Fantasia

SLIFT — 2026

“SLIFT turn restraint into power, packing their space-rock intensity into sharper, more urgent forms.”

SLIFT spent years building cosmic epics that ran past the ten-minute mark, so the biggest surprise on Fantasia is restraint. The French trio packs eight songs into under fifty minutes, and at times you can almost feel them resisting the urge to wander. Jean Fossat opens the title track screaming for “a fire for your soul” over a riff that keeps threatening to lift off, and that tension between weight and hope creates the narrative for this record. Once again, the band gives you a concept where on Fantasia the story features a town drowning in fear and suspicion as a stranger gets blamed for the issues. That intense feeling is driven by the SLIFT power musicianship as Brother Rémi Fossat plays bass like it owes him money, thick and heavy, while Canek Flores locks into grooves that pull you forward instead of letting you drift.

What pushes this past 2024’s Ilion is how much room Jean’s voice gets. He still lets loose those punishing screams, but he sings now too, letting his guard down in ways that make the heavier moments hit harder. I think some fans may still long for the longer instrumental moments but should really give these tracks a legitimate listen because they do really pack a similar aggression. The lyrics borrow from Argentinian author Jorge Luis Borges and lean into magical realism, swarms of insects and falling butterflies standing in for xenophobia and powerlessness. By the time you reach “Remember who you are,” the whole thing reveals itself as a plea to wake up. It is not quite the towering achievement Ummon was, but it is a thrilling step that proves SLIFT can hit just as hard in half the time.

“The Village” is a prog standout where the outsider sings “every single day they call me the stranger” before the song blooms into a wide, defiant chorus that flips his shame into belonging. “A Storm of Wings” is the rallying cry, all “politician criminals going to the church on Sunday morn,” with a saxophone nod to Coltrane and Parker that turns righteous fury into something almost joyful. “The Day of Execution” lands the record’s emotional punch, a chant of “Fantasia, amnesia” that builds toward the realization buried under everything else.

Fugazi was the first band that came to mind, which surprised me, not for the riffs but for the moral urgency and the way every part here feels coiled and deliberate. Stretch that post-punk backbone over the desert weight of Kyuss and you get close to how Fantasia hits, heavy without ever sludging into autopilot. Elder is another reference, since they pulled off the same trick of taking stoner riffs somewhere more searching without losing the muscle. Hawkwind fans will recognize the cosmic streak that survives even in these tighter songs, because SLIFT still give off a vibe that they could suddenly bolt for the stars. There is also a bit of Clutch in the way SLIFT deliver a protest song without making it feel like a lecture.

SLIFT trimmed these tracks down and somehow sound bigger for it, daring you to believe a crowded song can still carry a clear message. The increased vocal presence, which I really liked, makes the biggest impact and the message keeps echoing long after the last riff shakes your speakers.