The age-old adage: what do you get when Genesis's Steve Hackett and Marillion's Steve Rothery cross proggy paths? Hopefully you haven't been asking that question too long, since The Roaring Waves is the first instance of the duo collaborating studio-wise. Yes, Rothery joined Hackett during the latter's 2013 concert at the Hammersmith Odeon, but this marks the premiere point of studio cooperation.
It's quite surprising that these two musicians, each with decades upon decades of expertise in adjacent fields, only released a project last Friday. Hackett's been silent since 2023's The Circus and the Nightwhale, and Rothery's last release, The Ghosts of Pripyat, is nine years Nightwhale's elder. Eight years in the making led up to this (which explains the dip in activity from the respective players), so it's about time some classic, guitar-driven prog came my way, and I'd never ignore an artistic couplet such as Hackett & Rothery, so follow me as we dive straight into The Roaring Waves.
It comes as no surprise, considering the kith and kin that are two progressive rock guitarists, that the record is purely instrumental. Think of it comfortably, rather than a full-throttle, blistering shredfest akin to some breakaway Dream Theater endeavor. The Steves rely on textural atmospherics instead of masturbatory showiness to craft the record's concept: the "profundity of the sea". Don't bend your legs and widen your feet just yet–the two artists bring the ocean to you. Whether they do so through a steady rocking pattern or electronic-laden passages is up to the natural course of Mother Nature's vast waterscapes. While the idea is intriguing, Hackett and Rothery only periodically conjure the nautical imagery exhibited on the album's cover. While the masterful duo trade winding, melancholic notes over shifting drum patterns (see "Sandsend," "The Black Sea") or simple ambience ("K-129"), there aren't enough sonic tinges to communicate such an expansive, oceanic environment. Little nods, like the natural sound effects in the opening track "The Storm," or the electronic pitter-patter sprinkled throughout The Roaring Waves' bulk of songs, rein me in from deeming the LP a standard instrumental release.
This brings up a talking point heavily debated within the rock and metal community. Are instrumental records boring? Intrinsically, they are, when considering the heaviness of the genre. Of course, ambient albums surely mustn't include lyrics, but should progressive rock? Plenty of classics, like Camel's The Snow Goose or Mike Oldfield's myriad of sprawling epics, benefit from the instrumental's activity. There's nothing stagnant about these examples, hence their cult fame. The Roaring Waves waits until the final song, "Pacific Coast Highway," to supply any rocking action, and even that doesn't honestly fit in with the sea-ness. The twangy rip from Hackett's harmonica and symphonic feel aren't choices I would've made to muster oceanic vibes, and for this excitement, I had to tread thirty-eight-or-so minutes of consoling yet unwavering waters. I didn't plunge to the depths of The Roaring Waves expecting a tsunami; more of a point break. Instead, my bark swayed gently, rendering the gumption I gathered unnecessary.
They can play their water pans and layer keyboard upon synth, but I want more from these illustrious talents. Granted, I wasn't a huge fan of Marillion (or neo-prog, actually), and Genesis fell off for me, along with everyone else, when the 80s pop wave decimated prog. Hackett helped the band navigate some of the finest recordings of the 70s; however, he should've administered a larger dose of his vintage spirit with his guitarmate. Dexterously, this collaboration fell short, but if you need forty-five minutes of simple backing tunes, you'll find these waves better fit for your boat.