We frequently encounter colourful visions of post-apocalyptic futures – but a less documented scenario is the time immediately preceding the end of the world as we know it.
Step forward, then, Arjen Lucassen, Dutch veteran of many a fantastical concept set via his chief creative vehicle, prog-metal juggernaut Ayreon. On his third solo album, Lucassen presents a War Of The Worlds-meets-Armageddon tale in which terror spreads as a giant asteroid is reported to be on a collision course with Earth.
The opening strains set the scene without need for metaphor or poetic licence as a shock jock/YouTuber figure, voiced by Toehider’s Michael Mills, explains that the world’s inhabitants have ‘five months until our planet becomes a cosmic ashtray.’
As The Clock Ticks Down is full of stabbing metallic riffs as the immediate repercussions of the news are felt. Lucassen and guest Floor Jansen of NIghtwish harmonise: ‘The working man has quit his job, the kids won’t go to school, no more laws, no more rules,’
Some people are in denial, some in panic, some are feeling a desperate need for connection. ‘The whole damn world has lost its mind,’ Jansen concludes, either side of some typically emotive divebombing guitar soloing from the main man.
As the tale unfolds, Goddamn Conspiracy depicts the inevitable deniers – in a timely dig at a certain kind of modern mindset – to the tune of a propulsive hard-rocking flute-flecked number that resembles Jethro Tull leaning into a full power metal racket.
Yet there’s still opportunity for humour, something rarely heard amid the portentous doomscapes of albums like this. The folk-rock romp of Shaggathon depicts (not too graphically, we’re grateful to report) the wildly hedonistic approach some adopt to deal with the grim news.
Meanwhile, Dr Slumber’s Blue Bus sees thrillseekers heading for an end-of-the-world party at the island location where the asteroid is projected to hit. But the levity is fleeting, as the despondent balladry of We’ll Never Know is sung from the point of view of a couple expecting a child whose birth they won’t live to see.
Then in a similarly affecting vein, Just Not Today’s acoustic elegy tries to take some appreciation of why it’s so important to enjoy the fleeting time we all have – surely the prominent point Lucassen is trying to make with his whole story.
Faintly ludicrous and simplistic as this yarn might be, it’s a vibrant and gently satirical framework around which he’s woven well-crafted musical tapestries. Humankind should enjoy it while it still can.
Songs No One Will Hear is on sale now via InsideOut.
