Published back in the now distant 1987, "Into The Pandemonium" represents the compositional zenith of the band led by T.G. "Warrior" Fischer and Martin Eric Ain, featuring a sound less raw and brutal compared to their previous works, yet maintaining those sinister and original atmospheres that have inspired a multitude of death, black, gothic metal, et al. bands (just ask Paradise Lost of "Gothic" or Obituary of "Cause of Death," as well as Tiamat of "Clouds" or Samael of "Ceremony of the Opposites" to name but a few).
The challenge toward innovation and originality begins immediately with the opener "Mexican Radio", which is actually a metal version of the flagship song by Wall of Voodoo, a new wave/electro dark band from the early '80s. Daring and bold. It continues with "Mesmerized", a mid-tempo song of disarming simplicity, characterized by a dissonant arpeggio over painful and suffering riffing, as is the singing of Thomas Gabriel, far from the typical frostian death grunt. Soprano Claudia Maria Mokri intervenes, freezing the atmosphere of the entire track.
The rhythm changes with the next track, "Inner Sanctum", claustrophobic and tense, as per the best tradition, death/thrash with a mid-tempo segment, growl vocals, and "in style" solo. Following the original edition of the album, it's now time for a small gem of gothic metal ante litteram, "Tristesses de la Lune" (in later reissues, it will be titled "Sorrow of the Moon" to distinguish it from the orchestral interpretation, wonderful and dreamy, with Mokri on vocals, which will "steal" its French title), sung once again lasciviously and plaintively, intensely, for a song with intense and absolutely original riffing.
Then the abyss that drags us into one of the frostian classics: "Babylon Fell", powerful, tortuous in its decelerations, the classic "Uhh" of T.G. Warrior, then opening majestically and perversely in the central riff with spectral background work by the aforementioned Claudia Maria and a schizoid solo, though highly effective. "Caress into Oblivion" opens unsettling with a bass line overlaid by the "Namas," a call to Muslim prayer sung by muezzins, a citation from the film "The Exorcist," then unfolds, hypnotically and powerfully into classically thrash accelerations, accompanied by the now characteristic alternation between growl and plaintive vocals. An echo of Berber percussion accompanies and enhances this song, giving it a fascinating Middle Eastern appeal.
As we said before, this is a bold and innovative album, and proof of that is "One in their Pride", a track with an industrial beat mixed with distorted guitars, sinister violins, vocal samples that seem to be taken from a NASA moon landing, all set in a surreal atmosphere in an extreme metal record. Insane and stunning. Then it’s time for a real headbanging neck-breaking song: "I Won't Dance" (a title borrowed from a song by Frank Sinatra, whom T.G. Warrior has never hidden being a fan of) is a medium-fast death piece, extremely compelling in its tough and dry riffing, yet equally original in its packaging, with distorted guitars harmonizing with the main riff and choruses of clean yet pained voices. Tremendous even in its absurd and sick solo.
And then the grand finale with the theatrical pieces "Rex Irae" and "Oriental Masquerade", where unparalleled compositional peaks are reached (ask Therion what they think). The first is nothing less than an opera, complete with a grandiloquent orchestral arrangement and soprano voice upfront, all structured in three acts plus finale, masterfully mixed with electric guitars and sometimes tectonic rhythm section, like in the central part that practically becomes a death/thrash piece with double bass. Monstrous operatic interpretation by T.G. Warrior. The funereal "Oriental Masquerade", with its slow, syncopated pace (reminiscent of the magnificent "Innocence and Wrath"), is nothing less than the stylistic continuation of the previous song and worthily concludes a truly historic and seminal album, absolutely anomalous for the global metal landscape of the time of its release and that still feels original and innovative.
In conclusion, a few words about the artwork: once again, Celtic Frost prove to be cultured artists through and through by putting on the cover a detail from the "Garden of Earthly Delight" by the Flemish painter Hieronymus Bosch, quite an apt choice given the musical and lyrical content.Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Mexican Radio (03:29)
Mexican Radio
written by Wall of Voodoo, from their album Call of the West
I feel a hot wind on my shoulder
And the touch of a world that is older
I turn the switch and check the number
I leave it on when in bed I slumber
I hear the rhythms of the music
I buy the product but never use it
I hear the talking of the DJ
Can't understand - just what does he say?
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
(Radio DJ speaking in Spanish)
I dial it in and tune the station
They talk about the U.S. inflation
I understand just a little
No comprende - it's a riddle
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
(Radio DJ speaking in Spanish)
I wish I was in Tijuana -
Eating barbecued iguana
I'd take requests on the telephone
I'm on a wavelength far from home
I feel the hot wind on my shoulder
I dial it in from south of the border
I hear the talking of the DJ -
Can't understand - just what does he say?
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio ...
Radio
Radio
What does he say?
Radio
Radio
Radio
02 Mesmerized (03:24)
You, who like the moon at night
Haunted my mortal heart ...
You who made this ancient walls
Shine like divine marble
The unwanted breath - through creedence
A derelict shell in the desert
- Mesmerised -
As love inflamed the night
Burning tongues brought the rain
The sand remained - purified
Murmur at the meager's spear
Battered Carthagian pride
The beloved cry - wasted dismay
Invasion of baseness and shade
You, loved by your father
Innocent as a vestal - dove
Buried in a deep blue sea
As we all lose - ever
03 Inner Sanctum (05:16)
Sleep brings no joy to me
Remembrance never dies
My soul is given to misery
And lives in sighs ...
The shadows of the dead,
My waken eyes may never see,
Surround my bed
That from which they sprung - eternity
Beneath the turf
The silent dead
Sleep brings no wish to knit
My harrassed heart beneath
My only wish is to forget
In the sleep of death
Death is my joy
I long to be at rest
I wish the damp earth covered
This desolate brest
Beneath the mould
The silent dead
But the glad eyes around us
Must weep as we have done
And we must see the same gloom
Eclipse their morning sun
Oh not for them - Should we despair
The grave is drear - But they're not there
Their dust is mingled - With the sod
Their pale souls - Are gone, to god
Well, may they live in ecstasy
Their long eternity of joy
At least I wouldn't bring them down
With me to weep, to groan
And what's the future
A sea beneath the cloudless sun
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity
My inner sanctum
R.I.P
04 Sorrows of the Moon (03:04)
This evening the moon dreams more lazily
As some fair woman, lost in cushions deep
With gentle hand caresses listlessly
The contour of her breasts before she sleeps
On velvet backs of avalanches soft
She often lies enraptured as she dies
And gazes on white visions aloft
Which like a blossoming to heaven rise
When sometimes on this globe, in indolence
She lets a secret tear drop down, by chance
A poet, set against oblivion
Takes in his hand this pale and furtive tear
This opal drop where rainbow hues appear
And hides it in his breast far from the sun
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By Big D
Imagining the sound of this album for someone who has never listened to it is like trying to explain the difference between red and blue to someone who has been blind from birth.
'Into The Pandemonium' stands to music as Warhol’s madness stands to art.
By Rocky Marciano
"The most avant-garde metal album that will ever be made."
"No album has ever lived up to its name as this 'Into The Pandemonium', into the pandemonium!"