Are we masters of our own destiny, or does the course of our lives hang upon a fate as arbitrary as the turn of a playing card? This is the question that underpins Nova Cascade’s latest and sadly final album, Box Man. Nova Cascade was formed by vocalist and keyboard player Dave Hilborne in 2010, and this is the band’s fifth studio album. The musical style might be described as ambient progressive rock, but in many ways this haunting and deeply heartfelt music transcends genre categories. Like previous Nova Cascade albums, Box Man combines the richly emotive voice of a solo violin with sumptuous layers of keyboards, expressive guitars (from Colin Powell) and colourful symphonic arrangements – supported here by sensitively programmed drums and Dave Fick’s agile bass. Tragically the band’s former violinist, Eric Bouillette, passed away due to cancer during the making of their previous album, The Navigator, but the mellow tone and sensitive phrasing of Nino Chikviladze make her a worthy successor.
The stunning opening track, The Choice, which clocks in at an epic 28 minutes, explores the consequences of one man’s decision to change his life by following an enigmatic signal and embarking on a mysterious quest. Musically its form consists of contrasting episodes, with little thematic continuity or development, but it is unified by an overarching narrative; in Dave’s words, “the moral of the tale is that we are all looking for something in one form or another, but with that comes many different consequences.” The remote location of the opening is suggested by mysterious, brooding synths and a yearningly emotive violin melody. Imaginative and unexpected harmonic shifts evoke a perilous journey through strange, mythical landscapes. The episodes that follow are sequenced to contrast lush and reflective symphonic soundscapes with more upbeat, quirky and even jazzy sections, conjuring up a fantastical series of images and moods in the mind of the listener and suggesting the fragmentary vividness of dreams.
The six shorter tracks that follow continue to explore the concept of chance and choices. Smoking Gun depicts a man haunted by bitter memories of ‘Chances gone to ground’, ‘Unclaimed & drowned’. Keyboards introduce a carillon of pealing bells which underpins most of the track. Dave’s half-whispered vocals perfectly convey the protagonist’s tortured state of mind, torn between a desire for acceptance and closure and a determination never to relinquish his anger. His final murmur of ‘Pray I never forget’ seems to achieve some form of resolution, with a final glittering peal of bells floating over a reverberant wash of synths that glows with the valedictory warmth of a sunset.
The captivating instrumental track If You Don’t Succeed opens with a looped rhythm on hand drums. One by one, a dreamlike procession of repeated melodic patterns join the sedate dance, combining and interweaving with mathematical precision and then departing, producing a mesmerising kaleidoscope of shifting textures and colours. This serene formality gives way to an impassioned burst of celebration from the full band, with animated drums and Colin Powell’s jubilantly soaring guitar. After a brief return of the stately dance a new, tentative and enigmatic theme takes centre stage, greeted by bursts of recorded applause and finally bowing out to the sound of slow, mysterious footsteps and eerie synth chords. This feels like music with a story to tell, but one where each listener has space to create their own narrative.
The Sentry presents a master class in concision. So little is said, so much is suggested, in both words and music. An elderly war veteran, once a sentry on the frontline, buries his head in the pillow each night in a futile attempt to escape the dreams and flashbacks that haunt his sleep. By an ironic turn of fate, during an attack by armed aircraft a freak ricochet saved his life, condemning him to witness the deaths of the comrades he was bound to protect. Was he favoured by fortune, or cursed? The track is framed by recordings of gunfire and aircraft engines, which remain in the background just as they persist in the mind of the old man. Colin’s guitar chimes out a desolate melody which is then taken up by Dave’s fragile vocals. Shimmering keyboard sonorities are shrouded in a mist of reverberation to create a dreamlike effect which contrasts pointedly with the brutal realism of the closing gunfire.
As It Was And Is is a beautifully atmospheric instrumental track. A portentous four-note figure suggesting the relentless march of fate transitions into a perfect example of Nova Cascade’s hauntingly beautiful trademark sound – an emotional and melancholy violin solo which soars above a radiant wash of synths and elegant ripples of nostalgic piano. The dreamlike mood is briefly shattered by a burst of reality in the form of agitated guitars and drums, and then returns to enchant us again. Once more reality – or is it nightmare? – intrudes in the form of eerily whistling synths and a disquieting series of strange and ambiguous chord progressions which eventually fade into nothingness without reaching a resolution.
Box Man addresses both the plight of the homeless and the impact of fate upon our lives. Dave first wrote the track in 1996 and it has a special place in his heart as it was a favourite of his mother’s, who would sit by his side as he composed and played. In the arresting introduction the grandiose and portentous tones of a church organ establish a dark and sombre mood. Over a wistful arpeggio-based piano figure, Dave’s delicate vocals radiate pity as he describes the homeless man, perpetually lonely, hungry and with nowhere to sleep. Perhaps he wonders, with a sob in his voice, I’d be better off dead. More portentous chords, this time on strings, set the scene for the box man’s mysterious warning to those who pass by, arrestingly delivered in hushed but intense vocals:
The life I lead
Is the one you fear
And amidst the haze
You find yourself drawn …
Fortune is fickle – had you or I been dealt a similar hand in life, might we have found ourselves in the homeless man’s place? The track concludes with a moving coda in which the wistful piano figure returns, now accompanying a forlorn guitar melody which seems to be lamenting the injustice of life.
The album closes with another instrumental track, The End Of The Line. The mood here feels more upbeat, featuring a chiming melody on guitar and keyboards, lively percussion and a wonderfully athletic bass line from Dave Fick. There is a sense of looking back wistfully on the past but also of the onward passage of time that carries us all in its wake, regardless of choice, fate or fortune.
Box Man is a triumphant example of the ‘show, don’t tell’ school of music, conveying its message through evocative hints and suggestions and inviting the listener to fill in the gaps. Dave’s distinctive vocal delivery leaves the listener in no doubt of the depth of feeling he brings to the music. The instrumental performances are superb; without recourse to flashy solos or scene-stealing demonstrations of technique, each player makes a sensitive, eloquent and unique contribution to the overall effect. As well as delivering outstandingly beautiful music that touches the heart and lifts the spirits, the album offers serious food for thought, posing challenging questions about social justice and the degree of control we have over our lives. Listening to a Nova Cascade album is always a moving and rewarding experience, and with its breadth of style, scope and mood this final one just might be the band’s best.
Profits from album sales will be donated to Pancreatic Cancer UK, in remembrance of Eric Bouillette.
TRACK LISTING
01. The Choice (28:11)
02. Smoking Gun (4:19)
03. If You Don’t Succeed (6:15)
04. Sentry (5:04)
05. As It Was And Is (4:41)
06. Box Man (7:20)
07. The End Of The Line (5:16)
Total Time – 61:06
MUSICIANS
Dave Hilborne – Vocals, Keyboards, Programming
Colin Powell – Guitars, Additional Keys, Bass (1)
Dave Fick – Bass
Nino Chikviladze – Violin
ADDITIONAL INFO
Record Label: Independent
Country of Origin: UK
Date of Release: 21st April 2025
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