Review: The Emerald Dawn – The Land, the Sea, the Air (Volume II)

Style: Progressive rock, psychedelic rock, folk rock (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Pink Floyd, Genesis, Jethro Tull, Jimmy Page guitar solos
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 28 July 2026
Is there something in the water over there in the UK (and also in the land and in the air)? Perhaps the continually record-breaking heatwaves resulting from anthropogenic climate change that scorched the islands this summer have instilled a sense of climate anxiety more urgent than ever?1 Whatever the cause, there’s a definite streak of naturalistic prog music issuing from the North Atlantic over the past few years, with the likes of The Gardening Club, Albion, and even last year’s Phantom Spell putting out releases ranging from psychedelic folk rock to traditional heavy metal, all celebrating the natural and timeless beauty of Britannia. Now, The Emerald Dawn return with a followup to 2025’s The Land, the Sea, the Air, a continuation of their environmentalist love letter to the natural surroundings of their homeland, fittingly released on World Conservation Day.
Like the aforementioned The Gardening Club, The Emerald Dawn build their style from a combination of classic rock influences and more modern psychedelic and folk rock ideas, particularly in their usage of atmospheric keyboard and synth effects. Where other groups with similarly separate inspirations organize them as divisions between individual tracks, The Emerald Dawn’s long-form compositional style necessitates that the seams between psychedelic and classic run right through the middle of each song; the band members cycle through sections of spacey, atmospheric keyboard work (often bringing to mind sounds of nature like a whispering breeze or babbling brook) and lengthy improvised solos. Even the non-solo portions feel at least partially unplanned. Although the main rhythms and chord progressions were assuredly written in advance, The Land, the Sea, the Air (Volume II) is not heavy with complex, layered harmonies, instead handing the lead to a single instrument at a time with simple, single-strain melodies that probably could be produced on the spot, whether or not they actually were. As the album progresses, though, it shifts slightly away from the improvisational style. Tree Stewart’s vocals introduced in “Rivers of Tears” take on a more conventional leading role, and by the time the final track “Paradise” arrives, its structure feels almost traditional—still lacking a proper chorus, but with clear primary melodies that recur throughout the piece. This is not necessarily to The Emerald Dawn‘s benefit, however. Their talents shine brightest when making things up as they go along, and the parts which were more thoroughly composed ahead of time lack the same flashy confidence.
Because The Land, the Sea, the Air (Volume II) isn’t available on the main streaming platforms, the live-in-studio performance on YouTube was one of the most accessible ways for me to listen to it. My impressions come from a combination of that version and listening for free on Bandcamp. Interestingly, this bespoke format serves well for The Emerald Dawn’s improvisational style, which leads to slight but noticeable differences between the two versions right away with the Led Zeppelin-esque opening guitar solo in “Song of the Rainforest.” Subtle variations in each performer’s contributions force a divide between the two recordings, which only grows as the listener becomes more familiar with the subtleties—a uniquely clear feeling that these are two separate events, not the same constructed edifice of a performance duplicated across different platforms. Although only the YouTube performance is billed as a live studio performance (and was even streamed live, in case you wanted proof of that nature), both carry the unmistakable aura of seasoned musicians comfortable enough with each other and their instruments to play uninterrupted for forty-five minutes straight.
With such a rough-and-ready old-school attitude also comes a natural bit of crude production, equally present in both versions despite only one being ostensibly recorded live. The Emerald Dawn simply haven’t made a major effort to sound as composed and elegant in the recording studio as many of their peers do, and depending on how you look at it, that could be either a charming foible or a disappointing hindrance. Tree Stewart takes on the main vocalist role with a voice dark and mysterious like the dappled shade of an old forest, but unpolished, giving a performance that would be impressive for a soloist with the local community choir, but sounds relatively unprofessional when recorded and immortalized as purchasable digital files (as well as the physical media also available). Many of The Emerald Dawn’s chosen keyboard effects also sound like the stock MIDI effects on a basic electronic keyboard, undercutting the actual musical talent on display. As virtuosic as their solo sections are, it can be hard to take the artistry seriously when the rhythm section feels so cliché or “cheap.” While I appreciate the honesty and rawness of a more live-feeling performance in the era of ever-present photo filters and social media feed curation, there’s also a reason most recorded albums take a perfectionist approach to production. With the vast worlds worth of music at our fingertips, a listener sitting down to digest an album at home or during their commute is more likely to be distracted by the missteps—emphasized as they are by the artifice of digital streaming—than to feel welcomed into the circle of shared creativity as one would at a true live performance.
All art has its time and place. As the music industry modernizes (for better or for worse), audiences can access their libraries and playlists from almost anywhere and any time, and their choice of artists to listen to follows inevitably from that context. The Emerald Dawn acquit themselves best as essentially a jam band, highlighting the sections where their instrumental work can let loose with enigmatic showers of sound and aural texture. Whether jamming along with improvisational leads or building out psychedelic soundscapes of nature, these environmentalist Brits play with a precision beyond the professional—the kind that can only be achieved by lifelong musicians with a personal bond and understanding of each other’s internal rhythms and flow. Unfortunately, these talents aren’t best suited to the preternaturally poised and polished presentation of digital music, and The Land, the Sea, the Air (Volume II) sounds somewhat novice by comparison when removed from its more intimate, more forgiving home context of live performance.
Recommended tracks: Song of the Rainforest
You may also like: The Chronicles of Father Robin, The Gardening Club, Albion, Hadal Sherpa
Final verdict: 5/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Label: Independent
The Emerald Dawn is:
– Tree Stewart (keyboards, piano, flute, acoustic guitar, vocals)
– Ally Carter (guitars, saxophones, keyboards, vocals)
– David Greenaway (bass)
– Tom Jackson (drums)
- The Subway’s resident Brits certainly haven’t shut up about it. ↩︎
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