If Slift’s third album Ilion was a sci-fi flavoured slice of hard-hitting psych-rock, the band have swerved into something far more fantastical for the aptly named Fantasia. Slift’s vocalist, Jean Fossat, took inspiration from Argentinian author Jorge Luis Borges whose stories involved themes of chance, infinity, dreams and mythology, and that inspiration is written large in every one of the eight tracks on offer here, and especially on the fifth track ‘Orbius Tertius’, a title borrowed directly from one of Borges’ short stories.
The band has moved away from the sprawling song structure of Ilion, where almost every track on the album was over 9 minutes long. Fantasia’s longest track is the eponymous Fantasia, clocking in at a whisker under that 9 minute mark. It’s a slow, doomy opening to the album, with Fossat’s snarling, almost plaintive lyrics letting you know that you’re in for a different experience here. There’s a new story to tell, something more thoughtful, more contemplative, something fantastical, a feeling bolstered when the synths kick in around two minutes into the song.
There’s a distinct prog-rock feel to this album, and comparisons could be drawn to everything from genre stalwarts Hawkwind and even Pink Floyd, while other tracks like ‘The Day of Execution’ invite comparisons to Iron Maiden in their Number of the Beast era, with the stories on offer. Fantasia weaves a tapestry of a fantasy town, plagued by evils both real and imagined, by fear of the unknown and the outsider, exemplified in ‘Corrupted Sky’ and ‘The Village’. The corruption and hypocrisy of the village is laid out for all to see in ‘A Storm of Wings’, a track that condemns corrupt leaders and the followers who embolden them while cramming in references to jazz musicians Charlie Parker and John Coltrane, as well as Soviet writer Mikhail Bulgakov’s novel The Master and Margarita, a supernatural story about a mysterious foreign visitor who challenges the beliefs and behaviours of the citizens of Moscow.
In the aftermath of the storm, things become a little slower, a little more sombre, before we ramp up again for ‘The Day of Execution’, and it’s perhaps because that track is so high-energy that the album closer doesn’t quite land as well as the band might hope. ‘Secret Mirror’ wears its inspiration on its sleeve, with references to collapsing reality, reflections, being lost, all tying back into Borges’ work, but even after repeated listens, it’s definitely the album’s weakest point. It’s not a bad track by any means, but its emphasis on dreamy, almost carnivalesque synths feels a little out of place. That aside, this album is the best thing Slift has done (with Ilion a close second), and it’s proof that this is a trio who are still flexing their creative talents and aren’t afraid to test out new directions for their music.