Antonius Rex
Per Viam

Year of Demons 2009: the indomitable Antonio Bartoccetti returns, celebrating his forty years of official career with this new album (let's remember that the legendary “In Cauda Semper Stat Venenum” by Jacula dates back to the Jurassic 1969, even though, let us not forget, the early movements of the Magister in the Italian musical undergrowth can be placed as far back as around 1966!).

However, without looking too far back, to fully understand this "Per Viam" we only need to take as reference the most recent works, namely "Magic Ritual," with which Antonius Rex stepped into the third millennium, and the formidable "Switch on Dark," the true official album since the masterpiece "Praeternatural" of 1980!

"Per Viam" moves roughly along the same coordinates as its immediate predecessor, which had updated Antonius Rex's peculiar dark-progressive to the sound standards of the new millennium.

Invariably supported by his partner Doris Norton (always gigantic in handling organ, keyboards, synthesizers, orchestrations, and soundscapes) and his son Rexanthony (on synthesizers), Antonio Bartoccetti once again benefits from the philosophical contribution of the Romanian medium Monika Tasnad, and again hires a flesh-and-bone drummer, Florian Gorman, to lend greater consistency to his music: music that definitely stabilizes on a ostentatious horror-rock metallic style, reminiscent of the moves of Simonetti's Daemonia, another glory of seventies horror prog.

It must be said that, compared to the monumental "Switch on Dark", "Per Viam" sounds more physical, in a certain sense, solid, pragmatic, "material". If "Switch on Dark" was a worthy heir to a metaphysical, ethereal, mystical work like "Praeternatural," "Per Viam" strikes us as something more linear, direct, decidedly more rock-oriented, yet still maintaining the basic ingredients of Antonius Rex's third millennium sound: robust sabbathian guitars, keyboards and synthesizers with an ambient flavor, a solid symphonic background, and a touch of electronics called to sweep away the dust of a rock still anchored to the styles of past decades. Merit note: among the grooves of the usual formidable instrumental progressions, Bartoccetti's evocative recitation re-emerges, returning after almost thirty years of absence!

The album starts, in truth, with the weakest link of the chain, that leading single named "Micro Demons", a rather banal piece that, despite numerous listens, fails to fully convince: constructed on a robust electronic foundation and punctuated by powerful pseudo-industrial guitar lashes, the track is saved at the last minute by a sublime interlude of organ and Gregorian chants.

The rest of the album demonstrates a further effort to align with the dictates of contemporaneity, making a measured but well-present use of electronic patterns, over which square and well-polished guitars stroll like trains at high speeds.

The title track emerges as the most intricate piece of the bunch, with Norton’s compelling orchestrations launched into frightening crescendos where the prophetic guitar of the Magister joins with full-bodied rhythms and solos of exquisite taste.  

On the same coordinates move, later on, "Spectra" and "Angels & Demons" (a daring reimagining of an eleventh-century mass), which seem to even trespass into the risky territories of the most polished gothic-metal. They might wrinkle the noses of early fans, but it's undeniable that the two songs carry with them all the class, technical expertise, and meticulous attention to detail that has always characterized every production by the Bartoccetti/Norton duo.

Moving to the album's highlights, "Woman of the King" is probably the most successful track of the work, not only because of the dark verses in Italian chanted by Bartoccetti, whose recital evokes the mythical "Magister Dixit" of "In Cauda Semper..." (emotions we didn't think could be repeated!). The track, indeed, serves substantial novelties on a plate, sprawling over a folk-Celtic carpet, an unprecedented solution in the horrific imagery of Antonius Rex. What emerges is a sensual, refined, enveloping track, characterized by a first section where we are delighted by delicate acoustic phrases perfectly intertwined with the usual organ caresses, and a second part where the themes of the first are reinterpreted by roaring guitars, running alongside the progressive textures of the keyboards.

Also noteworthy is the monumental "Antonius Rex Prophecy", one of the most intense and significant tracks penned by Bartoccetti in his career: inspired by a prophecy written back in 1948 by Charles Tiring (the elderly organist from the times of "In Cauda Semper..."), it constitutes "Antonius Rex's apocalyptic message to the world". In fact, it's about eleven strikingly visionary minutes in which Norton's magical piano touch and the lapping of waves carry Bartoccetti's ominous harangue, laden with dim and terrible visions: a ruthless observation on the fate of man and the world, a deeply poetic lyrical excursus with biblical tones that revisits themes dear to the Marchigiano artist, always at the forefront in his crusade against spiritual decay, materialism, stupidity, the greed of the failed modern man.

The album closes in the most splendid way, but before saying goodbye it is worth noting an episode we deliberately omitted: the exhumation of a historic track, "UFDEM" originally present in "Tardo Pede in Magiam Versus", here resurrected in an electric version (it almost sounds like a Black Sabbath piece!) becoming the most undeniably catchy moment of the album. For the occasion, the track is reinforced by rocky guitar riffs and a solid rhythmic base, while the vocal track seems transposed directly from the original version (unless Norton's voice and interpretation have not changed a jot in nearly forty years!).

If we obviously continue to prefer the ancient version of the track (with its unparalleled charm), it is still necessary to appreciate the substantial and intrinsic value of a composition that, according to Bartoccetti himself, "if it were presented at San Remo, it would have won ten years in a row...but we don't do these silly things!".

And we, fully agreeing with Antonio Bartoccetti, leave San Remo to San Remo, and immediately plunge back into listening to this great album, yet another from an artist who, regarding longevity, we can say borders on immortality!

Long live Antonius Rex: another forty years like these!