We Came From Space: “Overlords” (2023) – Album Review

Summary

Balancing the catchy hooks of Beatlesque pop melody with a fusion of 70s rock motifs and progressive rock virtuosity, We Came In Space’s second album Overlords is a thrilling cosmic odyssey through a melodic prog-rock wormhole.

Album Info

Introduction

We Came From Space is a Pittsburgh-based project that specializes in a very melodic flavor of progressive rock. I mean, it’s right there in the music; extrapolations of bands like Styx, Kansas, Supertramp, Electric Light Orchestra, even early Genesis and especially later Beatles. The band, featuring Neal Morse Band vet Bill Hubauer on keyboards/vocals, Dave Buzard on guitar/vocals, Dave Hawk on bass/vocals, and Tim Malone on drums/percussion, concocts a unique brew that invokes the legacy of the aforementioned bands, layering in progressive elements while infusing them with engaging melodic accessibility.

Again, I hate using the word “accessible” when it comes to any kind of art; the unspoken backhand implies that it is somehow simplified, dumbed-down, or simply unchallenging.

In any review of their second album, 2023’s Overlords, those particular descriptors would be far from apropos. But goshdarn if this album isn’t as catchy as a Mos Eisley Cantina karaoke night and as compelling as a bare-knuckle grudge match between DS9 and B5 fans.

THAT is as geeky as I’m going to get in this review. I hope it was worth it.

All quizzical asides aside, Overlords wears its sci-fi kitsch on its sleeve — the band purports to be beings from the future who have traversed the universe and its hordes of Lizard People, all in service of ROCK! — but there are deeper layers in play here. The lyrics delve into themes of corporate control, sublimination of self in the pursuit of celebratory, identity loss, creativity as connective empathy, and so forth.

Heady stuff indeed, but much of it wrapped up in such joyously catchy riffs, rousing vocal harmonies, and airtight musicianship, you might not notice the subversion of expectations between content and delivery. And perhaps that’s fine as well; certainly as a musical endeavor, Overlords is a beautifully produced and engagingly delivered slice of melodic prog rock. With a closer listen, you may discover you weren’t quite where you thought you were at the beginning, and where you finish might be in a whole different side of the galaxy than you assumed.

Or you can just simply let the music just drive you along. Nothing wrong with that at all. Even if you’re a Lizard Person.

Review

The opening title track “Overlords” establishes itself with a swirling orchestral intro, throwing in some “Firth of Fifth” nods before the piano-driven chorus kicks in. Assuredly, opening a song with the following lyrics garners attention with eyebrow-raised amusement:

I’ll play some happy chords
For the robot overlords
Let ’em know we’re doing all we can…

… but he song continues with colorful melodic energy, those layered Beatlesque harmonies, and the sort of musical embellishments that help sustain its joyful momentum for nearly 11 minutes. After four minutes the song shifts into a guitar-driven 70s mode, maintaining the melodic drive and earwormish harmonies but diving headfirst into arena rock with heavy prog elements. We’re talking early Kansas/Styx/Journey territory, but an overall tone that’s derived, not derivative. By the time we return to the closing recapitulation, the song has earned its explorative stripes.

Wasting no time, the album transitions quickly into “On The Radio”, a zippy Power Pop-inspired take on media culture and vapid celebrity. At 5:06 it’s the second-shortest song on the album but it makes efficient use of its runtime, successfully infusing its pop-rock proclivities with dancing keyboard lines, distant echoey vocals, and even tasteful use of 1940’s-styled radio announcing. The instrumental outro engages with its jazzy piano work, bubbling keyboards, and driving rhythm section. What could have felt incongruous instead integrates perfectly with the first 2/3rds of the song.

“Empty Space” apes some Yacht Rock tropes well, especially with some more jazzy piano, crisp guitar fills, and zesty vocal harmonies. There’s even a direct Steely Dan callback in one of the verses, although the tune recalls a bit of Chicago and Toto as well. Again, all derived, but not derivative. “Empty Space” is a different type of tune than its predecessors but one entirely in alignment with them.

At nearly eleven minutes in length, “She’s the Bomb / Atomic Blues” is the second of three “epic-ish” length tunes on the album. This one doesn’t quite connect with me, or at least not as well as the opening three tunes. Comprised of two sections, the “She’s the Bomb” portion is a serviceable number but it lacks the hooks and melodic swell that up to now have been so inviting. I’m more captivated by “Atomic Blues”, the instrumental second half. The band really gets to show off their musical virtuosity, with plenty of tonal and temporal migrations along the way to engage more prog-minded fans.

“Reputation” is pure 70s/early 80s FM rock, and puts on no airs about it. The callbacks to Sweet’s “Fox on the Run” are practically begging for your attention, as the foot-tapping verses and sing-along choruses provide the kind of melodic swells that were emblematic of glam, power-pop, and hard rock of the era. For fans of those genre trappings, this song is entirely irresistible.

Things slow down a spell with “Silent Letters”, another bouncy slice of Beatlesque pop. The song is agreeable, moreso for its smaller moments than its overall structure. I’m talking the orchestral cues, the background effects, a bit of guitar here, some harmonies there. Maybe the sum of its parts exceeds the whole; it is one of the album’s lesser tracks, but not without its charms.

Upon first listen, “Facade” felt a bit out of place on this record. It didn’t have the big hooks or the high pop sensibilities. Instead it felt more like straightforward contemporary prog with a bit of tasty retro seasoning (80s Genesis in particular). Further listens ameliorated those sentiments; while you could argue it’s a more “serious” piece in light of the album’s other more lighthearted (or lighthearted-sounding, really) endeavors, it maintains the album’s tonal aesthetic while remaining a uniquely situated piece on the record.

And it’s a fine tune as well, which is by any measure a good thing as it segues directly into “Seize The Day”, the album closer. At just over nine minutes, it continues the more “serious” vibe established by “Facade”, excoriating those who would squander the precious gift of time, delivered through fine vocal performances and some especially dreamy piano work. We have the requisite instrumental segments, showcasing the band’s musical talents but with virtuosity always in service of the song. The ending sways into an epic outro that may hint at delving into overblown territory, but it easily skirts that boundary.

And in closing…

Overlords fascinates me in a many ways. Ostensibly it appears to be a cheeky, lighthearted romp with aliens, robots, futuristic motifs and retro callbacks, and other such oddities and curiosities. Musically it pulls from a tonal toolbox that is instantly recognizable; its familiarity and pleasing melodic pop/rock/prog constructions bring a sense of joyful engagement to the listener. That is, until we find ourselves in less poppy (but no less engaging) musical territory that delves into the same breadth of meatier subject matter we had been enjoying all along, right under our noses. It’s an adept slight of hand, and a compelling one at that. Give Overlords a spin if you’re yearning for any measure of a satisfying scratch a melodic prog rock itch.