Septicflesh - Titan (2014)

I'm a sucker for symphonic death and black metal arrangements when produced and performed accordingly, so it's been a real trip over these past few Septicflesh albums as they continued to forge ahead and transform the largely synthesized operatics of their old material into genuine orchestrated escape. Granted, I still cling dearly to 90s records like In the Nightside Eclipse, Ophidian Wheel, Passage Lepaca Kliffoth and so forth, where there just wasn't the budget and exposure for the labels to front out the cash for the 'real deal', but having a genuine host of musicians does carry the benefit of a more vivacious stereo sound, and richer intricacy to all the individual strings, horns, woodwinds and percussion. Although a divisive effort in some corners, The Great Mass achieved for me the peak of marrying those exotic Middle Eastern aesthetics redolent of To Mega Therion or Theli with simple, dense, effective riff construction and broad, resonant guttural vocals which catapulted me into new visions of antiquity.

This is bombastic, sweeping music, often of the Wagnerian school, or perhaps the more brazen of the Mediterranean composers, no doubt a massive inspiration for Christos Antoniou, the band's resident composer. There is plenty of attention to detail, though the rhythm guitar components are strikingly simplistic as they shift from the pummeling chord progressions that dominated The Great Mass to tremolo picked passages that seek to cycle the Greeks full circle to the original death metal that influenced them in the mid 90s (featured prominently in tunes like "The Order of Dracul"). These are of course mixed within a modern, melodic context...Septicflesh is not a band that has shied away from the technological imperatives of the recording industry, and that's going to provoke endless enmity from the old school stalwarts who want Mental Funeral, Dawn of Possession and/or The Mortal Throne of Nazarene over and over and over and over again unto endless redundancy, but while I wouldn't outright preclude the possibility of approaching the symphonic death from a more 'filthy' vector, I just don't imagine Septicflesh and Season of Mist are going to shell out the big $ for an album that sounds like it was recorded in Spiros' garage. Not at this point in time.

What it all boils down to, is that the last three full-length albums moved me, some songs more than others, but in general they brought such new life into a band that had really been starting to slack off near the end of the 90s. Upon first hearing the Titan samples, I was apprehensive that Septicflesh had unraveled into the jumbled, chaotic mess that their neighbors Fleshgod Apocalypse have been trying to sort through ever since decided they'd become the fastest symphonic extreme metal act on the seven continents. But hearing those same sequences in the context of the full 45 minute experience, they gel together and make a lot more sense. That's not to imply there aren't misfires here, because a number of symphonic sequences and riffing patterns border on the lamentably generic, but there is no question for me of the love and effort the Greeks placed into assembling these songs, which are more or less a more 'harried' and complex followup for The Great Mass, with a greater note count from both the orchestra and the guitars, in a comparable framework. The symphonics evoke everything from belligerent mythic warfare suites to cheesy haunted house organs, but the guitar writing is just so much more focused and important to the 'fore' of the production than the aforementioned Italians who just saturate, saturate, saturate the compositions into sheer suffocation.

Special credit goes to Fotis Benardo, who on the surface performs his double bass rhythms and blasts with the same mechanic fortitude we'd expect out of Polish death titans Vader and Behemoth, but seems to have a knack for exploring grooves and fills that immediately draw my ears to the snap of his skills in lieu of the swelling choirs and atmospheres riding above them all. I think it's so difficult for a drummer to stand out on this sort of disc, and he does it. Elsewhere, the guitars deserve praise for imbuing some spikier little melodies (akin to early Septicflesh) in among the sliding octave chords and chugs that the band has continued to develop, while Seth's growls achieve that same impermeable gruffness they had on past works (a good thing, because while his bass tone is audible, it doesn't feel terribly important to the work as a whole). As for the City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra, they deliver precisely what you'd expect here, a level of bombast that would quite easily sweep the entire death metal mechanism beneath the rug if it weren't so carefully pieced together in production. The riffs are decent, but not so blindingly interesting that they can compare with the rising and falling tides of strings and operatic choirs.

If I had a major complaint here, it's that for much of the playtime, Septicflesh are merely treading on ground that they had already mastered with the previous three albums. There are probably technical details, processes in the writing and recording prowess that have changed, but having an orchestra at your disposal gives you almost infinite capacity with which to experiment. To explore. Just think of the wide range of ethnic and aesthetic versatility in film scores? The Greeks sadly 'go all out Godzilla' through almost the entire track list, which might have seemed novel and acceptable years ago but is starting to dull the blade. I'd love if they would further embrace their imaginations, because frankly even an older record like Ophidian Wheel seems more inspired than this. You hear a few hints of change, like the woozy and weird intro to "Ground Zero" with the punctuated clean guitars and ghostly wails; but in summation, it's all more of the same that we've gleaned across all the post millennium Septicflesh releases, only a little more labyrinthine and involved. The tunes here, while solid and often excited, have not stuck to me the way a "Pyramid God" did, or Hollenthon's "Y Draig Goch". Titan is a pretty good album, worth my money, but I don't want to hear it again in, say, 2017. 'We've done this, let's move on.' Here's hoping they've shaken this evolutionary phase out of their systems and will ensure that the future once again belongs to the brave.

Verdict: Win [8/10] (your soil will have our seed)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Communion (2008)

The 21st century Septic Flesh, which takes its sweet time plotting and refining its Gothic death metal legacy into blazing, unforgettable hymns of eloquent brutality and extravagance, has continued to scale in quality which each consecutive release. Sumerian Daemons went beyond a just recompense for the seasoned Greeks' sole stumbling block (Revolution DNA), and through Communion, they've honed and polished their modus operandi to new, streamlined heights with even better balanced and catchier songwriting than nearly any of their back catalog, and the one exception, Ophidian Wheel, simply can't match the stunning production values here; rich and fulfilling, dark and exotic, an impeccable median between modernism and antiquity.

Communion is, at its core, a celebration of all of the band's previous iterations, a hybrid of Goth and death and doom, with an undercurrent of weighted grooves and searing, longing melodies that even succeeds in one-upping Revolution DNA at its own game. The architecture is truly extraordinary, with each track providing both refreshing thrills and memorable compositions that the listener will be constantly rewarded with. The orchestration is perfectly laid out behind the central chug and churn so as to rob it of ever succumbing to ennui, and the guttural vocals and choirs incessantly struggle with one another as if a grudge match of the seraphic and unholy, with that same Far Eastern melodic mysticism bands like Therion and Celtic Frost once tapped into during their primes. Some might balk at the Greeks' constant use of chugging, prevalent low end guitars here, but I can assure you that they are all means to a glorious, mighty end that excuses their cultural primacy.

Fuck, even the COVER of this album won't let you forget it. A paean of old. A patient, pagan beast. Staring.

The hooks are immediate here, with "Lovecraft's Death" ensnaring the listener with its tide of male and female choirs, layered bark and rasp, incendiary melodic glaze, double bass barrage, and the roiling, thickness of its muted substrate. The horns cut straight through, conjuring images of the fell empires, mad Arabs and arcane abominations implicit in the titular author. But then, just as quickly, Septic Flesh have changed up the formula with their tribute to Egypt's jackal faced death deity, "Anubis", which opens with dreary, memorable clean guitars before the sailing, desert melodies ensues. The title track receives merit for its chaotic surge into one of the more belligerent, ominous bridges on the album, just after the minute mark, in which Fotis Benardo beats the living fuck out of his kit while cautionary orchestration bleats out in the background and Spiros' vocals grumble like an earthquake. A few further tracks mirror this formula ("We the Gods", "Babel's Gate"), but there is further deviation as the band crank out a couple cuts in the mold of A Fallen Temple, Gothic tinged death/doom elegies like "Sunlight Moonlight" and "Narcissus".

Hell, they even one-up Revolution DNA with a similar creation called "Sangreal" which sows the same, accessible seeds of sharper, clean vocals over driving rock chords, but then manages to tilt back the scale with its brutal bridge. The one area in which I didn't find myself completely drawn in to the album was the lyrics, which often feel a bit cliche and simplistic. For example, their tribute to H.P. Lovecraft plays like a potpourri of fanboy references rather than allusion of truly obscure horror which the man deserves. Only the final lines 'you stared at the abyss/you'll never rest in peace' feel even remotely poignant. "We the Gods", "Anubis" and "Sunlight/Moonlight" also feel rather half-assed. It's not that I can't appreciate the simplicity of the images, but I too often felt that the music itself was more poetic than the words. However, as I've been reminded many times by fellow metal fans that they pay attention to lyrics about as often as delinquent medical bills, I suppose this is not the most capacious of gripes. And in every other category, Communion is one of this band's highlights, a sensor staring into both the future and the past.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.25/10] (you speak your words loud)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Sumerian Daemons (2003)

A symphonic death metal dream come true? An ailing, once exotic artist's much needed return to form? Sumerian Daemons is both of these things and more, as Greeks Septic Flesh return to the values that amplified the resonance of classics like Mystic Places of Dawn and Ophidian Wheel. After taking a turn for the worse with their Gothic and industrial-imbued Revolution DNA, Sotiris Vagenas and the Antoniou brothers decided to take a 180 from that Hop Topic friendly terrain to what they do best: crushing, atmospheric death metal endowed with heavy use of operatic vocal arrangements and a distinctly Gothic/doom tinge. Yet, for all that, Sumerian Daemons does not abandon the band's incessant desire for progression, nor does it lack the 'modernist' aesthetic that its predecessor was mildly (and unsuccessfully) hinting at.

This is easily one of the better produced works of Septic Flesh, with a ton happening below the surface, and all of it captured in the amber of studio gloss without overwhelming the listener. The band return to using the operatic vocals of Natalie Rassoulis, but she has never sounded better on any of their works. FINALLY, they have mixed her appropriately against the music, and even though I might like the songs on Ophidian Wheel a fraction more than these, she certainly is nowhere near as overbearing. There are outright, sweeping dark classical segments here like "Behold...the Land of Promise", "Magic Loves Infinity" and the intro to "Faust", but what's more, they have incorporated her straight into some of the crushing, aggressive death metal tracks as just another layer of their sweltering atmospherics. You still have a nice array of guitar effects, with some of the dreary, doom laden chorus mixed into the more forceful mutes and blasts. Did I mention blasts? Yes, there is a higher per capita of blasting here than any prior release from the band, but to be truthful, these were some of my least favorite parts of the record. Good to have the variation in there, but the accompanying riffs were often slightly 'meh'.

So, it's the most 'brutal' of all Septic Flesh albums, but what's more important is that they have paced this so well, with obvious peaks and valleys of archaic emotion and modern finesse. Those who were heavily into the Gothic/death accessibility of A Fallen Temple will undoubtedly like the sailing, depressive "Infernal Sun", while those seeking the industrial ingredients of the previous album will fall over "Mechanical Babylon", which is somehow less lame than almost all of Revolution DNA combined, even if it's just stock industrial metal. Other experimental tracks exist here, highly curious and atmospheric, like "Red Code Cult" and "When All is None" which are both pretty tight. But then, if you just want your shit bowled over, you've got "Unbeliever" or "Sumerian Daemons" itself. The electronics, death metal growls, symphonic ingredients and other elements are all seamlessly combined into this hostile, brilliant structure that often takes a step back or so to truly appreciate.

Ultimately, it's another damn amazing notch in the band's crown, successful in combining the band's Chaostar compositional style into the potent ballast of 90s Septic Flesh. There are a few tunes I like slightly less than others, and a number of guitar lines that, if extracted from the writhing, cybersymphonic mass, don't hold up by themselves. That said, there are so many little distractions in these songs that one is unlikely to pay close attention to the riffs alone, and the Greeks had returned with a vengeance here that I doubt anyone was expecting. Also, though I don't think this new logo has the same appeal as their classy originals (1991-98), it's at least a step up over the lazy 'not a logo' on Revolution DNA. Sumerian Daemons is not my favorite record by the band, since the songs lack some of the distinction found elsewhere, but it's a positive re-affirmation of one of the strongest Hellenic extreme metal entities, and surrounds you with antiquarian imagery, occult egotism, the circuitry of destruction and damnation.

Verdict: Epic Win [9/10] (the gates are now aligned)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Forgotten Paths (The Early Days) (2000)

The decision to brand the Forgotten Paths (The Early Days) fan package with the same leering mutant and awkward, amateur logo that adorned Revolution DNA was perhaps not the best of ideas, for the material on this re-issue of the band's 1991 demo Forgotten Path is anything but relative to that disappointing modernization. This is a pre-Temple of the Lost Race Septic Flesh, lacking even the slight progressive and Gothic embellishments of the EP, but it's also damn good demo material which exhibits the strong foundation that they were building off as they veered into more melancholic territory. Crushing, simplistic death metal with strong songwriting, versatility and brutality in spades, not to mention the most bloodied vocal performance of Spiros Antoniou, redolent of Martin van Drunen in his heyday (1989-1992).

This is pure, groove-laden fare which owes an obvious nod to Celtic Frost, but will also titillate fans of earlier Asphyx (the van Drunen albums), Tiamat (up to Clouds), and Therion (the first two albums). Though they do incorporate a creepy, schizophrenic intro and outro, the pure atmospheric moments one identifies with Septic Flesh are constrained to the tolling doom bell that inaugurates "Curse of Death", or the tranquil segue which bisects "Unholy Ritual". The rest is a veritable riff-fest of morbid monstrosity, led by the superb atmospheric chugging of "Power of the Dark", and the almost punkish swagger of "Melting Brains". The solos here are fairly loose, but the rhythm guitars beneath them are usually worth the price of admission alone. The songs I already mentioned move at a steady, mid pace, but the band quickens the pace for the excellent "Curse of Death", a furious and refined marriage of old school muted bloodstreams and layered, melancholic chords. "Forgotten Path" itself is another worth mentioning, an epic bludgeoning through a number of tempos.

To help round out the celebration of the decade-old demo, the band has included a trio of live tracks recorded in 1991: "Power of the Dark", "Forgotten Path" and "Melting Brains". They do sound about as rough as one might expect, but in summation, not at all bad. The vocals have a tremulous resonance to them, and you can hear just about everything important, with the crisp and raw live distortion charming in of itself. The recording might not have been great, but the performance clearly was, so it's a worthy testimony that the band were potent and promising in not only the studio, but upon the stage. The only thing that's crappy here is the choice of cover and logo, though to be fair, the original demo was just a black/white illustration lifted from some classical source, and the original logo is a mess, lacking the character of that they chose for their first four albums (and would inevitable return to). Anyway, this is really good for a demo. The songs might not have the same intricacy as Temple of the Lost Race, but they still hold much appeal, especially as the old school, ominous sounds of the 90s are back in vogue.

Verdict: Win [8/10]

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Revolution DNA (1999)

By the close of the 90s, all three of the 'major' Greek metal acts had made large alterations in their chosen sounds. Nightfall had gone from their melancholic Gothic/black roots into a sort of accessible, fetish rock crunch, while Rotting Christ was writing the most arguably mainstream material of their career (though it was still quite good). Septic Flesh, too, would incur a larger transformation than any of their prior full-lengths with Revolution DNA, an effort that drops most of the sultry, stunning Goth/death and doom of previous works in favor of something more tangibly radio oriented, a hybrid of modern melodic death, dark rock and a minor transfusion of electronica. While the earlier albums had their roots firmly in the ancient past, Revolution DNA was the Septic Flesh of the 'future'. Only this future did not look so bright...

Let me be clear, though: this is not a complete 180-degree turnabout from what the band had been exploring with tracks like "The Eldest Cosmonaut" off A Fallen Temple. They've dropped out the female vocals in favor of a wider palette of male shades, about of half of which are the familiar Spiros Antoniou grunts and the other half...well, a blend of mid-ranged cleans and then some more nasally, agitated tones reminiscent of Jonathan Davis of Korn (used in "Science", "Radioactive", and several other tracks). You'll still hear a lot of the band's trumpeting, sailing guitar melodies ("DNA", "Revolution"), and once in awhile the lilting, doom sequences that made efforts like Mystic Places of Dawn and Ophidian Wheel so memorable ("Arctic Circle", "Age of New Messiahs"). Parallels to Paradise Lost exist here, and many of the songs have a similar ethos of potent power chords and melancholic melodies redolent of One Second, or the later (and far better) Symbol of Life.

But then there are the tracks of a more 'experimental' nature, but not really experimental. Gone are the operas of Ophidian Wheel and A Fallen Temple, which had been transplanted to their new side project Chaostar (not to be confused with the song "Chaostar" on this very album). The band flirts with campy electronica and robot voices in "Android", which is about 50% exactly what you might expect with that title, and then 50% atmospheric, open chords with black snarls and repeated lyrical motifs. "Telescope" is like a mix of Pink Floyd and The Kovenant. Rinse and repeat that for "Last Stop to Nowhere", but with more of an industrial undercurrent. Then there is "Dictatorship of the Mediocre", a lamentable groove metal track which is perhaps all too aptly titled, and the worst here or possibly on any Septic Flesh record. Not all of these deviants are necessarily bad songs, mind you, but neither are they sufficiently memorable. I certainly expect Septic Flesh to attempt such mutations, I just expected them to be better than this.

The production is bold, brazen and modern, like many of the other Gothic/metal bastardizations of the times (The Kovenant, Theatre of Tragedy, and so forth), with the melodies perhaps a bit too piercing over the rhythm section. I can't say I enjoy most of the vocals...Spiros sounds fine where he belches out his gutturals, but the cleans don't offer much in their crusade to sound all schizoid and disaffected. Most of all, though, I just found myself clinging to whatever songs were closest to the band's poignant past. I once enjoyed this more than I do today, but there is treacherously little staying power. A few fine moments here, like the opening moment of "Science" or the soaring, resonant bliss of "Little Music Box", sure. But as high strung and 'modern' as the band sounds throughout Revolution DNA, the album seems to have become increasingly less interesting across the years, where something like The Kovenant's Animatronic still sounds quirky and catchy (if incredibly cheesy) to date. Ultimately, this is the worst and the least of Septic Flesh's works, but rest assured that they wouldn't dwell on these shores of possibility for long.

Verdict: Indifference [6.25/10] (a beautiful vase without a flower)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - A Fallen Temple (1998)

A Fallen Temple might not be the prize steed in the capacious stable of Septic Flesh, but it's nevertheless a fine followup to Ophidian Wheel, and maintained the band's quest for intellectual and musical refinement. Somber, eloquent eulogies clothed in the dim haze of brutality. Gothic genetics bound to a sinking hull of archaic atrocity. If there's one problem with the album, though, it's that there is a noticeable fragmentation between three substrata. Where Ophidian Wheel balanced itself between powerful, melodic death/doom pieces and a handful of eerie, operatic vignettes, A Fallen Temple furthers breaks itself into a neoclassical sequence, a handful of exhumations predating Mystic Places of Dawn, and a newer, mildly more trendy facade which runs congruent to the Gothic metal growing popular in Europe during the late 90s.

This last category is most evident through "The New Order - Brotherhood of the Fallen Knights" which is highly redolent of something Sweden's Therion would have written around the same time: catchy but simple, chugging guitar lines and overpowering, epic melodies laced with a mix of gruff and clean vocals. The strong gutturals are still present, and there's still a stark sense of 'heaviness' about it, but the male cleans are not really a strong point. "The Eldest Cosmonaut" was chosen as the lead-in single here, given its own video and EP release, and it makes a lot of sense, as the creepy, ghostlike impressions of female vocalist Natalie Rassoulis and the haunted gleam of the pianos and ascending, lilted guitar lines are quite distinct. Still, I got the feel that the male cleans were once again lackluster, not really standing out above the guitars, while Natalie seems to stand out too far, an issue I had with several of the tracks on Ophidian Wheel. Still, for these few faults, the songs are memorable enough, and joined with the similar, soaring "Marble Smiling Face" they hint at the band's plausible potential within a more mainstream market.

Twin mirrors blue
Cold lakes concealing fire
Red coral hair
A dazzling ruby dome

Then there are the "Underworld" segments, which are begun here and unfortunately finished on The Eldest Cosmonaut EP. A mistake, really, as I'd prefer to have them all gathered in the same place, even if that would have stretched the total album to about 70 minutes (it's about 55). "Act I" is a jarring, schizoid sequence that feels like what might occur if Diamanda Galas were to track a Castlevania sequel...and the madhouse male vocals and female screaming build towards an appreciable asylum with a reek of primeval theater about its gates. "End of the Circle - Act II" is more potent and swelling musically, with its rousing and hammering orchestration that reminds me of Les Miserables, ambitious to say the least from Christos Antoniou and his gangly band of ghouls. Both of these acts are entertaining in their own right, but extensive enough a deviation that they feel rather 'outside' the rest of A Fallen Temple. Basically, this was the birth of their side project Chaostar, which strove strictly in these idiosyncratic channels. The "Underworld" sequence (both here and on the EP) were even strung together as a sort of demo.

Then we arrive at that last remainder of the album, the re-recordings of classic Septic Flesh material from the wonderful Temple of the Lost Race EP (1991). They don't sound a hell of a lot different, nor are they far better produced, but the band have shifted about a few of the synth tones, made the leads more bluesy ("Setting of the Two Suns"), and frankly I like these versions just about as much as the originals. All four of those tracks are present here, with one of them being renamed from "Another Reality" to "The Crypt", tuned differently and in my opinion more ominous and memorable than its original incarnation. It's sad to think that this is actually the best segment of A Fallen Temple, and you've guessed by now that the title is in tribute to that formative work, but the value is naturally diminished if you've somehow already got the EP. At least the re-recordings are somewhat better 'fleshed out'.

Lastly, the Greeks have provided a more clashing version of "The Eldest Cosmonaut" closing out the album, a "Dark Version", with the female vocals abrasive to the point of being ungodly annoying, but that really doesn't deserve mention here as it is the one entirely unnecessary and shitty misstep of note. The vocal mix throughout the sum of the album is far from praiseworthy, but here it escalated into a crass annulment of my attention span. Otherwise, the Flesh have once more brought the goods, with a number of their signature melodies and fathomless dark poems that belong on a highlight reel with the tastier bits of Esoptron and Ophidian Wheel. One does get the impression that the Greeks were searching for some new investment of their time, which would in fact manifest in TWO investments (Chaostar and the far more trendy melodic death inherent in Revolution DNA), but there's enough of that rich, pungent death/doom soil here to live up to the titular imagery.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (let me heal your wounds with mine)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - The Eldest Cosmonaut EP (1998)

The Eldest Cosmonaut EP was released as a companion to the strong and alluring 1998 full-length A Fallen Temple, perhaps to serve as a promotional tool, but more likely to contain all of the overflow from that album that might have worn out its welcome. Then again, the album itself was only 54 minutes long...and it would have been much more prudent to include the "Underworld" Act III and finale there with the earlier chapters, and never mind ever releasing this, but the band and Holy Records probably thought this was a sweet treat for the fans, especially since it was one of those 'multi-media' pieces that included a video. In this case, "The Eldest Cosmonaut" video is pretty crappy, the standard shots of band jamming while the female vocalist sits on her duff screaming from some industrial closet, her male counterpart standing dignified in the dark.

Really, the usual egocentric ablation that most videos are born from, and further evidence that the overwhelming majority of such media outlets are, in fact, retarded. The song itself is decent, it suffers from some of the same overbearing female vocal volume that plagued Ophidian Wheel, but the riffs and gutturals create an appropriate, depressing miasma flush with their evolution over the past three albums. That said, this is also on the album, in a non-edit form. The true centerpiece here is the extensive "Underworld Part III", an extensive neo-classical epic that features both male and female vocals, a Septic Flesh opera that not only foreshadows the members' darkwave, classic side project Chaostar, but was actually used as a demo reel for said entity (along with the rest of the "Underworld" sequence). Christos Antoniou was always interested in branching out into the field of composer, something he has accomplished through Chaostar (and the pure orchestral bonus disc of The Great Mass), but Ophidian Wheel and A Fallen Temple were the real turning point, where the dream was manifest into reality.

The rest of the EP is hit or miss, fist with the pure orchestral conclusion of "Underworld", and then the Gothic metal extravaganza "Woman of the Rings" which is redolent of what Therion were doing from about 1995-2000. Simple, doom derived riffs adorned in clean male vocals and a lucid, dreamy efflorescence, with occasional and not exactly abrupt excursions into the glorious and guttural death of the full-length. Ultimately, this is not a great song, and since you've already got "The Eldest Cosmonaut" elsewhere, much of the EP feels like a waste. The exceptions are the "Underworld" chapters, which belong with their brethren and not in underwhelming isolation, so all of the points I award this are strictly for those. Also, this EP looks fucking hideous.

Verdict: Indifference [5/10] (no tombs can seal me)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Ophidian Wheel (1997)

It would take a long time (almost 15 years) for Septic Flesh to top their third album Ophidian Wheel, and I say this as someone who has enjoyed, or outright worshiped nearly every full-length they have invoked with the one exemption of Revolution DNA, which simply did not have the staying power of its brethren. This is one of those rare, exotic and fluid efforts which manages to bridge the genres of death, doom and even Gothic elements into a nigh unforgettable dichotomy of drudging aggression, melodic glaze and vocal diversity. Where Mystic Places of Dawn and Esoptron once dared to tread, Ophidian Wheel travels further, and to this day it remains one of the finer Greek works of any extreme metal genre.

The nexus of its strength relies in the songwriting, wrought of both variation and memorable magnitude. The album's opener, "The Future Belongs to the Brave" (what a title) opens with a straight gallop of descending mutes below Spiros Antoniou's gruff, growling pipes, but then proceeds to open into this vista of dark, ominous synthesizers, baleful grooves and operatic female vocals that follow a doom-laden guitar melody. If there's one complaint I have about the production of the album, it's that these female vocals (courtesy of Natalie Rassoulis) are simply too loud in the actual mix. They're nicely layered, skillfully executed, and feel entirely natural in the Gothic bowels of the band's, but the sheer level is overbearing, especially here and the tracks "Shamanic Rite" or "Geometry in Static", in which they are so spiked and frontal in the verse that it feels like someone screwed up and accidentally mixed an operetta over the Septic Flesh record.

I have swum against rivers of fallacy
Chaotic symmetry, and have returned
From the point of weakness
To the root of triumph

But when the music is this disconsolate and beautiful, the gripe becomes all too minor, and I swiftly learned to either phase out during those seconds or just turn them down, and there are some points on the album in which they are almost mixed perfectly, like the gorgeous drift of "Phallic Litanies" which is about as good as a Gothic/doom piece could get; or the fascinating and malevolent "Tartarus". The centerpiece of the album, though, would be the burgeoning and blissful guitar duo of Sotiris Vagenas and Christos Antoniou, whose dual melodies catapult "Razor Blades of Guilt", "Heaven Below" and the title track into infinity and make it sound dreadfully simple. The drums and bass are solid, though perhaps overshadowed by the guitars and vocals (both harsh and clean), and the band even manages to knock out a few flighty and elegant instrumental segues in "Microcosmos" and "Enchantment": fully orchestrated, theatrical and heavy on the synthesizer.

The one song I don't get a huge thrill out of would be "On the Topmost Steps of Earth", which also happens to be the longest here (almost 7 minutes). The bridge is quite mesmerizing, but the riffs leading up to it just don't bear that same, depressing gleam of desperation. That said, just about everything else on Ophidian Wheel is like a solvent, abysmal ambrosia that lovingly wends its immortal fruit into the listener's conscience. If you can excuse its few minor setbacks, it easily stands the test of time, in the company of comparable European death and doom epics of the 90s, like Therion's masterpiece Lepaca Kliffoth, Amorphis' Tales from the Thousand Lakes, or Paradise Lost's stunning sophomore Gothic, which in my opinion are only favorable due to their superior productions and mildly stronger songwriting. With The Great Mass now available, a brilliant album that hasn't left my car stereo or iPod rotation in months, I can no longer deem Ophidian Wheel my favorite from this particular band, but it's unquestionably worth hearing, owning, and adulating, sweet and sour tears rent from ancient soil to kiss the listener in ecstatic thanatopsis.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.25/10] (bring forth the eclipse)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Esoptron (1995)

Esoptron is yet another bright example of Greek finery, though its a misnomer to label anything this brooding and sultry as 'bright'. With Mystic Places of Dawn, Septic Flesh had proven that they could immerse their audience into a lush miasma of affliction, and with its successor, that audience is once again soaked upon the torrents of tragedy. If there's a difference, though, it's that Esoptron has a mildly more accessible construction to it, a collection of simple, sailing melodies heavily processed to create the illusion of some spiral down into the netherworld. Nightmares so beautiful that their drudging backbone and guttural narration cannot out-gravitate the Gothic glare of the guitar tone and the synthesized instruments spun across the album's brief, admittedly cheesy interludes.

These do serve to break up the effectiveness of the longer compositions, and I can't say they were necessary, but they also provide the more experimental elements of the sophomore, like the droning, cavernous industrial wash of "Breaking the Inner Seal"; the tonal curiosity and glittering chimes of "Astral Sea"; the flighty flutes and pianos of "Celebration". Otherwise, the album is almost fully composed of slower, numbing elegies that counterbalance the low end of the vocals with the heavily-effected guitar tone: from the truly trawling "So Clean, So Empty" and "Rain" to the more pick-me-up overtures of "Esoptron" and "Succubus Priestess", both of which erupt into straightforward but forgettable charges at their cores. In my opinion, the 9 minute closer "Narcissism" is the true highlight of the album, foreshadowing some of the brilliant melodic elements that would follow on the epic Ophidian Wheel. Despite its bulk, the mix of whispered and brutal vocals and the dynamic variation woven throughout create a more fulfilling encounter than any of the shorter pieces. Though the elegant "Ice Castle" and "Burning Phoenix" come pretty close in terms of quality.

I can't say that the album had the same, stunning effect on me as Mystic Places of Dawn, but it tries, and if it suffers anywhere that would be the production and the lagging behind of some of the guitar notation. It seems that whenever the band aren't coursing through one of their huge melodies, the songs seem to just sulk about, threatening to cast the shadows of ennui in place of their typical, effective sorrow. Part of this is just that the guitar levels feel a bit uneven with the tinny drums, and often blend too closely into the keyboards. Mystic Places was hardly a bastion of production standards itself, but I felt like that album had a sadder, more disturbing effect on me, while this often seems too strangely enthusiastic about its doom and gloom. However, it's still well worth hearing, functioning on many of the same strengths, from its atmosphere to its lyrical fortitude, and captures a lot of that early to mid 90s appeal that many of today's younger initiates fail to reproduce with their monotonous vocals and drowning reverb.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (the sceptre was always in my hand)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Mystic Places of Dawn (1994)

Having already established themselves as one of the most unique and refreshing new faces in European death metal with their Temple of the Lost Race EP, the years were only going to be kind to Septic Flesh, not to mention their listeners. Mystic Places of Dawn was an astounding debut which easily surpassed that 1991 release in both scope and quality, a solemn excursion into places mythological and fantastic, an atmospheric descent of death and doom freckled by the glint of brighter synthesizers, lyrical evocations of the ancient and historical, and the drawling guttural brutality of Spiros Antoniou. It would be a fair comparison to measure this album up against the formative works of the higher profile death/doom hybrids coming out of England (Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride, Anathema, etc). The Greeks are not always labeled as such, but Mystic Places of Dawn paints the same, downward slope to sorrow with an even broader, atmospheric brush.

This album is a monster of melancholy, and while it hovers at around 55 minutes, a substantial duration for death metal in its day, I highly recommend listening all at once, for the ebb and flow of the material seems almost too much to contain in just a fraction of its sum composition. The process here usually involves simplistic, driving or dredging guitar lines sauced in a cheesy but ever memorable topping of tinny synthesizers, and the haunting lamentations of guitar melodies filtered through the perfect level of reverb and effect. Don't be mistaken to think this is always being performed at a crawl, because a number of tunes like "Return to Carthage" or the title track thunder along with the same velocity of their death metal peers. However, it's a general rule that the band will segue into some eloquent, doom dripping passage at some point, even in the faster fare, so there is no reason to fear some dearth of variation.

Certain tracks are admittedly 'prettier' than others, like the dreamy sequences of synthesizer bliss that adorn "The Underwater Garden", or the pure synthesizer finale of "Mythos - Part I: Elegy" and "Part II: Time Unbounded", but Septic Flesh were one of the better bands to incorporate keyboards into the genre, alongside Finland's Amorphis, who also put out a rather stunning effort in the same year (the phenomenal Tales from the Thousand Lakes). That album had far better production than Mystic Places of Dawn, but the actual contrasts of melody and brutality are quite similar, taking into account the varied cultural subtext beneath the writing. This isn't quite so regal and glorious, mind you, but there is a far stronger sense of sadness suffused over the material. The listener gets a real feeling of ages creeping past, of civilizations risen and then fallen, as if one were to watch the gradual settling of Atlantis to the floor of the ocean, forgotten by all but legends...

As I hinted there, the actual mix of the debut is a bit lacking, not so much that it hinders the clarity of the music or the ultimate enjoyment of its contents, but just enough to give a slight air of amateurism. In fact, Temple of the Lost Race sounds to me superior, even if the actual songs are not. That said, its weighty and moody enough to appreciate despite this mild setback, and its in fine company with other Greek masterworks like Scarlet Evil Witching Black or Thy Mighty Contract, both of which have production values that many would scoff at. Actually, a better parallel would be drawn to the Nightfall sophomore, Macabre Sunsets, but that's chunkier and more annoying than Mystic Places. All told, though, the songwriting is consistently impressive, and Septic Flesh amply proved their importance as one of the finer atmospheric death metal acts the world over. To think that this isn't even their best...

Verdict: Epic Win [9/10] (landscapes of untold antiquity)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - Temple of the Lost Race EP (1991)

Though Septic Flesh is not a black metal band, the atmospheres created in their music conjure forth a similar, chilling aesthetic to their countrymen Rotting Christ or Nightfall. A pervasive gloom is experienced through most of their earlier recordings, as if crypts were yawning open to award the witness with both the stench of the lost and the treasures of the damned. Recent years have been all about the younger generation of bands attempting to recapture the depths of the early 90s using current studio configurations, but here was a band capable of creeping us out 20 years ago. Well ahead of their time. Foresight defined. Thus, as I'm bent on exploring the darker end of this ancient land's metal spectrum, I have decided upon their inclusion alongside the rest. 'Cheating', if you will, but it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.

Yes, Temple of the Lost Race was rather an anomaly for its day, and ample proof that the band has always been an overachiever. Curse their hides. The EP is extremely well produced for its times, with an impressive, rich guitar tone and some of the best, if understated bass playing in all of the death metal genre. Spiros Antoniou created a somber, flowing miasma beneath the rhythms and leads of his brother Christos (yes, another fraternal pairing akin to Rotting Christ) and Sotiris Vagenas. Spiros' accent gives a fairly unique spin on his vocals, but you can hear faint traces of early Pestilence, Therion or Aphyx in there. Synths are used liberally to concoct additional dimensions for tracks like "Another Reality", but the band is more than happy to just let the guitars do the talking for "Erebus", with its fluid, atmospheric solos; or the title track, which stands the test of time as one of their finest achievements.

Comparatively speaking, there is just so little redolent of this release. Perhaps some of the old Swedish stuff from Tiamat or Therion bleeds in, from about the same time, but there were not many precedents. To this point, death metal was largely a Florida or English institution with a few other countries throwing their hats into the arena, so for Septic Flesh to produce such a work was rather revolutionary. Solid double-bass techniques, apocryphal and mythological lyrics, memorable leads, brutal but intelligent vocals, and dark, meandering riffs from one of the best in the business. A promising start for a band who have never proven anything but (okay, exempting Revolution DNA). Well worth acquiring, however you must, if you're into any of their later works, from Mystic Places of Dawn to A Fallen Temple.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (the air is too thick to enter)

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Septic Flesh - The Great Mass (2011)

While I've always been partial to the earlier works of Septic Flesh (Mystic Places of Dawn through A Fallen Temple), there is no question that the Greeks have been on a major tear of late; their past two full-lengths Sumerian Daemons and Communion going viral, exploding their listener base exponentially. An incredible second wind for a career that was ailing by the turn of the century. Justifiable, of course, as the recent albums had immense production values and forceful, memorable songwriting, both of which continues here upon The Great Mass. But what separates this from its direct lineage would be the huge improvement in the band's ability to incorporate their worldly, symphonic elements.

Such an expansive interest was evident in Septic Flesh (Septicflesh, whatever) form their early years, in which the band incorporated female, operatic vocals and synthesized orchestras to positive effect, but The Great Mass escalates this marriage of instrumentation to a level previously achieved only by Therion in their prime, or Hollenthon's With Vilest of Worms to Dwell, and album quite similar to this one in potency and quality. The Great Mass flawlessly integrates the brutal death medium into the glaze of sweeping strings and percussion, evoking the gravitas of dead, ancient civilizations and forbidden rites through dynamic whorls and theatrical escalation. From the eerie and ethereal musings that inaugurate "The Vampire from Nazareth" to the massive, Gothic architecture of the finale "Therianthropy", the listener is cast through a climactic struggle of epic proportions.

I was initially concerned that the symphonic bombast might quickly overtake the core metallic elements, but I'm happy to relent that "A Great Mass of Death", "Mad Architect", and the magnificent "Five-Pointed Star" are loaded with guitar hooks, excellent drumming and Spiros' magnanimous growls. Not a single moment of this album feels imbalanced or imprecise. Whereas an album like Dimmu Borgir's latest Abrahadabra sacrifices guitar quality for its broadly painted classical overtures, Septic Flesh have discovered the precise ratio in which one half of its elated charms do not overtake the other, and written ten tracks straight down the line. I would not deign to choose a favorite, because I can't think of one that doesn't have some measure of rapture to offer the audience, but "Five-Pointed Star" and the steady, percussive roil of "The Undead Keep Dreaming" are particularly powerful, but the entirety is an experience well worth lavishing the coin upon and taking in a dark chamber.

Perhaps not every individual riff here is breathtaking, perhaps not every swell of orchestration truly immersible, but The Great Mass is well within the running as a metal album of the year contender. Where the last two efforts lacked some of the subtle, graceful doom of earlier records like The Ophidian Wheel, this actually serves as the perfect bridge between the various phases of the band's career (excluding the soppy melodeath drama of Revolution DNA). The Greeks put in a considerable amount of effort to this, and it has paid off like no one's fucking business. While it might fall a sliver shy of perfection, it's truly a culmination of the aesthetics they've been cultivating for over 20 years now; a richly evocative, mandatory sojourn to the occult fringe.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.75/10]

http://www.septicflesh.com/

Satyricon / Septic Flesh, Grand Ballroom @ the Regency Center, 2/10/09

Let me start off by saying that the Grand Ballroom at San Francisco's Regency Center is both a horrible and excellent place to see metal. The venue is a bit big, and never quite fills up, which can leave the sound a bit wanting. They also place their stacks up high and pointed down at the crowd from the sides of the stage, which means that if you're about forty feet back, you're going to get the best sound. Anyone standing front and center will be sorely disappointed.

The crowd at this show was as you might expect. Near-Juggalos in "corpse paint" and assorted Hot Topic wear lined up outside in the drizzle to catch a glimpse of Danny (Dani? Seriously?) Filth's areolas. There were even girls in the front row with glow-stick headbands on. What the fuck?

Anyway, my friends and I waded our way in through the veritable food court of lameness and took a spot stage right and far enough back for good sound. We had managed to find a kickass parking spot and get in right before the show started. Off to a good start.

Septic Flesh

Not being a fan of Septic Flesh previous to this show, I didn't really know what to expect from the Grecian Death Metallers. What I got was an absolute treat. You know how every band that plays before your favorite band can't ever quite live up to them? How you spend the opening sets counting songs and wishing they would go by just a bit faster? Not so with Septic Flesh, who managed to come out of the gates swinging, tight and technically spot on for a half an hour of symphonically charged, groove-laden death.

They were, sadly, playing to a tape of some sort, since they lacked a keyboard to accompany them. I was impressed, however, that they managed to stay so perfectly synchronized with the samples throughout the entire set. Not a missed beat to be had here.

The singer, one Spiros Antoniou, seemed to be channeling almost a 1980's hardcore punk vibe, with spastic hand movements and crazed facial expressions between bass riffs. The guitars were a bit low in the mix, and the bass thundered over everything else, when he bothered to stop fingering an invisible vagina in front of his face and play it.

I couldn't really say much about the contents of their set, not being familiar with the band until now. I know they played "Communion", "We The Gods", and some song where everybody chanted "BURN!" a lot. Good shit, though. The guy in the pit who looked just like John Locke from Lost (shirt off and all) seemed to enjoy it. I did, too, and I would happily see them again. It's a rare experience to be surprised by an unknown band, but Septic Flesh earned it.

Satyricon

My friends and I forced our way forward, braving untold amounts of hair extensions, platform boots, and goggles. Not to be denied our Norwegian black metal by a bunch of under-developed, over-fed retards, we managed to get about three people from the front. Satyricon came out to much fanfare and shouting of "MOTHER NORTH!"

"Repined Bastard Nation" is a good fucking way to open a Satyricon set. Satyr looked like some sort of fascist German rocker, all rigid fury and hawk-eyed stares. His trident mic stand looked like it was missing some corpses hanging off of the side, but it was plenty intimidating none the less. Frost is as insane as I imagined, and though Satyricon certainly isn't the best demonstration of his technical abilities, he plays live with a passion other black metal drummers would benefit to imitate.

Satyricon tore through their songs, one after another with barely a break between them. I am old enough now to enjoy a short, sweet live show, and I have no complaints. Their setlist consisted entirely of material from their last three albums, so the more traditional black metal will have to wait until their headlining tour this fall. "Die By My Hand" still doesn't quite grab me, but they seem to love playing it. Playing the opening three tracks from Now, Diabolical, a healthy smattering of their newest material, and a pair of Volcano's better songs gave me plenty of time to throw claws in the air and bang my head like I'm not going bald.

Satyr gives up guitar duty live to engage the crowd a little bit more, and he does so in the standard metal fashion. "HEY!" chants and calls for jumping are so fucking tired, I wish metal would just let that shit go. Save it for Manowar and Amon Amarth, guys, you're supposed to be all grim and frostbitten. Drunk people love to yell and jump around though, so I guess it works.

You can tell that Satyr is a bit remiss over losing his strings to the capable live band. He picks up an axe later in the set for "The Pentagram Burns", but also spends a fair amount of time watching the guitarists longingly (accusingly, too) and playing air guitar to his own riffs.

"Fuel For Hatred" closed Satyricon out strong. This song has long been a favorite of mine from the much-maligned Volcano, and hearing it live only reinforced my love. Satyricon all lined up at the front of the stage and bowed out, making special efforts to thank the crowd. Frost has 300 abs, I swear to you. That dude is cut.

Cradle of Filth

What, you think I stayed for Cradle of Filth? Hahahaha.