REVIEW: daidrum – ‘All At Sea’

On his sophomore LP ‘All At Sea’, daidrum invites us into a world where memory, myth, and melody drift in and out like changing tides. This new full-length outing from the London-based artist is nothing short of a prog-rock voyage—emotionally dense, sonically expansive, and deeply personal.

Spanning nine songs and nearly an hour of music, ‘All At Sea’ wears ambition proudly on its sleeve. It’s an album that doesn’t shy away from grand gestures or conceptual storytelling. Yet what makes it truly compelling is how grounded it feels, rooted in real experiences of grief, fatherhood, and the shifting sands of identity in later life. The sea, both literal and metaphorical, becomes a recurring motif—a vast, unknowable force that mirrors the emotional undercurrents throughout.

From the melancholic sway of ‘Trafalgar Blues’, which paints a vivid portrait of a soul haunted by war, to the dreamy pulse of ‘Lonely Planet’, daidrum moves deftly between introspection and theatricality. The production is lush without being overwhelming, balancing vintage textures with a modern clarity. It’s clear that this is a labour of love, one crafted in the quiet solitude of a home studio but shaped with a cinematic ear.

There’s also an unmistakable thread of homage running through the album. Fans of early prog giants will feel right at home, but daidrum as filters those influences through his own lived experiences, whether meditating on generational trauma in ‘Salt Requiem’ or wrestling with the emotional turbulence of retirement in quieter moments.

Ultimately, ‘All At Sea’ is a record that rewards patience. It’s not built for fleeting attention spans, it’s meant to be absorbed and wash over you slowly. Every track feels like a message in a bottle: carefully constructed, cast into the unknown, waiting for someone to listen.