The Book Of Hours (2025)
So what is an Agropelter anyway? AI tells us: "A legendary "fearsome critter" from North American lumberjack folklore, said to inhabit hollow trees in coniferous forests from Maine to Oregon. It is depicted as an ape-like creature with a slender, wire-like body and long, muscular arms used to break off and throw branches at loggers." Leave it to the Norwegians to reference an obscure American folklore legend. One I'd never heard of, for certain. No takers for Punxsutawney Phil, huh?
I had been told that Agropelter were exactly the type of retro prog I would enjoy. I was certain that was true, though I have so much of it already, I hadn't pursued the title with earnest. The label owner had a different point of view considering my apathy, and so here we are.
Agropelter are, at this point anyway, an instrumental project surrounding a one Kay Olsen, who is the composer as well as providing much of the salient instrumentation (guitar, bass, organ, synths). He surrounds himself with some prog rock A-listers to ensure a built-in audience awaits. Many guests are on hand to provide anything from grand piano, flute, cello, mellotron, duduk, and beyond. The instrumental palette is rich and wide.
The opening 'Flute of Peril' brings in that familiar melancholic dark and misty mellotron heavy Scandinavian flair that Jordsjo has so completely mastered. Ah, but we get our first curveball on 'Leviator'. A more direct sound, with synthesizers played in the mid 70s style. An almost American approach, perhaps even Kansas when in their instrumental flights of fancy mode. Or Ethos for a more obscure reference. The synthesizers often recall early 80s Tangerine Dream, a welcome diversion from the usual early 70s recipe. It's no surprise, then, that Olsen name checks Vangelis. The latter when in rocking mode I hasten to add. The other artist Olsen references is Terje Rypdal, and one can here that especially in the bass heavy atmospheric portions. Though, to be clear, The Book of Hours certainly doesn't veer into fusion territory all that much. This is symphonic progressive, true to the meaning of the first word. In fact the rhythms are rather straightforward for this kind of album, once again pointing to an 80s heritage. I'm reminded of many a Dutch band operating in this space. When hearing it in this light, the ghost of Camel appears from the hallowed halls. The Par Lindh Project also comes to mind, especially considering the classical leanings.
Retro prog can mean many things, though it has become a euphemism for the darkened prog that Anglagard started and groups such as Wobbler, Agusa, and Jordsjo have taken forward and further mastered. Agropelter is decidedly not of that branch of the tree. The Book of Hours reminds me of the optimistic time in the 80s when much was still left to be discovered, and yet the corporate world of music was holding most everyone back. There were shoots of green grass everywhere though. Agropelter would have been one of those. Hard to capture that time and place so well, as it was far more subtle than the grandiose and well documented progressive rock scene of the early 1970s. This is one of those niche within a niche albums that is almost always worth exploring.
So yep, as predicted by those in the know: It's exactly the type of retro prog I enjoy.
Ownership: 2025 The Laser's Edge (CD). Digipak with recording details. Acquired in 2026.
2/2/26 (review)
Hopefully this isn't a one off project.
2/2/26 (new entry)

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