Christian Death
Insanus, Ultio, Proditio, Misericordiaque

Renegade children of a gothic-wave born dark and edgy in the arid States, only to quickly migrate and flourish in Europe, Christian Death have experienced mixed fortunes over nearly thirty years, producing at least a couple of landmark albums for the genre and then descending a painful slope to the present day.

The long series of pretextually blasphemous and provocative albums, already in '88 featuring the horrid Christ shooting up (on the cover of "Sex Drugs and Jesus Christ") was temporarily interrupted in 1990 by the release of the album in question: "Insanus Ultio Proditio Misericordiaque." An album that immediately made early fans cry miracle, worried about the artistic direction guitarist-vocalist Valor was taking. Long orphaned of Rozz Williams and thus of the excellent drummer David Glass and wife Gitane DeMone, in '90 Valor made the move for an album of synthesis capable of restoring luster to the band's name after the ambitious misstep of "All the love, All the hate" from 1989. Abandoning the uncertain dichotomy made of decadent/psychedelic atmospheres and rough metal/punk samplings, the curly survivor put together a handful of unreleased repertoire tracks, partly readjusted, and relaunched a kind of phantom lineup. Always dominating with his unmistakable voice, but shuffling the deck so artfully as to almost make it seem as if the band had gotten back together for a final brave salute to the glories of the past decade.

In truth, Rozz Williams and Gitane DeMone appear on this album at most as guests for courtesy and actually occupy no more than 20% of the entire tracklist. Valor himself, in the album's rich booklet, in addition to the usual doodles, writes in his own hand a statement that not even too subtly reveals the situation. "Insanus" is a curious, curated, colorful collection of the best Christian Death with a sprinkle of golden polish. This is reflected by the numerous sampled sounds (never used before in the Rozz era), some electronic nuances, the obsessively rhythmic bases, visibly in demo version, the imprecision of the vocal tracks. And then, in any case, the mix is too heterogeneous to suspect that it is a brand-new album. It starts with the pompous pestilential march in honor of little Sevan, proceeds with the electro-funk tongue-twister "Malus Amor" (with the umpteenth Valor rant we live to love or love to live, etc.), and the dark stride of "Tragicus Conatus" (an instrumental derived from Current 93's lesson), to resurrect Rozz Williams in the malicious blues of "Vexatio" (a track with little appeal and frankly out of place). Then follows the Bowiesque "Somnium," tinged with dreamy glam suggestions, which blends seamlessly with the subsequent "Venenum" (where Gitane duets with her ex-husband and brings the atmosphere back a few years, more or less to the times of "The Scriptures"); it closes with the dialogue "Mors Voluntaria" and "Vita Voluntaria", semi-instrumentals of esoteric origin that add nothing new to what was already experimented in previous albums.

In short, before succumbing to the obscene temptation to definitively impose themselves as a breakaway band, marginal, free from all imposed morality and unfortunately doomed to musical failure, Valor's project in 1990 proved that Christian Death were not a mere footnote in the abundant global dark scene. Though aware of not being able to do anything memorable alone, with "Insanus" he demonstrated a creative capacity still linked to cultural content, retrieving material not to be wasted and putting much of himself into it.

An album certainly excellent if compared to certain raw sound messes titled (transl.) "The God of Sexy Death" or "Pornographic Messiah"; but of course too bizarrely collage to have the coherent evocative elegance of masterpieces like "Catastrophe ballet".