Auditory esotericism finds a revival.
If recent trends in popular culture have taught anything, it is that safeness and predictability remain the order of the day for artists looking to capture the ears of the mainstream. In this context, a fold of musicians seeking to buck said trends most brazenly, throwing proverbial caution to the wind and inviting all within earshot to step outside of their comfort zone, can’t help but be a welcome breath of fresh air.
Such has been the stock and trade of British progressive rock outfit and purveyors of the mathematical side of the sonic equation, Poly-Math, since their mid-2010s formation, eschewing the very concept of convention and fusing together disparate influences seamlessly into a compact series of instrumental jams. Their latest studio entry, sporting the esoterically themed title of Something Deeply Hidden, marks the fifth and arguably most adventurous foray into the studio LP format they’ve concocted since their 2013 debut EP Vertex.
Standing at a crossroads between the stylings of Ethio-jazz, classic progressive rock, post-rock, and math-rock, the four-piece arrangement that lays down these seven tapestries of sonic ambiguity walks a brilliant tightrope between virtuosic excess and tasteful accessibility.
Between the loose jazzy grooves of drummer Chris Woollison, the happy traveling bass high-jinks of Joe Branton and the crunchy distorted six-string handiwork of Tim Walters; this trio that rounded out the original lineup has all the chops to hold a sizable candle to Rush at their most quirkily elaborate, yet the auditory niche that they establish mixes a greater degree of cold logic to go with the cultural mystique that flows through each composition. Much of this owes to the spacey ambience and oddball studio tricks brought to the fore by keyboardist Scott Gesner, which adds an additional layer of dissonance and depth that rockets the entire arrangement well into the cosmos.
Upon its very opening, Something Deeply Hidden establishes a tone of deep contemplation with an explosive execution, rocking as hard as some of the more aggressive mainline rock bands of the 70s while maintaining a thick, post-rock atmosphere. Consequently, the relatively compact opener “The Universe As An Engine” pounds out a mathematically elaborate rhythmic pulse between the drum kit and guitars that could be likened to an interstellar twist on “YYZ” with double the keyboard presence.
Nipping on its heels with an even more upbeat yet dissonant character is “OneTwoThreeFour Body Problem”, a rather unsubtle nod to the n-body problem (a concept in studying the motion and behavior of celestial bodies where more than 2 bodies result in an unsolvable equation) that matches chaotic drum work with highly agitated riffing and a generally spooky vibe fit for outer space.
Rounding out what might be dubbed the compact trio is the similarly short and upbeat “Chronostesia”, which crams in so many flashy, jazz-inspired twists and turns that it falls just shy of achieving sonic singularity. Generally, the longer things go, the more that the outlandish musical ideas populating this opus are given a chance to grow and develop.
The extended seven and a half minute jam dubbed “No Such Thing As Now” comes with its fair share of abrupt changes in feel and timbre, but it’s smooth grooving intro and its more agitated and hard-edged development section just past the halfway point feel less fleeting and make for a more grounded journey from A to B, even if the song’s title suggests there is no real distinction between the two.
A similar story is told on the slightly shorter “Spectral Disorder”, which sees Branton’s busy bass work enjoy a greater degree of prominence amid the deluge of jazzy drum fills, warring keyboard timbres, and crackling riffs and lead guitar passages. Yet the best is saved for last via the towering 8-minute final hurrah “Terror Management Theory”, which sees every moving part in the arrangement exploding into a kinetic war of virtuosic intrigue while having a clear sense of sectional development and progression that keeps it from being a mere showboating session.
Terms like avant-garde and experimental get thrown around when discussing any brand of progressive rock, perhaps rightly so given that the genre hasn’t really enjoyed a comparable resurgence since its peak in the early to mid 1970s, but they are labels that perfectly encapsulate just what Poly-Math is about.
At first listen, one might be tempted to dismiss this as music written solely for musicians, steeped in technical flourishes and obscure stylings that carry little appeal for those who aren’t already predisposed to performing such feats on their own respective instruments. However, a closer inspection reveals a band that has taken all of the right cues from the formative strides of King Crimson as well as the 2000s progressive/experimental revivalism of The Mars Volta and Battles and translated them into an instrumental template that can be appreciated outside of virtuoso circles.
Something Deeply Hidden rewards patience and punishes assumptions. Poly-Math have built something that belongs to no scene, owes nothing to trends, and sounds exactly like itself — which, in 2026, might be the most radical thing a band can do.
Release Date: April 10th, 2026
Record Label: The Lasers Edge
Genre: Progressive Rock, Math Rock
Musicians:
- Tim Walters / Guitars
- Joe Branton / Bass
- Chris Woollison / Drums
- Scott Gesner / Keyboards
Something Deeply Hidden Tracklist:
- The Universe As An Engine
- One/Two/Three/Four Body Problem
- No Such Thing As Now
- Euthyphro Dilemma
- Spectral Dis/Order
- Chronostesia
- Terror Management Theory
Order the album here.
Five albums in, Poly-Math are still asking questions most bands don't even know how to phrase. Something Deeply Hidden is the sound of a band that has found its universe and keeps expanding it, and is proof that the most adventurous music doesn't need words to say something worth hearing.
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