Chileans S.E.T.I. are apparently a Subterra side-project, not that I've heard their parent band. Their second album, 2010's Discoveries, is solid modern neo-prog, love it or loathe it, influences including Marillion, IQ and various prog-metallers; amazingly, they've actually managed to rope Damian Wilson (Rick Wakeman, Threshold, Landmarq) in on guest vocals, although I couldn't tell you where. The album's material is pretty uninspired, if truth be told, veering towards Andrew Lloyd-Webber territory in places, when it isn't aping Dream Theater, which is simply not acceptable. I'm afraid to say that S.E.T.I. are saying absolutely nothing that hasn't previously been said, possibly with (slightly) more panache, by a host of modern neo-proggers and prog-metal merchants.
Claudio Momberg adds Mellotron samples to several tracks; strings kick in half way through lengthy opener A Draconian Tale, with more of the same on Ellipse and choirs on The Inner Outside, plus other possible bits, assuming it actually matters. I'm sorry I can't be more (or indeed, at all) enthusiastic about this album, but its blatant refusal to even remotely attempt to do anything not already done a thousand times before has defeated me. Unless you're a total neo-prog addict, don't bother. Really.
Chris Holmes' Sabalon Glitz were a Chicago-based psychedelic outfit with occasional Hawkwind influences on their sole album, Ufonic, at its best on Hawk-alike Time Traveller (UK spelling an' all), Hawks cover The Forge Of Vulcan and the trippy The Lonesome Death Of Elijah P. Woods. I'm not sure why anyone ever tried to claim that Holmes plays Chamberlin here; neither credited nor audible.
Sad Little Stars play exactly the kind of wetter-than-wet indie their name suggests on the plinky, skiffle-influenced The Stars Below. Brad Albetta plays samplotron flutes and strings on Singing The Summer Away.
Unbelievable Truth's Nigel Powell is the man behind Sad Song Co., whose self-deprecating Miseryguts sits in the little-occupied prog-end-of-indie ghetto (spot the Genesis (pseudo-?) ARP solo on Gulag Parenting). Best track? Directions, perhaps. Plenty of Mellotron sounds from Powell, with strings on Ghosts, Directions, You Get My Best and closer Chasing The High, choirs on The Everlasting Mile, a skronky string melody on Deep Cover, strings and choirs on Into The Hills and flutes on This Isn't What I Expected, all sampled.
You Can't Undo What's Already Undid almost defines turn-of-the-millennium indie in its tedious insistence on prioritising twee vocal melodies over any kind of musical progression whatsoever, typified by the likes of Rickett's Revenge, which chunters along for three minutes on one fucking chord. I have no idea why Esther Sprikkelman is credited with Mellotron.
Jamie Saft is a well-known session keyboardist on the New York circuit, having played with the likes of John Zorn and Japanese noiseniks Merzbow. It's difficult to tell how many solo albums Saft has released, or in how many styles; suffice to say, 2009's Black Shabbis (clearly a Jewish Black Sabbath) features a unique combination of grindingly slow metal, prog and several other styles, thrown together in an avant-garde stew that fans of Zorn may well go for. Best track? Hard to say with something this uncompromising, but his combination of influences possibly peak on Der Judenstein. Although Saft is credited with Mellotron, unless it provides the album's occasional vibes, it isn't readily apparent anywhere on the record, surprisingly.
The following year's A Bag of Shells is a collection of soundtrack pieces, as unsurprisingly varied as that suggests. Although there are echoes of Black Shabbis in its early tracks, the bulk of the material on offer here is more 'typically' soundtrackish, highlighting Saft's superb keyboard playing. One supposed Mellotron track this time, with what sound like sampled flutes on My Biggest Fear, although the album's occasional cello parts sound real. Saft's attempts to construct a 'Jewish heavy metal' on Black Shabbis aren't always convincing, but A Bag of Shells' soundtrack pieces work well. Worth hearing in places.
After listening to Rachael Sage's Public Record, I'm at a complete loss as to understand why I found its follow-up in the 'folk' section of a well-known London second-hand shop for 50p. Folk? Try 'rather dull generic modern female singer-songwriter' and you might be a little closer. It's not a bad album as such (haven't I said this somewhere else?), but it is a rather boring one, despite Ms. Sage's best songwriting efforts. As so often, I'm sure most of her energies went into the 'lyrics' bit, leaving the 'music' end of things in the 'completely generic' category, not helped by being over an hour long, which is at least fifteen minutes too much. It's not all bad, to be fair: better tracks include the blues/jazz of Ambitious and the swamp blues-influenced Someone Save Me/The Oil & The Water, while Chasing The Girl might just be the best lyric. Sage plays samplotron, with background flutes on Too Many Women, although all the cello parts appear to be real. The Blistering Sun..., is essentially, more of the same, perfectly acceptable within its genre, but doing nothing to step outside the restrictive bounds of modern singer-songwriterism. Sage on samplotron again, amongst other keyboards, with flutes on Older and Burning Witch, though not to any great effect, frankly.
Sahg are a new Norwegian stoner metal band - none of your church-burning nonsense here, these guys are influenced by old-school Black Sabbath, Saint Vitus et al. and more recent purveyors of all things distorted and metallic. While they don't refer to it as a side project per se, the members all play or have played in other leading bands including Gorgoroth and Enslaved. Sahg I actually does exactly what you'd expect, and does it bloody well; OK, so Olav's vocals sound a bit Ozzy at times, especially on the several occasions they're stuck through a Leslie, but this rocks in a pleasingly retro fashion, so no stupid 'death grunts', blastbeats or other crapulent modern metal tricks here, thank you very much. Best track? Maybe Soul Exile's Sabbra Cadabra-type feel, although nothing here had me reaching for the 'next' button. Samplotron from Brynjulv Guddal, I believe, with strings on several tracks, not least acoustic interlude Whisper Of Abaddon, used in the kind of way I wish more metal bands would do, rather than the crummy sampled strings to which most of the genre who use keys at all seem addicted. All in all, then, the kind of album old Sabs fans may well enjoy, without having to worry about suddenly being beaten over the head by a Celtic Frost-influenced section.
By the 2010s, Saint Etienne had become a rather part-time proposition, it seems, 2017's Home Counties being their first release in five years. Somewhere along the line, they've lost some of their whimsy, which, while disastrous for some outfits (think: XTC), has noticeably improved Saint Etienne. I'm not saying I like this very English album, you understand - perish the thought - but it isn't triggering Dark Thoughts in the way their earlier work does. I might even be able to name a couple of 'best tracks'. Here we go (does a couple of warm-up stretches): Something New, Whyteleafe and Train Drivers In Eyeliner. There, wasn't too hard, was it? Co-producers Carwyn Ellis and Shawn Lee play what I rather doubt is real Mellotron, with block flute chords on Something New and Unopened Fan Mail and strings on Dive.
Rebecca "St. James" Smallbone is an Australian Christian artist who moved to the States with her family in her late teens. After an initial album at the age of fourteen (!), Refresh My Heart, under the name Rebecca Jean, she released an eponymous record in '94, then God in '96, still not quite nineteen. Surprisingly, it's nowhere near as offensive as you might expect from a CCM release; musically, it's fairly rocky, with a good helping of Americana thrown into the mix, so if you don't listen to the (horrendously Godlike gloopy) lyrics, it just sounds like a fifth-rate Bonnie Raitt or something. I wouldn't go as far as recommending any tracks or anything, but I've heard an awful lot worse on the CCM front. Like Bebo Norman. He's fucking awful. Carl Marsh is credited with accordion and Mellotron, with (as far as I can hear) faint, sampled flutes on the opening title track, although Christ knows where else, if anywhere, they might be. Literally in this case.
St Johnny were based in New York, sounding like an unholy amalgam of indie and hard rock, which probably isn't a million miles away from the grunge scene with which their career was contemporaneous. 1995's Let it Come Down was the last of their three albums, not dissimilar in places to Mercury Rev, although the songwriting level's never going to trouble that outfit unduly. Given that production's handled by Dave Fridmann (Mercury Rev, Sparklehorse), notorious ('round these parts, anyway) for using samples up until a few years ago, not to mention the general murkiness of the Mellotron sounds on offer, it's almost certain that they're early, fairly crummy samples (possibly from eMu's horrible Vintage Keys module). Anyway, we get flutes on Just When I Had It Under Control, strings on Pin The Tail On The Donkey, Hey Teenager! and closer Salvation Arm, for what it's worth. Overall, I'm afraid this hasn't impressed me one bit; I don't think I've applied the phrase 'of its time' to anything this (relatively) recent before, but I have now.
Australian country blues-rock, for want of a better description, at its best on its most downbeat tracks, the mournful Bury Me Down and Black Monkey. Brendan McMahon's 'Mellotron' flutes on Rain Rain and strings on Black Monkey really aren't.
Annie "St Vincent" Clark, ex-member of The Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens' band, released her first solo album in 2007, following up with Actor two years later, a record apparently written in GarageBand on a Mac; may I say, it shows? The string arrangement on Marrow, amongst others, has that 'programmed' sound to it; in fact, the whole album sounds quite 'artificial', but that may be the effect she was after, I suppose. Her indie singer-songwriter sound isn't going to appeal to everyone (not least myself), although it's done perfectly well, best track probably being Black Rainbow, which builds up to a fairly intense peak. Clark plays Mellotron samples on several tracks, with choirs on opener The Strangers, Marrow, The Bed and Black Rainbow, plus flutes on the last-named and strings on The Party. Does GarageBand include Mellotron samples? No idea, but these don't sound much like the real thing. Perhaps she isn't bothered. Incidentally, 2014's St Vincent (**) sounds like it just might feature samplotron, but the resemblance isn't quite close enough to be sure.
Ohio's Saintseneca are often described as 'folk', in which case, all I can say after listening to their second album, 2014's Dark Arc, is 'indie folk'. Think: a folk ensemble who forgot how to play, ending up bashing out quarter-note downstrokes like any other half-arsed indie wasters, overlaid with Zac Little's loud, yet whiny voice. That isn't to say the album's a total waste of space; the brief !! is a lovely instrumental, while !!! is interestingly experimental. Er, is there a pattern forming here? Mike Mogis is credited with Mellotron on either Falling Off or Only The Young Die Good, depending on which you consider 'track 6' to be. However, given that there's nothing Mellotronic on either, I think we can safely consign this to 'samples', and there may it rot.
Motoi Sakuraba is one of the seemingly endless stream of amazing Japanese keyboard players, in this case, the one who drove Déjà Vu, also playing with Pazzo Fanfano di Musica and on the Kings' Boards album, amongst other projects. In the '90s, he turned to computer game soundtracks, making a name for himself producing proggy incidental music for onanistic fanboys games geeks to kill everything in sight to, nicely subverting the usual dance rhythmed rubbish.
A handful of these soundtracks have gained a commercial release, edited into listenable pieces, rather than the frequently-few-second-only snippets used in the actual games. 1996 brought Beyond the Beyond: Original Game Soundtrack (which it isn't, precisely), consisting of five lengthyish tracks, making up a perfectly decent prog album. Sakuraba uses loads of sampled Mellotron, but the samples are really poor, probably due to their being mid-'90s ones. The flutes occasionally sound like the real thing, but the strings and choirs are terrible, as are many of the other sounds, sadly. Then again, this is for game-players, not prog fans and it's a good few steps up from the usual drivel they're force-fed, so stop complaining.
Shining the Holy Ark, from later the same year, is quite brilliant; why is this music currently out of print? Sakuraba's produced a minor progressive classic here, largely unknown to Western audiences, only ever available as an import outside Japan. He really knows how to construct pieces in the grand tradition, retaining enough 'Japaneseness' to make them stand out from the pack. Apart from the occasional Emersonism, there's little to fault here, if only you could get hold of the damn' thing. Less sampled Mellotron this time round and seemingly slightly better samples; did a new sample set appear that year? Maybe Roland's.
Like many similar, Ecstatic comes across as powerpop informed by current indie, leading to a situation where every good track is slightly outweighed by one or two mediocre ones. Not bad, yet not that good, pretty obviously sampled 'Mellotron' strings on It's Only Life.
Salem Hill formed in 1991, playing that peculiarly '90s form of prog that isn't exactly 'neo', but isn't 'trad' either; think: vaguely like Echolyn or Spock's Beard, though those are only pointers. Not Everybody's Gold is their fifth album, apparently comparing well with their earlier material, generally being regarded as their best yet. As long as you don't approach it expecting a full-on '70s thing, you shouldn't be disappointed; the songs are reasonably good, though I occasionally wish they'd write slightly darker material. Michael Ayers' keys tend to be of the modern variety, which makes it surprising that he used a Mellotron on the album, although, given that it's clearly sampled, maybe less surprising. Why is it that artists of other genres make the effort to track down real Mellotrons/Chamberlins, but so many prog bands don't? It only appears on short melodic parts on The Last Enemy and The Hill Of Peace, anyway, so it's hardly the most major use ever. Not Everybody's Gold is a good album, just not actually a classic. The lengthy Sweet Hope Suite is the best track; it's just a pity they felt it necessary to make such a long album, when, with a bit of judicious editing, it could well've been more concise and better.
The Cato Salsa Experience are yet another in a long line of Scandinavian garage acts, all holding faithful to the sound of Young America, circa 1965. And they all do it well. Startling, isn't it? Cato "Salsa" Thomassen and pals formed the band in the late '90s, their second album, A Good Tip for a Good Time, appearing in different 'territories' (as they say) in 2001/02. Despite a total lack of originality, it would be churlish of me to mark this down on that front, as they do what they do with mucho enthusiasm and vim. It's sort of pointless to try to pick out individual tracks, as they all sound pretty much the same, although Time To Freak Out! is particularly deranged; a one-trick pony, but it's a good trick. Two of the band are credited with Mellotron: "Salsa" and drummer Jon "R. Lucar" Magne Riise (you may have gathered by now that the band are keen on pseudonyms, at least in the surname department). There isn't really that much to be heard, though, with nothing apparent apart from the sampled flutes on I Can Give You Anything, making you wonder why they needed two people to play it.
Kjartan Salvesen won Idol (Norway's equivalent of Pop Idol), making it absolutely no surprise that his eponymous debut album is full of the very worst kind of 'transcendent' millennial pop, at its least dreadful on Vegas. Utter garbage. Someone calling themselves Apache is credited with Mellotron on Once In A Lifetime, but the handful of vague, high string notes on the track sound little like the real deal, while the uncredited flutes on This Is What I Am really give the game away.
Samba (terrible name, especially in these days of Internet searchability) are no more or no less a German indie outfit, which tells you more about them than I ever wanted to know. 2004's Aus den Kolonien is possibly their fifth album, a thankfully brief trawl through various modern pop stylings, every bit as dull as you might expect. Andreas Bonkowski is credited with Mellotron on Sie Atmen Durch, although the nearest the album gets to it is the flutes on the following track, Gib Mir Karma!, although they still sound sampled. Please don't bother with this album.
Andy Samford is not only frontman for Telestrion and several previous outfits, but has also found time to record a largish clutch of solo material from the mid-'90s onward. Most of it doesn't concern us, but Andy has pointed me at four of his recent 'releases' (all available, absolutely gratis, from his website), all containing the same Mellotron samples as Telestrion's self-titled debut. Stylewise, unsurprisingly, Samford sticks to his main band's template in the main, that being psychedelic hard rock of the early '70s variety (there's any other variety?), Pink Floyd and Black Sabbath being obvious touchstones. 2010's Electrolight is a decent enough effort, highlights including the propulsive Demon Seed, the psychedelic In The Afternoon and the epic The Electric Yellow, although a little too much filler drags its overall rating down. Shedloads of samplotron, with strings and flutes on opener Illusions And Dreams/Wake Up and In The Afternoon, strings on Cleared To Land and Superdust and flutes and spectacularly murky choirs on Mello, amongst other usage.
The following year's Love & Magic is a 'double', or would be if you burnt it to CD, with a five-track 'bonus EP' to boot. While much of its contents are pretty much what you'd expect, exceptions include the gentle title track, the psychedelic Lost Sunshine and above all, the '70s soft soul/pop (!) of Make Love To You. Is this a step too far in your '70s worship, Andy? The album's (possibly unintentional) highlight, however, is the bonus EP's opening track, Jim Steinman/Bonnie Tyler's finest hour, Total Eclipse Of The Heart, played in the style of Hawkwind. Ludicrously magnificent. Samford adds samplotron strings to several tracks, notably opener There Is No Beginning, with choirs here and there an flutes on the title track, but overall, less so than on Electrolight. Samford's second and third (!) releases of 2011, In the Autumn of Forever and Lost in a Dream, are similar enough to review in one hit. In fact, going by previous releases, these two could easily make up one overlong disc, but are sensibly served up in two shorter (and more listenable) chunks, making for an easier listen (if not actually easy listening) all round. Highlights of the former include Sleep and Curtain Call, while energetic opener Nothing Left, the doomy Not Me Not You and closer The Last Dream Dies are possibly the latter's top tracks. Surprisingly little samplotron on both releases, although an extended choir chord is the first sound heard on the former (the strings on Curtain Call being the only other obvious use), with the choirs on I'm Lost In A Dream and strings on The Last Dream Dies being the latter's chief proponents.
2014's Outside of Time shows an impressive maturity in the songwriting department, particularly on The Girl Inside My Dream, the Neil Young-ish The Ninth Dimension and stomping closer One Final Thought I Forgot. Sensibly, Samford has retained the shorter format of his more recent releases, ensuring that the album's contents, already varied, refuse to outstay their welcome. Samplotron strings here and there, notably on opener Ancient Space Man and The Last Great Gasp, plus flutes on The Ninth Dimension. Given that you too can download these albums, absolutely FREE (from here), to your desktop, means that moaning because Love & Magic is too long and lacks cohesion is entirely churlish. None of these albums is top-notch all the way through, but they all contain a percentage of good material, certainly enough to make one killer compilation. Listening to them one after another gives the impression that Samford has learnt to moderate his sampled Mellotron usage; impressive though it is at first, subtlety is definitely the way to go.
Sammal are a young Finnish band who, against all the odds, insist on playing a style indistinguishable from organ-driven hard rock circa 1971. 2013's Sammal is an excellent slice of Finnish-language so-called stoner rock, although the five-piece clearly have a far better understanding of the era than most of their contemporaries, resulting in a collection of songs, as against excuses for downtuned, jammed-out idiocy. Top tracks? Possibly opener Puolikuu, Näennäiskäännäinen, Lehtipuiden Alle and closer Kylmää Usvaa, vaguely reminiscent of Aerosmith's Dream On, of all things, although nothing here lets the side down. Guitarist Jura Salmi plays what the band insist are Nord II Mellotron samples throughout Kylmää Usvaa, although I'm struggling to work out what they're meant to be. High-end cellos? Violas, even? Quite an effective sound, whatever it is, briefly replaced by a 'standard' string sound halfway through. A minor triumph, then, gentlemen; this might not feature enough genre tropes to keep your average stoner fan happy, but your intelligent approach might just allow you to outlive the bandwagon-jumpers. Worth hearing.
For the first two or three tracks of Working Without a Net, my chief thoughts were a) this is a country/blues parody and b) this guy can't sing. By the time the album was half over, I'd realised that a) it isn't and b) it doesn't matter. Unlike the highly-entertaining-but-not-very-authentic "Seasick" Steve Wold, "Delta" Joe Sanders appears to be the real deal; not that he grew up in a Mississippi shack - he didn't - but this seems to be what he's always played, a rough-hewn, down-home American music, at its best on Preachin' To No One, Say The Word and could-be-but-just-about-isn't-cheesy closer The Toast. Sam Shoup supposedly plays Mellotron, but the background strings on Say The Word really aren't.
Shockingly, it's taken Sanhedrin (in one form or another, named for a governing body in Hebraic history) over two decades from conception to debut, 2011's Ever After. I'd say the wait was worth it; a thoughtful, immaculately constructed instrumental album, if there's any justice (unlikely, sadly), this should garner the band international acclaim, slots on major festivals and sales aplenty. Unfortunately, it's more likely that a small number of enthusiasts will speak of it in hushed tones to little general interest. What's that? The music? Twisting, turning symphonic progressive, of the variety that takes a periodic sharp left turn to hold the listener's attention. Highlights include the suitably medieval tonalities of Dark Age, the vaguely psychedelic Timepiece and acoustic interlude Tema, but, although the album could be seen as slightly overlong, there's nothing here that would improve the album by its absence. Keys man Aviv Barness plays obviously sampled Mellotron strings and choirs on Il Tredici and strings on Sobriety and Steam, the overly-sustained notes on the latter giving the (already given) game away. It has to be said, though, that a bit of sampled Mellotron is neither here nor there on this excellent record, to the point where I'm not even sure why they bothered with it. Fans of eclectic, as against generic prog need to hear this. Immediately.
The Louisiana-based Santeria are, for want of a better description, a psychedelic Southern outfit, whose third album proper (ignoring 2000's early odds'n'sods collection Apocalypse, Louisiana), 2008's Year of the Knife, straddles the line between swamp rock, '70s hard rock, acoustic blues and Texan psych. The album's main plus point, though, is frontman/songwriter Dege Legg's songs, melodic without being cheesy, an approach from which so many American rock bands could learn. Best tracks? Possibly Leave Something Witchy, Nowhere To Go, with its killer main riff and the reggae-tinged Sold My Soul (For Nothing), making this a surprisingly good effort from a band that had previously passed under my radar. Rob Rushing supposedly plays Mellotron on the title track, whose instrumental section sounds a great deal like Pink Floyd's Welcome To The Machine, if you can imagine the melody line being played by a brass section. Anyway, a few seconds of something flutey near the beginning of the track seems to be all we get, quite certainly sampled.
Lucas Santtana (actually Santana) is a Brazilian musician, whose MO appears to be combining traditional Brazilian influences with electronica, at least going by 2014's Sobre Noites e Dias, which may or may not be his sixth album. It's certainly an original genre mash-up, at least to my knowledge, better examples including Montanha Russa Sentimental, the brass-driven Mariazinha Morena Clara and Funk Dos Bromânticos, which isn't actually a recommendation. Santtana's credited with Mellotron on Montanha Russa Sentimental, but, I can quite assure you, it's entirely inaudible, so, under my 2017 rule, into 'samples' it goes. This is actually perfectly good at what it does, even if I don't like it. Three stars.
Run-of-the-mill French-language folky pop/rock from Michel "Sarcloret" de Senarclens (a.k.a. Sarclo), at its best on the circus-esque La Main Sur Le Coeur... Simon Gerber plays MkII Melltoron 'moving strings' on Pauv' Naze De Riche, a sure sample giveaway if ever there were one.
Alexander "Sasha" Coe's Involver is one of a handful of various-artist albums on this site that are filed under the compiler's name; like most of the others, that's due to it being a 'DJ mix' effort, a concept unknown in the more conventional rock/pop world. Originally an acid house DJ in the late '80s, Sasha has, unlike some of his contemporaries, managed to keep abreast of current trends, giving him a twenty-plus-year career. However, from my probably deplorably old-school (note: not 'skool') approach, although it's more than 'a bloke playing records', it isn't that much more. But is the album any good? I dunno - do you like dance stuff? I don't - I'm sure it's great if you're off your tits in some club on the Balearic, but I'm not, so it all falls a little flat. As far as its presence here is concerned, James Lavelle of UNKLE supposedly adds some (real?) Mellotron to What Are You To Me?, but I'll be buggered if I can hear it. The upshot being, no, you don't need to hear this for any reason whatsoever.
Part-timers Satchel appear to be a cut-down version of Seattle scenesters Brad, the trio comprising three of that outfit's members, lacking only Jeremy Toback and Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard. Heartache & Honey is their third album and first for fourteen years, a fairly typical post-grunge effort, the noisier material tempered by more balladic stuff in a ratio of three-to-one, notably Old Spirit and Scold Me, which sounds not a little like Let It Be. Drummer Regan Hagar allegedly plays Mellotron on Might As Well Be Dead, with a brief, distant string part that could be just about anything, almost certainly sampled.
Saturday Looks Good to Me tend to be described as 'experimental indie'. They actually sound a bit like an indie take on '60s soul and '50s rock'n'roll, at least on All Your Summer Songs, which is probably unlikely to appeal to anyone who doesn't already subscribe to the indie aesthetic. Alcohol is the only track that caught my ear in any way, largely because it's the rockiest. Samplotron from Dave Shettler, with a really quite full-on string part in Ambulance, although the flutey thing on Typing sounds more like a badly-played recorder than Mellotron flutes. Fill Up the Room is much more generic indie than its predecessor and, frankly, bored the tits off me, to the point where trying to find any 'best tracks' is a bit of a waste of time. Fred Thomas allegedly plays Chamberlin, with an upfront string part on Edison Girls, most likely sampled.
Portugal's Saturnia fall into the same grey area as several other bands re. sample use: they've 'used' a real Mellotron, belonging to a friend and admit sampling it, but don't state explicitly whether or not they actually put the real thing onto their records. Their second album, 2001's The Glitter Odd, barely even sounds like they used it, but an online interview assures me the 'flutes are all Mellotron', so I have to assume they're simply very heavily effected. The album itself is a bit of a letdown, to be honest; a sort of psych/drone/prog/raga thing with some contemporary touches in the rhythm department that sounds like it should be better than it is. Plenty of early Floyd vocals and organ drones, plenty of sound FX and twirly synths and vaguely Porcupine Tree-esque atmospherics, although little actual substance, sadly. On the allegotron front, there are rather tuneless (sometimes completely out of key) flute warblings on several tracks, with the exception of a brief string part on (presumably) the 'Menadel' part of Ozimuth/Menadel. Hydrophonic Gardening is, essentially, more of the same; seriously, if you like The Glitter Odd, you'll like this and, of course, vice versa. There's actually less Mellotron (or whatever it is) than before, with merely flutes on Sunflower and strings on Planetarium and Omnia, the latter sounding particularly dodgy. Please could we have the truth about the Mellotron, chaps?
I don't know what The Satyrs are/were like on album, but this sounds like two different bands, Dying Away being a mournful piano ballad and One Philosophy being bog-standard Americana. Davis McCain plays vague samplotron strings on the 'A'.
Vibeke Saugestad's first solo release, Into the Shimmering, is one of those 'pleasant enough for a track or two' pop/rock albums whose charms, despite its relative brevity, quickly begin to pall. Better tracks include the amusing The DJ Inside and gentle closer Star Song, but it's an album aimed squarely at the charts. Saugestad plays obviously sampled Mellotron strings on The DJ Inside.
Savage Affair play various flavours of commercial hard rock on Actual Reality, from fairly mainstream (Was Love Meant To Be This Way), through heavier material (In Your Own Words, Approachable) to the more Americana-flavoured likes of The Hurting Poet and Dittoheads Unite. Despite Bo Brinck's Mellotron credit, the strings on opener Hats Off and strings and flutes on closer Over Anyway are sampled.
(The) Savage Rose are known to prog/psych fans as a rare Danish entry in the field from the early '70s, so it comes as quite a surprise to discover that they never split up, releasing albums on a regular basis throughout the subsequent three decades. However, although their website lists current tour dates, they've released no new material since the death of founder member Thomas Koppel in 2006, putting a question mark over their future as a creative entity. Their latest (last?) album, 2007's Universal Daughter, contains a mixture of soft rock and '70s psych (as against '60s), with soul and gospel influences apparent in the vocal arrangements, not least in Koppel's partner Annisette Hansen's throaty (tobacco-ravaged?) delivery. The album's best moments arrive courtesy of a handful of ripping solos from guitarist Staffan Astner, though, notably on the opening title track and what I take to be a rather belated band 'theme' song, closer Savage Rose (Take Me Higher). Palle Hjorth is credited with Mellotron on three tracks, although I wouldn't be at all surprised if it turned out to be fake. Anyway, all we get is the faintest of faint flutes on the title track and If, with nothing obvious on Malaya, so you're really not going to give this a go for its Mellotron content, are you? Good at what it does, but an album that isn't really aiming any higher than the band's mostly Scandinavian fanbase, I suspect.
Seven years on and 2014's Roots of the Wasteland drops any pretence of being psychedelic in any way, essentially being a kind of gospel/soul/blues effort. It opens with a strange white reggae number, The Joker, steadfastly refusing to pick things up from there. Hjorth and Frank Hasselstrøm are both credited with Mellotron, but the occasional vague string part is clearly nothing of the sort - to be honest, it barely even qualifies as Mellotron samples.
The no-doubt intentionally-misspelled Saville Row, formed in 2011, are a supergroup of sorts, featuring guitarist Marc Bonilla and other Californian luminaries. Their debut album, 2014's The Way Around it, kicks off well, with the quiet/loud of Between The Eyes, other better material including the funky hard rock of Insight and closer Last Goodbye. Sadly, however, the bulk of the album sits in the 'ballad rock' area, for want of a better term, in a bit of a 'heard it all before' kind of way. Bonilla is credited with Mellotron, but the background strings and flutes on Lying To Myself and combined choir and strings opening Everlasting Low, amongst other parts, are clearly sampled. There's a good band trying to fight their way out of this album; perhaps next time they'll let it.
True to their name, Saws explore the potential of the musical saw in the avant-rock realm, the end result being... variable. Fifteen or twenty minutes of this stuff might be interesting, but even a 'regular-length' album strikes me as rather too much. Rick Frystak has the good grace to credit himself with 'virtual Mellotron', although I'll be buggered if I can tell where it might be.
Texan Hadden Sayers' Supersonic almost defines the now-overused epithet 'classic rock'; its Stevie-Ray-Vaughan-meets-Bad-Company vibe placing it fairly and squarely around 1975. Except that, er, it hails from 2001. Nothing wrong with that, mind, as long as you're not actively looking for something contemporary. Songwise, opener Email Lover kicks off with the now-dated sound of a dial-up modem - will people eventually feel the same way about references to 'the telephone'? - Good Man reminds me of Tom Petty, the sitar-driven Blasted unsurprisingly features something of an Eastern feel, while Little Bit Of Love is more Bad Co. than anything, right down to its title (I actually had to check to make sure it wasn't a cover). Tony Harrell supposedly plays Mellotron, but it seems to be entirely inaudible, even on its obvious placement, Love Won't Let Me Go. Is it in there somewhere? Who knows? Anyway, one for those who worship the sound of a Strat through a Fender Twin and a Texan bluesman giving it all he's got, despite a lack of any obvious Mellotron.
Daron Malakian and John Dolmayan are half of the currently-on-hiatus System of a Down, Scars on Broadway being their on/off side-project. Their eponymous 2008 album has features in common with the parent band, not least the downtuned, riffy stuff, although there's a high concentration of relatively thoughtful material here, but then, given System's strong political stance, I really shouldn't be surprised. Better tracks include opener Serious, Kill Each Other/Live Forever and Chemicals, although the frequently witty, even insightful lyrics on most tracks carry some of the lesser tunes. Malakian allegedly plays Mellotron, with some near-dissonant chords at the beginning of Exploding/Reloading, a pump organ-esque flute part on Kill Each Other/Live Forever and strings on Babylon, Chemicals, Universe, 3005 and Cute Machines, although I remain unconvinced.
Or, what (most of) Deadwood Forest did next, the two bands sharing three members. Don't come here expecting anything like that outfit, though; Meet the Americant is a thoughtful pop/rock album, Brandon Louis Hancock's compositions dominating proceedings, at their best on kind-of title track Americant, Jack and My Negative, while the Queenalike guitar work on the hidden closing track nods towards Deadwood. Andy McWilliams and Ryan Guidry are credited with Mellotron, but the strings all over opener Americant and Western Fashion, strings and flutes on Rachel, flutes on It's Getting Nasty and cellos and suspiciously-speedily played flutes and strings on My Negative, amongst other use, fail to ring true. The same year's A Band of One's Own manages to be both more acoustic and more eclectic, although I'm not sure it works as well as their full-lengther. McWilliams plays samplotron strings on opener Emily and closer Messes Never Clean Themselves.
The Scene Aesthetic are the Seattle-based duo of Andrew de Torres (of Danger Radio, whoever they are) and Eric Bowley, who took a break in 2008 for the latter to travel to Argentina as a Mormon missionary. Does that tell you everything you need to know about them? Their third album, 2010's Brother (also issued with the companion Sister EP as Brother & Sister, predictably), is the blandest heap of dross to land on my desk since, well, the last album I reviewed actually, but it hasn't been a good day. Every song vies with every other to outdo its companions in the wet stakes, replete with insipid twin-lead vocals, lighter-than-helium melodies and offensive-in-their-inoffensiveness, happy-clappy (though not noticeably religiously so) backing tracks. Zac Rae allegedly plays Mellotron, with background flutes and strings on Humans and strings on Katy (Give Me A Shot), although all other strings appear to be real. Christ, this is nasty; each member of the duo, rather like their songs, compete to sound wetter and more fragile (and not in a good way) than each other. Vile.
The title of Scenic's The Acid Gospel Experience probably tells you more about where the band are coming from than their name. If I'm going to be brutally honest, these hour-plus albums of ambient whatever bore the crap out of me after a while; no doubt I'm not doing the right (or any) drugs. It seems to be good at what it does, but please don't ever make me listen to this again. Wrong generation, I think. Alleged Chamberlin from Robert Loveless and James Brenner, with strings on opener Year Of The Rat and occasional choirs and strings on (deep breath) A Journey Through The Outer Reaches Of Inner Space, the strings on Lightspeed and others carrying on long enough to give their sample origins away.
Nahuel Schajris "Noel Schajris" Rodríguez, ex-Sin Bandera, is actually Argentinian by birth, relocating to Mexico in the '90s. 2009's Uno No es Uno is his first solo album, mixing Latin balladry with more upbeat styles in a way that is unlikely to appeal to a Western rock audience. Like he cares. To absolutely no-one's surprise, Schajris' 'Mellotron' appears to be sampled, the attack portions of the notes being too long and regular. Anyway, we get strings and flutes on No Importa, flutes on bonus track Regresar and a reprise of No Importa's strings and flutes on the bonus Solo Noel version. Are you going to bother to hear it for yourself? Shouldn't think so, no.
Rocko Schamoni plays a form of German-language indie featuring a strong '60s influence on Rocko Schamoni & Little Machine, at its least tiresome on the jazzy You Can Have What's Left Of My Heart and The Silence Of The Snow. Jonas Landerschier plays blatantly sampled Mellotron strings and choirs on Leben Heißt Sterben Lernen, Weiter and Jugendliche (spot the bogus pitchbends), amongst others.
Graziella Schazad is a German English-language singer-songwriter, whose second album, 2010's Feel Who I am, is far less appalling than I'd been expecting, which isn't to say that it doesn't largely consist of mainstream fare; it does. Somehow, though, it mostly manages not to offend, although I feel the country material (Everybody, Miracle, Désolé) is a bit of a mistake. Top track? Probably her radical reworking of A-Ha's Take On Me, preserving all the song's elements while making it her own. Guy Chambers (Robbie Williams) plays background samplotron flutes on Miracle.
Luca Scherani is a sometime member of Finisterre and their offshoot Höstsonaten, as well as playing on Zuffanti & Heward's Merlin project, and has found time to record a solo album, Everyday's Life. It's an eclectic mix, going from 'straight' prog, through electro-tinged jazz (Anonimous) to an almost lounge feel on parts of the title track, not to mention a soundtracky feel on several tracks. Disconcertingly, it frequently switches styles within songs, but then, isn't that sort of experimentation what progressive rock should be about? Almost entirely instrumental, the only vocals (not to mention the only guitar solo on the former) are on Solo Chi Ha Sofferto and Soli, so don't panic; no terrible neo-prog singers here. Luca has generously not only sent me his album, but has owned up to using Mellotron samples, which he employs with considerable taste, rather than the usual 'do 'em to death' approach. Most tracks feature some strings, with the odd bit of choir; if it were real, it would probably get a TT to TT½ rating. So; I'm not saying that I like all of this album, but it's most professionally done, and some of the music will appeal to the Italian prog fan. Worthwhile.
Plasticsoul's Brandon Schott's Release starts well, with gentle opener Sunday A.M., other better material including One Man's Poison and Still Life, but the bulk of the album's too poppy for this reviewer's taste. Schott plays sampled Chamberlin flutes on Afterglow and possible strings on One Man's Poison. Four years on, Golden State is a far more subtle record although, sadly, less interesting. I'm not even sure why Schott gets a Chamby credit this time round; the something-or-other on Hourglass?
2015's Ponzo is Janne Schra's second album, although she had considerable success a decade earlier with Room Eleven. It sits somewhere between jazz, pop and indie, although the end result is more pleasing than that unpromising description might suggest. Not, you understand, that I'll be returning to this any time soon (read: at all), but it does what it does with vigour and skill, which immediately elevates it above the vast majority of current pop albums. Torre Florim and Jonathan Brown are variously credited with Mellotron, but, despite being credited on four tracks (Ship, Everything I Do Ooh Ooh, The Show and You Are Still New), it only turns up on the last-named, with obviously sampled low flutes and strings. Just to confuse the issue, the flutes also turn up, uncredited, on City. Who the hell wrote the sleeve credits?
Greg Schroeder plays pretty straightforward Americana on Schroeder, possibly at its best on gentle closers I'll Wait and Lullaby and at its most generic on Won't Do You Wrong's by-numbers rock'n'roll. Chad Stockslager's Mellotron? Inaudible.
Sébastien Schuller is a French singer-songwriter, working mainly in English, who's been involved in film soundtracks alongside his solo career. 2009's Evenfall is only his second full album in a decade, ignoring several EPs, an unfortunately typical-sounding modern effort within its genre, crossing over into that rather tedious 'transcendent indie' sound, only successfully translated onto record by Sigur Rós. Better tracks include opener Morning Mist and New York, but that isn't saying that much, I'm sorry to say. Schuller plays samplotron himself, with strings and inaudible choir on Balançoire, including a heavy pitchbend at the end of the song, background flutes on Awakening and maybe faint flutes on Battle.
Eva Ann-Ida "Idde" Schultz' Vad Man Gör (och Inte Gör) (What One Does (and Does Not)) kicks off with the propulsive powerpop of opener Hunger, after which, sadly, it slumps into a morass of mainstream pop/rock of the likes of Riktigt På Riktigt or Faller. Schultz and Dag Lundquist are credited with Mellotron, but the strings on Riktigt På Riktigt and complex flute part on the title track fail to ring true.
Klaus Schulze (Germany) see:
Although Schwarz are often lumped in with the modern psych/space-rock crowd, the overwhelming influence on their second album, Hard Listening (LOVE it when bands from non-English speaking countries pun in English!) is post-rock. Yup, this basically sounds like Mogwai with some psych/prog bits thrown in, not least the Theremin on Sun And Moon Vibrations, although Narcotic is definitely more late-'60s than late-'90s. Band leader Alfonso Schwarz, also known as Alfonso Alfonso (real surname unknown) seems to have a pretty coherent vision for his band, and as long as you accept said vision, you'll probably enjoy what they do. Sadly, I don't really get it, but it seems to be passably good at what it does (he said, grudgingly). María "Ma" Dolores González (and, reputedly, Alfonso himself) play 'Mellotron', although its veracity has to be considered suspect, to the point where I've put it in 'samples' until/if anyone proves it's real. Anyway, there's some rather murky flutes on Travels Without Moving and the same, low in the mix, on Outsider, only surfacing as the other instruments die away, although the flute runs at the end of Tsunami are presumably generic samples, as no-one's credited with a real one. A high string line on Through Your Eyes is trumped by the full-on strings in Moonsickness, but it all sounds a bit fake to my ears. Go on, prove me wrong.
The band released two discs in 2002, the Plays Christian Music EP and the Cheesy album, recorded at the same sessions but regarded as distinct releases. I don't believe there's anything Mellotronic on the EP, but the album sounds a lot like its predecessor, only for some reason it outstays its welcome even sooner, despite being shorter. It's not that it's a terrible record, just that (for me, at least) it goes on and on and on... The post-rock of opener Gasoline, the uptempo The Impossible Dream, the psych-out title track and the overlong Peppermint... Sorry, guys - I was bored. The 'Mellotron' sounds even less real this time round, with a distant string part on Peppermint, rather clunky flutes on Glad Of Being Sad and more flutes and strings on closer Say Goodbye With A Kiss. I think we're talking samples.
Patti Scialfa had been singing professionally for a while when she came to the attention of Bruce Springsteen, singing backup on his 1984 tour. By the end of the decade, they were associated personally as well as professionally, marrying in 1991. It won't come as any great surprise to hear that her second solo release, 2004's 23rd Street Lullaby, sounds quite a bit like one of hubby's albums, although her vocals make a huge difference to the feel of the record. Various NYC alumni play (John Medeski, Marc Ribot, Jane Scarpantoni), not to mention Nils Lofgren and The Boss himself (wonder if she calls him that at home?), adding to the 'substitute Bruce' effect; suffice to say, if you like his albums, you'll probably like this. Clifford Carter plays samplotron on the title track, with a nicely audible flute part, although I can't honestly say that it particularly enhances the track.
Ljudet av Tiden Som Går is a so-so acoustic singer-songwriter album, at its best on its sparsest material, notably Mellan En Far Och En Son and Bara En Drink Till, although too many tracks hit the 'boredom' button. Johan Lindström plays bogus background 'Mellotron' strings on Innan Min Sol Går Ner.
Nightcap World is a rather turgid, mainstream pop/rock album, at its least dull on Better Day and Rain, which isn't actually saying much. Peter Adams' 'Mellotron' is no more than the obviously sampled cellos on opener Cocoon and Come To Me.
Guitarist Steve Scorfina and keyboard player Tom Nickeson played in the legendary Pavlov's Dog in the mid-to-late '70s, teaming up again for 2009's Wag (ho ho), although recording actually began in the mid-'90s. Unfortunately, I have to report that the bulk of the album consists of rather undistinguished AOR/mainstream rock, with some especially tedious balladry in the middle of the record. Best tracks? Probably instrumental Pavlov's-esque opener Old Dog, New Trick (ho ho again) and closer You May Not Know, which has something of Fleetwood Mac's Albatross about it. Nickeson plays Mellotron samples on a couple of tracks, with strings on After Running and strings and flutes on closer You May Not Know, actually enhancing the latter, despite their inauthenticity. I can't really recommend this, sadly, but get to hear its two best tracks if you get the chance.
Chinese Whispers straddles the bridge between soul and singer-songwriter, groovy without descending into slush; not my personal bag, but of undeniable quality. Peter J. Sands is credited with Chamberlin; surely not the strings in Just For Us?
Soul on Soul is a pretty dull singer-songwriter/pop/rock effort, nothing even standing out enough to comment upon. Vidar Iveland Ersfjord is credited with Mellotron on Mother Of All, but the background flutes and upfront, uncredited ones on Desert Highway appear bogus.
Park Bench Theories starts off as a passable-enough singer-songwriter effort, but quickly descends into sentimental mush. Andreas Olsson plays fairly obvious samplotron strings on Changes and Two Men, as against the real strings elsewhere.
I'm sure it did seem like a good idea at the time, but this album is a dreary, US-indie-by-numbers effort, at its least bad on the rare occasions when Scout ramp the guitars up a little and stop sounding like a tenth-rate Velvets ripoff. Anita Bath's Mellotron credit? I have absolutely no idea.
It seems Scrote is a solo artist, not a band - amusingly, it's a word I'd hear during my adolescence in London, meaning 'miserable old sod'. Does Mr. Scrote know this? Is it relevant? Anyway, his Never Let the Little Man Down is an EP of grungy, low-fi indie, with no obvious redeeming features. Rob Shrock plays Chamberlin on She Goes Quickly, supposedly, with string and flute parts. I know the instrument's difficult to tell apart from samples, but I don't think so...
Charmingly-named German trio Scumbucket (frontman Kurt Ebelhäuser also plays in Blackmail) fit into the 'melodic yet fucking heavy' category, which is another way of saying that they're influenced by Nirvana. Their second album, 1998's Batuu, gets the requisite quiet parts in amongst the noisy ones, but all to relatively little effect, I'm afraid. A few tracks of this stuff is genuinely exciting; a whole album is just dull. Someone (Ebelhäuser?) adds Mellotron samples to a few tracks, with strings on Spot Parts, slow, interweaving flutes on Atomic Gun and strings all over elegiac closer Wimp. I can't honestly say that I'm too keen on this stuff, but it clearly has its audience. No real Mellotron, though.
I'm not exactly au fait with The Sea & Cake's previous albums, but I'm told The Fawn is the one where the 'electronica' started to take over. It's certainly fairly heavily-laden with sampled beats and suchlike, although the band rarely forget the importance of melody, making this a pleasant enough listen, even if the style isn't up your street. There are no specific credits, but due to his Mellotron use elsewhere (including several solo albums), I suspect Archer Prewitt is the man responsible for the album's alleged tape-replay work. We get airy flutes on Sporting Life and There You Are, background strings on The Argument and both, quite upfront, on Bird And Flag, plus background choirs on Black Tree In The Bee Yard, leaving Do Now Fairly Well as probably the album's major samplotron track, with a melodic string part slotting in perfectly with its melancholy feel.
Sea Goat, fronted by Torsten Hartmann, formed in 1973, named for one of the more whimsical tracks from Pete Sinfield's Still. For doubtless all the usual reasons, they failed to record at the time, reforming several decades later to finally capture their sound onto (virtual) tape, the end result being Tata, named for the small Hungarian village where they recorded. This is progressive rock in song format, none of its ten tracks as long as seven minutes, at its best on opener Book Of Liberty, the (relatively) heavy Fire Wheels and beautiful acoustic guitar piece Cloud, although, to be brutally honest, it slacks off a little towards the end. Matthias Wolfgarten plays samplotron strings on Book Of Liberty and Fire Wheels, the latter alongside Klaus Schulz. No, you fool, not that one.
I originally described The Seahorses as, "more Britpop detritus, rising like a rather shabby phoenix from the ashes of the overrated Stone Roses" (John Squire's first major band, with whom The Seahorses are frequently compared), but after a couple of listens I can confidently state that they're actually rather better than that, being more concise than their forbears, albeit less trippy and iconic. They only made one album, Do it Yourself, although apparently a follow-up was recorded, but languishes in the vaults somewhere. Anyway, opener I Want You To Know has a Hendrixy vibe about it, the album carrying on in a largely '60s-ish vein, the other obvious highlight being The Boy In The Picture. Legendary producer Tony Visconti (Bowie etc.) is credited with 'Mellotron/tambura/Theremin' and, indeed, the latter can be clearly heard on I Want You To Know, but given Visconti's comment that 'the only good Mellotron is a sampled Mellotron', the strings on I Want You To Know have to be considered suspect.
Seal (Henry Olusegun Olumide Adeola Samuel) hit the peak of his popularity in the early '90s, although he's actually released more music recently than at the time. Sadly (yet inevitably), his fabulous voice tends to be added to mainstream pop/dance stuff, 2007's System being no exception, its disappointingly generic dance production presumably designed to appeal to the sector of his gently ageing fanbase who still wish to appear 'hip' without actually having to listen to any new artists. Is that a bit harsh? Sorry, but does the world need another dance/pop record? I think not. The album does have its moments, notably Dumb (unfortunately ruined by its ubiquitous programmed beats) and Rolling. Bill Bottrell plays a rather distant samplotron string part on Just Like Before. Seal's voice would sound fantastic doing almost anything, so how's about a subtler, more acoustic album of the kind of heartfelt stuff he does so well? It could still be loosely classified as 'soul', just without all the programmed nonsense. Go on, you know you want to... Oh, and for what it's worth, great sleeve; if only more artists would take artistic risks with their covers.
Irish reggae, anyone? Egyptian, maybe... This isn't even Police-style white reggae, just a rather faceless, generic variety. Despite online references to Mellotron use on Liberation, with nobody even credited, it's hardly surprising that there's none to be heard.
Seaweed's career is both boundaried and defined by the '90s; playing a punky version of grunge clearly seemed like a good idea at the time, although history is unlikely to be overly kind to their fourth album, 1995's Spanaway. In fairness, it isn't terrible, but nor is it even remotely memorable; I mean, I managed to forget most of its songs while they were playing, which isn't a good sign. Vocalist Aaron Stauffer supposedly plays Mellotron, but if the squally strings on Saturday Nitrous are supposed to be a real machine... I've heard an awful lot worse albums than this, but that's only because I've heard some utter, utter shite. Dull and pointless. No wonder they split up.
Knud "Sebastian" Christensen has, to date, had a near-fifty-year career, 1975's Gøgleren, Anton og de Andre being his fifth release. It's a thoroughly mainstream, mid-'70s, Danish-language pop/rock album, at its least tedious on La Dolche Vita. Sebastian is credited with Mellotron on Venedig, to which I can only say... cobblers. Vague synth strings doth not a Mellotron make.
After hearing Guy Sebastian's fifth album, 2009's Like it Like That, it should come as no surprise to discover that he was the first winner of Australian Idol, back in 2003. The album is a highly tedious collection of faux-soul/R&B dross, having little, if any, of the authenticity of the genre's progenitors. Is this Sebastian's fault? Possibly not, but he might note that sometimes it's worth ignoring the more recent years/decades of a genre's development and going back to its roots. David Ryan Harris is credited with Mellotron on three tracks, but the squeaky-clean string line on All To Myself fails to convince, ditto the mellow flutes on Fail To Mention and string chords on Never Be You, although he used real Mellotron and Chamberlin on an album of his own in the late '90s. I'm sure Sebastian is a genuine soul fan, but his (or his musical director's) vision is seriously askew. Just don't.
Second Decay were the late-period German electropop duo of Andreas Sippel and Christian Purwien, whose first full album (after a cassette-only release and a 12"), 1992's La Décadence Électronique, is synthpop as it used to be, the band proudly proclaiming, "This album was produced without MIDI. It is dedicated to our beloved Synthesizers". A cover of John Foxx's Burning Car gives the game away, as does the Trans-Europe Expressness of closer Laboratorium II; not the Soft Cell/Depeche Mode end of the genre, but the Kraftwerk/early Ultravox! one. Hurrah! Admittedly, the Foxx number's the best thing here, but the band's own material isn't bad, just not outstanding.
The gear list is magnificent; allow me to reproduce part of it here:
And that's leaving out some of the other drum machine/sequencing gear and effects... And believe me, they use them to the full. OK, this stuff was easier (and cheaper) to pick up in the mid-to-late '80s (wish I'd bought more myself), but it's still a pretty impressive selection... Either Sippel or Purwein plays the alleged Mellotron, but can it be heard? Can it fuck. Is it actually here at all? The female choir on Poisoned Water? Background strings on Chronomatic or Close My Heart? None seem likely, so I'm afraid it's a bit fat zero on the Mellotron front, unless someone out there would like to enlighten me. Great album within its genre, though, recommended for synth nuts.
Ed Sedan plays a very American form of vaguely rootsy pop/rock on his eponymous mini-album, although, sadly, his jerky vocal delivery, like a pound-shop Mike Scott, isn't up to the challenge. Someone (Sedan?) plays obvious samplotron strings on opener Sky and Walk With Purpose, plus choirs on Goodbye.
Marianne Segal was vocalist with folk-rock trio Jade, whose sole album, Fly On Strangewings, appeared in 1970, while Circulus are the UK's premier (OK, only) medieval folk/rock/psych outfit. Despite knowing the band, I don't know the full story, but Segal sings and plays guitar on Circulus' version of her composition, Swallow, on their first full-length album, 2005's marvellous The Lick on the Tip of an Envelope Yet to Be Sent, essentially making them her backing band for the track, a function they performed again two years later on an entire album of her material, The Gathering.
To be honest, the album's a slightly mixed bag, stronger material including opener September Song, Lapis Wings, the slightly medieval-ish Saints On Tapestry and Dreamers, although I'm not entirely convinced by the band's attempts to 'rock it up' on a couple of tracks, even though they're perfectly capable of doing so on their own records. An unusual feature of the album are the four Little Lucy Vignettes, brief instrumental pieces consisting of (in order) Will Summers' medieval woodwind, Oli Parfitt's harpsichord, Oli's lute and Ian Catt's fakeotron, all leading up to final, hidden track Little Lucy (presumably), a terribly cutesy song about a puppy owned by Marianne as a child. Yes, it's easy to be cynical about such things, but it's actually very sweet. No, really.
Ian Catt plays what I'm fully assured is sampled Mellotron on three tracks, with flutes and choirs on Saints On Tapestry, flutes opening and throughout Dreamers and strings and flutes on Little Lucy. To be fair, they almost sound real, but, er, aren't. While not up to the standard of Circulus' own albums (in my humble opinion, of course), The Gathering's still a very listenable record, well worth the effort for those who've rediscovered Jade in recent years.
There seems to be some confusion over exactly what or who Il Segno del Comando are or were, but I've had it confirmed (hi Mauro) that they're most definitely a '90s outfit, taking their name from a cult '70s Italian TV series, translating as 'the sign of command'. Il Segno del Comando has a doomy, early-'70s sort of vibe about it, like so many of Black Widow's more contemporary releases, and the guitar work gives its recent origins away; no-one played like that thirty years ago. Mellotron credited on one track only, with guest musician Osvaldo Giordano playing strings on the lengthy title track, seemingly sampled.
Richard Séguin's a bit like a French-language Dylan crossed with U2 on Lettres Ouvertes, which, as you might imagine, only works sporadically. Alain Bergé is credited with Mellotron, but all we get is the obviously sampled flutes on La Maison Brûle.
Seks Bomba's schtick lies in playing (mostly) instrumentals in a '60s style. Not psych, not beat, more spy thriller themes, surf and easy listening; imagine mini-skirted girls go-go dancing to The Ventures while Bond and Blofeld reminisce and sip martinis at the bar. Shaken, not stirred, of course. Don't know about the martinis, though. 1999's fake soundtrack album, Operation B.O.M.B.A., is loads of fun, reminding you what's so good about the era's 'grown-up' music, as against all that Beatles rubbish. It'll all be over by next year, eh? George Hall plays Mellotron, amongst other keyboards, with string parts on Theme From "Mondo Edgar" and Do You Know The Way To San Jose?, with some most unnatural pitchbends on the latter, obviously sampled. Two years on and Somewhere in This Town has a few more vocal tracks and, somehow, is marginally less appealing than its predecessor. Too much of a good thing? Dunno, but it didn't conjure up the same mental images as Operation B.O.M.B.A., or, indeed, any at all. While Hall is credited with Mellotron again, there's none obviously to be heard, so no idea what that's about.
Tennessee's Self could probably be described as 'pop/rock' without libelling them too badly. Of course, it's up to the listener to decide how well they do it... The Half-Baked Serenade is their second album and, I'm afraid to say, it largely bores me, with, well, half-baked excuses for songs like Joy, The Mechanical Boy or Cinderblocks For Shoes, although KiDdies is an amusing Marilyn Manson piss-take. The Mellotron is allegedly played by Chris James, although band leader Matt Mahaffey tends to play most instruments in the studio, with a few seconds of strings on Crimes On Paper and Cinderblocks For Shoes, most likely sampled.
Phil(ip) Selway is Radiohead's drummer, whose second solo album, 2014's Weatherhouse, sits somewhere inbetween Eno-esque ambient and the lighter end of indie pop, for better or worse. I can't even really name 'best' (or, indeed, 'worst') tracks; they're all pretty much of a muchness; if you like one, chances are you'll like all. Any one on its own is fine, but stick ten of them together and the overall effect becomes soporific. Katherine "Quinta" Mann is credited with 'mellotron' (why is it that samples users never use the capitalised proper noun?), but, amongst the actual string quartet and other instrumentation, whatever's being used is entirely inaudible, anyway.
Semente's lone (at least to date) eponymous album is something of a mixed bag, to be honest; the opening title track is quite reasonable, but the band seem to run out of ideas as the record progresses, until the tired jamming of Novas Forças and Mundo Guerreiro makes you rather glad it's all over. A shame, as they have some good ideas in places, but they don't seem to be able to sustain them. Sérgio Benchimol and Pedro Kosinski are both credited with 'Melotron' on different tracks (Kosinski on the title track and Ninfa Azul, Benichimol on Mundo Guerreiro), but the only thing I can hear that approaches it at all is some indeterminate strings on Ninfa Azul which must be, at best, fairly poor 'Tron samples. Of course, I've been wrong before... So; a rather uninspired record with some decent moments, and very little 'Tron, real or otherwise. Incidentally, Benchimol's 2004 solo album, A Drop in the Ocean, an Ocean in a Drop, is supposed to contain 'Mellotron', too, but I couldn't even hear samples this time round. Not a bad record, however.
The Big Beauty is a folky Americana/singer-songwriter album, full of accordions and fiddles on the quieter tracks and big electric guitars on the louder ones. Highlights? You Can Run, the crazed Everything (She's The Best) and AM Radio, perhaps. Michael Bloom plays samplotron flutes on Melody, maybe elsewhere.
Semisonic's debut, Great Divide, let everyone know where they were both coming from and going to, that is, weedy American indie pop/rock, at its least dull on Down In Flames and The Prize. Despite (apparently) using a real Orchestron on In Another Life, Jacob Slichter's Mellotron credit appears to be a dud, although he played one on their obscenely successful follow-up, Feeling Strangely Fine.
Tony Senatore is a session bassist, in some ways the four-string equivalent of yer GIT guitar guys, only with far more taste. Although its sleeve pic is enough to put the fear of God into all non-bassists, 2005's Holyland (which appears to be his only solo album to date), is more 'jazz' and less 'bass wankery', notably the flute-led It Was Love, the album's only vocal track, which could easily have been extracted from a mid-'70s New York soul/jazz effort. Best tracks? To my ears, they're clustered in the album's second half and include Lord Of The Subtones, Senatore's fuzz-bass lead on Apostrophe and the Baroque-esque Because. Tom Brislin (Yes, Camel) plays a samplotron string part on Lord Of The Subtones, although a long, sustained note at one point gives the sample game away.
Norwegian-language pop/rock, leaning towards that odd 'Scando-Americana' thing. Perfectly pleasant, if a little unengaging, unlikely to appeal to anyone much outside the band's home territory. Didrik Lund plays a samplotron flute line on Carl Edvard.
Sense are a modern Québecois neo-prog outfit, led by guitarist/bassist/keyboard player Stéphane Desbiens (how do they do this stuff live?), who confuse the issue by throwing in the occasional interesting bit. Their debut, 2002's Madness, is largely generic neo-, with a smattering of prog metal thrown in for good (?) measure, although the band occasionally manage something slightly more original, not least the acoustic-based 'hidden track' that closes the record. All of the album's string and most of the choir parts are generic samples, although some 'proper' Mellotron choir samples crop up in I Was There. 2004's Out of Range is weirdly schizophrenic, in that one minute it's trying to be standard neo-prog and the next it's flying off at an interesting tangent, sounding more like Guapo, or anybody else with a dissonant turn to their music. Unfortunately, it tends more towards the former than the latter, with most of the interesting work being in lengthy opener Out Of Range/Out Of Line, while a burst of jazzy piano in Nightmare keeps the listener on their toes, although the occasional Celtic interlude serves only to confuse. Desbiens' credited with Mellotron, which is a bit naughty, as he's become known (around here, at least) as a sample user. Their use is intermittent, with a couple of credited tracks having no more than a few string chords, but Out Of Range/Out Of Line has a fair chunk of string work, with a medium helping of choirs on Nightmare.
2005's Stone in the Sky is an odd one: two studio tracks, around ten minutes in total, plus several live ones, the disc being paired with a DVD that partially overlaps the CD's live tracks. Confused? Me too. Once again, although the band default to a form of tedious, clichéd neo-prog, every now and again they confound us with a properly 'out there' section, like the one several minutes into Out Of Range. I'm not sure about those covers, though... Steve Howe's Mood For A Day on clean electric guitar and bass? An atrocious version of Genesis' I Know What I Like, with loads of wrong chords and outrageously-accented vocals? No thanks. Their latest effort, 2007's Going Home, is basically more of the same, albeit with more of a Yes influence this time round. Stranger Coming Home is reasonably nice, if a bit bland, but everything else here makes me want to hit the 'next' button. On the samplotron front, we get strings all over one of the album's better efforts, Stone In The Sky (a different version to the one on the album of the same name) and the Yes-ish title track, although that's pretty much it.