Ashes Divide
Keep Telling Myself It's Alright

Billy Howerdel is an artist. A term often overused or used wrongly these days. But the guitarist and co-deus-ex-machina of A Perfect Circle with James Maynard Keenan is not just a skilled craftsman. This first album of his side project ASHES dIVIDE, "Keep Telling Myself It's alright", was released in 2008, almost quietly compared to the solo project of the other head of the APC cereberus named Puscifer. In the dual contrast of the two works, the perfect circle is completed (to be clear, Keenan is also truly an artist). Where Puscifer is dirty, dark, twisted, and sick, ASHES dIVIDE is melancholic without ever being rhetorical, ethereal without disdaining the grit of the original group, to the point of becoming almost sunny at times. The melodic openings, certain guitar riffs, cannot help but reveal their origin... but the issue goes beyond purely technical discourse: Howerdel honestly takes to the microphone not trying to emulate his partner's madness but humbly aiming for melodies that are not always conventional, showing sensitivity and disarming delicacy at times, without fearing any direct comparison.

It is also clear that this is an album that "rocks". The guitar lines intersect with those of the piano, the rhythm of the drums sounds almost "electronic" in its precision and consistency, the harmonic progressions of the tracks compose a fresco that, while hinting at varied influences, sounds damn personal. Like a man who accepts having his soul read in all its complex and fragmented fragilities. And this takes extreme courage. And great strength.

It's difficult to single out episodes from the album that stand out more than others. Certainly "Stripped Away", "The Stone", "Enemies", and "Denial Waits" are potential hits, more directly connected to the musician's past life, but the rest of the album is no less worth listening to, slowly absorbed. "Forever Can Be", "Too Late", "Defamed", "A Wish", "Ritual", "Sword", they creep into your mind... And after a few listens, you find yourself searching within the nuances, exploring worlds (both sonic and human) that you superficially thought you knew but now appear new and foreign.

If I had to name some references, I could say that the reminiscences range from Depeche Mode to APC (obviously), from NIN to the best Cure. But here we are only talking about form. The soul of this album is all Billy Howerdel. And then come and tell me he's not an artist.