Uwe Gronau has had a number of CDs reviewed here, and it's always a pleasure to greet each new release, as the keyboard player never fails to uplevel his acumen or provide a variety of sounds every time out, Thoughts of Tomorrow no exception. No sooner does the first cut, Brazil, waft out from the speakers than you're boppin' in the living room to a jazzy post-Braziliana uptempo good time, a cool breeze and warm sun that one can't help but also locate elements of Pat Moraz's I album in (yeah, I know that's not the real title, but how the hell does one make that strange symbol in a computer?), as Gronau is no stranger to progressive rock.
The follower, At the Beach, ratchets down into a mellifluous Ibiza styled ambient number susurrating with slow waves, more balmy sun, and arrays of radiance, a lazy day at said oceanfront with hardly a care in the world. Uwe never shies from crafting up synth patches adroitly paralleling other instruments, and here a Spanish inflected guitar is at first cleverly deceptive until the failure of every synth ever made—the inability to perfectly imitate string legato—grinningly gives away the near-perfect imposture. Deep in my Heart returns to multi-layered keyboards beautifully enhanced by Uwe's simple but highly effective lead lines, a resonance of the previous track's guitar envelope lying just above the acoustic piano patch. As the song progresses, it gets ever more complex and interlocking but never a chops fest, just well composed, fetching, captivating.
Clemens Paskert supplies the disc's drum loops, drum programming, and other sounds, nicely underscoring rhythms all over the disc, which, this time out, contains opuses more mindful of Jean-Luc Ponty's compositions (minus violin, of course) and trademark joie de vivre, blent with the Gronau's always eclectic potpourri: Vangelis, Kraftwerky elements, the aforementioned Moraz, Geoff Downes, etc. Though Thoughts of Tomorrow is a very summery album, don't imagine Uwe yo-heaved the cosmic elements—they're still there but oft usurped by jazzier romps, as in The Secret of House #15. For the more pronounced outré elements in serial minimal refrains and loops, check out Special Movement. No matter where you cut in on the disc, it's all of an eclectic piece, and this guy gets nothing but better, time after time.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Copyright 2014, Peterborough Folk Music Society.
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