

Copy that sound and you betray the progressive ethos, stray too far and no one recognizes it as progressive rock anyway. For a genre that loudly defined itself as a new era for music, it ended up being closely associated with the specific sounds of its early progenitors.

But yet, ask any group of music lovers for their favorite albums and you’ll see the same 70s prog classics reappear. Why are there so many prog fans, but so few new breakout prog albums? Emulate the sound too closely and you’re ‘nu-prog’, a niche among niches, hidden to the undevoted. But still, the Genesis plug kept feeling more relevant as I listened. Course in Fable is not a progressive rock album. Second: this is obviously Walker being cheeky and wasn’t something I originally wanted to put too much weight on. I’m never touring again unless it’s opening for Genesis.” Ah ha!įirst off: hell yeah. This leaves one more important influence, given away by Ryley Walker’s provided artist biography: “I live in NYC. While there’s a seemingly straight trajectory between these two albums, the growth between them is best informed by the two instrumental albums he snuck in the three-year interim: Little Common Twist with jazz drummer Charles Rumback, which is an impressive tour of every texture and mood you can squeeze out of majority acoustic guitar and drums and Deep Fried Grandeur made from krautrock-flavored live jamming with Japanese psych-rock band Kikagaku Moyo (released only two months ago). His newest album, Course in Fable, showcases both, expanding on a sound familiar to anyone who heard his 2018 release Deafman Glance. Ryley Walker has deftly weaved together dual reputations as a singer/songwriter and prolifically-collaborating guitarist.
