Mudvayne "L.D. 50" (2000)

 

As typical a Nu Metal band could get, somehow the depths of Mudvayne's debut record eluded me in my youth. No one could escape the maniacal assisted suicide anthem of Dig, a classic of the genre. Familiar with it, Death Blooms and a few others, I decided the deep dive was in order! Having now binged its downtrodden frustrations these past few weeks, I've unearthed a simultaneously intelligent and trope riddled record. Primarily just a curiosity for the times, I've enjoyed its offerings immensely.

Talking of tropes, the influence of Korn is undeniable. Obviously, syncopated guitars and the angsty, moody tone but more notably does Chad Gray emulate many of the quirky antics and painful inflections Jonathan Davis defined. It stands in contrast to his furious screams and vulnerably endearing clean singing that offers a refreshing individuality. He melds well with his fellow band mates, as musicians, they are clearly a step above their contemporaries when it comes to ability and creative execution.

A big takeaway from the attentive ears of a now seasoned listener is the technicality. Mudvayne were clearly flirting with ideas from Technical Death Metal, Jazz and polyrhythms. Bassist Ryan Martinie routinely counteracts the simplicity of dropped guitar riffs. With elegant, yet complicated finger work, high octave chord strikes and purposeful dissonance, a delight is revealed. His presence textures the music, adding dimension and stripping out dulling repetition where song structures retread riffs.

Also toying with time signatures and more ambitious syncopation, quite often will one hear brief echos of Meshuggah as stabbing guitar riffs jostle with unusual rhythms. This along with calmer moments, delivered by cold shimmering acoustic guitars, amount to a solid formation. On its journey, the ideas explored abridge Nu Metal with more musicality while compromising nothing. The result is a very distinctive sound, easy to cast aside by its tropes yet under the hood a trove of aggressive wonder.

With a depth of inspiration unfolding, L.D. 50 plays sweet and steady. Broken up by a handful of zany, ambiguous electronic interludes, its relentless metallic march is bridged to reinforce a maniacal tension even present in theme. So too do core songs offer occasional instrumental explorations Progressive and atmospheric in nature. With all these elements firing strong, its sixty eight minutes play exciting from front to back. I'm walking away from this astonished, the bands reputation deserves more.

Rating: 8.5/10

Gravediggaz "6 Feet Deep" (1994)

 

Unwittingly, I've uncovered Hip Hop's Horrorcore origins, a treasure trove of terror led by none other than RZA of the Wu-Tang Clan. United with The Undertaker, Grym Reaper, Gatekeeper and producer Prince Paul, this Rap quintet delve deep into life's dark sides. Graphic themes of death, suicide, murder, poverty and black suffering permeate. Both serious and comical, the latter gets punctuated by gruesome exacerbation of comic book horror tropes through verbal creativity. Its former sincerity makes use of thematic extremities to highlight the serious issues of street life.

I'd been aware of 6 Feet Deep's existence for decades. Despite an encouraging reputation, my playlist choices always gravitated to something else. Finally cracking the cookie, I'm overwhelmed by its fortunes. Slipping snugly into an early 90s Jazzy ruggedness, to many samples, flows and drum beats echo many favorite sounds, posing the tricky question of how it fits the tapestry. Warmer Southern tones turn up on Mommy What's A Gravedigga, 1-800 Suicide and Blood Brothers, the latter cruises on a chilling nightly tone with its shimmering pianos and danger lurking baseline.

Diary Of A Madman plays like a blueprint for what I know of Rap duo Jedi Mind Tricks, both beat and flows are uncanny. Many other songs conjure similar familiarity. A handful of verses spat akin to Ol' Dirty Bastard, and the occasional beat like Graveyard Chamber reek of Wu-Tang outtakes, perhaps leftovers from the era of RZA's Demo Tape. Recorded over the prior three years, overlaps with the nine are no surprise, yet Gravediggaz stand boldly apart with their own devilish identity.

The distinction is wild, leaning into theatrical cheesy horror tropes, grim lyrics get cut keenly into its topicality. A depth of cultural references finds its linage in the unsavory side of American cultural history. Experimenting with unhinged wordings and maniacal cadences on occasion, the music ebbs and flows between tongue in cheek humor and deadly frankness with more conventional cuts. Prince Paul's contributions certainly serve that convention, with RZA and other producers offering up the looser screws. All in all, 6 Feet Deep is an essential experience if a fan of Hip Hop's darker leanings.

Rating: 8/10

Old Sorcery "Dragon Citadel Elegies" (2022)

 

In concluding the "castle trilogy", Finnish composer Old Sorcery masters their mysterious craft. Perhaps one to be labeled a modern Dungeon Synth classic, Dragon Citadel Elegies culminates its finest aesthetics for an epic adventure. Woven with elements of Fantasy, Dark Ambience and soft touches of Berlin School electronics, a diverse arsenal of instruments converge on glowing visions. Both its lurches into foreboding darkness and deliriously majestic daydreams find cohesion. Across five mighty songs we explore the peculiar crevasse of an imagination so rich and lucid.

In spellbinding fashion, the grandeur of its themes smother the listener, a fine craft of composition and execution where very minute detail of design seems articulated with brilliance. The balance of intensities, reverberations and tonality of its instruments illuminate otherworldly tunes. This elevation of components seems steeped in unbounded inspirations. The quirkier, playful melodies seem almost Harry Potter akin, as magical bells jostle and chime in nightly gusts of wizardly winds.

Either lurching in cold shadows or bustling through night skies, a zest is always in the air. These paths are well walked as the music bestows a clear vision of fantastical realms home to magics that don't lean into the atypical moods this genre has become accustom with. This has always been a part of what sets Old Sorcery aside. Still growing as a musician, these stunning forty minutes gets at the essence of its identity.

The final song, A Haven, does linger somewhat on its lengthy exit. An intriguing start drifts into its most subdued passageway, however a transition to a final majestic curiosity seems intentional in design. Perhaps leaving us with an appetite for more? Its clear we have been treated to the best offering yet. Who knows what could follow?

Rating: 9/10

Helmet "Betty" (1994)

 

To discover Helmet, is to learn of the bridge between Grunge and Nu Metal. Familiar with their classic Meantime, Betty drew me in after Spotify's auto-play kept spinning I Know. The rhythm laden kick snare groove it opens held uncanny resemblance to Deftones' Around The Fur. The following loitering Shoegaze guitar chords present a striking affirmation of influence on yet another Nu Metal era band. These drifting, hazy, fuzzed out riffs seem seminal to the Deftones sound, leading me to wonder what else the record offered. Between the expectant roll out of syncopated Drop D riffs, dense and hazy showgaze aesthetics conjure a little atmosphere to counteract its grungy metallic stiffness. Its a warm, bold tone, lacking any lean to the dark or light and driven by competent percussive kick snare grooves. Bustling with choppy riffs, they routinely veer into that hazy texture. The back and forth is pleasant and undemanding.

Its other distinction was surprisingly that of Primus. Just a couple of songs venture into the bizarre oddities that their breed of the short lived Funk Metal established a few years prior. Its quite obvious, cheeky baselines, discerning noises and comical vocals break the sound suddenly. It works but lacks originality and serves to spice up an otherwise narrow sound as there is little to be found in the way of expansive song writing or progressive ambitions. This is straight riffs and Hamilton's meager cleans and reaching shouts tend to simply accommodate rather than spear on any energy. He definitely chimes better with the Shoegazing sections but doesn't feel like a key component of this simple syncopated style that would go on to influence so many bands. Betty is a really solid record, a firm execution of simple and effective ideas.
 

Rating: 7/10

Type O Negative "October Rust" (1996)

 

Smoothing out the oddities of torturous experimental sound design and crass, filthy humor, Type O Negative deliver a cohesive, lengthy album experience fit for a classic. Breezing past two brief humor driven tracks, Love You To Death embarks on chilly December moors. Cold winds groan as merciful  melancholic melodies descend upon on a cursed gothic romance. Stripped is the architecture of cinematic cheesy horror tones they previously yielded to sincerity. With a dreamy yet dreary aesthetic, imbued by fuzzed, hazy guitars and murky bass distortions, the record croons with affection.

October Rust's metallic foundations plays second fiddle to the manly sobs of Steele's engrossed voice. Soaring with emotive words, punctuated by cunning lyrics, he lands songs gracefully with infectious moods to latch onto. In duet with Josh Silver's keys, together they reign in a 90s spirit, yielding it to their own confessions in a glory of tuneful delights. Touches of the Alternative and Grunge sound lurk, even a smidge of Britpop akin sensibilities are heard on brighter numbers like Green Man.

Embracing warmth on brighter outings, so to do swings into dramatic sorrows and pains adorn this venture. Glorified by a passionate love of Gothic veneer, Type O Negative revel in the anguish of heartbreaks and loves lost. Thus its songs swerve the terrain of frosty landscapes in remarkably acute degrees. Both light and dark find unusual unions under brooding church organs, shimmering Shoegaze guitar tones and even a glistening Christmas bells on a mournful, gloomy Red Water.

Despite brilliance throughout, October Rust's second half steadies pace. After My Girlfriend's Girlfriend, a tongue in cheek romp, a string of excellence expires. The cover of Neil Young's Cinnamon Girl a further highlight and the concluding ten minute Haunting. Their absurdist humor is not lost, as the song abruptly ends during its Doom Metal parade upon lunging tempo and choral harmonies. I do wonder if it was brought about by medium constraints. After the sudden close, its final spoken remarks, "I hope it wasn't to disappointing" a crude one, given the wonderful seventy minute machination of Gothic majesty and 90s moods that proceeded it. A classic? Almost!

Rating: 9/10

Machine Head "Of Kingdom And Crown" (2022)

Flying on the spirited shoulders of front man Rob Flynn, Machine Head's one soul surviving member, a renewed lineup embark on a mission of defiant intent, to reaffirm their iconic demeanor boldly again. Pulling no crafty surprises, Of Kingdom And Crown rekindles the throttling metallic edge explored over their now lengthy history. Sadly, it arrives on shores of apathy. as my diminishing interest in the Metal treadmill grows. Its song writing may be cunning, the attitude ripe with passion and riffs as intoxicating as ever but a lack of originality breeds only serves a familiar serving.

Its one defining encroachment seems fitting to fail. The "woah-oa-woah" chorals, intentionally epic in shape and crudely catchy in execution just happens to be a cliche I'm not keen on. More commonly heard among cheery Electronic tinged Indie Rock of the last decade, Rob weaves it well into the aggression. As for everything else? A typical assemble of Groove and Thrash, woven in with iconic obnoxious fret harmonic abuse. It serves to paint its climaxes in a stale familiarity, fun but lacking freshness. Although wonderfully directed songs, catchy with steady progressions, the satisfying structures assemble an arsenal of riffs thoughtfully. Yet they blunder, as rehashing classic riffs from past records sours the potency of these peaks they strive for.

Where the record crumbles is in its mediocrity. Only a handful of tracks partially navigate these momentous intentions. Its darkly interlude muster little excitement and Rob's political resentments seem contrived, emerging as stiff frictions between words and the musical attitude. Of Kingdom And Crown may have octane aesthetics and lively execution but its contents are bamboozling, a case of deja-vu intent on a frothing urgency dulled by a lack of something new to say. Sure, one can have a good head bang and enjoy the energy, but ultimately its the same old Machine Head.

Rating: 5/10

The Gathering "How To Measure A Planet?" (1998)

 

On their third outing with the classic lineup, a firm end to metallic components is all to apparent, The Gathering drop both song style and distortion guitars in favor of dirty overdriven tones, progressing into the morose side of their known melancholy. Echos of former selves are heard, if only glimmers of ethereal acoustic arrangements once toyed with, withdrawn sluggish tempos dominate its dreary limp temperament.

Anneke's youthful vitality is sullen by a moody, downtrodden presence, her charmed voice skewed by inescapable sombre sorrows. Paired with steely bleak guitars chords and dull, muted baselines, forays of strange electronic textures and distortion noise further extenuates an inescapable wearisome. Songs do swell, blooming in measured builds ups, only to collapse back into these pale atmospheres wearily conjured.

Its clear I've not been wooed. Despite a glowing reputation, this progression stole what I adored and replaced it with little excitable. A meaty double record duration further emphasized the dullness I couldn't escape. Even on Liberty Bell, its most energized song, the zapping synths rustle my dissatisfaction to grandiose Alternative guitar chords that don't deliver on intentions. It seems its clearly defined chemistry s lost on me, perhaps a result of its mournful spirit that seems tinged on a unidentifiable sadness.

Rating: 5/10

The Comet Is Coming "Hyper-Dimensional Expansion Beam" (2022)

 

Obnoxious rhythmic fluctuations take lead, the Saxophone sits central, a lone expressive voice articulating simple expressions over a surreal synth landscape of cosmic majesty. With Metal adjacent syncopation, the pulsing of minimal notes sways in brief repetitions. Looped hooks and grooves groan in its textural might. Voiced like sequences of chorus lyrics, they bounce and chime off the lavish densities rumbling below, a contrast that constrains its fluttering presence to a narrow linear path. Sadly, its a weak spot. As the record traverses its modest temporal trajectory, the blunt Sax expressions become monotonous and grating. Although exploring tonality and envelope, too often do the short phrases unleashed grind down into a rigid form.

 Casting a lengthy shadow over its complimentary backing section, the wild tapestry of electronics and shuffling percussive arrangements play second fiddle, despite being superior. With an attentive ear, a spectacular array of astral events emerges. Unfolding with shimmering synths and lively drum patterns, the latter jostles with airy ambience and dynamic unraveling of waveform leads. On occasion they gush and ooze in delightful spectacles of musical chemistry. Its mostly heard within a bold string of strong opening songs. As they pass, so to does that spacey wondrous charm. Retreating into routine, unimpressed ideas dominate, it drops off sharp, sparks fading.

Transforming into an uneventful jam session, Hyper-Dimensional Expansion Beam descends into itself. Brief arrangements conjure aesthetic curiosity but direction, progression and creativity seems simply lost. Such a shift from the lively magic it opened with seems sudden around the forth track or so. It rarely returns and thus leaves a sour taste in ones mouth, or ears. Trimmed to a brief EP, this would have been fantastical fruit. Unfortunately, the majority of the crop yield isn't up to scratch and thus leaves much to be desired. The Comet Is Coming are still one to watch with a unique musical arrangement however they have shown the best and worst of themselves here.

Rating: 4/10

Slipknot "The End, So Far" (2022)

 

Breaking from lengthy absences between their prior two efforts, Slipknot storm back onto the scene with haste and inspiration afoot. Reestablishing themselves on We Are Not Your Kind, the nine mature into comfortable territory, able to deliver the goods and encroach on new ground. Adderall beautifully misfires the record start, a torturous lyrical piece on drug abuse juxtaposed by gentle melancholic pianos and Post-Rock guitars. Uplifted on the march of its warm baseline, a pivot into bluesy gospel chorals tinged by shimmering, wailing guitar texture states intent for something different.

One has to await these finer wines as swiftly we crash ashore on maniacal aggressive batterings Slipknot are known best for. A smattering of triple percussionist force punches out classic grooves on uncanny familiarity with The Dying Song and The Shapeltown Rag. These are the crowd pleasers, with bite and vitriol at the ready, the hounds of frightful frustration are unleashed among bouncy infectious brutality.

As the record matures, so do its broody atmospheres and textural treats between the swaths of metallic onslaught, mostly cunning guitar riffs and stomping drum breaks to headbang along with. In this expressive space, Slipknot thicken the fabric of their identity, exploring the creepy, unruly dimension that blesses their distinction. Cracking crates ajar, unlocked are new depths of this mid-tempo, mood led focal point. Explored in degrees, an overlap with convention yields quite an enjoyable variety.

So far, The End, So Far, has been spun without a single skip. It ebbs and flows, leading to a grand conclusion with De Sade and Finale. The former proposes gratifying links between ends as texture, aggression and Corey's clean emotive singing unites different extremes. Venturing then into a string of exchanging classic Metal guitar solo stylings, the fiery energy deconstructs itself, dissipating into silence.

It sets the stage for a grand bow out, Finale offers sombre strings and graceful pianos on slight unease to brood into an emotional climax as Corey declares emotional attachment to his darkness. Its expressed through catchy wordings, to get stuck in the mind. Again, a textural experience. The song breathes alongside its creepy choral chants. Expanding and contracting, it feels like a link to the albums opening.

Consistently does one feel a sense of expression and inspiration. Perhaps loosening the shackles of expectation, Slipknot gracefully venture onto new lands. The production is sublime, a typical modern marvel, managing to cram in nine loud voices in its loud onslaughts. Best of all, I felt Sid Wilson's input was made visible. Often you can hear the turntable textures working in a little extra magic at no expense to anything else. This has been a delight. The best since Volume 3 as it stands.

Rating: 7/10

Mortiis "Ånden Som Gjorde Opprør" (1995)

 

Enjoying a spontaneous plunge into Dungeon Synth origins, we conclude for now with Mortiis' sophomore record. Released earlier in the same year as Keiser Av En Dimensjon Ukjent, it seems substantially maturer of the two. Mortiis, now professing himself as a Tolkein troll on the albums cover, takes a darker route with the music. Stoic, castly vibes permeate its mellow enchantment, as the former fantasy flutes give way to dusky winds and morose organ tones that lurch with a lingering gloom.

On this outing, the instrument selection is ripe, often dense with brooding strings that overlap, its tones have a crowded space to hide the blemishes of its electronic origins under its fidelity lacking production. The low end is thickened out dramatically and when Orkish militant parades pound their unruly drums, a grand mystique is unearthed, a wondrous mix where the performance's inadequacies embellish its spirit.

This is at least true of En Mørk Horisont, Its five chapters traverse vivid soundscapes of darkly fantasy realms, ushered on by the weighty gravitas of deep gong strikes. Visjoner Av En Eldgammel Fremtid experiments initially. More spoken dialog and breaks in tone has its direction muddied before settling into a predictable pace. It gradually builds grandiosity to a victorious trumpet fanfare in its final three parts.

Of all the Dungeon Synth precursors Ive encountered, this felt the most emblematic of what was to come. Mortiis, clearly inspired by Fantasy and Tolkein, lay down rich foundations for others to build from, that would eventually transform into a scene fifteen years later. I had not studied his works attentively before. Now the link is all to obvious but best of all, his music strides boldly into the imagination with stunning vividness. This is no embryonic endeavor but a fully expressed vision.

Rating: 8/10

Depeche Mode "Songs Of Faith And Devotion" (1993)

 

Moving on from the soaring heights of Violator, the English quartet Depeche Mode make a daring bold stride into a resonant religiosity that birthed their Personal Jesus hit. Further embracing the human gulls of guitar texture, they lean on darker acoustic vibrations, Gahan's subtle vibratos inhabiting numerous cold reverbs, wandering towards despaired lows the albums dominating theme seemingly rescues him from.

Songs Of Faith And Devotion is definitely of their vein. Shimmers of Gospel, Hymns and spiritual voiceings line its persuasions. Only with Condemnation do they take a solem plunge of baptism into its sways. A beautiful moment among other ideas that converge with mixes of ideals. One can observe an orchestrated component. Gallant and chivalrous string sections ascend the clouds, disconnected from its counterparts.

Swooned by the times, so too does one hear inflections of an emerging Trip Hop scene. Dense, snappy, popular percussive loops crowd the rhythm section of many a song. Get Right With Me goes hard on its Gospel choral chants, clashing hard with its clunky drum sampling. Rush too flurries a similar fate, its Electro-Industrial synths injecting a jolting energy against dark, steely guitars, Gahan on another frequency.

This records ambitions land it in a variety of places. The better written songs seemingly closer to a formula that served them well before. Its soft religiosity a crooning charm better served the harder they leaned into it. As a whole experience, it holds over with a meaty persuasion but blemishes show on numerous repetitions. Seems the group were pulled in multiple directions, by emerging scenes of the time, yet sticking with their guns and faithful inspiration may have worked out best.

Rating: 6/10

Sabaton "Father" (2022)

 

 "Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare", no surprises here, more plain faced descriptions and tunefully cheesy lyrics. Sabaton have returned with additional songs from this World War I themed era of theirs, which I have enjoyed immensely. Its the first of a few EPs to be packaged with additional tracks from The Great War and The War To End All Wars. Although only hosting one new song, the grouping of relevant tracks is a niche touch, another reason to their music once again.

Father is dedicated to Haber Fritz, a figure well worth learning about. Creator of synthesized crop fertilizers and chemical weapons he has brought about both suffering and flourishing for humanity on a grand scale. He is given a somewhat ambiguous reception by the band. The song has a soft lurching darkness and sinister tone as its guitars take a subdued roll, letting its symphonic tones roar. It pivots to quite an uplifting reprisal, led on by a brief guitar solo, the vocals roll into a brief swooning. Perhaps these contrasts are reflective of the scientists contributions to humanity. Weight is certainly put on the suffering he caused. Its a reasonable song, fitting snugly into their current focus. Can't wait to hear more on the coming EPs!

Rating: 4/10

Mortiis "Keiser Av En Dimensjon Ukjent" (1995)

Reviving his past aspirations with the recent Spirit Of Rebelion, I sought out a piece of the origin story that inspired so many within the Dungeon Synth scene. As one of the Norwegian musicians earliest incarnations, Keiser Av En Dimensjon Ukjent has strong similarities. Comprised of two twenty minute lengthy halves, split into lesser parts, the pairing adventures journey through naturalist, nostalgic imaginations. A breezy spirit for magical adventure and gentle mystique guide the listener along is pleasantries.

The glimmer of yearning strings and playful flute melodies glides over broodish bass warmth. Occasionally bumbling into gustos of castled might and sampled bellowing voices, the title track sails sweetly in the uplift of its welcoming tone. Mischief is beyond sight, however Reisene Til Grotter Og Odemarker finds a devilish grandeur as mysterious choir tones and rumbling percussive strikes chance a little unease.

Eventually circling back around to its brighter persona, part three embarks on a classic, triumphant deceleration of Orkish nature. Freshly unveiled trumpets roar for battle, as deep drums thump the pacey march to war. Its darkness is one of theatrics, the imagination run wild with a strong whiff of Tolkein steering its sequestered charms.

Its a wondrous piece of music for the time. No doubts I once gave it a listen but never made the connection in my youth. Now its gift to Dungeon Synth seems simply undeniable. A lot of its charm emanates from a flawed human performance. The creeks and groans of imperfection, its natural, organic fidelity, aid the immersion. It masks repetitive structures and highlights the gulf a digital MIDI and VST driven project like Spirit Of Rebelion suffers as a result of lacking these perfect imperfections.

Rating: 7/10

Mortiis "Spirit Of Rebellion" (2020)

Somewhat stiff, direct in execution, Mortiis' so called embrace of Dungeon Synth feels a step behind the ruinous, mystic wonders he helped inspired. Often sighted as a precursor to the movement, the Norwegian musician often remarked indifference to his obvious influences. This castley affair of medieval fantasy pumps might, magic and vitriolic spirit from its bold and cheesy synths. Alongside fractures of foggy, murky key tones, an aesthetic veneer glimmers in its own reflection. The unshaken instep march of looped melodies, perfectly aligned in MIDI notation, evaporates the humanity.

Its first half, A Dark Horizon, toys with the moody abandon. Gentle tempered spirits of estranged worbling VSTs venture on lonely meandering journeys, intermittently struck by thuds and drum strikes. Its lonely, occasionally frightful but mostly shy of striking a nerve. With a barer construct, its repetitions become a blemish of its pristine presentation. Simplistic looping melodies swiftly a gnawing gripe, sucking charm and magic other low fidelity production aesthetics of the genre would offer.

Visions Of An Ancient Future embarks on ambitious conquests. Deep gongs, perpetual echos of militant percussion and a stoic stature march forth with the might of glorious battle horns guiding its way. The shift from esoteric curiosity to kings and castles would make for an interesting record if both halves did not endure the lifelessness of such stiffly executed virtual instrument performances. In a nutshell, appealing ideas but a lack of immersion.

Rating: 4/10

Kyros "Vox Humana" (2017)

 

Suffering the meaty bloat of a double disk, lengthy escapade, Vox Humana reaches far. Seeking heavens, with spirit and inspiration guiding, this juggernaut weighs upon itself. As a progressive beast, lunging from epic to epic, its diverse aspirations forge wild strings of temperaments and intensities. Reliving the classic tropes of Progressive Rock, flirting with performative theater, a dynamic metallic energy and even shivers of crude Dubstep wobbles on path, a cluster bomb of ideas explode upon the listener.

Individually, lofty, grandiose themes excels, triumphant roars and gratifying peaks are navigated among an arsenal of instruments keen to show their harmony. Collectively, a broad meandering is endured with no ending in sight. Lacking an arc, a sense of overall direction, its climaxes, dramatic twists and turns, roll of the treadmill linked, a free formation running against its own current. At least that has been my experience.

Despite a sense of disorientation stumbling through the hurdles of its musical might, Vox Humana is littered with gratifying sways into exalted emotive swoons. So often do its musky, gentle lulls erupt, illuminated by surging musical powers. The persuasion of momentous riffs, engulfing dancing melodies and all to often, Shelby Warne's voice, assailing all, Kyros land their adventurous ships ashore upon treasured beaches.

On examination, a culprit emerges, its linking elements. Intensity down-turns, drives into obscurity and the general breeziness between storms lacks charm felt elsewhere. Its where meandering looses attention and the swells of excellence are lost in its over ambitious nature. But the ambition is clear, leading to regular contagions of brilliance.

To my mind, Vox Humana sounds out of ears to its audience, a group of musicians exacting their will, uncompromising in their vision. As an observer, indulges into odd and experimental directions frequently break its flow. Clearly excellence is abundant, with many a satisfying moment along the way. Its peaks show this to be true but the journey? A rocky one in terms of holding over interest and attention.

Rating: 7/10