Published by Fabrizio Ferrero on June 7, 2016
Nowadays it seems to be a long dated habit for the more enlightened musical projects, to take inspiration from the world of cinema and of the ‘occult literature’, stating so their alterity comparing to the huge, shapeless conglomerate of mediocrity (sometimes intentionally tacky) that the witch house, deathgaze, grave wave, or whatever, has become.
A couple of days ago I was having a chat with an insider about the self – cannibalization phenomenon that took place four / five years ago, when witch house itself had killed bands of outstanding profile as Salem or Ritualz, due to the uncontrolled proliferation of some awkward adolescent pseudo-creativity and thanks to the epiphany (epidemic) of fifty bands a day, all of them monkeying around with the same sound.
M ‡ яc ▲ll▲, we were saying, are part of the ‘educated’ élite since, besides their impeccable sound, they took their name after Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu and his classic gothic novella Carmilla (which predates Stoker’s Dracula of two decades) in which a girl falls prey to the vampire Carmilla, that turns out to be Mircalla, the Karnstein Countess.
The act’s third album has been delivered after a three – year hiatus which began after the release of HЄRЄŦłC; the eponymous work suggests the definitive separation of the New Yorkers from the Phantasma Disques label, and represents a remarkable turning point towards an evolution as for the old bands’ sound.
If HЄRЄŦłC emanated an orthodox witch house sound, plumbeous, dark and heavy as if PIL’s Metal Box was released on Bandcamp in 2013, conversely the new album seems to capture the renewed interest in the Giallo movies atmospheres meandering in the collective unconscious: a distinctive example of the trend is Gianni Vercetti and Antoni Maiovvi’s Giallo Disco Records and its enticing, luscious catalogue.
The opening track, L’Esprit de l’Escalier shows immediately the way to take, it touches the sublime and slams it in the face, out of the blue: the are echoes of the oldfieldian Tubular Bells and of ‘The’ Goblin record; we are thrown in a Argentian atmosphere where the disqueting and the ominous dwell and prevail, taking the shape and matter of a battering sequencer (peculiar feature of the album) and of tubular keyboard chords that rise in a murderous crescendo.
Cabal (we presume a tribute to the short novel by Clive Barker from whence Nightbreed was taken) surprises, turns direction again and reshapes the features of a certain minimal wave around November Növelet and Xeno & Oaklander area giving more compactness and substance to the sound and homaging Adult in the meantime. The track is distorted synths filled, mid-tempo drum machine dotted and fierce sequencers dented. An ill, cold and distant vocal marks Cabal as the goth-ish episode of the album.
Uhtceanu seems to be inspired by Clock Dva’s Buried Dreams, and it spreads syncopated rhythms inducing retro – cyber mental landscapes packed with green phosphors monitors and pixellated virtual realities.
A Caution Worth Repeating drags us back into a dark cinema to see Carpenter crossed with Goblin’s typical ominous keyboard wall quoting directly Deep Red, meanwhile Geomancy with its glorious distorted analog noise, is a recall to the old witchy spirit.
The closing credits roll as the closing In Place Of shines back into a dark, emotional, bloodwave environment while we remain in silence, astounded by the film finale.
M‡яc▲ll▲ is quite a consistent and homogeneous piece of art, although never boring, never tiresome maybe due its cinematic development; it clearly shows its huge caliber, its luciferian beauty, its outstanding quality. That kind of a long time unheard work.
Its beauty is binding, as well. We feel immediately a deep link as we’re itching to start again from the first frame of this immaterial movie which we are allowed to shoot, cut, recut endlessly even if it will never be real light on a proper screen.
Rating: 10
Label: na.