Mother

In the best sense, Mother finds Xylouris White quietly questioning musical structure and expectations. They remain trailblazing outliers with a supernatural power to express themselves as one and, with a warmth and welcoming generosity of spirit, invite listeners to step up and out of their comfort zones.

While the album is integral to its predecessors as part of a loosely conceived and articulated musical trilogy, it stands on its own as an exercise in close listening, careful communication, and quiet revelation.

Their two earlier albums were remarkable for their blend of improvisation and energy, and the new set proves they are capable of treating elegant, thoughtful songs with an equal spirit of adventure.

It’s giving this record too much to say it’s truly transportative, that it takes me places, but points for trying.

Above all, it’s a joy to listen to, and one that inspires faith in modern rock music and its ability to evolve.

The result is an album of some musical accomplishment that offers so much but falls a little short. Three albums in but with plenty of niche source material still to mine and with some choice collaborators on board it’s a shame Xylouris White don’t push the prog boat out a little further or conversely strip it down quiet/loud. A big grower I suspect though, so put the champagne on ice and let’s see if Mother might creep into a few of the more high-brow year-so-far lists.

Taken as a whole, the three records tell a heterogeneous story in which past and future, myth and everyday life, fold into one another. It just so happens that ‘Mother’ isn’t the most satisfying of endings.