Once upon a time, there was a punk, a misfit of the system with an irresistible urge to spit hatred at the gates of Buckingham Palace and an unhealthy attraction to hyper-speed, convulsive, incomprehensible music.
In the span of a few years, the same young misfit discovers old rock, discovers hallucinogenic drugs, tires of shouting social rage, perhaps no longer believes in the power of words in music. He finds his Balance in an old forest, where sadistic elves urge him to channel his twisted creativity into a muddy ground, slowly, like a voodoo curse that buries the old adrenaline rushes under tons of distorted bass.
Not long after, the same character, one Lee Dorrian, looks into the Mirror and crosses it, reaching the place he longed for: a realm populated by witches, weird creatures dancing in a curious and folkloristic Sabbath. It's 1993. With the album "Ethereal Mirror," Cathedral takes a necessary step in their sonic evolution to come: while the previous masterpiece remains incredibly significant for the entire doom scene, the LP at hand initiates the band into the freak parades that will define their musical journey.
An absolutely spontaneous union, albeit perhaps still unripe, of doom metal, rock, psychedelia, with roots buried in classic heavy and seventies hard rock. All driven by the singles "Ride" and "Midnight Mountain," the latter particularly emblematic in its music video: grimy metalheads playing what they appropriately self-define as disco-doom metal on a dance floor, dressed like a Tony Manero just back from Wonderland. There are oppressively heavy tracks ("Enter The Worms"), but in general, chemically induced madness reigns supreme in a fun, very unique music.
With the subsequent The Carnival Bizarre, the band will slightly refine some aspects, with the stable addition of bassist Leo Smee, thus forging a complete and perfect work, but the Ethereal Mirror remains a fundamental milestone, perhaps the most important in their entire discography.
It's 2011, and the ex-punk, jaded and aged, reflects on the end of his career with the Cathedral, probably fondly remembering those strange days, the beginnings of a twenty-year journey (trip?), sitting at the classic crowded English pub. And we thank him.
"With elephantine steps, Cathedral venture into the colorful world of psychedelia, losing a bit of their peculiar heaviness but remaining widely lethal to our neurons."
"This ’The Ethereal Mirror’ remains in my opinion the brightest and most grotesque diamond of the Englishmen’s career, a fantastic labyrinth which will be a pleasure to get lost in."