Death SS
Resurrection

He just needed time, Steve Sylvester: after temporarily shelving his historic creature with the sloppy "The Seventh Seal" (it was known from the start that Death SS would return sooner or later, which is why we are not surprised by their 2013 labeled "resurrection"), the band's leader certainly hasn't been idle, between new musical projects (Santa Sanctorum, Opus Dei), film collaborations (as an actor and screenwriter), and impromptu releases of Death SS-penned unreleased tracks to keep the flame of hope alive; over all these years, he has evidently been able to find those motivations that allowed him to make a great comeback with a major work that will hardly garner negative opinions among old and new fans.

We had no doubts about the professionalism Our Band would invest in the new work; what strikes positively is the return of that inspiration that made every previous episode great, except for that "The Seventh Seal," indeed, which appeared rather clouded both from a compositional standpoint and in terms of arrangement and production. Certainly helps the fact that today's presented songs were actually written at different times, the result of wisely rationed energies over the band's seven-year "inactivity." And so Death SS confirms themselves as an essential band that, despite a career now spanning seven decades, demonstrates enviable longevity.

Never like in this "Resurrection" do we understand the status of a true cult band that can boast a formation that over the years remains the only and inimitable model of a genre, that Horror Metal shaped by Death SS themselves and that finds no other examples, not even in the sphere of bland imitation. Starting from the rightly self-celebratory title, the release date (June 6, 2013, none other than the infamous 666 - the third 6 is obtained by summing the digits of 2013), the recovery of the ancient logo and the pastel cover curated by the historical illustrator and comic artist Emanuele Taglietti, an artist also of cult status.

But do not believe that the exquisitely vintage moods perceived at the graphic level completely reflect the contents of the album, which is not a banal revival of the sounds of the origins, but rather the exhaustive compendium of everything the band has combined over its more than thirty-year career: an overview that does not refrain from touching on those electro/industrial experiments pursued from "Panic" onwards. Thus, simplifying, "Resurrection" seems to move between the hard, metallic, but also melodic sounds of an "Heavy Demons," the dark Gothic chaos of an album dripping with esotericism like "Do What Thou Wilt," and the eclecticism of the more recent "Humanolies." And so the revived Death SS bring together, as the great masters they are, the stylistic elements of rich and powerful classic heavy metal and the "modernisms" rendered by a skillful and never intrusive use of electronics, which pulses darkly through several of the tracks presented today. Without, of course, setting aside the outrageous rudeness of a wicked glam, which has always been a fundamental background for Us, and doom turns that look at the band's more remote past: a welcome return to sounds reminiscent of the Paul Chain era which make the band's effort to combine metal, occultism, and series Z horror film atmospheres even more lively and effective. In short, "Resurrection" is nothing more and nothing less than what Death SS have always been and always will be.

If, therefore, one cannot speak of drastic stylistic upheavals, the band is still able, even this time around, to produce a fresh work different from the previous ones, where the seven-year wait curbs that sense of déjà-vu that would have been a tangible risk if this album had been released too soon after its lackluster predecessor. The same lineup chosen by the mastermind includes skilled musicians capable of giving the product the shine of the old days. Starting with the call to arms of the legendary Freddy Delirio, the first keyboardist of the Tuscan ensemble, who replaces the excellent Oleg Smirnoff who, due to his young age and progressive background, was nonetheless able to instill winds of modernity into Our tested sound, to the detriment, however, of those arcane and mystical atmospheres which have constituted the combo's distinctive trait since its origins. Bozo Wolff is confirmed as the best drummer who has recently served in the band, recalling, in terms of power, the feats of the great Ross Luckater. Glenn Strange is his worthy counterpart on bass, while Al De Noble’s six-string performance, already a recent collaborator of Sylvester in his projects and here the undisputed protagonist, is worthy of applause, capable of maneuvering between powerful rhythms (often bordering on thrash, with some inevitable deviation towards "nu" territories) and finely crafted solos that bring us back to the times when the band was dedicated to more classic metal. A separate discussion deserves the leader's role behind the microphone, who on the one hand defends his charisma intact, at times seems to disappear swallowed in the meanders of a rich and hyper-produced sound, among guitars, keyboards, electronics, and female choirs (present in more than one episode): evidently, Sylvester's vocal cords have not held up, in front of the clutches of time, as much as his abs have, which we can understand and forgive, given also the age factor.

So why only four stars and not twenty-five? I do not feel like giving the work, although excellent, the highest marks because here and there I find in the listening a bit too much pandering, the temptation on more than one occasion to indulge in a pleasing and predictably successful gothic rock (and indeed the refrains are not always memorable). But this, I reiterate, means splitting hairs and not taking into account that Steve Sylvester has always had an eye for his audience, especially since his creature suddenly came back into fashion by virtue of the wave of industrial/goth/metal bands that appeared in the mid-nineties, following the success of acts such as Rammstein, White Zombie, and Marilyn Manson. So if a certain amount of crowd-pleasing was going to be accounted for (after all, Sylvester is someone who acts in "Inspector Coliandro" and not in Jodorowsky's films), we, who have followed him for ages, will certainly not be scandalized, since he has certainly done such things before many others.

With the due premises, let's dive into the brief examination of these twelve tracks that together make almost an hour of excellent music. Regarding the genesis of the individual episodes, some of which the most attentive fans may have had the chance to know as they were already released as soundtrack excerpts or in single form, I leave you to the detailed notes present within the beautiful booklet. Let's focus therefore on the most interesting moments. The opener "Revived," opened by the techno pulsing, may initially baffle the early fans, who will soon be rewarded by the burst of tight rhythms and an engaging chorus: from this first track, strong with powerful and clear sounds and an irresistible groove, one can already discern the coordinates on which the entire album will run, that mix of old and new that will surely satisfy both the purists of gothic atmospheres and lovers of the fiery eardrum. The already-single "The Darkest Night," placed in third position, confirms the band’s good intentions, showing itself gritty and defiant in asserting its identity. Same goes for the furious rock of "Santa Sangre," which shines with a chorus that hooks you from the first listen. But be careful not to be deceived by the commercial pull of certain passages or the impression that the band has settled for impactful and easy-to-grasp melodies: repeated listens will demonstrate the real depth these pieces show both in the writing and (especially) in the arrangement phase.

And it does not end with metallic explosions and anthems to shout at the top of one's lungs: the band intends to show us other sides of its multifaceted nature, including more atmospheric and more emotional moments. Among the most atmospheric episodes is to be mentioned "Ogre's Lullaby," opened by a haunting music box and one of the most sulfurous doom riffs our guys have ever put to tape: Steve Sylvester's effected bark, amid the rise of majestic orchestrations and the screeching of assorted screams, confers a further evil aura to the track, which is certainly not to be counted among the "lighter" moments of the platter. The same could be said for the other great piece of the album, which might constitute its absolute highlight, i.e., "The Song of Adoration," a mini-suite of almost ten minutes that sets itself halfway between a power-ballad (in the style of "The Serpent Rainbow," from "Do What Thou Wilt") and a mystical evocation (already experimented with at the time of "Black Mass"): it is in these cases that Steve Sylvester, guilty of a evocative as well as theatrical vocal performance, reminds us that class is permanent and above all that Death SS do not lower themselves to the level of insignificant bands seeking confirmation from the most superficial listener.

The whole is concluded by the carefree rock of "Bad Luck" with its ironic and sharp lyrics aimed at debunking the negative myth of Death SS as a "bad luck band" and to (rightly) tell off once and for all the superstitious around.

In short, as will be understood, there is really something for everyone: so let yourselves be tempted once again by an artist and his band who just don't want to hear about retiring.