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Rating: Experimentation and never resting on one's laurels.
This is the goal set by these three guys from Oregon, united under the name Agalloch. Don Anderson - guitar, John Haughm - vocals, guitar, drums, and Jason William Walton - bass, after debuting in 1999 with the astonishing 'Pale Folklore', which leaned more towards doom/death, released this beautiful album, almost entirely diverging from canonical metal in favor of a fusion with folk and a hint of ambient.
Rarely has a CD of over 60 minutes (with a total of 9 tracks, 4 of which are instrumental) managed not to bore me, thanks to the emotional charge of every single song, which seems to speak to the listener's soul. The main influences are Ulver, Katatonia, and not strictly metal bands like Swans, Godspeed, Nick Cave, Tom Waits. The lyrics follow a recurring theme: depression, but also the aspect of nature bound to its struggle against humanity, which seems inclined to destroy it.
The intro "A Celebration for the Death of Man..." is entirely supported by an ethereal acoustic guitar arpeggio, then joined by electric guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards, leading to the masterpiece "In the Shadow of Our Pale Companion", a quarter-of-an-hour suite, where for the first time we hear John's icy voice, capable of transitioning from a subtle scream, never too intrusive, to clean vocals or a nasal whisper. The song is very intricate, alternating slower, melodic parts with more cadenced ones, and the lyrics are applause-worthy, especially in the section: "If this grand panorama before me is what you call God. . . Then God is not dead" which personally struck me deeply.
"Odal" is a slow instrumental marked by drums that alternate almost black riffs with acoustic sections. At the end, a melancholy piano introduces "I am the Wooden Doors", a more driven track that doesn't forego guitar phrases and fine acoustic inserts, with the one in the central part being legendary. "The Lodge" features a single acoustic arpeggio over a cello base, calming the waters before the other more intense track, "You Were but a Ghost in My Arms", with lyrics about a lost love tormenting the abandoned lover, leading them to utter despair.
"The Hawthorne Passage" is the longest instrumental (over 11 minutes), dedicated to the theme of gray life in cities. What sets it apart from the others is the unexpected blues solo that makes the piece even more melancholic and suffering. "...And the Great Cold Death of the Earth" follows the same path as the other songs, with the difference that now electric guitars provide the background to acoustics, extending into fantastic solos, and at the end, the theme of the intro is revisited.
This great album closes with "A Desolation Song", where the sadness is almost palpable, scream put aside for mere whisper over a base of accordion and acoustic guitars and a stunning mandolin (!) solo.
In short, an album to experience rather than listen to passively, catapulting Agalloch among the best metal bands in circulation today (waiting for the new album to be released in early August).
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
04 I Am the Wooden Doors (06:11)
When all is withered and torn
And all has perished and fallen
These great wooden doors shall remain closed. . .
When the heart is a grave filled with blood
And the soul is a cold and haunted shall of lost hope
When the voice of pride has been silenced
And dignity's fires are but cinders
. . .their grandeur shall remain untainted
It is this grandeur that protects the spirit within
From the plight of this broken world, from the wounds in her song
I wish to die with my will and spirit intact
The will that inspired me to write these words
Seek not the fallen to unlock these wooden doors
06 You Were but a Ghost in My Arms (09:14)
Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm
Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall...
Amber nectar, misery ichor
...cascading in streams of hallowed form
For each stain, a forsaken shadow
You are the lugubrious spirit
Etched in the oak of wonder
You are the sullen voice and silent storm
Each night I lay
Awakened by her shivering silent voice
From the shapes in the corridor walls.
It pierces the solitude like that of a distant scream
In the pitch-black forest of my delusion...
With each passing day, a deeper grave...
"Why did you leave me to die?"
"Why did you abandon me?"
"Why did you walk away and leave me bitterly yearning?"
Her haunting, contorted despair was etched into the wood's grain
Though fire rages within me, no fire burns fiercer than her desire
The shape whispers my name...
I damn this oak!
I damn her sorrow!
I damn these oaken corridors
That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away!
Though tempted I am to caress her texture divine
And taste her pain sweet, sweet like brandy wine;
I must burn these halls, these corridors
And silence her shrill, tormenting voice
...forever...
Like snowfall, you cried a silent storm
No tears stain this dust in my hands
But from this ashen gray, her voice still
Whispers my name...
You were the lugubrious spirit
Who haunted the oak of wonder
You were the geist that warned this frozen silent storm
You were but a ghost in my arms
09 A Desolation Song (05:08)
Here I sit at the fire
Liquor's bitter flames warm my languid soul
Here I drink alone and remember
A graven life, the stain of her memory
In this cup, love's poison
For love is the poison of life
Tip the cup, feed the fire,
And forget about useless fucking hope. . .
Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk. . .
Here's to love, the sickness
The great martyr of the soul
Here's to life, the vice
The great herald of misery
In this cup, spiritus frumenti
For this is the nectar of the spirit
Quench the thirst, drown the sorrow
And forget about cold yesterdays. . .
Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk. . .
Lost in the desolation of love
The sorrows we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
The path that we walk. . .
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By StefanoHab
They did it again with their next album, The Mantle, stirring something within the soul of the listener.
The Mantle is an album I have lived more than listened to, belonging among those albums that made me realize how important music is.
