Back catalogue: Progressive Rock

Review: When keyboardist Thomas Jonsson, guitarist and bassist oMar Gudjonsson, saxophonist oSkar Gudjonsson and drummer Magnus Trygvason Eliassen take the stage, they channel the raw resilience of Northern Europe's islanders who have endured long, icy winters for centuries. Their energy transcends genres and has proven to captivate jazz enthusiasts, rock fans and ravers alike. This primal, non-verbal expression predates language yet remains deeply contemporary by blending cosmic vastness with free imagination and profound mysticism. Their music is a convergence of timeless human impulses and fresh creativity. It's challenging but hugely rewarding.

Review: After Dinner is like one of those molecular gastronomy adventures, where dishes are both playful and highly complex, not necessarily revealing themselves until the very end. Done with talk of food? Let's just say this is a loose art collective led by a composer called Haco, who were concerned with taking musical plurality and splicing disparate elements together to create a kind of friendly Frankenstein's monster of sound.

And friendly it definitely is. Considered a true one-off of Japanese pop-art rock-avant garde, Paradise of Replica is jaunty, it's amusing, it's beguiling and, ultimately, incredibly immersive. There are moments where the clash of pianos plucked straight from a comedy of manners opera and rough electric guitars (to give one example of the juxtapositions) feel rather strange, but it doesn't take too long for you to get sucked right into the centre of this insane sonic universe.

Review: Alphataurus may not mean that much to a lot of people, but for anyone aware of the Milanese progressive rock titans, the fact they have a new record out will capture the imagination. After all, the outfit have been making a big impact with every album they've put out since - and including - the staggeringly ambitious self-titled 1973 debut. However, it's been a decade since we last had anything from them. Enter 2084: Viaggio Nel Nulla, then, a collection of music that marks a real turning point for Alphataurus, with the lengthy (to put it mildly) recording process ending with the departure of founding guitarist Guido Wassermann. Whether die hard fans will think what's here is worth the pain of that decision to leave is anyone's guess, but this collection is unarguably dystopian, futuristic, exploratory, cosmic and, almost conversely, accessible and catchy.

Review: 7 Up is three things; a ubiquitous energy drink brand, an infamous TV show charting the upbringing and development of various children from the ages of seven upwards, and the third studio album by Ash Ra Tempel - their only collaborative piece with notorious psychologist and psychedelic drug advocate Timothy Leary. Supposedly, the sprawling psych-Moog album was named after a bottle of 7 Up that had been spiked with LSD was given to the band's lyricist Brian Barritt. This new version contains the original manuscript of the album's concept by Leary, as well as photos from the recording session in Bern.

Review: Ash Ra Tempel's fifth and - in most ways of judging it - final album was really also a swan song for the late, great Manuel Gottsching. Recoded at Studio Dierks, in the small, picturesque and windmill-happy German village of Stommeln by none other than Scorpions studio chief Dieter Dierks, there's a lot happening on Starring Rosi. And all of it really pretty damn good. It's funk, it's epic. It's moody, it's upbeat. It's steeped in an air of Krautrock and space rock, yet also wouldn't sound out of place providing the slap bass and guitar licks for a 1970s movie trailer. Simply put, it's Ash Ra Tempel, from the cosmic warmup and gradual build go 'Laughter Loving', through the folk-ish serenity of 'The Fairy Dance' and warbling, warped cacophonies on 'Schizo'.