New Jersey multi-instrumentalist Jordan Pantaleo proved to be quite versatile and ambitious on 2012’s Fragmented.  Guiding progressive metal, rock, and folksy, acoustic singer/songwriter techniques into a fairly idiosyncratic hodgepodge, the collection was a highly impressive and striving effort that oozed DIY charm. Happily, its follow-up, Ending at the Start, surpasses it in every way: its timbres are more colorful, its arrangements are more varied, its melodies are more engrossing, and its production is more professional. Although his influences are a bit overt at times, there’s no denying the talent and skill he demonstrates here, as he exemplifies not only how well these styles can meld, but how complete and consistent a self-produced album can be.

At its heaviest, Ending at the Start conjures the most extreme elements of Devin Townsend’s musical persona (which, undeniable or not, Pantaleo is happy to acknowledge), yet there are two factors that make this acceptable. For one thing, Townsend has a very distinctive sound, so the fact that Pantaleo can capture it specifically (rather than, say, a more generic and all-encompassing variation on genre forbearers like Dream Theater or Fates Warning) is notable. Also, he intersperses these moments around drastically different approaches, showcasing a level of dynamic sophistication few artists ever match.

Take opener “Thinking About You,” for example. It’s bookended by spurts of hellish guitar riffs, syncopation, and vocals that feel like a lost section from Deconstruction (or the entire catalog of Strapping Young Lad). However, the majority of the song is a light and breezy slice of rock music lead by acoustic guitar strums, modest percussion, sparse electronic effects, and inviting vocals. It’s catchy, unassuming, and very inviting, feeling more aligned with the last Oingo Boingo album (1994’s Boingo) than anything related to metal. The fact that Pantaleo (with some help from bassist Paul Schmidt and vocalist Thomas Mackwell) can create such accessible yet schizophrenic compositions is remarkable, and this starting track is easily a highlight of the sequence.

Equally enjoyable is “Beautiful,” whose funky rhythms and hypnotic guitar lines instantly appeal. There’s a charming vibrancy and quirkiness to the vocals, too, which serves as an understated complement to the laidback arrangement. Things become a bit more intense near the end, with more aggressive singing and a sharp guitar solo, but the majority of it is wonderfully delicate, dense, and introspective. In contrast, “Useless” uses an early ‘90s hip-hop beat and an emphasis on sythn patterns to provide a more playful vibe. 

“Bending the Desert” finds Pantaleo satisfying his progressive metal itch, as intricate riffs dance around devilish rhythms and shifting melodies. It’s very engrossing and unpredictable, with several of the LP’s best melodies scattered around. It’s a tour-de-force of all Pantaleo can as a musician, composer, and singer. Best of all (and most surprisingly), it’s especially well-produced for such a humble project. (Frankly, there are many releases that don’t sound this good yet have more money, machines, and manpower behind them).

For the most part, the subsequent two tracks, “Catchin’ Fire” and “Needs Help,” follow a similar trajectory, albeit with various specificities that make them feel individualized. The former is a bit jazzier and softer, while the latter is more biting and confrontational. Both are incredibly gripping, though, as is “Casting the First Stone,” the penultimate piece, whose slice-of-life philosophical lyricism is amongst the most universal and intellectual on the album.

One of the truest staples of progressive music is the lengthy suite, and Ending at the Start doesn’t disappoint, as its closing gem, “The Kingdom,” offers roughly twenty-two minutes of inventive instrumentation and multifaceted temperaments. Essentially, it’s a magnificent synthesis of every element that preceded it, including hectic outbursts, elegant passages (with lovely electric piano accompaniment and vocal counterpoints), and adoring melodies. Like all of the best epics, “The Kingdom” succeeds most because of its seamlessness; it truly feels like a single vision rather than several dissimilar yet conjunctive parts, and the fact that it was written, performed, and recorded by one person (more or less) makes it particularly astounding.

Ending at the Start succeeds in two ways simultaneously: it provides a very refreshing and enticing entry into a genre that’s too often plagued by safe tropes and expected deliveries, and it also demonstrates just how limitless the possibilities are for a visionary who has the means and skills to move from internal concepts to external realizations. The term “self-produced” is commonly seen as pejorative, yet Pantaleo proves that it can also lead to a collection that’s every bit as polished, robust, and serious as a major label release.