Ancient Rites
Rubicon

The Rubicon is a small river that, if it weren't for the disastrous historical events it caused, would have remained confined to that piece of the lowland Padana that accommodates it. However, here, a Roman commander named Gaius Julius Caesar, short, bald, and unmatched in cunning, decided to change History by crossing it with his armies, thus waging war with the Republican Rome of Senators like Cicero and other generals hostile to him like Pompey. This stream was nothing less than the boundary between the then Cisalpine Gaul and the territories of the Urbs, which was not yet an "Empire," and which forbade its Commanders from entering it with their armies.

"Alea Jacta Est," muttered Caesar as he crossed the shallow waters. "The die is cast." And so it is, one can say, even for Ancient Rites, a refined Belgian band with sharp and erudite intelligence that, with this "Rubicon," offers the listener a mix of epic and heartfelt stories. However, let it be understood, not of fantasy nor steeped in the "Black" philosophy, although congenial to them, having been among its hosts in unsuspected times, but rather sketching characters and profiles from forgotten and evoked eras, here, from remembrances lost in the dust of time, considered by many as not worthy of attention.
In this sense, Ancient Rites have made a brave choice in all the areas and grooves of this work. They were not content to tell of bloody battles and atrocious commanders; they have overturned the concept of "epic" by serving us a dish seasoned with ineluctable and majestic "values," ranging from honor in war, to the moral stature and weight of the historical figures cited, to the boundless courage of the soldiers and the recklessness of certain temporal glimpses. And the music then... Nothing to do with the Black Metal of the beginnings that earned them a large underground following, but rather a lethal cocktail of driven tempos, double bass drums, furious drums, distinctly Heavy guitars, a voice that transitions smoothly from the evil and blasphemous hiss of Death/Black to the evocative and lyrical "clear" common to many "Power" and "Epic" bands.

The result, if you already sense the stench of "atrocity" and "neither fish nor fowl" in the air, is instead, let me say, truly exceptional.

"Rubicon" is an album that does not leave you, not even remotely, bored for a moment. It allows itself to be listened to and explored, although it is not a concept, and thus with each track, it transitions from one atmosphere to another: "Crusade" with its oriental and seductive percussion, memories of opal twilight stars embellished by the distance of boundless expanses; "Templar" which instead begins spectacularly with technical and very fast flair, proving to be changing and ancestral, alluding to the deeds of the Crusades in the Holy Land, certain medieval marches, until it expands into the best-fashioned Symphonic Black; and then "Mithras" which seems a homage to the best Epic Heavy Metal, although supported by strictly Thrash tempos and bases, the splendid "Thermopylae" which begins with a heartbreaking piano loop, enriches with keyboards and then reverberates in the march of the Greek and Persian armies, evoking pity and sensation for the sacrifice of Leonidas and the Spartans who sacrificed themselves there to enable their compatriots to prepare adequate defenses against the imminent enemy onslaught.

This "Rubicon" is full of episodes like this, and do not be surprised that the work, as it is completed, despite its heterogeneity, turns out to be always a "step forward" in the journey through the historical meanders that overflow in the masterful edges it emanates, knowing how to fascinate, astonish, sadden, make proud, and in the end, after the dozens of listens it will cost you, if you know how to "feel" and appreciate it, entrap, to signify, after all, that from past events, one can and must learn; otherwise, the future and the present represent nothing but a succession of few and miserable things.