The End of The Revolution

The announcement that Pure Reason Revolution were calling it a day popped up in my Facebook feed earlier; the Reading alternative prog rockers have cited 'changing circumstances' but whatever the real reason it's a damn shame. I first stumbled across the band several years ago, supporting Mew at The Wedgewood Rooms if memory serves, and with their intoxicating blend of harmonies and melodic (and, yes, progressive) rock they soon became a band that my gigging buddies and I obsessively followed.

We bought the CDs, coveted the badges, used the bookmarks given away at the merchandising desk and waited with bated breath for news of a new release. Time passed only for debut album The Dark Third to be re-released in a slightly different form. Of course, we bought that too. Our fanboy ardour waned as the months went by; after a disappointing gig at The Joiners, beset with technical issues, one of our number decided that was enough. Our fickle fandom could only take so much.

However, being the kind of sad music obsessive that I am, I couldn't give them up completely. I scoured the internet for updates, there were rumours of the new album, but I wouldn't believe it until I had a copy in my grubby mitts. So it was, some months later, that I again found myself at The Joiners. The rumours were true; a pile of shiny new CDs, all in shiny cardboard sleeves, teased me from the merchandise desk.

Second album, Amor Vincit Omnia, dispensed with the lush strings from the debut, replacing them with dollops of synthesizer. The harmonies and repeated themes remained but, despite a couple of excellent signature tunes (Deus Ex Machina and Victorious Cupid), it wasn't as wholly satisfying a listen as their debut. Where the album succeeded though was in showing a band confident enough to experiment with their sound.

Not letting the dust settle PRR continued their push into electronic territories, perfecting their efforts on third long player Hammer and Anvil. Co-written and produced by Tom Bellamy (ex-Cooper Temple Clause) the album is a heavy, pounding, synth happy delight; throat-grabbing opener Fight Fire is a song that seems designed to accompany things blowing up.

Shortly after Hammer and Anvil's release I saw the band for what now looks to be the last time, at last year's SouthseaFest; having drawn the opening slot on the Wedge stage the band found themselves playing to a mostly empty room. No matter, they cranked the dials up to 11 and played a charged set sampling their new long player. This was a band ready to seize the day, or so I thought at the time; I really do have a kiss of death about these things. 

But before they bid the crowds adieu, pack up their instruments and go their separate ways, the band will be playing a final six shows. The 'farewell tour' takes in Nottingham, Bristol, Norwich, Holmfirth, Glasgow and London (but sadly no 'one last time' at The Joiners, which is a shame) with debut The Dark Third being played in its entirety each night. A good way to say goodbye, if there is such a thing. 

So long PRR, and thanks.