Dark Tranquillity
We Are The Void

Dear DeSanta Claus,

this year I have not been a good DeBaserian, but I am writing to you anyway to ask for a slightly out-of-season Christmas gift, one that I wouldn't be the only one to enjoy: Dark Tranquillity. Or alternatively, a new section of DeBaser named DeStroncature.

Yes, because those of "We Are The Void" are NOT Dark Tranquillity and this is NOT a review. Those of WATV must be clones, some kind of poorly executed Dollies, with the same genetics but without an ounce of soul. I have literally adored DT and it pains me to say that, due to age reasons, I was not able to follow their evolution in real time. From the Gallery to the Novella, passing through Refuges and Damages Done, a crescendo of emotions, a never-ending journey always towards new shores, without ever being afraid to experiment. I don't know if it's precisely the fear of experimenting that produced the horrendous abortion that is WATV, and it's difficult for me even to hope that it is, faced with the prospect of reached creative barrenness that has definitively impoverished what once were fields pregnant with fantasy and inventiveness. I don’t want to believe in this last hypothesis, both because I find it hard to believe that such a courageous and close-knit group that literally revolutionized a genre could suddenly become so sterile, and because this last step, as false as it may be, is still an isolated episode in their career.

This WATV is a bland album, void of ideas and passion, without a track that one could call acceptable, least of all in Dark Tranquillity style, where the rare good musical intuitions are immediately suppressed like lame horses in the '500s. The exquisitely technical performance is as usual good from everyone. Everyone except Mikael Stanne. His vocal performance is really pathetic compared to the other albums, there’s no malice, no anger, no grit. Just hoarse, empty screams, and pale attempts at clean singing that hardly mesh with the songs performed. Could it be a coincidence that the sudden artistic bleakness of the frontman coincided with the fall of the group? The analogies with the "other DT" are chilling, of which they seem to have become just a more extreme parody. A dismal landscape. Maybe they got the album title wrong. An extra "The". Never before have they seemed so empty.

This is not a review. Maybe it's exaggerated to even call it a scathing critique. More likely, it's just a rain of venom, justified by the betrayal suffered, a rejection not only clear but also heartfelt, with both heart and mind. Perhaps, indeed certainly, if this album had been produced by another group, I wouldn't be writing all this. Maybe I could have even avoided listening to it dozens of times trying, unsuccessfully, to find, if not the right listening key, at least some positive side of this album. I continue to hope I'm just blinded by disappointment and unable to see at least the acceptable parts of this album. But I cannot, so I will consider this just an indelible stain in the immaculate history of this group, rather than the end of a great love. At least until the next album...