Progressive Rock

Back in 2015, a young band called Regna (a name derived from the group’s earlier name, Anger, spelled backwards) burst onto the national progressive-rock scene with an early first release, the self-released EP ‘Meridian’. This first recording consisted of a suite gathering much of the band’s earlier work, and it already gave us hints of what they could offer despite limited technical means.
During the concerts held between 2016 and 2017, the band combined the tracks from their EP with newer, more mature compositions, promising a new album.
Finally, after eight very long years, the promise has come true: ‘Cinema’ saw the light of day on 23 December 2023. This second album, whose maturity in composition, performance and production makes it feel more like a fourth or fifth release, shows us a Regna in a special state of grace, with each of the six compositions that make up this work shining in its own right. Regna is currently made up of Alejandro Domínguez (guitar), Arturo García (bass), Miquel González (keyboards), Marc Illa (vocals), Eric Lavado (drums) and Xavier Martínez (guitar).
‘Opening Credits’ sets the scene right away — an omnipresent, roaring Hammond organ sound takes the stage, and in under a minute it’s already signalling it’ll be a key element throughout the album. Miquel González plays brilliantly with the instrument’s drawbars and keys until he hints at the main theme of the following composition, ‘Return to…’, which continues without a break. This piece opens with an introduction built on harmonic cadences indebted to a ‘Pink Floyd-ish’ sound in the vein of Rick Wright; once this opening ends, the harmonic wheel resolves and flows into the track’s main section, sung magnificently by Marc Illa and masterfully backed by the rest of the band. You can hear the strong influence of the best classic symphonic rock, following in the tradition of bands like Genesis, with a great display of layered organ and guitars, irregular time signatures and an impeccable narrative musical structure.


The album continues with ‘Spyglass’, a track with a bucolic feel where the vocal melodies flow naturally until the song suddenly turns mysterious and heads into more complex territory, as if the narrative structure had taken an unexpected turn toward tragedy — though in reality it leads us down Canterbury-scene paths, accompanied by delightful, evocative Mini-Moog synth solos. The next track, ‘Tangent’, opens with an imposing interplay of guitars reminiscent of the best Wishbone Ash, joined by the organ to form a solid foundation over which the whole song is laid out, with fine work from both Alejandro Martínez and Xavier Martínez on guitars. In the central section, we again see the band’s good taste for carefully crafted melodies, sheltered by a harmonic base built on solid good taste.
‘Dramatis Personae’ arrives as an evocative prelude to Scandinavia’s melancholic side, with haunting, spine-chilling ‘mellotronic’ flutes drawing a nostalgic melody reflecting a devastating present — the drama preceding, or perhaps the consequence of, the piece ‘Accolade’, a 20-minute suite that is the crown jewel of the record. The album closes in majestic, brilliant fashion with a composition that tastefully brings together all its influences without giving up a voice of its own. Sung sections, which act as a connecting thread, combine with complex, majestic, at times reflective instrumental parts, where melancholy, rage and hope are wisely blended in a constant interplay of sonic contrasts. In short, a closing composition that leaves us all open-mouthed and wanting to listen to the album all over again.
This record has been one of last year’s great pleasant surprises, ranking among the best symphonic rock albums of 2023. I just hope I won’t have to wait another eight years for this magnificent band’s next release, so… LONG LIVE REGNA!
Writer: Carles Pinós
