Discipline : Breadcrumbs
It seems age mellows all souls. Discipline, once the grand melodramatists of the American progressive rock revival of the late ’80s and early ’90s, on Breadcrumbs have come into a more sophisticated and less outré sensibility. This places them more akin to Happy the Man’s tight group compositions that drew the eye of a Peter Gabriel fresh from Genesis rather than the wolf-howl progressive rock dagger slashes of Van der Graaf Generator, whom they most obviously resembled before. Matthew Parmenter, singer and primary songwriter, clearly tilts his lyrical aim more toward the socialist political bent of their second record Push And Profit, especially on a cut like the 16-minute title track and opening song. Subtlety has never been Discipline’s strong suit; after all, this is the group that on the opening cut “Canto IV” on their now-beloved prog classic Unfold Like Staircase sung “How can there possibly be / No more room up there for me? / Here I am in limbo,” all delivered in a Gabriel-era Genesis dramatic wail. Still, between the reflective tone of this opening epic and the instrumentation, leaning more on repeating ostinatos of piano, guitar and organ rather than the near-musical drama levels of intensity of previous records, marks a more reflective mood than what someone who’s followed the band for quite some time might anticipate.
This mood is kept up throughout the record. “Keep the Change” and “When the Night Calls to Day” feel like Steely Dan gone somber while “Aloft” feels quite simply like Steely Dan themselves, especially around the Countdown to Ecstasy era. Closer “Aria” feels like something out of Trespass or Nursery Cryme, those early Genesis records before they even really broke through for the progressive rock crowd and hadn’t yet purchased King Crimson’s mellotron, the act which seemed to signify the shift in psychic tides toward their ascent. This mellowing places them in the company of fellow (if a great deal more established) prog legends Jethro Tull. That more established group has over the past four years dropped three records, The Zealot Gene, RökFlöte and Curious Ruminant, the latter of which is similarly worthy for our catch-up week here at Treble but for time. The mood of those albums has been one of a more inward character, not without the sense of drama of earlier days but feeling far more like an elder statesman reflecting quite philosophically not just on his own legacy but on a world that seems paradoxically incapable of change and mercurial at the same time. Discipline seem to be, to quote Jethro Tull, drinking from the same well, taking on a much less active-tense position in their musical dramaturgy than even their post-reunion material like To Shatter All Accord and Captives of the Wine Dark Sea. There is even a vocal melody in album closer “Aria” that is near note-perfect a match for “Darkness,” the opening track on Peter Gabriel’s mortality-focused record Up.
The shift from post-King Crimson sturm und drang to the sophisticated soft rock with cerebral arrangements of some of the less hip of the progressive rock world might be a counter-intuitive one to a specific kind of younger crowd eager to find music to impress their peers. But the comfort with laid back jazzy turns and big luscious chords from Parmenter on piano is a welcome shift, a color otherwise lacking from Discipline’s more bombastic earlier palette. Likewise the guitar, provided by Chris Herin, has a Steve Hackett sung quality to it, elaborating on George Harrison’s deeply melodic sensibilities with a particular ear for just the right blend of fuzz, clarity and sustain to feel very nearly like a violin merged with a human voice. Some of the particulars of the acoustic guitar arrangements, such as on “Keep the Change,” feels caught somewhere between the early work of America before soft rock rot absolutely ruined their ability to write compelling music and Neil Young at his most direct and unencumbered by his (admittedly wonderful) urge toward avant-garde fuckery. The same tune evolves in its middle to an instrumental workout caught between the poles of dramatic folk rock spiked with early Neil Young guitar heft with a dialed-down King Crimson groove. Compare this to the Aja-era sprightly piano figure driving “When the Night Calls to Day,” hiding in plain sight the odd-time groove that propels it, and it’s usage of subtlety to execute figures that wouldn’t be out of place on a Dream Theater record delivered with the reserved charisma of one of those brilliant backing bands featuring a young Tony Levin and Steve Gadd.
After five records, or eight if you count bandleader and primary songwriter Matthew Parmenter’s three solo records which are clearly musical kin to this work, it was easy to expect a bombastic new entry in their discography, which sings already with the flash and flair of a black metal or a goth rock group in different musical trappings. So what a wonderful surprise it is to be given a record that is a real challenge, so tuneful it feels almost like a trick, delivering compelling pieces in a different set of clothes.
Label: ProgRock.com Essentials
Year: 2025
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