Coph Nia
Shape Shifter

The industrial with an esoteric background is not an easy genre to handle. The line between honesty and charlatanism is thin. The leap from the unknown to the ridiculous is short.

In my opinion, Aldenon Satorial's Coph Nia sits halfway, at times excelling, yet overall not convincing. This is a strictly personal judgment, since upon its release (it was 2003), this "Shape Shifter" was hailed by the public and critics as a true masterpiece.

Let's start from the beginning: Aldenon Satorial is actually pretending to be young, as he has been musically active since the eighties. His creation emerged around the mid-nineties, but for the first official release ("That Which Remains"), we would have to wait for the dawn of the third millennium.

Today, Coph Nia is one of the leading figures in the Cold Meat Industry stable, and "Shape Shifter" remains its most inspired moment.

But what do these sensational Coph Nia play? And what would you expect them to play, if not the typical post-industrial blend made in CMI: dark ambient scenarios, mystic growls and sporadic percussion intended to weave dark rituals.

The real highlight of "Shape Shifter" is the production work by the guru of dark electronics, Peter Andersson: practically perfect and polished sounds, meticulous attention to detail; many, ultimately, the analogies with Andersson's own Raison D'Etre, starting with the massive use of Gregorian chants and sampled bells.

Aldenon Satorial, in any case, shows technical prowess above average. What is probably lacking is the emotion: the sense of mystery, of sacredness, of the supernatural that should emerge from the notes of every respectable esoteric-themed work instead becomes caricature, pose, horrid flatness.

In particular, the voices, too emphatic and theatrical to be credible, detract from an electronic setup that is, for the most part, professionally crafted. It's better, then, when you surrender to a suave singing style à la Dave Gahan, going back to the best tradition of the eighties. And it is precisely this, in my opinion, the ace up the Swedish artist’s sleeve: the intention to blend the typical harshness of dark ambient with a mildly dark-wave attitude, which makes the listening experience enjoyable and varied nonetheless.

A good production and a good mix of elements thus replace writing that is not always brilliant. And it's no coincidence that the highlight episodes paradoxically turn out to be the two covers: "Prime Mover" by Leather Nun and the timeless "Stygmata Martyr" by Bauhaus. Truly phenomenal, the latter: hypnotic bass line, apocalyptic choirs in crescendo, a dark and enveloping voice reciting blasphemous verses in a doomsday atmosphere. In a word: sublime.

Not that everything else should be discarded: the chanting choirs in "Lord of the Air," for instance, bring to mind the atrocities of the very early Current 93, while the orgy of voices exploding at the seventh minute of "The Mirror" is a true heart-stopper. Lastly, the closing "Call of the Jackal" is appreciated, an imposing industrial ride urged on by the restless pulse of deviant electronics and shaken by truly remarkable symphonic explosions.

Ultimately: if you have works like "Nature Unveiled" and "Blood Dogs Rising" in mind, this "Shape Shifter" just makes you laugh at how harmless, puerile, and even unpleasant it sounds in its arrogance.

If instead, we approach it with more detachment, keeping ourselves away from merciless comparisons and considering today's dark-industrial scene, we will certainly feel less burned: "Shape Shifter" is, all in all, a more than decent work, a mandatory purchase for fans of Cold Meat Industry products, a pleasant listen for all admirers of those industrial sounds that love to indulge in the comforting coils of the gothic universe.