01	Eleanor Rigby						07:42
	02	Still Life						07:28
	03	Painted Lady						03:28
	04	Obsession						04:36
	05	The Rape						12:06
	06	Last Tango						03:30

RAYMOND VINCENT (Belgian; first violin)
BRUNO LIBERT (Belgian; keyboards)
GODFREY SALMON (English; second violin)
TIMOTHY KRAEMER (English; cello)
GINO MALISAN (Italian/Belgian; bass)
TONY MALISAN (Italian/Belgian; drums)
ROGER MEAKIN (English; vocals)
KIM MOORE (English; vocals)


Esperanto are a cornering classic progressive rock band, with influence into the various good moods of style and smile, with an open expression in mostly all the rough, gentle or renitent moments and with a perfect time, though a little too slow, to show how this music of the 70s has the value of assimilation, of eclecticism and of bit of wealthy craft for the healthy mind and spur. All good things, all accessible draft and impressive simplicities, sketches on a band without pretentious but with a sufficiently talent enormous derider and earnestness. The third official album, called sweepingly Last Tango, hasn’t got any tired feelings or any numb desires, despite the name which allure a sad story and a slow beat, or the fact that Esperanto’s final major churn lies in this, and the signs of spading the last drops of creativity or resting in many places from the extraordinary happenings are considerate. In fact, listening to all three albums was hardly tired (except if Danse Macabre is quite a too inspirational great album), what to tell of the character of one album, short as it is, rapidly consummating as it derrises, plus in a fashion of gallant progressiveness, unpretentious moods (sure, this doesn’t mean the proverbial superlative either) and ponder inquisitiveness of music band, vocal effects and joice conviction ever getting far enough to sound like music of a dowry pleasure prescription, of a couple good sonnets and of pure inspiration in a time of classical mead.
Last Tango is full of hope in getting a special sensation, a quintessence pallor and a beat of raveling touches. In a veritable point of view, there is an intense feeling of progressive resister in everything Esperanto does, and this kind of an maturity-doused album wouldn’t miss that kind of program. Yet a prog rock genuine taster (not I call myself that, just that I imagine the strong view over what’s beyond the music) will acclaim, without stress actually, that the classic stage and those giant monsters have rumbled in many places, spots and dots of the movement, also getting essentials in so various directions, as for Esperanto to miss, and not by margins, the fit in the collective of innovators or the excellent music meanders; Last Tango’s glow has little to do with the most exquisite effects realized by the band, yet it’s one of three in telling the moody and the cornering (as I’ve said already) talent of Esperanto in more tranquil and divvied ways of prog rock classic time – it expresses very much the band in its shade of unique movement, afterwards dealing with a lot of interesting music. It defines the panic around the edgy surfaces (cause there are), only to resume remembering the greats points in which they’ve missed nothing. Left is, thus, the raveling sound, rhythm and confident art of Esperanto, which here has delight and a bit of bright brew, condensed along the last tangos and tongues of linguine prog delight. Last Tango isn’t a masterpiece or a collection vinyl gloss, it just doesn’t disappoint at all the Esperanto general imitation and immixture.
After the ominous band and style wobble, the music of Last Tango is culvert, inning , assent, but with a very pleasant emotion and in a meaningful glow. The album is or comes felt as short, despite pieces of a thick outline and a massive interplay. The course of music goes deep into instrumental cursive crash and vocal charm, having no concept but sticking to bright effects. We have pieces of dancing moods, rough scales, intensive rock and lyrical faucet. The hard rock is less convincing than ever, though Esperanto played some up in their regaled previous masterpiece, and stick to that essence; more superficial though, there is the folk-ish resemblance, which loses fantasy over the feel, the spirit and the creative play. Left are some melodic rock fine tunes, some rock astound dynamics (very nice actually; “how clean can you get”) , some round ways of filling up color over reflection, some good choices of vocals being above the clean and free gloss, also some interesting sundry exceptions from the normal virility of tempered states, meaning that there are pieces of surprising heat or cold sheet. Eleanor Rigby, though inconsistent to the main thought we would have (that of a cover), is a splendid piece of violin exhaustion and cyclic leitmotifs. The epic piece, around the last in the album, misses again the utmost brilliantine shape, much like The Journey did in Danse Macabre. A bit of melodrama is sketched, a bit of strange music (even, if I may say, some early disco plastic harmonies) is present and itches, a bit of melancholy in living the high grounds of rock and power towards the more plat and left in desire nuances is controllably felt. The album is good, the band experience is awesome, the credits are extinguished in the same resume as ever: very nicely shaped prog rock, very little lighted extreme expression, very smart hidden obscure pleasures, very low written unique words and distinctive joys. At the end, the album falls into memento; or the acquired taste saves it a little longer.
In the fortitude of a goodbye,Last Tango is the last breath-hold of Esperanto, who demise or sketch worse than expected afterwards. Pleasure and enticement shouldn’t be unconceivable in this fast album of great feeling tenses. Two or three pieces, along with two or three defining elements, top this album at the middle stand between what was shockingly disappointing in the album and mildly refreshing in the master-album; therefore, by this album and by the figurative appreciation, Esperanto aren’t actually heading into unconsciousness, but stick around a good sense of lithe progressive classic presence. (progarchives.com)