto soon abandoned its dub reggae roots. With Rodriguez-Lopez’s switch to guitar and Bixler-Zavala changing to singing full time, the band rounded out their lineup and released the Tremulant EP as The Mars Volta in 2002. The next year, The Mars Volta released their debut on Universal Records, the sprawling, hour-long De-Loused in the Comatorium. This album saw Rodriguez-Lopez’s playing morphing into a hybrid of progressive rock phrasing a la Robert Fripp and jagged, often dissonant riffs reflecting the growing experimental metal movement in the underground. De-Loused has gone on to sell more than one million copies.
It is important to note that all of the new progressive bands discussed in this essay are still functioning, perhaps as a protest or challenge to their forefathers, whose constant lineup changes and tumultuous band relationships brought the end of what could have been existing legacies. Of the progressive rock progenitors of the 70s, Rush is the only one in working order, having recorded and toured with the same three musicians for more than 30 years and 18 albums. Such longevity and prolificacy is something most bands dream of. Whether the new school of progressive bands will last this long depends on the individuals’ own determination.
