Carpathian
Isolation

Martin Kirby & Ian Curtis. Now, regarding the second name, I don't think any of you have any doubt about who he is and which band he created back in 1976. Regarding the first name, however, the questions might multiply, also because it wouldn’t be a problem if it meant almost nothing to you. What matters is that he's an Australian guy, absolutely not a contemporary of Ian and the Joy Division, but he's an avid fan and remains trapped in the imagery created by those figures from the gray and industrial Salford. Thirty years and several continents apart, a connection exists; there is an intertwining between the creations of the Brits and those of the group of which Martin is the voice and lyricist, Carpathian. It seems paradoxical, but it's true. To be clear, the Carpathians have nothing at all to do with it, nor are there the various face paintings that belong to the Carpathian Forest, other realms. The moniker naively derives much more simply from Donnie Darko (Carpathian Ridge, the inspiration), catching them off guard with an association with black metal, as they were unaware of it. In Melbourne it's known the climate is slightly different, and the indecision that grips the mind is which spot to choose for surfing on a Saturday afternoon.

Speaking of waves, in the early '00s Carpathian was placed within the “Australian Wave”, yes, the one with names that, frankly, I've never been fond of, like I Killed The Prom Queen or Parkway Drive. And their 2006 debut “Nothing To Lose” only confirmed this impression. Breakdowns, ubiquitous generics, and very little personality. Sure, for the Australian scene kids it was gold worthy of King Midas, but as I see it, it was forgettable. And our five must have noticed it too because in 2008 Carpathian appeared in a completely different light. The first clue is their international market debut under Deathwish, and the other imprint that weighs like a boulder on their sound search is the Joy Division. Yes, I indeed wrote them, so the thread mentioned in the beginning finds its completion. Martin is fascinated and seeks to reconcile Ian's typical introspection with the hardcore punk of the group. Not a simple task, and the balance of expressive forms is one of the cornerstones in the zero year of Carpathian, who in August 2008 released “Isolation”, a title that might not be new to you in other tracklists, I guess. A curious semantic choice that will repeat with “Ceremony”, just like one of the latest compositions from Joy Division, and in “Permanent” which shares the lyrics with “Something Must Break”: the homage is evident. The devotion is also reinforced by minimalist, skeletal graphic and font choices with chromaticity that becomes binary between black and white, the quintessential antagonistic dualism.

Coast to coast, from the Australian one to another, more specifically I'm referring to the American East Coast, to Boston. Exactly, as on an idealistic level the Joy Division has been dissected, the revision of Carpathian also involves the sound connotation. In “Isolation” the influences of Have Heart (Pat Flynn appears as a guest on “Ceremony”), American Nightmare, Verse, and the like come out, but it's the lethal union with the Joy Division world reinterpreted with precise and particular artistic choices that grants the platter in question a rather indispensable status for those who love certain sounds. Within the 26 minutes our guys explode, managing to create an album capable of erasing their previous production. One of those albums that makes you say “oh yes, the Carpathian of Isolation” because it's their most successful work, where they best express themselves, light-years away from the banalizing standards of the first release. The riffing is hard, often like a wall where all hope breaks, and where the desire to fight against oneself takes over. The painful guitar plots of Josh Mannitta & Lloyd Carroll intertwine with Kirby's mighty rasp that cries out of empathy, misunderstandings, and a certain inner malaise that brings one dangerously close to the edge more than once in the choices to be made. The anomie of a desolate urban landscape is spat out, echoing certain nihilistic views where anger boils pulsating through the veins, where the mechanisms of stuck relationships want to be properly oiled, to return under the sunlight rather than get lost in the most apathetic nothingness. And this is how Carpathian chameleonically adapts their sound where melodic openings à la Modern Life Is War become poignant and screech under the wise direction of drummer David Bichard who displays the versatility of our hardcore offering. A sharp speed often and willingly juxtaposed with rock-solid mid-tempo in which it feels like being submerged by viscous oil, and in all this Ed Redclift on bass doesn’t hold back, closing the melancholic spiral of Carpathian surfacing in the more intimate breaks and so forth, to keep the atmosphere as dark and oppressive as possible.

This full-length will also be the swan song of Carpathian who will go on for three years, releasing among others the EP Wanderlust that continued and evolved the discourse proposed here within. A release that will be marked by the piece “Iron Heart” with the slogan phrase of these Australian guys: “I am the last romantic, I don’t have anything” which encapsulates the attitude that began precisely with Isolation and completely overturned their discographic path born with wholly other references. And, as a final personal opinion, I've never listened to a group capable of making me change my opinion so radically from one work to another, rising to be one of the must-haves of my modest collection.