Sadness

Danteferno (Godhead)
by Chaz Thorndike

Sometimes these things come from out of nowhere. A mediocre name, a mediocre cover, a mediocre label – I’m not really expecting more than something amazingly nondescript to seep from my speakers. The title track opens with looping layers of a woman’s voice, fading in and out like a small group of not-quite-substantial angels floating above a deathbed. Added to that is your traditionally heavy guitar line, chug-chug, like a shotgun being loaded, and some oh-so-scary guy whispering something sinister in a deep, breathy voice. The chorus comes in after almost two minutes of this rather forumlaic gunk, and countering the almost hardcore roar is… check the credits… yes, it’s ex-Celtic Frost member Martin Eric Ain on backing vocals and co-producing with Voco Faux-Pas (Young Gods, Celtic Frost, Coroner).

Now that you have my attention, are you going to build into something of interest? The answer is yes. Before the three-minute mark passed, I was hooked. Simple horror piano, mountainous powerchords, gongs, timpanis, bellowing melodies like those you might expect from a mountain tavern filled with burly, drunk warriors. The lyrics are about as profound as “Mary Had A Little Lamb” (why does it take two or more people to write such drivel?), but are you going to tell them? Song after song blasts into the room, each almost losing my interest before undergoing a majestic change – soaring through snowy skies, mutterings of battles and lurking evils, and returning to choruses of time-hardened men.

Closer examination of the lyrics (i.e. reading them at all) proves to be a mistake. Discussing the origins of the universe by repeatedly growling “Go to the entrails of the world” just doesn’t further my respect for their knowledge base. I’m sure whatever meaning there might be was just lost in translation. Ah, but the musical context, the atmosphere, is truly awe-inspiring. Innovative and beautiful without losing its guttural strength or brute heaviness.