Decoryah
Wisdom Floats

Languid sensations of piercing nostalgia pierce the hearts of souls lost amidst the blurred glows of intangible horizons. Dead leaves sink into muddy paths of wooded lands, distant and forever forgotten. Like tears of gleaming melancholy, silent tributaries in the river of betrayed passion, of the feeling that burns in the crackle of the hearth illuminating the darkest nights.

If lament has a meaning, it explodes in the orgasm of sounds from the faded echo of a sadly lost love. To which one clings with the feeble strength of fingernails broken by the most lacerating anguish, screaming despair to the winds of silence, to the currents of abandonment. And no one listens, because amidst the branches of oblivion, the goddess of pain dispenses eternal punishments, the unappealable exile to the realms of unhappiness where roars of deformed ogres erase the memory of sweet female choruses. There aren't many words or phrases left to describe the dazzling splendor of this work tormented by the solemn progression of slow notes drowning in the deepest dismay. Ivory keys embrace the delicate six strings, now "electrically" agitated, now soft and acoustic, the Gregorian singing duets virtuously with the seductive femininity of a weeping virgin, while the sleepy rhythms lazily support the eleven hymns to decay presented here.

Classical music stuffed with virtuous pianos, dreamy synths, guitar echoes suspended between the darkest doom and Floydian solos give birth to a single monolithic amalgam where melody reigns supreme. No room for metallic accelerations, no sign of life in the motionless drumming, just a bleak sense of burning defeats accentuated by the slowness of tracks that celebrate the funeral of hope. This without the need for screams or shouts, using harmonies of torturing sweetness that lead the listener to the edge of sonic endurance, generating a chant of pure and profound gothicism. A due applause to the individual, talented musicians, particularly to the penetrating Gregorian throat of Jukka Vuorinen (skilled in weaving at the same time quite emotional riffing) and the crystalline warbles of guest Sini Koivuniemi capable of conveying delicate and stormy emotions. For an hour, abandon yourselves to the disconsolate caresses of this dark oblivion. Emptiness you will all sink in.