Masquerade

If necessity is the mother of invention, then Bernard J Taylor must be the father. In recent years Bernard has taken a musical journey from the sweeping romanticism and "Wuthering Heights" to the pop and jazz tones of "Success!", and from the subtle gentility of "Pride and Prejudice" to the glorious classicism of "The Millennium Suite". And yet, such variety did not prepare me for the arrival of "Nosferatu, the Vampire", which contains some of the most haunting show music I have heard.

"Nosferatu" is dark and sombre yet with an inherent beauty; eerie, ethereal and passionate. Unlike scores suggested by other similar Gothic horror stories, Taylor has peeled back the glossy sheen that often coats show music to reveal a tough under-skin. While the likes of Frank Wildhorn are inclined to revert to pop schmaltz, Taylor adopts a stark modern sound, heavy on synthesizers and electronic percussion, stripped bare of over-lush elements. With "Nosferatu", Taylor has been the mid-wife at the birth of a new musical form. The off-spring, called Techno Gothic, is doing well.

Mind you, my admiration for this work wasn't instant; this was not a case of love at first listen. Initially I was concerned by an apparent lack of the glorious romanticism that has become the writer's trademark. But gradually I realised that if you lifted the hem of the cloak of darkness, lurking beneath it were layers and layers of great beauty. Not as obvious or as instantly accessible as previous works but well worth the effort to uncover. Having said that, this work does boast several glorious Taylor ballads. Indeed, as early as the third track we are treated to a sublime duet, "Unspoken Thoughts", quickly followed by an enchanting trio, "Mixed Feelings". "Wherever You Are" and "If I Do It" are also rich in melody, while "Am I Awake?" is a fine a pice of writing as BJT ever produced.

The real fascination of "Nosferatu", however, eventually proves to be the depth and grandeur of the abundance of haunting memories. From the prologue's pairing of "Wild Talk Of Vampires", a striking tune used to open the second act (as "A Lot to Fear", and the introduction to Nosferatu, "Somewhere At The Edges Of Creation", we are plunged into a world suffused by a sense of mystery and evil. The songs bequeathed to the character of Renfield are, by requirement, strange and unsettling with his recurrent themes, mildly discordant and menacing. Witness titles like "And Sheep Shall Not Safely Graze", "Nature's Symmetry" or "Worms Feed On My Brains" and you will get an idea of what to expect.

But it is not just in the basic format that Taylor has rung the changes. Rhythmically ranging through classical, Africa, modern and techno forms, seldom can a score have so successfully blended so many diverse ingredients - a pinch of Arabic, a dash of East European, carefully mixed by the master chef and served to us as a feast.

A number of familiar names are found helping out in the musical kitchen, veterans of Taylor recordings. One important addition to the flock, however, is Barry James, a Masquerade favorite and recommendation. Now Barry's talents are well known to all West End disciples but I doubt if he has ever been more impressive than here as the demented Renfield, acting out the role in the studio as if he was on the boards. Mind you the successful marriage of glorious melodies and clever lyrics coupled with the sense of vivacity propels the listener into a shpere that suggests a live show without the need to ever leave the armchair.

Another new arrival at the stable is Mario Frangoulis (Les Mis/Phantom). He may just be a yearling but performs, as Jonathan Harker, like a thoroughbred in songs like "Disturbed" and "Refuge". I was also particularly impressed by the contributions of Mark Wynter, who sounds nothing like the pop idol I remember from the sixties, bestowing great authority to the role of Van Helsing, while Simon Burke is beautifully over the top as the Innkeeper with an outrageous Transylvanian accent.

"What, no Claire Moore?" I hear you ask. Do not despair. A Bernard J Taylor recording without the divine Miss M is as unlikely as a Cilla Black television show with class. Claire as always performs wonderfully whether soaring to great heights on the magnificent "Am I Awake?" or happily getting into the thick of the action with the likes of the moody and tormented "Poor Wretched Man", performing both with equal aplomb. And then of course there is Peter Karrie. Karrie never sounds happier than when he is faced with tackling the most dramatic of pieces. When Bernard introduced him to this score he must have thought all his birthdays had come at once. He growls and purrs his way through a multitude of songs that sound like they were written just for him. From the power and menace of "Night" to the aching sadness of "The Point of Singularity", Karrie is quite simply magnificent.

For the first time Bernard enjoys joint billing on the lyrical front with Eric Vickers and they blend well, producing lyrics that are metrical and succinct, propelling the narrative forward with pace and clarity though a massive 34 songs and with only minor aberrations - I could have lived without the 'nudge, nudge' tendencies of "If I Do It".

With "Nosferatu", Bernard J Taylor has once again displayed his exceptional talent, in the process reinforcing his versatility. Surely it cannot be long before that talent is fully recognized and rewarded. The day is coming and when it arrives I will be in the front line, abandoning any thoughts of self-modesty and proudly proclaiming "I told you so!".