Montresor - Autopoiesis (2024) Hi-Res

An enjoyably intriguing sophomore album from Montresor, Autopoiesis pays homage to a very specific prog-rock niche: the brief yet impactful Rock in Opposition (RIO) movement of the late ’70s. Jazz fusion, prog, and alternative meld with artful appeal throughout the release, which is a notable stylistic departure from 2015 debut Entelechy and its more love-letter rock familiarity. Autopoiesis is consistently engaging, from the brisk jazz-friendly drive of bass, woodwinds, and piano on “Farmland” to the smooth psych-friendly engrossment of “Pyramid.”

The project of Australian guitarist and composer Cameron Pikó, Montresor will have strong appeal to anyone seeking delectably unpredictable prog-rock pursuits. Idiosyncratic rhythm sections, orchestral components, and swift guitar work collide in beautifully, sometimes chaotic, form. The album’s closing title track is another ravishing showcase, immersing with an intertwining of various instrumentation into a thumping bass fascination and frolicking, medieval-like glow; this swell traverses beautifully into the satiating finale, wrapping up the excellent Autopoiesis.

Entelechy, a blend of prog-rock and fusion jazz, featured potent ’80s guitars and surprising time signatures, all enveloped in intense harmonic textures. Although Autopoiesis sounds different, the same elements of prog-rock and jazz fusion heard on Entelechy remain. They’re just employed another way.

Montresor states: “The first album in nine years was a long time in the making, with some compositions dating back to 2018’s ‘February Album Writing Month’ challenge. Autopoiesis is an extended labour of love… paying tribute to a lesser-known subgenre of progressive music with a fascinating history, the short-lived Rock in Opposition (RIO) movement of the late ’70s. Influenced by RIO bands such as Henry Cow and Univers Zero, the music fuses technical instrumental progressive rock with classical instrumentation.”

Encompassing eight tracks, entry points on Autopoiesis include “Vanishing Fog,” which for some reason conjures up suggestions of Ravel’s “Bolero,” only less blatantly erotic and injecting almost-jarring twangy textures. As strange as the combination sounds, it works.

“Bildungsroman,” with its discordant surf-rock intro, flows into an experimental melody tinted with jazz flavours and prog-rock tangs reminiscent of King Crimson, yet more innovative and unusual. All the traditional aspects are there, but it’s as if they were dipped in Dadaism.