Arsis
We Are the Nightmare

"We Are The Nightmare" is a sweet fucking nightmare.

Many great thinkers (Gorgias), writers (Leopardi), and womanizers (Schopenhauer) have argued that pleasure is the child of pain; this little gem proves that no statement has ever been more truthful. It is hard to describe this work... maybe some emblematic imagery does it better. It's like making love hidden in the closet of a very crowded living room and feeling agony mixing with excitement. Or, like headbutting a rough reinforced concrete wall and continuing to do it for the sheer pleasure of it, with eyes closed and teeth clenched, even though you know you will suffer like a filthy beast.

The first track, "We Are The Nightmare," starts off very mild, so that these Americans who are inspired by Dark Tranquillity have time to magically weave the dreamlike dimension into which they will then send you with a tremendous kick in the ass, sounding like a drum. Don't believe it? Well, we'll see how you'll feel when the powerful drums of Darren Cesca kick in: you'll get bronchitis and gastroenteritis... but it's normal. And here it comes, as if everything wasn’t enough, the agonized voice of James Malone stupefying you, while you're huddled in a dark corner, trembling with fear as hideous rotting creatures appear in your room. Going forward will be like drinking the bitter chalice, but don't worry: the skillful use of melody, a splendid doodle in the technical quilt woven by your torturers, known as Arsis, will spread some honey on the edges.

From "Shattering The Spell" onwards, the technical rate rises further, and you can't help but have an orgasm while some thorns are clutching you in their coils, tormenting you with their spikes. Think it's over here? We'll talk again after "Servants To The Night": stuff that even the tender little monster on the cover would shit itself.

And after the magnificent "My Oath To Madness," a moment of true enjoyment (none of those Mars bars), when you're trembling with pleasure and your flesh is torn deeply, here comes the concluding "Failure's Conquest": the guitar of Ryan Knight will spread a subtle melancholy through the air...and then give you yet another stab in the stomach. Trust me, you'll feel like Julius Caesar after this track: it's like watching, seated atop a plateau, a splendid fiery sunset while your girlfriend scratches your ears with her big toe...and at the same time getting beaten with an iron rod by the town bully.

So what's better, a work dominated by orgasmic technicality or one where you abandon yourself to melody and slowly sink? Better to have both. Better to have this album.

"We Are The Nightmare" is a sweet fucking nightmare.