Recorded live at two separate locations (Audincourt, France and Baarlo, The Netherlands), Alive captures Klone on stage in front of a rapturous audience in 2019, shortly before the world drifted into the interminable cycle of lockdowns form which we are only just emerging now. Beautifully mixed by Chris Edrich, you’d be forgiven for forgetting this was a live show, audience screams notwithstanding, and it’s a testament to the band’s ability that they can reproduce their complex and layered music on stage with such skill and precision. The only slight disappointment is that the decision was taken to fade the applause rather than draw the elements together into a seamless whole, which does distract from the flow a touch; but this is a minor misstep in an otherwise near-flawless recording.
Opening with the epic beauty of Yonder, Klone run with the folkier elements of Tool’s dense sound and, drawing upon elements of King Crimson and Pink Floyd, weave them into something airier. Not that Klone are a light proposition. The cut and thrust of the track sees some truly gargantuan riffs enter the fray, not to mention vocals that veer towards the deathly (albeit kept low in the mix), making for an electrifying entrance. Next up, the stuttering electronica of Rocket Smoke has an explosive feel even before the guitars make their weight felt. With the band making deft use of reverb, the guitars slip between ethereal post rock and a deathly assault that ranks alongside Meshuggah for sheer brutality and yet, for all the instrumental savagery the band deploy, there’s still that underlying sense of melody, tethering the band to the progressive realm. The band slow things with Breach, a track that initially bears such similarity to Pink Floyd’s Breathe that I had to double check the booklet. A short, sumptuous track which expands beautifully towards the chorus, it gives way to Sealed, which harks more towards the pastoral prog of artists like Steve Thorne (Emotional Creatures). There’s real beauty here, and more than once, you’ll find yourself drifting into the band’s wide soundscapes, only to be snapped back to the present when something more straight forward, like Give Up The Rest, returns us to the heavier vibes of Yonder. The mid-tempo Grim Dance echoes Porcupine Trees more metallic output, with shimmering guitars and atmospheric synths providing the space for heavier passages to force their way into the light, while The Drifter is a gorgeous piece that hints at influences from Massive Attack and Bjork (more on the latter later).
With a keen eye on dynamic, Klone lead the listener to a darker place with the hulking riffs of Immaculate Desire. Part Tool, part Soundgarden, the mid-tempo beat nails the riff to the ground even as a deathly vocal seeks to harrow the listener. As the track progresses, so it slowly descends into madness, the band proving themselves as adept at weaving a tangle of noise as they are at engaging in mellifluous beauty, and there’s no denying the adrenalin rush that greets its conclusion. In contrast, the lilting piano melody of Immersion allows room for a more Katatonia-esque approach, complete with echoing synth patches and folk-infused vocal, although there’s depth too, in the deft use of the rhythm section as the track progresses. The hefty, elastic riff of The Dreamer’s Hideaway keeps things moving forward, while the mid-tempo beauty of Nebulous allows room for some truly gorgeous melodies. Similarly, the atmospheric and lush Silver Gate dips its toes into the melancholic waters of Katatonia, complete with soaring vocal. While it feels like the natural end to the set, the band return to the stage for a surprisingly visceral version of Bjork’s mesmerising Army Of Me. A bruising version indeed, it’s arguable that what the track loses in terms of Bjork’s utterly unique voice, it gains in raw, muscular power and it provides this most compelling of sets with an appropriately blistering climax.
Brilliantly played and recorded, Alive is a powerful document of Klone’s strengths as a live band. While there are moments that cleave close to the band’s influences (not least the Floyd-esque Breach and the Katatoina-influenced Silver Gate), the overall set offers the perfect overview of a band that have been quietly releasing prog gems since 2003’s Duplicate, and who have carved out their own sound and space in a somewhat crowded genre. Although it’s a shame that some tracks fade out, where crossfading would have more effectively recreated the atmosphere of a single performance, the elegant lyricism of the band’s output is so effective in drawing the listener in that you find yourself lost, as in a good book, within one or two tracks of hitting play. A masterclass in quiet intensity, Alive is a memorable trip through a remarkable catalogue. 9/10
