Elegeion
Through The Eyes Of Regret

Gray backgrounds of dead trees and tombstones faded with pastel tones by the subdued cry of a cello, by calm acoustic guitar chords and ethereal piano notes, on which martial drums and recited male voices sketch medieval and dark scenarios. This is "Silence", a short track that introduces the dark and hopeless world created by the music of this Australian band. Elegeion's palette is rather sparse: the dominant color is a lifeless gray, all the shades present tend towards the darkest black, and any glimmer of light has been removed to make the trio's atmospheric-doom visions even more claustrophobic.

The project has been active for eleven years now, but they only managed to get discovered (by myself as well) towards the end of 2005 with the release of the album "The Last Moment" (published by the American Dark Symphonies), suspended between episodes of excellent craftsmanship and unlistenable fillers, penalized by the lesser use of the female voice that made this album great.

"Through the Eyes of Regret" (2001, Modern Invasion Music) is Elegeion's first real effort and it is particularly pleasing to the ear compared to its successor, thanks to an underlying innocence and immaturity that make its nine songs sincere and intense, like the darker emotions that in moments of despair pervade the soul. Influences can be found in the early Anathema and the My Dying Bride of the Martin Powell era, but Anthony (leader and composer) and his companions add to the autumnal arpeggios, the long solos with melancholic-psychedelic tones, the granite riffs and deliberately monotonous guitar and the heaviness of the rhythm section meticulous string and piano work, making the sound blend even more depressed and disheartening, yet sweet and lulling at the same time, like the melancholy that grips us in front of a sunset viewed from the window at home (from this perspective, the title track is significant). And what about the superb performance behind the microphones? The mastermind seems to have a scream that comes directly from the intestines rather than the vocal cords, and when he gives us rare glimpses of clean vocals, he embraces shamanic, almost toneless shades that create a disorienting effect when overlapped with the raw guitar notes. In the difficult task of giving voice to the oblivion of the soul, Anthony is assisted by the talented pianist and vocalist Dieudonnee, romantic and disenchanted, sincere and moving as if Vincent Cavanagh transformed into a creature of the opposite sex (dear aspiring singers, forget the epitome of the opera singer and listen to the final and completely vocal "For Eternity" to understand that to be deep, you don't need a soprano voice).

The piano is not overused and in the economy of the band's sound, it plays a purely decorative role, but when it is heard, it fills the funereal melodies of songs like "Oration of Indifference" with languor and decay, beautiful in its contrast between "mosquito-like" guitars and delicate ivory key touches, in the enchanting melody taken up by Dieudonnee's voice, a song that speaks of abandonment and despair, of walks through cemetery paths drenched by incessant and cold autumn rain, strewn with dead leaves and draped in veils of white mist. Listen to the intermezzo entirely entrusted to the strings, piano, and female voice and melt into an embrace of blind pain, let yourself be lulled by the timeless lullaby taken up by both voices and the acoustic guitar, tainted by a retro-flavored bass and the never intrusive drums by James, suspended in the autumn skies drawn by the ethereal vocalizations of the beautiful singer... And resign yourself, because hope is not a feeling contemplated by this album, and for the genre played, it's right that way. "Thoughts" is initially accompanied by beautiful string backgrounds, dressed in desperation at times unbearable, but then gives way to a sudden guitar acceleration on which Dieudonnee enters with her sweet and satisfying singing, followed in turn by the spoken voice of her bandmate and a blend of acoustic and electric strings and muffled beats, a truly gripping and fitting opening. The song is broken halfway by a twilight arpeggio on which rests an intimate song, soon followed by a solo seemingly made of tears instead of notes.

All those who loved early Anathema will thus understand the type of music and sensations I am referring to, so it's not worth mentioning the subsequent songs (except for "A Rare Moment", the album's peak, a track initially acoustic supported by voice, strings, and acoustic guitar, launched into a finale of pure sorrow and closed by almost baroque violins). Just know that elements more dear to gothic metal, such as strings and female vocals, have been incorporated into the formula experimented with in the recent past by the Cavanagh brothers and company, but used in a completely different manner than what Theatre Of Tragedy, Tristania, and company have done. These elements become complementary to a sound whose main strength lies in the guitar, the true protagonist of an album that narrates the discouragement of the soul, and to do so, it adorns itself with an absolutely unique beauty. Originality doesn't need to be acclaimed, like many compositionally questionable bands today; it only requires a lot of sincerity and the desire to convey true emotions. And what is more true than suffering? Perhaps nothing else, and it's thus that many uninspired groups today embrace gothic metal, hoping to appear sincere yet doing nothing but distorting a proposal that has always drawn its vital sap and inspiration from doom. "Through the Eyes of Regret" is a rare moment of pure quality; it had been long awaited.

Let me say that as long as albums like this are published, doom metal can still consider itself a paradoxically "alive" genre, nourished by air full of death, anger, despair, sadness, disillusionment, and melancholy. Less difficult than Shape Of Despair, less symphonic than Silentium, more mature than early Lacrimas Profundere... They are simply Elegeion, masters of a genre dwelling in distant lands and, therefore, far from any trend, authors of an infinitely valid and sincere proposal that will leave a mark among those who miss the doom metal of the first half of the nineties, but also among those who are beginning to tire of the usual gothic albums.