Tower is a very good title for an album as detached from reality as this one. A tower is indeed what Circle and Mika Rintala of Verde have done here -- they've built this huge tower looming on the horizon, a tower that reaches so high above the clouds and into the quiet infinity beyond, that it's peak can never truly be seen by man. Only imagined. Or talked about in the pub.
It is up there, on the topmost balcony of this huge construction of uncounted tons of steel and marshmallows, that Circle and Verde sit around a table, quietly playing cards and sipping tea, while the world so far below them drives itself into confusion.
The only sound that these quiet men can hear is the rustling of the cards, the occasional clinks of their warm teacups and the almost inaudible screams of distress echoing from beneath the clouds, where people trapped by genres and unwritten laws of musical expression are trying to claw their way up the impossibly steep walls of pure genious.
Tower could possibly be called a regressive version of Circle's Miljard, the double album that was released last year. The heavy metal guitars of Circle's Tulikoira or Earthworm are nowhere to be heard. There are no high pitched hard rock vocals. No monotonous krautrock basslines. Only 40 minutes worth of swirling keyboards and wandering drums.
Be brave, and get your spiked wristbands, suspenders and leather jackets out of the closet anyway. Dive headlong into the Tower. You might like it there. This is the sound of the New Wave of the NWOFHM!