Sunburst - "Manifesto"

Dreams made manifest

Of all of my long-shot wishlist albums for 2024, a Sunburst release was one of the longest. See, Sunburst is a Greek Prog Metal band who I discovered seemingly at random shortly before the Pandemic, and they only had a single album out — 2016’s Fragments of Creation.

But it was seriously good — the band sounds like a proggier, heavier Kamelot, thanks in no small part to Vasilis Georgiou (also of Black Fate and Innosense), whose vocal tone and style is strongly reminiscent to that of Roy Khan. And yes, I know we already have Seventh Wonder to fill the role of a proggier Kamelot, but Sunburst really takes it a step further.

Anyhow, because they’re a small act with only a single album and every member, according to Encyclopaedia Metallum, has multiple other projects already… well, it’s hard to get news on a band that may have been a one-and-done collaboration. Which is why Kenstrosity’s review of the album for Angry Metal Guy (specifically the opening paragraph) was somewhat vindicating.

If a writer for one of the most prominent metal-specific review sites lost track of them, I think I can excuse myself for missing it.

The important thing is that I did ultimately catch on. Because missing out on this album entirely would have sucked. The album kicks off with “The Flood”, which sees the band swinging for the stars right out of the gates. This opener is deep and rich, shifting from technical to melodic and back again at the drop of a hat. It’s very proggy, but also tinged with a touch of Power and Symphonic for flavor. This song is followed by “Hollow Lies”, which runs heavier and faster than the opener, but is no less melodic.

Those two tracks, plus closer “Nocturne” feature guest composer John K (aka Yiannis Koutselinis) who crafted and polished the orchestral additions to those songs. Those orchestral touches really add an extra layer of polish to those songs that the rest of the album generally lacks. But even on the rest of the album, the layering is intricate and compelling. Take, as an example, the chorus of “From the Cradle to the Grave — beneath the top layers of vocals and guitar, the bass, backing vox, and a subtle piano (just to name three things) form a nuanced web which supports and enhances the lead guitar and vocals.

Speaking of that lead guitar — some of Gus Drax’s solos throughout Manifesto are pretty spectacular, but they’re all excellent. Between him and Georgiou, there’s no lack of virtuosity on the album. I’m not super familiar with drumming techniques and can’t really speak on the nuances of Kostas Milonas’s performance, but the percussion line is lively and omnipresent. The only one who seems to be lacking is Nick Grey, whose bass is lost in the mix, as Kenstrosity pointed out. That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill it — just that maybe the album would be improved by a remix/remaster that brings the bass forward a bit.

There does seem to be some sort of narrative throughline that runs through at least most of the album’s eight tracks, but I have not spent enough time really analyzing it to be certain. Lyrically, the songs feel timely — there’s a sense of foreboding that dominates the album; a notion that the world is descending into dark times. And I think that’s something that a lot of people feel right now. You can find the lyrics on Bandcamp and Genius, for sure.

Very few albums have truly gotten me jamming this year, but Manifesto is near the top of that list. While nothing quite captures the perfection of anything from The Black Halo, nothing has scratched the Kamelot itch for me this well in years. Their last album certainly didn’t.

I’ll be coming back to Manifesto frequently, I think.

Rating: Blue