The Time Machine (1999)
The Time Machine is one of the more ambitious and creatively satisfying chapters in Alan Parsons’ post-Project career. After a couple of more understated releases, Parsons goes back to what he does best: delivering a full-blown, high-concept art rock record that wears its theme right on its (time-traveling) sleeve. And honestly, it’s about time.
The record whisks listeners on a journey through space, time, and the human condition—grappling with themes of love, memory, consequence, and the strange elasticity of time itself. It’s a welcome return to the narrative-driven style that made albums like I Robot and Tales of Mystery and Imagination so compelling.
Unfortunately—just like On Air—The Time Machine is not easily available on streaming platforms. A handful of tracks (including the Dr. Evil Edit) can be found here and there, but the full album remains frustratingly scattered across single releases, YouTube uploads, and hard-to-find physical copies. Why it hasn’t been fully reissued or made widely available remains a mystery… but it’s a real shame, because it’s one of Parsons’ stronger solo efforts.
Things kick off with the cinematic instrumental The Time Machine, Pt. 1, which sets a majestic and otherworldly tone. It’s like boarding a spacecraft fueled by synths and orchestral swells. That’s immediately followed by Temporalia, a spoken-word piece featuring a monologue by Professor Frank Close, giving the album a philosophical spine. It’s eerie, hypnotic, and contemplative—basically an existential TED Talk set to music.
From there, the album weaves through a series of tracks that blend catchy, radio-friendly art rock with more experimental and jazzy textures. Out of the Blue is a highlight: reflective and haunting, it contemplates how time affects our emotional lives. Then there’s the unexpected detour with Dr. Evil Edit—a quirky, fun nod to Austin Powers’ iconic villain, featuring snippets from the film. It’s a playful break that somehow doesn’t derail the album’s momentum and reminds us Parsons still knows how to have a good time in the studio.
Stylistically, the album leans into everything from proggy instrumentals to slick, jazzy pop-rock, with crisp guitars, rich synth arrangements, and flawless production throughout. There’s a clear 1970s experimental vibe running through it all, but it’s paired with a modern touch that keeps it accessible.
While The Time Machine might not always get its due, it stands out as one of Parsons’ stronger solo efforts. It’s imaginative, musically diverse, and rooted in a solid concept that’s actually followed through. You can tell the team had fun and took the material seriously—a rare combo.
If you’re into prog, concept albums, or just want to hear what a time machine would sound like if it had a soundtrack, this album is absolutely worth the ride.
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Highlight Songs:
No Future In The Past
Press Rewind
Beginnings
Dr. Evil
Ignorance is Bliss
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Own it, Stream it, Forget about it?
Definitely worth owning. This record is best played all the way through and it is so, so close to achieving a NSA award from me, but The Very Last Time is a bit underwhelming and skippable to in my opinion. This album isn’t complete on any streaming sites, so if you want to listen to everything you gotta go to Youtube or you gotta buy it. So … just go ahead and buy it, you won’t regret it.
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Overall Rating:
4 Stars
