sly

In my opinion, you should have added a proper review to this beautiful introduction; long reviews don't scare me. The Gathering have always been an atypical band, charting unique and personal constellations throughout their career. After their platter "How To Measure a Planet?", a mélange of implicit energy, fading, and suggestion, our band seems almost to reconcile with the song format with the more immediate If-Then-Else, another great trip where a beauty rich in enchantment reigns. Standout tracks: the claustrophobic "Shot to Pieces," the muffled "Amity," the splendid "Bad Movie Scene" (does it remind anyone else of the timeless "Rescue Me"?), the desert and disturbed "Colorado Incident," the aquatic "Analog Park," the lysergic "Herbal Movement," the famous "Saturnine," and the final "Pathfinder."

The review is good, if it weren't for the detail that it was the thousandth on the band: I find the work overrated, where only half of it is convincing.

great review fidia. I've only heard them mentioned, but I've never listened to any concert.

After a couple of months, I return to the November topic because I finally listened to “The Blue,” but instead of rushing to judgment, I preferred to delve deep into the 12 blue meanders. It is unusual, however, that the new Platter from the Italian Combo, now one of the most important names in the metal pantheon, was completed so shortly after the critically acclaimed “Materia.” Even the beautiful cover, shaped by the expert hands of Travis Smith, immediately immerses us in the glassy tones of the Quintet: a brilliant turquoise metaphysical landscape even at a subconscious level, resisting the inexorable passage of time. The sixth volume of the Roman Ensemble demonstrates a strong desire to change skin with a decisive shift. Moving away from the open rarefaction of its predecessor, our artists approach the fury and almost adolescent impetuosity of the excellent “Classica” (2000), learning its dark and arcane secrets. Furthermore, there are unexpected progressive veins that bring them closer to their Swedish cousins, Opeth. The 12 creatures unwind through labyrinthine contortions, where the masterful modulations of Carmelo stand out, alternating the raspy plunge of growl with the caressing sweetness of his clean singing, at times truly reminiscent of a sad lullaby. Unfortunately, its over 67 minutes of duration do not manage to be as engaging as they should be, wrapping us in a spiral of inconclusiveness, despite numerous and careful listens. It can be somewhat compared to “How To Measure A Planet?” (not in terms of true sound, of course, but in songwriting), a brave work by The Gathering: a transitional work that presents excellent ideas and novelties, but where the past inspiration seems to have dissolved in the air in favor of an infinite expansion. Only the beautiful “Architheme,” which stands out above all, manages to compete on equal footing with the unparalleled weeping voice of “Nostalgiaplatz” and “My Starving Bambina” and the wall in perpetual shadow of “Onirica East.” For heaven's sake, we are faced with music above average (as demonstrated by tracks such as the appealing “Bluecracy,” the elusive outpouring of “Iridescence,” and “Sound Odyssey,” and the instrumental charm of “Zenith” (which vaguely recalls “Winter 1941,” less melancholic), but I cannot pretend that I expected to travel once again to the borders of dream and sadness.
Unfortunately, the journey only succeeded halfway.
Rating: 3.5

After a couple of months, I return to the November topic because I finally listened to "The Blue." Instead of rushing to a judgment, I preferred to delve deep into the 12 blue meanders. However, it's unusual that the new Platter from Combo Italiano, now one of the most important names in the metal pantheon, was completed so soon after the critically acclaimed "Materia." The beautiful cover, crafted by the skilled hands of Travis Smith, immediately immerses us in the glassy tones of the Quintet: a shining turquoise metaphysical scenario that resists the inexorable passage of time on an unconscious level. The sixth volume from the Roman ensemble demonstrates a strong desire to change its skin with a decisive transformation. Moving away from the open rarefaction of its predecessor, our band leans towards the fury and almost adolescent impulsiveness of the excellent "Classica" (2000), uncovering its dark and arcane secrets. Additionally, there are unexpected progressive veins that bring them closer to their Swedish cousins, Opeth. The 12 creatures unfold through labyrinthine contortions, on which the masterful modulations of Carmelo stand out, alternating the raspy depth of the growl with the caressing sweetness of his clean singing, at times truly reminiscent of a sad lullaby. Unfortunately, its over 67 minutes do not prove to be as engaging as they should be, wrapping us in a spiral of inconclusiveness, despite numerous attentive listens. It can be compared in a sense to "How To Measure A Planet?" (not in terms of actual sound, of course, but in terms of songwriting), a courageous work by The Gathering: a transitional piece that presents excellent ideas and innovations, but where past inspiration seems to have dissolved into the air in favor of an infinite elongation. Only the beautiful "Architheme," which stands out above all, competes on equal terms with the unattainable weeping voice of "Nostalgiaplatz" and "My Starving Bambina" and the ever-shadowy wall of "Onirica East." By all means, we are faced with above-average music (as demonstrated by songs like the captivating "Bluecracy," the elusive outpouring of "Iridescence" and "Sound Odyssey," and the instrumental charm of "Zenith," which vaguely recalls "Winter 1941" minus the melancholia), but I can't pretend I expected to journey again to the borders of dream and sadness.
Unfortunately, the journey succeeded only halfway.
Real rating: 3.5
Excellent review

After a couple of months, I'm back to the November topic because I've finally listened to “The Blue.” Instead of jumping to a hasty judgment, I preferred to delve into the depths of its 12 blue meanders. It's unusual that the new Platter from Combo Italiano, now one of the most important names in the metal pantheon, has come out so soon after the critically acclaimed “Materia.” The beautiful cover, shaped by the skilled hands of Travis Smith, immediately immerses us in the glassy tones of the Quintet: a bright and turquoise metaphysical scenario that also resonates at an unconscious level, resisting the relentless passage of time. The sixth Volume of the Roman Ensemble demonstrates a strong desire to shed its skin with a bold change. Moving away from the open-rarefied nature of its predecessor, our boys gravitate towards the fury and almost adolescent exuberance of the excellent “Classica” (2000), learning its dark and arcane secrets. Moreover, there are unexpected progressive veins that bring them closer to their Swedish cousins Opeth. The 12 creatures unfold through labyrinthine contortions, where the masterful modulations of Carmelo stand out, alternating the scratchy thrust of growls with the caressing sweetness of his clean vocals, at times genuinely resembling a melancholic lullaby. Unfortunately, its over 67 minutes don't manage to be as engaging as they should be, enveloping us in a spiral of inconclusiveness, despite numerous attentive listens. It is somewhat comparable to “How To Measure A Planet?” (not in terms of actual sound, of course, but in terms of songwriting), a courageous work by The Gathering: a transitional effort that presents excellent ideas and innovations, yet where the past inspiration seems to have dissolved in favor of an infinite expansion. Only the beautiful “Architheme,” which stands out above all, manages to compete on equal terms with the unmatched weeping voice of “Nostalgiaplatz” and “My Starving Bambina” and the ever-shadowy wall of “Onirica East.” By all means, we are in the presence of above-average music (as demonstrated by tracks like the catchy “Bluecracy,” the elusive effusion of “Iridescence,” “Sound Odyssey,” and the instrumental charm of “Zenith” (which vaguely resembles “Winter 1941” but less melancholic), but I can't pretend that I expected to travel once again to the borders of dream and sadness.
Unfortunately, the journey succeeded only halfway.
Rating: 3.5 real

I partly agree with lovelorn. I had heard a piece some time ago, but I didn't find it compelling or interesting at all.

Great review, which I completely agree with, although unfortunately you neglected the actual musical analysis, a matter not to be taken lightly in my opinion. Unfortunately, this is the only album by the band that I'm missing, but I'll make up for it very soon.

welcome

One of my latest purchases is the stunning "Song Of Darkness", "Words Of Night", the penultimate release from the Albion-based My Dying Bride. The title is quite self-explanatory (albeit a bit cliché) for the band: indeed, every album from the Bride has now become a guarantee of quality, where you'll find the magical mixture of light and shadow that has made them successful. The work showcases the usual love for decadent sounds, romantic atmospheres, and lyrics filled with insatiable emotion. The band takes the reins again as the ultimate masters of today's Doom Metal, with tracks like "Catherine Blake", "My Wine In Silente", and "The Blue Lotus", where the newcomer on keyboards, Sarah Stanton, does her job well. In reality, not everything works perfectly, and there are a few small drops in tone, a few corners that need to be smoothed out, which affect its overall quality. I still prefer the transcendent "The Dreadful Hours", truly a masterpiece with a capital M, of dark and unreal art.