On 25 September 2026, Quantic in Bucharest brought together Green Carnation, Euthymia, Uncle Leaf and Men in the Box for a show that progressive metal fans had been looking forward to for quite some time. Indeed, Bucharest Prog Day did it again! And it did so with names for whom Romania was, until that day, uncharted territory.
Official announcement poster
© Bucharest Prog Day II
And So, Off to Quantic We Went…
I hadn’t been to Quantic in quite some time, and I have to admit I had missed it. I had missed the people there, as well as the place itself, and the coffee before the show was exactly what I needed. I also caught up with a few familiar faces just before the event, which once again brought back that feeling of belonging to a group. After all, there are some of us who have known each other for years, and whenever we find ourselves in the same place, there are always one or two stories to share.
First to Share Some Stories, Then to Listen to the Music
Of course, we are talking about short stories here, as time was scarce before the first band took the stage. We are talking about the Italians from Men in the Box, who in 2010 decided to work together, bringing their grunge and atmospheric influences to the Quantic stage. I had never seen them live, so it was a pleasant discovery, especially given how confidently they settled into the space. Indeed, I liked the conviction with which they took over every corner of the venue.
Stylistically speaking, Men in the Box draw on the intensity of Alice in Chains, adding their own touch through heavier riffing, unexpected turns and passages with an atmospheric quality reminiscent of Alcest. There is also something of the willingness of Radiohead to experiment in the way they approach their material, which keeps things from settling into a single formula.
For me, they were the right way to begin the evening. Their set gave me the time to leave the day behind and gradually get into the mood for what was still to come.
Next came Luxembourg’s Uncle Leaf, formed in 2019 and with a fair amount of material to their name. The psychedelic side of their post-rock was well suited to the Quantic stage. As expected, the instruments did the talking. In fact, they did a bit more than that: they put us into a trance. And that is, after all, one of the roles of the genre.
The members of the group took us through their discography, and each song found its place naturally within the set. Of course, the atmosphere itself gradually built up, pulling us deeper into their sound with every passing minute.
By the end of the set, I had the feeling that time had moved a little differently in that room, which is probably as good a sign as any that Uncle Leaf had done what they came to do.
Yet the evening still had plenty in store. The next to take the stage were the members of Euthymia, active since 2022. Originating from Italy and Germany, they came together through an interest in Jungian psychology, psychoanalysis and metaphysical contemplation, which they explore through music.
When it comes to them, trying to reduce their music to a single genre would be an exercise in missing the point. Their carefully crafted compositions draw from progressive rock, doom, post-rock and ambient music, yet none of these labels quite manages to contain what they are doing.
What stayed with me, though, was not a particular genre or musical reference, but the way they seemed to truly live the music they were playing. You could hear that same dedication in Vito Tambasco’s lines, whose vocal ability came with a confidence that was impossible to miss, while his conversations with the audience revealed a noticeably more sensitive side. And the instrumentation was no less impressive, with each musician knowing when to step forward and when to leave room for the others.
Together, they created the kind of performance where the distance between musician and crowd seemed to disappear. You could feel how much of themselves they had put into each piece, and how willing they were to give a part of that to the audience. The music they played left us with questions, but also with the desire to see them again.
And, as the nasty habit of desire is to know no limits, so it was with Green Carnation. I found myself wishing, more than once, that I could see them live again. The Norwegians have been in my headphones for a long time, and I can say that their songs have moved me at different points throughout their journey. Of course, when we are talking about a band that began in 1990, and about a simple fellow like myself who had been waiting for the “A Dark Poem” trilogy to finally make its way onto a stage, some things become rather obvious.
It is no secret that Green Carnation began as a death metal band before gradually turning towards progressive metal, a move that brought listeners from different corners of the metal spectrum into their world. Nor is it a secret that their compositions have consistently returned to themes of life, death, sorrow and introspection, examining them from different angles over the years.
But let us return to the trilogy that was presented at Quantic. Across its three parts, “A Dark Poem” takes the figure of Ophelia created by William Shakespeare together with the image of her found in the work of Arthur Rimbaud, pushing it into progressively darker and more intricate territory. And there I was, finally hearing live what had been announced as “The Best of «A Dark Poem»”.
I heard “As Silence Took You”, one of the most delicate pieces I have heard performed live in recent times. Then came “In Your Paradise”, with its bleak meditation on fear, catastrophe, judgement and the way much of what we perceive as an approaching end may exist first and foremost in our own minds. “Unconditional Artificial Chemistry” took us somewhere else entirely, into a world of binary commands, artificial existence and the uneasy question of who is really in control. The song’s gradual shift from obedience towards questioning gives it an unsettling edge that feels particularly relevant today.
There was also “The Shores of Melancholia”, a song that seemed to grow even heavier in the live setting. Its images of death, winter, lost hope and the fall of innocence create a landscape in which melancholy is not simply an emotion, but almost a place of its own. With Ophelia once again at its centre, the song turns that landscape into something beautiful, yet deeply unsettling. This was also one of those moments when Kjetil Nordhus seemed to feel every part of the piece as he delivered it. He gave the vocals everything he had. Force and vulnerability could be felt at once, while the fulfilment of finally being in Romania could be heard in his voice:
“This is the first time we play these songs outside Norway.
It’s amazing to be so far from Norway and feel at home!”.
The musicians around him were every bit as convincing, each one adding something essential without ever turning the performance into a display of individual virtuosity. The songs remained at the core, but there was enough movement within them to make the arrangements feel alive on stage.
When I wrote my review of the third part of “A Dark Poem”, I asked:
“How much can a band still disturb the familiar ground after more than three decades of making music?”.
Now I find myself asking a different question: how much can songs move you when you hear them brought to life on stage?
The answer, at least for that evening, seemed to be: quite a lot. I am sure they moved many of us. And I do feel sorry for those who could not make it to the event. There were so many moments when I saw people completely caught up in the sound, just as there were moments when younger members of the audience seemed to be discovering, perhaps for the first time, what the band created all these years.
Wherever Green Carnation go next, I have little doubt that there will be people willing to follow.
But Once the Music Falls Silent, Another Question Remains: When Will It Happen Again?
That was another question I took home with me. Even though the sets were generous, I cannot shake the feeling that I would have liked more. Perhaps that is part of what makes an evening like this a successful one. The certainty is that I will not part ways with Bucharest Prog Day or the bands that took the stage anytime soon.
Till next time.
Bucharest Prog Day II [25 September 2026]
© Valentin “Dieratte” Diaconescu [See The Art]
